Morale like a Glass of Sour Milk

Harsh. Windy. Snow. March like a wounded animal, a chiseling weasel. Nothing so far to encourage Dubstoevsky. Now is the time of Russian tragedy and farce. A single measly ride in March, and that a timid rambler on the Crux Elite, touring through the neighborhoods like an urban tourist.

Not exactly honing Dubstoevsky's non-conditioning. 

Once, the season looked promising. A half dozen rides in January, nearly the same in February. Not a lot of miles but enough to keep a sense of the edge, the fitness edge, the line that, when you slip over it, you know you're in a place of sloth and lard.

I rolled over that line, mutton leg in hand, some weeks ago. 

Scenes from what amounts to "training for the Rasputitsa." It feels dishonest even writing that sentence.

Harvard St, Woo City, March 19, 2017

Slow Above

Tagged

Bancroft Tower, March 19, 2017

Seizing Opportunities

January is always hit or miss. It can roar or whimper, pee or squall. The roads can be wet or icy, sandy, sloppy, or bone dry and stained white with salt. Or all of them in a single ride. As they were today.

While Wing Nut is banging out 50 mile rides in the hills of western Mass, Dubstoevsky is pecking away at crumbs and possibilities. 11 miles here. 40 miles there. 18 miles today in the absolute gloaming. Seizing every opportunity, foolhardy though some might be. 

January 19, 2017

Tuesday is a perfect example. Fully-suited up and ready to pedal, I noticed the a pattern of droplets on the pavement. The imminence of rain. I asked myself "What would Wing Nut do?" 

The answer was obvious - set out and hope for the best - so that's what I did. The best proved to be ice pellets instead of rain. At least I was not wet or uncomfortable. The pellets hit my outer layer and bounced off. They stung my face like little biting ants. Though the roads were completely soaked by the time I got back, for most of the ride they were just in the "dampening" stage. I got lucky, perhaps I conjured the beneficence of WingNutKarma.

Today it was overcast and ashy when I left after 3:00 and it got steadily darker as I went on. By the end of the ride, all the cars' headlights were on and I was grateful for my strobic-blinking headlamp and the schizophrenic blinking red taillight. I got back at 4:50. It's still January, for fuck's sake. Stupidly dark. Both Tuesday's and today's rides were in the "foolhardy" category. 

Also in the "hard man of the peloton" category. 

Ah well. After today, I've got 6 rides in 2017, 117 miles over full-on winter roads. 

Every January ride is a pint paid for by a stranger. 

Clear and Cold

Holden Reservoir
January 14, 2016

Saturday, January 14, 2017 was the 50th anniversary of the Human Be-In. I rode. 29 degrees, overcast crept in by the afternoon, a wan gray overlay fifty years after that cornerstone cultural event. That was the beginning and the end of what was possible. 

All these years later, a refugee from the Soviet Union, a hard man of the proletariat, a skull-thumped survivor at large in America, the bicycle is my pedestal and soapbox. I claw my way forward, eating up the hills of Woo County, grinding out dogged winter miles, telling myself that the Rasputitsa is nothing, is a lark's pedal, a puff of bluster in a long train of savagery.   

Monday, January 16. I bow to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., prophet and peacemaker, visionary, martyr for justice. OM AH HUM. 

The day is bright, sharp, clear, above freezing. Perfect. Don all the garb necessary for a comfortable ramble. And a fine ramble it is, 40 miles across the free New England landscape. Is Massachusetts the best state in the union? Some would argue. But I would not. 

This is where we ride

Emulating Balzac

Onward. 

First ride on the year, first ride on the Crux since the D2R2 (I didn't even test ride it after getting in back with a new derailleur last August). First training ride for the Rasputitsa, 112 days from today.

William St, New Years Day 2017

Hall St, New Years Day 2017

They say that if Balzac finished writing a novel before lunch, he would, immediately after lunch, start his next one. 

So it goes for Dubstoevsky. No time for slacking, for taking it easy. Serious training, arduous training, relentless training getting underway. The bike, for a while, becomes a secondary focus. After three years of determined cycling, the body, while sinewy and strong in the muscle gruppetto, has lost significant strength and muscle elsewhere. Everywhere else. 

That sad state to be addressed. Core training. A strengthening regimen designed and overseen by DS Mawgs, the Huron fitness guru who has taken a personal interest in Dubstoevsky's resurrection. Barbell step-ups. The Kettlebell Swing. Rowing machines. Weighted sleds. Truck tires. 

It's the first day of the new year. Time to start the next novel.

Woo City Style, January 1, 2017

January 1, 2017

Bancroft TowerJanuary 1, 2017

The Return of the Light

Take heart in the fact that it is no longer the shortest day of the year, but the second shortest. And every day now until June grows lighter. 

But much as we want more and more light, there is something inescapably superior about winter light, more beautiful than the other three seasons, especially just before and after dawn, and late in the afternoon as the sun dips below the frozen hills and fills the western sky with wan peach smears and gray cloud boas the colors of hearth ash and washed out apricot.

