Posts Tagged ‘bicycling’
Vacation Planning
Like this has never happened before. The faster I go, the behind-er I get. It doesn’t surprise me, but it seems so wrong. I am quickly running out of time before I leave for a week of vacation and I find myself unable to get into gear to prepare for departure. I feel like I have been afflicted by some zombie disease. My thought process is slowing to a crawl and motivation seems to be going with it.
I am thrilled at the idea of being free of the usual daily responsibilities and spending extended time with a group of very precious people, but that has not resulted in any rush of energy toward getting valuable tasks addressed in preparation. Most notably, since my vacation will involve riding a bicycle all day long for a week, this year I failed to get enough miles on the saddle to condition my butt in advance of the trip. I may finally have found a reason to test the use of a chamois cream, but my concern is less about skin hotspots and more about tenderness from prolonged pressure on the sit bones. It’s feels like a bruise until the body adjusts and builds up the equivalence of a callous in the region.
Yesterday, as I toiled away on an unexpected kitchen sink plumbing adventure, it occurred to me that I have done very little in the way of mental preparation for the annual week of bicycling and camping that kicks off in 4 days. I think that is because the trip is something I have done many times before with a common group of precious friends. I know what to expect, so I am less inclined to fret over preparations.
Unfortunately, it is feeling like I may have swung too far in the other direction and am at risk of finding myself unprepared at the last-minute. If something ends up being neglected, I’m hoping it is a chore at home that I overlooked which I can just deal with when I return. As long as I have my bike gear, the tent and sleeping bag, and a few things to wear, I’ll be ready to vacate.
Sunday, after a bit of anxious searching, Cyndie rescued me by finding where my tent and sleeping pad were stowed. The most critical elements are beginning to accumulate into a pile in the basement, so I’m probably in better shape than my foggy mind is making me feel.
The next phase involves the irritating challenge of a nagging perception that I am forgetting something. How do you figure out what you are forgetting if you don’t know whether you are forgetting anything or not?
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Almost Frozen
Spring has yet to deliver a truly warm day. Just the opposite, in fact, as we are getting some very cold mornings the last two days, pert-near down to freezing again. I sure hope the plants that are down in the labyrinth won’t be harmed.
I have mowed the labyrinth one time since the snow disappeared. The growth between the paths is already tall enough to cover some of the rocks, giving it a very green look.
The next area that is in desperate need of mowing is the hill below the house, which I think of as our back yard. It has turned into a patchwork of spots that include grass growing fast and tall, contrasted with areas of little-to-no growth at all. In between, there are sections that have little wildflowers growing beside scattered weeds that look like they mean business. It doesn’t look much like a lawn at all right now, and will be well served by a first close-cut of the season.
Won’t happen today. I’m off to Rich’s for a day of biking, followed by a barbecue. There is so much work to be done on the ranch right now that the only way to get myself to do some cycling in preparation for the Tour of Minnesota ride in the middle of June is by making a commitment to join friends in some location far away from home.
Today’s ride is expected to enjoy some sun and nicer weather, which is a welcome change from two weeks ago, when the gathering was initially scheduled to occur. I’ll take it. It will give the paddocks another day of drying while I’m away, helping decrease the amount of mud to be dealt with when I get back in there to do some much-needed cleanup.
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Other Things
There are other things than horses for us to deal with around here, even though the new herd is commanding the majority of our attention. Last Saturday, we did sneak away long enough to attend the “booya” hosted by our fencing contractors. There was plenty of good eatin’ to be had, but what really made the night for us was a trio playing blues music of a quality that could headline any venue in the city of Chicago. In a pole barn in the countryside outside of River Falls, no less! It was a wonderful surprise, not that I hadn’t been warned, but this was way better than I had expected.
Over the weekend, our trees came to life with the colors of fall. Each morning we would find that it looked like someone had been up all night painting leaves. I was walking Delilah in the evening when I spotted the setting sun through the trees. It made for a nice picture.
Yesterday was my weekday that I stay home from work, and I did some catching up on chores that have been neglected during the final preparations to get the horses here. I sorted through the pile of clothes that were pouring out of my closet and put away items that were clean, and washed things that needed it.
It was a perfect day for hanging laundry outside to dry: warm sunshine and gusting winds.
