Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Sunday Cross Bike Ride


7 of us went for a cross bike ride last Sunday and it went like this: Nice warm up and then over to the tracks. KABLING! (the sound of a bad bunny hop over the rail), phsst, phsst, phsst. Flat number one. Back on the bikes we continue up tracks picking up the pace as we go. We're now flying when BANG, phsst, phsst, phsst. Flat number two. Back at it and we make 100 feet when KABOOM!, phssssssst! Flat number three. Riding once again we make it to the summer bridge, up a few run ups, up the fire road to the top of hill, do the long single track decent and finally back to the summer bridge and then back to the rail grade for the ride back to the U. KABLEWIE! Phsst, phsst, phsst. Flat tire number four. With all of the flats this ride is starting to take longer than some people’s hall passes will allow and they started bailing out. The fours of us left hit the little single track into the Pogonip and just as we exited flat number five hits. After fixing the last flat the rest of us threw in the towel, went back to Hwy 9 and rode home.
Two things were quite apparent after this ride: frame pumps absolutely rock and carry heaps of spare tubes until everybody remembers how to ride their cross bike again!

Monday, June 25, 2007

Alley Cat

David Gill and I were debating what to do last weekend and had decided to hit up CCCX mountain bike race #8 on Saturday, but on Wednesday we saw the ad for the alley cat race in Santa Cruz on the How to Avoid the Bummer Life website http://www.howtoavoidthebummerlife.com/weblog/archives/2007/06/bikes_and_stuff_about_other_st.html#more
and decided to try it instead. We then made a plan that we would do the Saturday morning road ride and go to coffee afterwards and then race back to my house and switch to cross bike and then go to the alley cat race. It was going according to plan until David called me Friday night and said he couldn't’t make the Sat. morning road ride, but would instead meet at my house and then we would go to the alley cat race. Upon hearing the news, Nancy promised to make me pancakes if I wouldn’t get up at the crack of dawn to go riding. I took the hint and slept in. After a late breakfast of eggs and toast (no milk=no pancakes) I went to my house and to meet David. David shows up in his kit smelling like he had just ridden for 2 hours. So asked him what was up. He informed me that his plans had changed and he went on the Sat. ride and had sent me an email at 11:00 the previous night to inform me. By looks of David I thought I had got the better end of the deal!

We rode down to the Bicycle Church on the end of Pacific Ave. Upon arrival I notice two things: 1. David and I appear to be much older than the 50 or so riders milling about. 2. We are the only ones deck out head to toe in lycra. We pay up and sign the release and receive the instructions/map. In no particular order we are to retrieve something from the Boardwalk to prove we were there, go over to the church located in the center of the circles on the Westside and pick up a spoke sitting in a bucket somewhere on the premises, go to Café Pergolesi and have the barista sign our card, go to the Goodwill near Harvey West and by a cup and utensils so you can eat and drink after the race (note: carrying around a glass in my jersey pocket gave me more incentive than normal on not to crash!). After Goodwill we were then supposed to head up the railroad tracks (avoiding north bound tourist train), up Fcon, Ucon, Blair Witch, Chinquapin, through the twin gates, over and down the Woodcutters Trail to Smith Grade, up Smith, down Empire, back into Grey Whale/ Wilder, down to the Eucalyptus grove, over to the Enchanted loop and finally finishing somewhere on Baldwin Loop. As you may have noticed, there was a lot of dirt in this alley cat and this is what appealed to David and me the most!

At the start, half of the herd lined up pointing in one direction and the half the other. Someone yelled go and I was not prepared for what followed: utter disregard for any rules of traffic right of ways! It was a free for all! I was even called a “pussy” for slowing down at a stop sign. With absolutely zero warm up the next thing that happened were my legs turning to cement! I struggled to keep up with David. Apparently his two hour warm up had done wonders for him! The whole urban portion of this race was a complete blur of dodging pedestrians, turistas, car and other cyclist. By the time we hit the train tracks, David had about 25 bike lengths on me and I was pedaling perfect squares. Even though I was feeling terrible, I did manage to pass a few people on the tracks. By the time I got to the top of the Ucon, I was sure I was going to chunder! I had no idea where D. Gill was or where I sat in the race, But I never saw another rider until Smith Grade where I was passed by three other racers. By the time I got to the top of Smith I was starting to feel human again. The decent down into Wilder was very high speed and I over cooked one corner and almost ended up in the forest! I arrived at the finish and counted 7 other riders. David was in second place, but over cooked a corner just before the end and was passed finishing in third. The guy who won was a messenger from S.F. and the guy in second rode a fixed gear! David and I both enjoyed this race a lot and after 3 very foamy beers (yep, somebody hauled a keg up the hill to a remote location in Wilder, plus a very large cooler and food!) we split.


