Commuting and Randonneuring lights, revisited

It's hard to keep up, but I'm trying to revisit some of the older, informational posts on this blog to ensure things are still relevant and current.  One most-affected-by-time post recently gave me a good laugh, so I figured it was probably the one to try and focus upon.  That post focused on Commuter Lights, and so, SO much has changed in such a short period of time that even writing a new post risks futility, as technology is moving at a rapid pace these days.  It's as exciting as the computer industry, where reviews and publications on the latest hardware are outdated relics before the ink even dries.  Lighting technology in general is moving at almost the same pace.  Hybrid vehicle technology and the general crux of "green" thinking has inspired battery technology to nearly keep step - with trusty NiMH (Nickel-Metal Hydride) batteries still being king of the market at this writing, and LiION close in its heels.  Advances in Lithium ION, Lithium Polymer, Nickel-Zinc, and advanced capacitive storage are emerging - and combined with the latest LED emitter technology the combinations are simply incredible.  The only thing perhaps more staggering are the lower and lower prices this kind of gear is selling for.  It's an exciting time.

In the last writing, halogen was still a "buzz word", and things like NiteRider's old Digital Headtrip were making headlines.  Fifteen watts of halogen on your helmet was amazing stuff - but right as Halogen was peaking in bicycle circles, it seemed that HID (high-intensity discharge) was beginning to stir things up.  Ridiculously expensive, but insanely bright, HID lights were king of the trails and streets for a few good years - but ultimately proved sensitive to vibrations, were power-hungry, and bulbs were expensive.  Right about then, LEDs started showing up.  At first, they were near comical and strictly "be seen" lights.  A mainstay of taillight products for years, it initially seemed the emitters just weren't up to the job of being anything but power-friendly position-marking lights.  Anemic beams, diffuse, with confusing colors - it was sometimes downright scary to ride with one... I remember trialing several, and sticking with my trusty halogen generator system.  With the correct optics, even as brighter Halogen battery lights came available and HID started to make shadows of anyone else's lights, the German optics of the old-school Bisy and Busch+Muller halogen systems - even at a measly 3W - still put lots of very usable light on the road.

Looking back, only a couple years later, I can't believe some of the stuff I used to "be able to see with".  By comparison to what's available today, they all seem silly - even the old top-dollar halogen generator lights, and big 30W halogen battery systems.  Even HID lights, once thought un-beatable, have been completely dethroned by LEDs in the areas of brightness, beam pattern, run-time, weight, efficiency, and cost.  Today, assuming you can even FIND anything besides it on the bike store shelves, if you aren't running LED lighting - you probably aren't riding at night.  

I was most excited, to be honest, when LED technology finally arrived for the generator-hub crowd.  I purchased my generator system at a time when halogen was the only thing available - and it was still expensive.  Even a 5W halogen rechargeable headlight would cost over $100, and would have a run time that would have barely gotten me home.  I instead was using an old Cateye Micro "Halogen II" handlebar mounted light, which used a micro-sized halogen bulb and produced 2.4W of output.  The optics were descent, and you'd get a usable beam of light projected onto the road that would serve you up to about 15-16 MPH.  Downhills were experiments in faith.  Yet, for years, that light got me home - night after night.  With LR3 (AA) drycell rechargeable technology still being a bit "fringe" and also expensive, however, I was running through disposable alkaline cells at the rate of a 4-pack every fourth commute day.  On some well-lit roads, I'd ride by streetlight - switching the light off completely to save battery.  When I finally ponied up for a generator system, it was with the knowledge that it would pay for itself in disposable AA's in only a year.  After well over TEN years of use now, it's safe to say that it has done that easily.  I had no complaints about the generator system's halogen beam for years - knowing I never had to plug anything in or replace cells opened up worlds of possibilities, saved money and time, and made things like long night rides a worry-free affair.  It wasn't until LED lights started showing up that I developed "lumen-envy", but LED technology combined with improved optics proved to be a perfect marriage to the existing generator systems - and soon, I was part of the LED party, too.  