We have been here over 11 months now, and I had yet to ride my mountain bike on our trails. I think that is a function of how much the projects to get us ready for horses have dominated the bulk of our time. Well, no more. With the horses now here, with things pretty much in order, I felt the need to address some of the areas that have been suffering from neglect. I pumped up the tires and lubed the chain for the old bike’s maiden voyage around Wintervale.
The trip was made even sweeter by the company of our dog, Delilah. This will be a great way to get her some exercise that will burn off her energy. With her little orange vest on, we headed into the woods, down the steepest hill.
I don’t think she knew what she was in for, as we went from zero to high-speed in an instant. She loves to chase, and I made the perfect “rabbit” out front to encourage her to sprint after me. As the grade changed to flat and then eventually to up-hill, my speed dropped to near zero. Delilah would pass me by and go running ahead on the trail. It is kind of deflating to have her out front, pausing frequently to look back at me, as if to ask, “Are you coming?”
Or maybe, with my wheezing and panting, she was asking, “Are you going to be alright?”
Since it was my first ride in a long time, I made it a short one, to save my legs and lungs for other pursuits, and then went to the paddocks to let the horses out into the big field. After that, I needed to mow the lawn, as we have been neglecting this chore for weeks.
It was a day for tending to things not directly related to the horses, and by evening, I had brought some order to the chaos. It was a good way to wrap up September. The month that vanished into thin air.
How the heck did October get here already?
More Rain
This morning, it is raining, …again. But that is okay. We got smart. We figured out a way to appreciate the excessive wetness. Yesterday we planted grass on the two scars left by the recent work in our yards. On the back hill, we are covering the dirt left from the geothermal project, and in the front, it was the septic drain lines that were dug up and repaired.
Let it rain.
It doesn’t seem to make any difference to the area down by the barn, because it has just stayed wet, no matter what. If it is already wet, I am losing my ability to care if it gets any wetter. For as soggy as it remains down there, I’m thinking we won’t be able to have the fence work done until fall. I honestly don’t know what to expect. Yesterday, before the current precipitation moved in, there was still standing water on the driveway in front of the barn.
The fence crew cannot bring in their equipment to do the work without creating a disaster of mud and ruts. We’ve already got enough of those ruts. We will wait. What else can we do?
The only problem with today’s band of precipitation moving across the state is that it is soaking and chilling my friends on the bike ride. This is obviously not the reason I didn’t go on the ride this year, but I will admit that it is one aspect of that adventure that I am very happy to be missing.
My friends have been generous in sharing photos from the trip, giving me the opportunity to see some of the smiling faces of a few of the wonderful people who I only get to see this one time of year. They are looking great, and it gives me good energy to see them, even if only through pictures.
They ride north out of Ashby, MN, this morning, pedaling through the rain to Frazee, which isn’t far from Detroit Lakes, MN, just east of Fargo, ND.
Since the precipitation appears to be moving from south-to-north, maybe the wind is at their backs.
Right Bike
I am not buying a new bike. I’ve come close a few times over the last few years, but haven’t taken that last step.
Last June, as the date of my annual bike trip approached, I knew that I had not prepared my 18-year-old Trek 520 touring cycle to the degree I prefer. It wasn’t in optimum condition, but I figured I could make do. I was right. I made do.
In the middle of that week of the trip, I visited the mechanic and asked for his opinion of my chain. I knew it was worn, and due for replacement, I just didn’t know how worn. There is a gauge that very quickly demonstrates the level of wear. If you wait too long, the stretching of the chain will wear the cogs of the gears enough that you need to replace the cassette of gears along with the chain. I waited too long.
At that point, since the mechanic didn’t have the replacement cassette I would need, he suggested just riding the rest of the trip and having the work done later. It took me until last weekend, a month after getting home, to finally commit to taking care of it. I considered ordering the parts and doing the work myself, but I was interested in consulting with someone about the task.
I was wondering if it deserved an upgrade in quality of parts. I was also wondering if other parts should be getting simultaneous attention. That brought me to the question of whether the bike itself was worth the additional investment I was considering spending, or if I should get back to thinking about a new bike as replacement.
I took it to my local shop and was lucky to receive the attention of the owner, the very person with whom I was hoping to talk. Taking into account how many miles I estimated to have put on the bike in the years I have owned it, as well as the type, and frequency, of riding I do, he offered the opinion that the bike was well-worth the investment to get it back into top condition.