Or just after 3:00 setting out for a spirited reservoir romp, passing St Spyridon Church, old Greek Acropolis cloud sky embracing the be-crossed dome in the muted sun glare. 

December 4, 2016

On these rides, you have to be extra careful, you have to be aware of your surroundings at all time, as aware as an owl or a mountain lion, you have to take note of every road detail and never let your attention waver. A frozen road surface, an icy gutter sludge, a patch of sand, they could all take you down in a Zen breath. 

So today is the second darkest day of 2016 and I'm filled with light, and trying to be light on my bike, and light in my awareness, and light in the universe, an airy soul speeding along on rubber tubes of air. To the reservoir! 

December 22, 2016

And so 17 miles unexpectedly, a Thursday afternoon late in December, like finding a ten dollar bill on the sidewalk. All the miles between now and spring training are gravy, the low fat version. Every pedaled mile counts as a gold star. 

A Note on Team Shad

Not for the first time did I ponder the odd circumstance that finds Team Shad training on the road roughly 90% of the time, yet the only organized events on the team's race schedule year in and year out are gravel road affairs (Rasputitsa, D2R2, Tour de Heifer). What's up with that? wondered Dubstoevsky near the end of the year. Who is running this team, anyway?

February Surprise

The surprise is a weekend in February when the temperature climbs above 50 degrees F both days. Not to mention that, since Tuesday past, daytime temps have been above freezing. Which is odd, and classic, given that a week ago, on Valentine's Day evening, air temperature plummeted to 18 below zero here in Woo City, a record for the day.

What's different about this February thaw is that, during most years, the roads and streets would be lined with plowed snow so that when the day warmed above freezing, the snow would begin to melt and saturate the road surface. These days, there is no snow lining the roadways, it all melted this week. So the roads are dry. Very unusual circumstances, a delight.

Yesterday, Saturday, I ventured out on the cross bike, the Specialized Crux Elite, to ascertain the road conditions and to generally plunder the winter roads for my own amusement. Turns out, I could have ridden the road bike without a problem. Sure, there was some sand and some rough patches here and there, and the occasional run-off, but nothing alarming. In fact, today, Sunday, I eschewed the cross bike, saddled up the Allez Comp, and had a terrific 23 miler, essentially repeating yesterday's ride, though in reverse.

The bad news to report is that, despite February's relative mildness, I have been afflicted with Winter Debauch. Meaning that, using inclement weather and cold temperatures as an excuse, I have skipped chances to be active and have, instead, taken long afternoon hot baths; I have spent hours in the kitchen preparing beef stews or chicken thigh braises or other hearty comfort food dishes; I have reclined on couches and beds and divans and settees with book or crossword or newspaper and wiled away hours. I have slacked off. To excess. To the gain of 6 pounds in three weeks.

March is nigh. A harsh, bleak, taskmaster of a month. A month for hair shirts and gruel, for penance and fervor. And in the wake of March, the Rasputitsa. In March, we shall put our shad shoulder to the wheel.

Newton Hill clear of snow

The broad swath of Hobbit trail 

At one point, early in the ride on Saturday, I began to break a sweat and immediately began to itch madly. Inaccessible points across my back and up and down my spine. Torture! My layering was wrong! I had to do something - so I pulled off in a neighborhood baseball park and hid myself behind the closed concession stand, and redressed.

Changing station

Then the road again.

Behind the Worcester Airport

Rounding the end of the runway

February 21, 2016
Holden Reservoir

Elm Park, Woo City
February 21, 2016

Flying Dreams

"Thoughts Become Things" 

Drinking a Night Crawler India Dark ale from Flying Dreams Brewing Company in the Woo, and I read on the label (the art work of which looks like a cross between Mouse's legendary Grateful Dead illustrations, and Shaolin graffiti ) the slogan "Dream Big. Thoughts Become Things."

Say no more.

Let's see, I dream of a winter where it never snows, though it does get cold, cold enough to crisp up the air nice and clean and sharp. Where the deciduous trees, bereft of foliage, etch themselves proudly against a shamelessly naked landscape. When the daytime temperature strays into the 50s and the sun radiates down through a gossamer blanket of gauzy clouds. When traffic has, without explanation, forsaken the roads and a cyclist can sail along near the middle of the road, plenty of room on either side.

The dream came true, if only for a day. February 4, 2016 - more absurd warmth and spring-like conditions. The morphic resonant presence hums with benign complacency. It could all change in a day but for the moment of Thursday the 4th, six weeks after winter solstice with light lingering now in the sky 'til 5:00, the whole winter seems behind us.

I honestly didn't know yesterday, when I saddled up and set out, that winter would roar back to life just 8 hours later. As I slept into the wee hours this morning (which, being February 5, is also the anniversary of the onset of the infamous Blizzard of '78), light snow began to fall. By 7:00 heavy snow was falling steadily and at times with ferocity, and it kept up all morning. But that is a tale for another time.