However, with run-times exceeding DAYS instead of hours in some extreme cases, the same possibilities that the generator system opened up ten years ago are available to anyone for often a fraction the costs - and it can easily be moved from bike-to-bike... especially in contrast to generator systems, bikes across many genres and wheel-sizes in your stable.  On that note, you don't even have to buy a "bicycle-specific" light to enjoy the benefits of night-time riding.  Any purchase, especially in tough economic times, should be smart -- and, that brings up the notion of multi-tasking products.  Where it may not make good financial sense to purchase a "bicycle light", one can often make the argument for a good LED flashlight... and now, usually for far less money than a bicycle-specific light, you have a flashlight for around the house, the campsite, the garage, AND the bike.  Zip-ties, an old length of inner-tube, a silicon arm-bracelet for your favorite cause, duct tape, or some combination of ingenuity and old reflector mounts or clamps can easily adapt any flashlight or torch to your handlebars, and you're off into the darkness.  A recent post from the Kansas Cyclist touches on this perfectly, and I have seen Noah from KC-Bike ride many of our night-time events with a smartly purposed LED MagLite... and from any angle, these lights are just as bright and effective as any "bike specific" system.

The problem, often, is choice.  You can have LED lights that are bike or non-bike specific and do a fantastic job lighting the road and rendering you conspicuous to motorists around you - but where to begin??  Pick your price point, and enjoy -- the tech will amaze you as much as the output of these latest emitters will.  It would be an exhaustive effort for this author to try and keep step with everything the market has to bear currently - but there are a myriad of resources to research these things:  Candlepower Forums is a great source if you really want to geek-out - especially for the still-very-relevant homebrew crowd, where dime-to-dime, you can probably outshine most commercial offerings with some elbow grease and a soldering iron.  MY personal favorites are, in no particular order, are listed as links below - based on lights I've either owned or had the pleasure of messing around with for a weekend:

I will remind the reader that this is very much from a "pick your price" perspective.

The first two on the list, specifically, know no boundaries when it comes to power output, run-time, and low-weight racing systems for serious off-road 12/24-hour competitions, and the prices reflect that passion.  Sticker shock will be a factor... but, taking advantage of these companies expertise at their lower price points does not disappoint, and you can find a seriously well-made commuter light.

Still, also keep in mind - just like Kansas Cyclist touches on, and from what I've seen from Noah's MagLite set-up - there is no reason to spend hundreds unless you demand a specific, bicycle solution - especially if you seldom venture off-road.  From a few hundred feet away the difference between the beam of a $10 LED flashlight and a $200 LED bicycle-light can appear almost indiscernible.  From the saddle, however, it will depend on terrain, your individual eyesight, and your intent.  If nothing else, this list of links will demonstrate both the state of the art and what's possible at multiple price levels.

Finally - know your numbers:  like anything sold these days, marketing is an important tool.  Read this.  Lumens, candlepower, LUX -- they can be confusing.  More can be better, but not always, and it depends greatly on how it's measured.  So, balanced against price and your goals - be sure you know what you're buying.  Optics can play a big part in this, and it's especially prevalent at LOWER price points - so, if you are looking at a $30.00 bike light that claims 10,000 lumens, be sceptical.  Is there spill?  Will you be able to see 2 feet to either side?  What's the run time?  There's no free lunch - so demand good specs when shopping!

Remember - ride safely:  bright lights are not a replacement for responsible riding, and good reflective gear so you remain visible - even when your 4,000 Lumen monster is pointed the other direction... and that's possibly no exaggeration:  at this writing, there are people testing new systems for the 2012 and 2013 season, some exceeding 4,000 lumens.  Un-real!

...and as of 2020, up to 16,000 lumens in some cases...altho, to be fair these are generally off-road trail lights.  You can bomb the singletrack on a moonless night with almost full confidence these days, with real, usable run-times. 

(...updated March 2020... and the light output and quality, features, charging times, and run times keep improving, month-over-month it seems.  Tough to keep up, but LEDs are clearly not going anywhere.)

Below are some of the products I hold in high regard from high amounts of personal use or extended testing, with asterisks next to the brands I have NOT used personally (yet).

Enjoy, and see you after dark!

Busch+Muller (generator lights)

Bontrager Flare R rear taillight
Light & Motion

Blackburn

Dinotte Lighting 

Lupine

Serfas

Sinewave Cycles*  (generator lights and hub-fed USB chargers)
Supernova* (generator lights)

MagicShine*

Exposure Lights*

Fenix*

Traffic Kills

This week has been exciting from the saddle - it's been a few weeks since the fall edition of Daylight Savings time adjustments but I think it either took a week or so for sunset to "catch up", or I've been working later hours.  Maybe both.  Either way, the days are definitely shorter.  Reflective stuff is on, lights are on AM and PM, and the guard is up - as most motorists begin to assume that bicycles on the road are no longer something their commute will contain.  Combined with the first couple of sub-freezing commutes in the early AM hours and some amazing pre-dawn skies from the clarity that comes with very cold upper air, I've been finding it strangely easier to rise early and take to the bike before traffic takes hold.  The brisk air has finally laid months of allergy suffering to rest, and aside from the usual watery eyes it hasn't been too bad.  My old layering routine came back to me pretty quickly, so I've been balanced on the line of nicely-warm but not-too-sweaty upon arrival.  Good commutes lately.