It already has a replacement set of wheels from original, with upgraded quality hubs. They will overhaul the wheel bearings, true the wheels, replace chain and cassette, change some cables and housings, and calibrate everything. I won’t even get my hands dirty. It will cost a small fraction of the price of a new bike, and it will feel like brand new to me.
I am very happy to get this done. He even gave me a tour of the new purchase options that were the next step up from mine for road riding, which was very generous, since he knew I had no intention of buying. (To my good friend, Murph: Yours was right in the ballpark, if I had gone that route! [Thanks, again, for the offer]) I am satisfied that my old touring machine is still a good match for me. His opinion was that a switch in bikes might buy me about 2 or 3 mph on my average speed, which I would gladly welcome, but for my riding, it’s really not a factor. I’m fine, right where I’m at.
My friends will just have to keep working hard on their new bikes, or they might find that I am actually able to pass them.
Talking leTour
My favorite pastime in July is watching the television coverage of the Tour de France bike race. My days at work right now are long and very busy. I have been arriving home exhausted. Then, I turn on the prime-time re-broadcast of the day’s stage of the race and I watch guys whose work makes my exhaustion seem insignificant. Yikes, they have endurance!
Thomas Voeckler impresses the heck out of me, and makes funny faces while he is working hard on the pedals. He is demonstrating some amazing climbing and accomplished a couple of stage wins. Bravo! Stole the polka dot jersey yesterday.
Frank Schleck sited for a banned substance?! I’m amazed riders still do anything to risk disqualification. He denies doping.
Cadel Evans didn’t have the legs this year. It’s tough to watch the big competitors not being able to muster what it takes to stay on pace, let alone the pity when they can’t offer up a true threat of attack. He drops to 7th place, eight-some minutes back.
Bradley Wiggins seems to have a firm control of his lead. He’s bringing out a big number of British fans and Union Jack flags everywhere! Could be the first British rider to capture the Tour.
George Hincapie is still riding like he’s a young kid, though he’s not.
I like Frenchman, Thibaut Pinot, and Slovak, Peter Sagan, of the young riders putting in impressive performances this year.
Sagan has stolen some of the thunder from my previous favorite sprinter, Mark Cavendish, as Cav has been putting the success of Wiggins and team Sky ahead of personal ambitions. There is still hope for some excitement in the final day’s sprint in Paris, where Cavendish has won the last three years. He would sure like to make it 4 in a row. I’m confident he will have the full support of the team to get into position for a shot at that goal.
After an evening devouring the coverage of each day’s stage, I feel a lot less fatigued by the demands of my Tour de Day-Job.
I wish the coverage didn’t have to end, but this year, I’ll have the London Olympics to fill in the void that follows. No rest for the weary, don’tcha know.
Trip Pics
I finally got around to uploading images from the bike trip to my Picasaweb photo album page. Check ’em out and enjoy my views (and a few taken by friends) from our trip:
Drama Continues
This is a continuation of yesterday’s post, “Rain Delay”
It was about 20 miles to the first scheduled pause that Thursday morning, a convenience store and gas station at a wide spot of the road called, Clam Lake. We reached the limited cover of the overhang of their roof just as the rain began to establish itself as a soaker. One after another of our group stepped inside to get out of the rain, until the place was filled beyond capacity.
Bikes were parked around the gas pumps and stacked 4-deep under the eaves. They had a television overhead, tuned to the weather channel, and we could see the radar image of doom headed our way. It was going to get worse, before it would get better. Our conductor, Jim Klobuchar, reported that the clerk was okay with our waiting it out in their store.
We entertained ourse
lves with conversation, and slowly but surely found more and more things to purchase. It started with drinks, moved on to snacks, and eventually included neck gators with skulls on them. Meanwhile, lightning flashed, thunder clapped, and the electricity flashed on and off a few times.
An hour passed. Then another. It was one of the few times when everyone in our group was in the same place at the same time, with nothing to 
do. It occurred to me that it was a perfect opportunity for the song I wrote, the one that makes reference to, “the trials of surviving a ride through a day-long storm.” The sing-along chorus would work well in this situation, I felt. Too bad I didn’t have my guitar.