As for yesterday, ride #6 of 2016 was an enjoyable 18.5 mile foray to the Reservoir and up South Rd and back, a ride marked by long vistas into the snow-less landscape, by dry roads, by pleasantly cool conditions for which I nailed the correct combination of tights, bibs, tops, wraps, gloves, paper bags, neck warmers, etc. Ka-ching, Kwai Chang Caine.

I opted to ride out of town via Institute Rd and the climb to Bancroft Tower. Standing and hammering the pedals with enthusiasm up the steep climb, at a point near the top I overtook a runner who then overtook me when I stopped to take the obligatory photo, and who continued right on past and up to the tower itself.

Bancroft Tower and runner, February 4, 2016

Then the plunge down the other side and through the neighborhoods -

Pine Tree Dr, Valley Hill Dr, Mabelle St, Kinnicutt St, Westbrook Rd, Richmond Ave, Aylesbury Rd, Moreland St, Walter St, Paradox Dr, Seconset St, Copperfield Rd, Grenada St, Rich St, Tory Fort Lane

- to get to Mower & Olean Sts. The dash to the reservoir and the race along the western edge at pace. Then the left onto South Rd for the familiar & beloved mile+ climb to the top in order to turn around and whir right back down. Woods bare of snow. Stone walls, gray green, recede up the wooded hillsides into vague distance. Crows crow-cackle in skeletal oaks, whimsy in their caws as if they too were happy to gambol about in such gentle weather.

I cawed them back in brotherhood. The brotherhood of Shad.

Bare woods of February 4th 2106 along the Holden reservoir

Lower Holden Reservoir, Feb 4, 2016

Dubstoevsky in European neck warmer, a gift of Scrodicus Frankfurtus
February 4, 2016

January Gone

End of January, a generally ferocious month that acquiesced this year, it rolled over and opted out of winter. Sweet! Sunday, the last day of the month, 53 degrees and sunny!

Dry roads. Road bike style. The fifth ride of the year, of the month. Eleven months to go. Vivaldi's Four Seasons and we've squeaked through one month of the first.

Where Harris St meets River Rd

Dubstoevksy on the bridge

El Nino

If indeed we have El Nino to thank for this winter's benign weather, than I bow low and doff my helmet to the great phenomenon. Last year at this time, Snowmageddon had set in with ferocity, burying the Woo in what became record amounts of snow. This year? Well, today, January 30, the temperature climbed into the 40s, the sun shone, small patches of vestigial snow from last weekend's dusting continued to melt, and the roads were clear and dry.

It being Saturday, and the weather cooperating so nicely, I had little choice but to duck out for a morning ride. A road bike ride, no less. Oddly, my last ride a week ago on the Crux Elite ended with me pulling into Shad HQ and hearing an odd clicky sound from my rear wheel. Dismounting, I peered at the wheel and sure enough there it was, a snapped spoke. Must have happened in the last block. So that bike is now in the shop getting repaired (and getting a new chain and handlebar wrapping). So road bike it was.

A Reservoir run, not a loop but a straight shot out and then up South Rd to get some climbing in, then back down, though descending carefully, very carefully. It was above freezing and the roads basically dry and not even that sandy but some damp-looking spots suggested possible ice so I took no chances, slowing down accordingly and attending to the bike handling like a jeweler cutting diamonds.

There was no danger. The ride was terrific. And despite only sporadic riding over the last two months, I continue to feel strong and comfortable when I'm out there. The goal, of course, is to maintain some modicum of conditioning so that the Rasputitsa won't be a total sufferfest. The weather and the course conditions I have no control over, but I can work on my state of physical preparedness between now and then. Here's hoping El Nino's charm keeps pampering the northeast.

Reservoir Vistas

Lower Reservoir

Upper Reservoir approach

Upper Reservoir

Images from Woo City

Got out for a cross bike meander through the neighborhoods, climbing the big hill up to Green Hill Park, and then to Bancroft Tower, and generally perusing the quiet Sunday streets before the snow and cold arrives this week.

Heading up West St

Getting off road right in town

Top of the hill and into the woods

But where are the skaters?

Green Hill Park golf course

Green Hill Park and pond

Industrial style

Looking for Dickens

Have a 'Gansett, already

Vladivostock

Grotesques on the WPI athletic building

Detail

WPI Gymnasium, the building is being torn down this year but they are saving the grotesques

Bancroft Tower, January 17, 2016

WPI Salvaging 100-year old 'grotesques' from campus building.

January 3, 2016

Some days, when opportunity presents itself, you have to seize it, even if "seizing it" means little more than an hour's low key spin. So went today, Sunday, January 3, a big booming sunny day in New England. I didn't have a ton of energy but I went out for a Reverse Reservoir Loop anyway and notched the second ride of 2016.

La Rue de Shad

Bancroft Tower, January 3, 2016
Holiday Style

Team Shad fans line the road hoping for a glimpse of their heroes

Holden Reservoir, northern tip

The road ahead ...