The annual "are you still riding?", and "what's the worst you'll ride in?" conversations around the "awffee" maker (a combination of "awful" and "coffee" used to describe the hot brown water that is sometimes mistakenly called coffee at my workplace) has led to some interesting and engaging discussions on the state of traffic, finding good routes, and "maybe I'll try it in the spring..."  I hope they do, really... despite the harrowing subject of the state of traffic, I honestly think a lot of people would really enjoy riding to work if they only tried.  Yes, I'm a bit mad about cycling - but I don't think one has to be nuts to have an appreciation for the difference in one's day when it starts from a saddle rather than from behind the wheel.  I think the tipping point is somewhere north of $100,000, when your wheel is perhaps trimmed in Italian leather and puts you only a few inches away from a brimming V-12 engine... then, perhaps your step might have more spring than those commuting in your average sedan - but, I don't know... I'm still waiting for a major motoring publication to contact me for that particular road test opportunity.  I'm more than happy to volunteer, gentlemen!

Yes - my motivations are pretty thin.  It's a tough nut to crack for some people, in a world where riding a bicycle immediately draws people to the conclusion that you are somewhat environmentally positioned.  Yeah, I recycle and repurpose whenever I can.  I turn off lights when I leave rooms.  I dig things like solar and wind power, and I don't like environmental waste, over-building, sprawl, strip-malls, consumerism, strip-mining, nor the like....  but I do love ridiculously expensive and often wasteful cars.  No worries, though, loyal readers.  The dangers of me ditching the bike and turning this into an upscale motoring blog are pretty slim, as I apparently missed the boat that came through town after high-school offering easy rides to would-be seven-figure earnings.  With few exceptions, I choose to depart this cubicly-divided work-drome each evening by human-powered two-wheeled methods, and I doubt that would change much with the acquisition of a fine automobile.  I still, after years of the "same old thing", love bicycling to work.  Yea, I talk dirty to it and rub it down with exotic oils, take it to dinner and send it to bed with sweat on its brow, this love of mine for the bike. 

Where was I? 

Late fall and the attendant earlier sunsets have yielded some memorable evening commutes this week -- and I've been spending the majority of that time on the bike trail instead of the streets.  Back to those concerns about the state of traffic, it seems lately that some major arterials are reaching capacity right about the time I intersect them, and overflow traffic is leaking onto my usually quiet sidestreets, with questionable results due to lack of motorist behavior changes that should accompany detouring to the "d" roads.  I either need to modify my departure time from the office, or stick to the trails - and I've been opting for the latter despite the darkness.  At the appropriate speeds my lights are more than adequate, and the reward has been relative solitude and peace.

Without having to play heads-down death-match with rush-hour, I have enjoyed amazing sunset skies with hues so beautiful I struggle to pin them to something as unromantic as a generic color name.  The smells... crunching leaves... small animals scurrying about preparing for the inevitable ...and large animals, too:  dusk-hour basically being "deer-hour" lends one to cycle the trails at a more casual speed in case of encounter, and I have been rewarded each night this week with just that, the most magnificent being a large multi-point buck just last night.  A flash of yellowish-green as my headlight beam caught his eyes -- and a big handful of brakes -- as he jumped from the brush and took to the trail in attempts to get away from my approaching threat without realizing that I'd be following along that same trail by design.  Carefully keeping my distance, the result was a deer and cyclist paceline of sorts, if only for 200 yards or so - around a twist and a bend, the buck pausing when he'd thought he'd distanced me, only to spring forward along the trail again - finally darting left to lose me for good.  That moment, almost in slow motion, of primal magnificence - the surrounding suburban landscape disappeared, there were no traffic sounds, no joggers or other bicycles... just me, following this giant creature through the forest in the darkness, his hoof falls thundering.  With his quorum nearby he could have turned on me to defend his ladies at any moment, and I know of two stories from good friends that have had encounters with deer that did not end as well - but I was afforded this faux chase instead.

... it is in moments like those where that last hill no longer hurts, there is no "work stress", you're not going to or coming from anywhere, and you have no concerns with how far you've come or how far there is to go.  No pain, no fatigue, no need for water or food, you can no longer tell what temperature it is, or isn't... nor the time of day.  Even further, there almost is no bike underneath you...  It's just you, experiencing.