Friday, June 22, 2007

Stuff

Stuff

Somewhere around Monday Miss Nancy and I decided we would have to have a sushi fix on Friday night after work. Friday finally rolled around and we hopped on our bikes and rode downtown to our favorite sushi bar. We were both very hungry and didn’t care whether we were seated at a table or at the bar. We waited 10 minutes outside on the sidewalk and people watched, this is Santa Cruz after all! The bar open first and we were seated right at the corner of it. Our order showed up in record time and we dug in. A new couple sat down 90 degrees to my right and in one glance I decided that their last name had to be Stickupthebutt. I know you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but these two had I’m really up tight written all over them. From Mrs. Stickupthebutt prim and proper absolutely bolt upright appearance to his immaculate clothing, very taunt facial skin and bludging forehead veins, these two looked like stoke victims in the making. I was ignoring them and concentrating myself on wasabi overdosing when I overheard them ordering. It was tight quarters and I wasn’t trying to ease drop, but after hearing what Mrs. Stickupthebutt ordered I could now understand their current predicament. Mrs. Stickupthebutt didn’t like sushi and was only there to placate Mr. Stickupthebutt appetite for raw fish which of course made them both up tighter. I also knew that the kitchen would never get Mrs. S order right. Just about the time of my 7th wasabi overdose their orders shows up and sure as shit her order is wrong. This caused an instant reaction from Mr. S and by the time we paid the check and were heading out the door. Mr. S had 3 of the wait staff and the manager of the place running in circles to cure the problem.
“Oh, for _uck sacks!” I thought to myself. “Would you go to Mc Donald to order sushi? We you go to your local rib joint and order a veggie burger? Would you go to the Thai restaurant and try and get roast beef?” I think not! “Then why in the hell would you put yourself in this position?” The only answer I could come up with is that is what the Stickupthebutt’s like!


The traffic around town last weekend was monumental. It started building around Wednesday and just got worse everyday. It seems everybody and their dog was graduating from something. If you weren’t riding a bike across town you weren’t going to get there very fast. I could feel the tension mounting with the motorist as we rode to sushi on Friday night. A.K. and Hoppy and I were riding back from the Sat. ride and had a couple of people hanging out of their windows of their cars screaming at us. We weren’t doing any wrong or obnoxious, people were just frustrated and or jealous. We has decided we needed a little extracurricular activity after the morning ride and our plan was to ride our road bikes up through the dirt at UCSC, over to Smith Grade and then back down to the coast and home. We hit the first stop sign on High St. and stopped and waited our turn and then keep going. There was an endless parade of cars going to campus for graduation and apparently we had pissed off another driver who had to punch the accelerator behind us and missed A.K. with her mirror by about an inch. She got her car up to about 45 before she had to hit the brakes and stop for the next stop sign 100 yards in front of us. We all had the same thought at once which was to chase her down, but instead we shook our heads and flipped her off. It reminded me of the song Racing To The Red Light.


Riding road bikes in the dirt is excellent training for cyclocross!