I went for it anyway, a capella. Despite not being able to remember all of the verses, standing in front of the checkout counter, singing to the captive audience, worked as well as I could hope. It was a good lift of spirits, and refreshed our bonds of shared adventure. This trip is what we all do, rain or shine.
Eventually, the most threatening band of the storm moved past, and we were given clearance to go out into the rain to pedal to our lunch destination, about 17 miles away.
By the time we reached that stop, everyone was soaked, and a bit chilly. The proprietor met us at the door with towels, which was greatly appreciated, and quite frankly, necessary. After a pizza lunch, the next leg to Hayward would take us right past the driveway of my in-law’s lake home, where we had conveniently stashed a couple of cars at the beginning of the week. I was thoroughly pleased with our fore-planning. A small group of us would pull in there and dry off, warm up, and use the cars to rescue others, after which we could then pick up our bags of gear that would be at the school in town.
Of all the difficulty and drama that we endured in the rain that day, the issue that created the most trouble for everyone ended up being the handling of our bags. Our loyal courier, John, had attempted to unload the bags into the school gym, but was forced out by a representative of the building, being told to place them outside. They sat in the rain long enough to get very, very wet, before the Superintendent showed up and said the bags should be in the building. Poor John had to move them multiple times, and then ended up looking like the bad guy, for letting all our stuff get soaked. It definitely wasn’t his fault.
Word spread that John did the best he could to protect our things, and we were ultimately able to offer up an ovation of appreciation for all he does for us through the week.
Our night at the lake home (while those who failed to find a motel room in town, slept in the gym) was a mix of luxury and laundry. Clothes and gear were spread far and wide in an effort to dry out for the final leg of the ride on Friday, when most folks biked back to their cars.
I and a few friends wouldn’t be biking that stretch of the trip. We stayed one more day, to relax on the lake. It was a wonderful opportunity, especially after that day of riding in the rain.
Rain Delay
Cyndie reported some dramatic news on Friday, then she went out of town for the weekend, to her brother’s cabin in Maine, and out of communication. I haven’t heard from her since. I’ll write more about that, when I know more.
So, back to this year’s bike trip. I was dreaming this morning that I was on the trip again, and we were riding in a school bus that was navigating the streets of a town. The locals had marked our route by placing bicycles along the center line, like cones, to guide the bus to our destination. The bus was making a turn and trying to climb up a very steep hill (Bayfield, anyone?). The driver missed a shift and was rolling backwards to get back to a place he could start over and try again. Then, suddenly we were walking up the hill.
We came to a house where we would all stay. I was trying to claim a place to sleep on some furniture in the middle of a room.
I don’t know why a mind does this. The dream was an amalgam of situations that really happened, but morphed, as dreams usually are.
I didn’t ride in a bus this year, but some folks did.
One of the big dramas of the week played out on Thursday, as we pedaled from Mellen to Hayward, the second-to-last day of the trip. I distinctly recall Jim announcing that it was going to be a great day, as he wandered among the tents with his whistle, making his 5:30 a.m. wake-up stroll. He says that often, during these daily rousings, so it can mean a lot of different things, but I sensed it indicated fair weather. I let my guard down a bit.
My first hint of the truth came from John, our trusty baggage handler. When I handed my bag of gear (tent, sleeping bag, clothes) to him, for loading into the trailer, he asked to confirm that I had my rain gear. I made light of it, figuring that I had my riding jacket on the bike, which is all I tend to bother with for riding in rain, as well as a cover for my trunk pack, which is always in one of the pockets.
Then he asked the same question again, in a more serious tone, to be sure I understood what I was in for.
The morning was overcast, but it didn’t appear threatening, so I chose not to dwell on the subject. Also, this was the day we would ride right past the driveway to my in-laws’ lake home, where I planned to spend an extra day, luxuriating with a few friends, while the rest of the group rode the final leg back to their cars. I knew I had options. Good options.
I was feeling pretty strong on the bike that morning, and tagged along on Tim’s wheel at a healthy pace. In an hour or so, the sky took on a more defined color, mostly a dark gray, above the trees in the view ahead of us. We could tell it would be a bit of a race to reach our first rest stop before water started falling from the sky. I think we all picked up the pace just a bit as the drops started painting the pavement. We knew we were close.
the drama will continue, tomorrow…
Relative Something 