A car at any price, any where, cannot replicate that.  You only get these moments in the saddle, and though they can be few and far between those are the moments that become the explanation when you cannot explain to a non-cyclist why you keep riding. 

Idealistic, yes -- there are times when riding isn't practical, where there truly aren't enough hours in the day to span the distances your day presents -- but, those that know what I know, know.  It's never long before you're back on the bike.  The surface reasons are easy... perhaps it IS environmental, perhaps it's gas savings, perhaps it's fitness -- but a lot of times for me its none of those things which REALLY bring me back to the bike ... it's the stuff I might miss, its the feelings -- the LIFE.  Had I been driving home from work last night that buck wouldn't have even existed to me, and being tucked into a steel box I wouldn't have existed as a human being to those around me... moving about in the darkness blinded by each others headlights, we aren't people anymore... we're "traffic".  Instead, back on the trail in the dark, that buck saw me and reacted, and I saw him and reacted -- and in that perfection of reactions, we were both confirmed as very much alive.

Tailwinds and traffic

Continuing the motivation that finally got me to break the easy habit of the Border Patrol route a couple months back, this time I turned my sights on Grandview, MO. to tackle the Super Big Gulp permanent route.  I have mixed memories about this route.  The last time I rode it, however, was back in 2008 - so maybe some of the negative thoughts would pass.  Only one way to find out.  Last time, the drama came right at the get-go:  back in '08, this was part of my near-600km weekend, where I tackled my September R-12 ride and the local MS-Society Ride back-to-back.  (my apologies, some of the photo links on that old post are broken - looking in to it soon).  Back then, I started the 200km route during evening rush-hour - and getting out of town proved both harrowing and frustrating.  Far too much traffic, and all of it unsympathetic to cycling pursuits as is normally the case and nothing new:  but, as a commuter I'd simply find a clever detour or back-road - as a randonneur, you have to stick to the cue sheet.  Just like poor weather or a lot of hills, I feel the same way about detouring around traffic - I stick to the route, period.  Yeah, it sucks sometimes - but that's part of the honor-system of the whole RUSA thing.  Back then, I remember not really feeling "relaxed" out on the route until well after the first control, where traffic finally died down and everyone was home and off the roads -- but, let's face it:  I started that ride at a weird time of day, something the route designer hadn't envisioned.  It's still a good route - and on a weekend morning, it's magic - the way it should be.

Cut to Friday, 3:50AM - I arrive, park, and unpack the van to prepare for a cold morning.  This was my first ride of this season where temperatures were below freezing, and I did the usual "pack everything" prep the night before, careful to be thorough - but not so much that I was paralyzed by too much choice.  The core was already handled -- I tossed back and forth a little on an extra layer for the legs, and decided against it.  Ultimately, I found myself perfectly layered up - shut the van, saddled up, rode up the street to the first control, and just about timed it perfectly so I minimized standing around in the cold morning air.  I slugged down a bizzarre (but effective) mix of black coffee and sugar-free Red Bull and then headed south on Grandview Road with a gentle tailwind helping me along.  No cars this time... no waiting... nice....

I think I've touched on this in previous posts, the differences in county design and maintenance - juxtaposed so clearly when you live in a metropolitan area that straddles a state line, the way Kansas City does.  I have positive and negative opinions about each approach, but from a riding perspective it gets tricky.  Missouri doesn't like to spend money where it doesn't have to.  Up north of the metro (and south, too) this results in nice, quiet two-lane rural highways that haven't changed much in decades - and where it makes sense, out where there is no traffic, its good riding.  When that same approach is applied to busier city centers the results are downright nerve-wracking for cycling.  Grandview, MO is one such city - and this is only really a criticism from a cycling perspective.  In Olathe, I recently watched the county, city and railroad partner on a massive project that completely elevated a level-crossing and widened the road underneath -- a project that spanned literally almost five miles in either direction on the rail line, and every street it crossed therein.  The road it benefitted still isn't one I'd consider bike-friendly, but the project as a whole seemed to improve the area and the traffic thruput.  In Grandview, however, specifically Blue Ridge Road, there are sections where you have nice, wide 4-lane opposed with a central turn lane suddenly funnel down to ancient two-lane that passes under a circa-1930's railroad tressle... and then it widens back out again.  Without traffic, it's actually kinda neat... because it hasn't changed in decades near those bridges --- but WITH traffic?  Wow.  I float back and forth between "it's nice that they haven't changed the heritage of the area", and "why haven't they updated this?".   It's an interesting region - and I don't have the space (and don't expect your patience) to argue pros and cons - the topography, the wildlife and surrounding forest, the character of the area -- they are distinct, and valuable, and I don't prefer change, generally... but, Blue Ridge is one of the only ways out of the city E/W and it can be harrowing on a bicycle at times.  Where was I?  Oh yeah...