The Continental Divide Race has completely enthralled me! I had absolutely no idea how tuff this race is. The more I read the check in reports, review the maps and look at the pictures the more it makes my jaw drop!!! I cannot believe Rick Hunter is doing this race on a rigid bike!

http://www.greatdividerace.com/


We had a great moto on Tuesday night. I felt very strong and could really push on the pedals. I also couldn’t put my wheels in the wrong place. That was until the end of the ride. I somehow managed to scrubbed most of my speed off at the end of this rock garden. This meant I lost the preferred high line and was shifted to the not so preferred low line. In a split second I realized it was going all wrong and ejected just as my bike stopped catapulting me over the bars. I was lucky enough to clear both of my feet over the handlebar and nailed the landing. Unfortunately the landing was sloped so my ass slammed into a rock. It didn’t really start hurting till a couple of days later and I got this really nice scab that runs from cheek to cheek. Just when you feel like superman the reality check hits!

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Hey, I own a cross bike!






















Melinda and Cheeto at the S.C. crit.


I decided I needed a change. With the cyclocross season a mere 3 months away I changed my riding schedule. I blew off the Monday night road (race) ride in favor of something easier. The Monday night road ride was getting harder and harder to manage after a weekend of increased distances and work load. I decided I would go ride with the Bicycle Trip’s Monday night moto. Although mountain biking does beat you up more than road riding, I knew I could find someone in the group to ride mellow with. This seemed good in theory, except on this particular Monday the Bike Trip was having an all staff meeting after work. Bugger!

I decided on the way home that I would go for a cross bike ride by myself instead. After almost 5 months of racing and a Big Basin ride I had decided that I didn’t want to ride my cross bike ever again! So my cross bike hung in my garage for almost 4 months totally neglected and ignored. The mere fact that I wanted to ride my cross bike I took as a good sign!

Imagine to my surprise when I got home to find David Gill in my front yard feverishly working on his cross bike. I notice that he was installing one of my new road tire on his bike (remind me to change the combo to lock on my garage!).
Mike: “What are you doing?”
David: “I’m installing a road tires on my cross bike”
Mike: “Why?”
David: “So we can go road riding”
Mike: “Where’s your road bike?”
David: “At home; I couldn’t find my (road) shoes”
Mike: “But I’m not going road riding, I was going to ride my cross bike”


David then showed me his rear cross tire with a pinky sized hole in the side wall and the failed boot that had been jury rigged to get him home the last time he road the bike. I walked into the garage and grabbed a cross tire and handed it to David. I walked back into the garage and grabbed my cross bike from the rafters. It was then I noticed that I had a flat as well. I threw on my race spare wheel and we were off.

My cross bike which during the cyclocross season had become an extension of my body felt so wonderfully strange! It was almost like having a new bike. David and I headed up the train tracks, up Fcon and then up Ucon where at the top we ran into Mike Martin and Cheeto the wonder terrier. For those of you that don’t know Cheeto he has a wonderful life! He gets hauled up hill inside a backpack with his head poking out. Upon the arrival at the first single track or downhill, Cheeto is de-packed and set free. Cheeto is a single track machine! The twister it is the harder it is to keep up with him. When the trail straightens out and the mechanical advantages of gears overwhelm his 4” legs Cheeto will let you pass him if he is in the mood and If not, then it’s a fight to the next corner. Cheeto has done more drop/shuttle rides since he was a pup than most gravity junkies with 8” travel bikes will do in a life time!

So David, Mike, Cheeto and I wound and wove and zigzagged our way through loamy redwood forest singletrack behind the U. We then made our way down Mailboxes, bypassed over to Fence Line and then Down into the Poison Oak Forest. By the time we rode out of the ravine and onto Cow Pies, I was absolutely euphoric! I had truly forgotten how much fun it is to ride a drop bar cross bike in the dirt!!! This ride has got the fires burning again for the up coming cross season, but probably more important was having a kick ass ride with a couple of great friends appear out of nowhere!

Friday, June 08, 2007

Tunisian Doughnut

I just got done reading Hernando’s Blog about donuts http://vanderhoot.blogspot.com/ I had decided that all donuts are truly evil. Big boxes of them would magically appear twice a month or more at the office and I would do my absolute best to avoid them. All was going well with donut avoidance program until I was forced to have a bite of a Tunisian donut one night from the Crepe Place in S.C. With a little Nutella and fresh berries I think I have found heaven on a plate. Now I have no defense against this particular species of the donut family. The Tunisian donut made me reconsider my original thought on donuts and I have now decided that not all donuts are evil, just most of them!