Through the darkness and down Blue Ridge's nice, long descents (which I haven't ridden in years!) to State Line Road, and then south into the darkness near old Kenneth - startled by the air-brake hiss of an idling locomotive back in the trees near the crossing at 151st Street.  It's cold, but not terrible -- the tailwind helps with that, and the occasional roller.  I climb up to 159th and Mission, and then head south again through another glorious cycling destination of twists and turns and dives and steep climbs... Mission Road between 159th and 191st.  In the same vein as my comments a moment ago, but with the side-note that this is a generally low-traffic area:  I hope they never change this particular road.  If you live in the area and haven't ridden it - either from the north or south - pick a weekend morning, early, and check it out.  Approach from 159th, or 199th... and enjoy.

I pause at 199th for some food and a quick nature break.  The sky is miraculously clear... perfect... sharp, bright stars and planets above... Orion directly overhead... such a sight, out here without the light pollution.

199th west to Spring Hill -- overlapping the Border Patrol route, I have to remind myself not to instinctively turn south for Louisburg.  I arrive at the Casey's in Spring Hill, the first control, at 5:58AM... two minutes before they open:  nice timing!  (that's the c-store opening, *not* the control opening time... I'm not THAT fast!)  But, the Casey's clock is faster than mine apparently and their doors are already open and morning business is jumping.  The smell of *just* finished donuts, coffee and breakfast pizza slaps me in the face with a welcome blow of warmth and flavor... YES!  The best part... sometimes the only good part... of cold-season riding is the treasure of warmth and food at the controls.  Sometimes it's all about the hot coffee, I tell ya.

The wet, cold morning air had me shivering, despite the influx of hot coffee... a dangerous position to be in.  Cold is ok.  Wet is ok.  Cold and wet can be bad.  Only solution is to get moving again and dry off -- it's cold, riding along with layers unzipped, but getting dried off is more important.  Too many layers, though warm feeling, can backfire... hard to find balance, and a little out of practice.  Back on the road, things improve quickly after a sprint up a short hill. 

A quick zig-zag over US-169 highway south of town, and onto Old KC Road towards Hillsdale -- another great road that I sometimes wish was a little bit wider, maybe with a paved shoulder.  Ah, well...  traffic is surprisingly courteous, thanks perhaps to my ridiculous level of reflective gear.  Overkill?  I dunno... I'd rather not roll the dice, and none of it weighs anything, catches any wind, or gets in the way - so why not?  A little backlighting to the trees to the east indicates dawn is coming... back down to business.

Tailwind still in effect, I make haste - picking a good, sustainable cadence and sticking to my goal cruising speed of around 17.5-18.0 MPH.  Quick enough, but certainly not in danger of getting to the halfway too early -- attempts at that are scheduled for next year.  Yeah, I'm an optimist... but, part of me wants to try it again, arriving too early to check in.  Today, however, is about consistency and finishing with about the same average at the end as at the halfway.  Today, it would turn out, would offer perfect conditions for such training.  I was careful in days leading up to this ride not to jinx anything, but if I timed things correctly I was in for another super-rare, ultra-special, deluxe, surprise, happy-time double tailwind ride.

Hospital Road south of Paola comes quick, then Hedge Lane... some of my favorite pavement ...the sky is getting lighter and I'm feeling good.  Another railroad crossing at 343rd street, and southbound once again - until the road ends... this really is a great route if you can look past the "getting outta town" portion in the first few miles:  it's a rail-fan's delight, with ten railroad crossings (mixed between level crossings and bridges) in 100 kilometers, and several miles of parallel opportunity.  If you don't see anything on the way out, you get another chance at each one on the return trip.  Second, it's hilly enough to keep things interesting, but not a quad-crusher.  Third, you almost don't need a cue sheet -- nearly all of the decision points are "duhs", ending at T intersections - and where that isn't the case, the turns are well marked with highly visible road signs.  The only potential "gotcha" is a roundabout, but its not too bad if you read the signs.  There are also several more c-store opportunities than there are controls, which makes it a good winter route compared to more remote regions -- I didn't figure it exactly, but I think the biggest gap between gas stations is perhaps 15-17 miles, which is good if you find yourself cold or running out of water.. or needing to put water bottles in the microwave, if it's REALLY cold.  Perfect route.

I roll through Fontana, KS.  The last two visits to this tiny town took place in the dark back in '08... in fact, if memory serves, today's trip was only the 2nd time I'd seen Fontana during the day.

Thinking this town could use a Casey's...  franchise idea in my future, perhaps... no, not here... perhaps somewhere between Appleton City and Weableau, MO, come to think of it....

I'd have the only c-store in existance with showers, a locker room, drop-bag storage, a sleeping area....accessible via brevet card authentication.... Hammer Gel dispensers... the mind wanders...

Snapping to, back on a beautiful stretch of road near K-152... at the top of the western ridge of Linn Valley.  This view never gets old.  The La Cygne power generation plant, billowing steam into the cold air - confirming that the wind, as scheduled, was beginning to shift to favor my return trip.  WoooHooo!!

I dive down the fast downhills and proceed to hammer it across the flat valley floor - aiming for La Cygne before 9am, which I manage handily... 8:46am.  Probably more time off the bike than I should have had, but I'm not too worried about control efficiency quite yet, at least not when it's cold out.... a few minutes at 199th and Mission, at least 15 at Spring Hill, a few minutes at 311th and Hospital Road, a few minutes at LN-1095 and K-152.... nature breaks, snack breaks, star-gazing breaks... why not?  We ain't racin' today, just enjoying some spirited pacing while we ARE moving, I suppose.

I lose track of time at La Cygne, watch a train flyby, snack on grub, coffee, rest room break, a little indoor warmup - and then finally decide that I've lingered enough and get moving again.  It's different this time of year:  where in the summer I am anxious to keep moving to finish before the heat of the day gets unbearable, there is sometimes a little extra pause in the cooler months in the hopes that temperatures might improve.  I don't remember actively considering this, but maybe it was subconscious.  The nice thing about randonneuring - something I sometimes forget - is that you HAVE the time, generally, to rest up, get warm, etc.  That is, if you manage it properly... the criteria is loose, but a finish is a finish whether it takes 13 hours, or seven.  My personal trick, each time, learning from past close-calls:  get to the halfway, no matter what the cost.  Once you have that in the bag, you can then dawdle if you want or need to.  Results can and do vary.

The steam plumes at La Cygne have moved, slowly starting to point northwest... my tailwind for the return ride is confirmed, and the sun is getting higher.  Time to move.

The valley floor is tackled quick, and then the business of the hills leading up out of the valley.  I have to say, I prefer the climb to the east -- easier to gauge effort, perhaps -- and I'm still a little tentative about the knees these days.  After last month's Border Patrol where the saddle height and fore/aft was a little off, causing some post ride soreness that lingered right up to THIS morning, I had been focusing on high cadence during this ride to minimize impact and strain.  Things have been steadily improving since the October ride, tested with commutes and some long indoor resistance drills when I could squeeze them in - but the real test would be the hills on this route.  So far, so good -- but on the steeper stuff, it's just hard for me to keep a high rev going.  Standing up, or seated, however... when the pressure came on, things felt good, tight - and not sore.  Post-ride would tell the tale for sure, but I was hopeful.

Then, a few miles north of Fontana -- I'd stop and shoot the video footage that became the previous post... 

After that, it was time to get down to business.  

I checked my rolling time and did a little mental math, and figured I could probably still pull it off, if I pushed a little:  The sub-6 hour century, a personal milestone that I've used in the past to measure consistency and the ability to get up out of the usual commute average speeds.  Racers will scoff -- where sub-5 hour centuries are the norm, most likely... faster still, in fact, one of the most incredible performances I've ever witnessed was from an athlete at the Texas Time Trials in '07.  Patrick Evoe still holds a personally-witnessed record of the fastest century I've ever seen thrown down, and I'm almost certain one of the fastest by UMCA standards (Not to mention the course record at Texas).  When the 100-mile UMCA North American Century Championship launched in Cleburne, TX., while Tejas 500 riders were deep into their 500-miler, and I had already cashed in the chips and started crewing for Ort, Patrick came through the start/stop area after his first lap like a bullet train... and my (and others') first thought was... "wow!!... but he'll slow down".  For the next three hours and change, we were all proven wrong.  I've never seen anything like it.  The dude is FREAKING FAST.  Four hours and 13 minutes later, he was done with his 100 miles... an average almost hitting 24 MPH.  That's solo, during a non-drafting event, kids.  So, while I have a LOT LOT LOT of work to do before I even get close to shaving an hour off MY best century time, I'm perfectly comfortable with my sub-6 hour rolling time for now... because, for my long-term goals that's a comfortable 400-miles-in-24-hours pace.  OF course, I have to train beyond that speed to ensure that hour 23 goes as well as hour 3.... but, today, I'm pleased to have raised my rolling average speed from 16.1 up to the required 16.6+ needed to make it back to 199th and Ridgeview Road in 5 hours and 58 minutes.  Time to relax...

My secondary goal of finishing this one in under 10-hours total time was looking good now, too.  The rest of 199th went off well, but things changed when I turned north on Mission Road.  Normally a section where time can be made up -- not to mention BIG fun in the twisties -- I was surprised to see the road completely blocked by flashing lights, sheriff and local police, and power & light service vehicles.  I throttled down and coasted up, talked to the sheriff and was finally allowed to walk my bike across several front yards - well away from a downed power pole and overturned car resting in the ditch across the way.  Holy.... glad I wasn't around when THAT happened.  

Looking back south on 199th, after walking past the accident scene on the other side of the trees, and giving detour directions to a few of these cars waiting here for a chance to back up and turn around.  A local resident confirmed that their power was out - but she wasn't sure why.  Fate, Karma, whatever you want to call it -- I'm thankful I took my time at roadside breaks and controls in the last half of the ride, as any cyclist could have easily been "just riding along" when this happened.  Not sure if anyone was injured - but the ambulance was long gone by the time I arrived.  Hope they're okay.

After a 1/2 mile walk, I was on the other side of the drama, ready to get back at it.  Hills were in my future -- hills that give this route a reputation of being especially evil for the last few miles of a long ride.  After a long cool-down at the accident site, I also found myself resting again at 159th and Mission road - desperate for a rest room break, but finding no shelter or break from passing cars to pull it off.  While the clock was still on my side, I was going to have to work for my sub-10 hour 200km ride now.  Ugh!

Up Mission, to 159th, down to Kenneth, around the bend, across the tracks, up more hills towards 135th, then WHAM.... traffic.  I had hoped that, as alluded to in earlier paragraphs, traffic wouldn't be a concern at this point in the day - but I was wrong.  After all, it was 1:40 or so in the afternoon.... but, no matter... cars, cars, cars...  passing by a major interchange, several shopping complexes, apartments, and back down to narrow, unimproved Grandview roads heading across Blue Ridge itself, which I'd forgotten is UP for over a mile at a time in places... wow.  It was on the longest climb of Blue Ridge where my bubble popped... whoof, no more push.... keep going!

 Then Grandview Road... and why are all the school busses out, is my clock wrong??  Holy traffic.... finally back at the 7-Eleven past Red Bridge... and I'd actually, unofficially made it a smidge after 2:00pm....SO close!  but then, of course, I have to unpack get out the route card, pick out something to buy, and stand in line to pay... a LONG line.  A lot of people-traffic, too, here... so, officially, 2:13pm..!  I'll take it, though.

Seriously... a simply stellar, awesome, perfect, fun day for a long ride... a great time.

Feeling good, and looking forward to December.  

Songs in the Head:

Grounds for Divorce - Elbow
State Police - Brothers Past   (the studio version is better)
Angelhead - Gabriel Rios
Grace - Will Young
15 Step - Radiohead

Stay tuned, and thanks for reading!

The Distance Diaries - No.1

So, I got bored, got out the camera-phone, and took a little video - which I then (thank me) edited down into this little snippet.  The process has given me a LOT of ideas... ideas that I can't capitalize on without upgrades in equipment, possibly software, and without more patience and practice and forethought.  As a larger concept I've given enough thought to settle on the title "The Distance Diaries", and right now they are simply to serve as video blog companions to the regular content on this blog.  It's catchy enough that I'm tempted to shift the blog to match... but not quite ready to close the door on over a decade of "dude" simply because I write more about distance than commuting these days.  We'll see.  What's in a name?


Certainly not EVERY ride will have a video companion - but I'll do what I can.  Honestly, I like it - it's FUN and I like the process of editing, mixing (though I'm still not 100% satisfied with this one), and taking raw video and chopping into 500 pieces and putting it back together.  I have high hopes and a giant body of inspiration to pull from - namely a lot of WAY more interesting and professionally produced stuff on Vimeo, and my ultimate inspiration "Survivorman" - where Les Stroud sets the bar extremely high.  


I've dabbled in the past and thought "what if?" -- and so this is a small step closer - but, I need to invest in something better than a cell phone camcorder to make this a real effort.  Further, a/v production is a HUGE time-suck.  I told myself I'd only devote a day to mashing this one out, and it took dang-near all it.  Further, there wasn't enough raw footage to show a true picture of the entire ride - and, let's face it:  sometimes I get down to the business of riding and forget things like shooting video.  The coming winter months will make that harder, no doubt, but more material will yield better finished product.  Best approach is probably to amass video for multiple rides, and make it a larger project.  We'll see.


So, for now, please enjoy:  


 

The actual post about Friday's 200km permanent coming this week --- strangely, that takes more time to edit down.  Big surprise!


Thanks for reading!

Five in a row, tagged and bagged.

Today's RUSA permanent was "The Super Big Gulp", only 201km ... so, the shortest thus far in this most recent "run".

Also, it was a little flatter... but, still - the cooler temperatures and typical adjustments needed to stay on top of cold weather hydration (no major issues, but I know I was behind a couple times) have me feeling --- not sore, but used.  A good feeling.

Also, for the first time in almost 7 years, an actual video-blog to accompany the usual droning, lethargic, time-consuming, holy-heck-hire-an-editor written post.  

Nothing can prepare you for the most gripping docu-drama on randonneuring since 1962, when George "Slappy" Donaldson strapped an 8mm home movie camera to his rear rack and made cinema history.

Thrills, spills, and suspense that Hitchcock would blush over.  

This fall... you will believe.... 

Stay tuned.

Chasing shadows?

Training.  It's a somewhat alien thing to me in practice, I have to admit.  I am starting once again to think about larger goals and with that comes the admission - like it or not - I'm going to have to train for those goals.  The slog of intervals, long indoor sessions between loads of laundry when there is snow on the ground, cross-training, carefully following the new dietary plan I'm now six weeks deep into, etcetera.  All the while, I have to come to grips with my tendency to go "all or nothing".  The same way it's personally hard to stomach missing a few days of commuting, I have to allow myself a few hiccups now and again.  Also important is staying injury-free.  Nothing sets plans adrift like an injury - so I have to remain vigilant with stretching and making smart choices.  I'm exhausted of worrying about things like "fit" and aches and pains... but the reason I do is because I still haven't figured out how to go through life without the bike underneath me - and being forced to figure out what that's like scares me.  Thankfully, those issues are fading.  Above all else -- patience.  Rest means rest, ride hard means ride hard... even if the results aren't immediately apparent.

 

I have spent the last few weeks stoking the mental fires with inspirational tales read from many other blogs, videos, documentaries - from Tejas 500 exploits to cross-state record attempts to P-B-P, to RAAM, to RAO, Furnace Creek, with a range including epic DNF stories as well as winner's tales; looking for patterns, tips, ideas, thought processes, catch phrases, and things to put way back in the subconscious to dig out later on - when times are low.  Among these is a recurring theme that shows my past approach to preparing for something like a 500-mile ultra:  I haven't done enough.  I see tales of riders "cooling down" before race-weekend with a 400km at a slow pace.  I see stories where riders head out for personal 24-hour runs to try and get 300+ miles with as few stops as possible, as check-points in a training season.  Sacrifice.  Things like my double MS-150 come to mind... overnight permanent rides... laps at Longview Lake at 3AM...  it's time to bust this stuff out again.  Showing up, paying the entry fee... sometimes that's the hard part:  committing... but I've done that before.  What I need to do differently is commit with both feet - jump all in... but, still, find that balance to ensure I stay sane... and that the steps on the way to the goal stay fun.

Commitment... no, I haven't committed yet.  I'm still leaving myself that "out" - but I have a loose timeline around that notion.  I know, personally, that if I haven't figured myself out by such-n-such date sometime in late spring 2012, then I'm simply not serious enough.  If some of those early training checkpoints reveal results that don't point towards a finish at the bigger goal, then I have the flexibility to push it out another year.  Progression.  Learn from the past. 

Interim goals are good for the big goal.  That was also a recurring theme in the stories I'd read.  This is also echoed from people I know personally that have tackled big rides successfully in the past.  Have "tiers" and extend them to training.  My secondary goal of achieving a 2nd RUSA R-12 is a good step.  Another interim goal of completing a full SR-series (200,300,400 & 600km rides in succession) is perfect.  The RUSA-oriented goals will help tremendously... but they "stop" around June and the big ride is in the fall.  Where I've fallen short in the past is filling that gap between early summer and "goal weekend".  Maybe trying to find a regional 12 or 24-hour race is a third interim goal, or keeping the R-12 streak going with longer permanents?  ... In any case, these "smaller" goals position myself for the bigger goal and provide a way to measure success if, for whatever reason, the big goal doesn't work out.  In this way, one can look at the whole year and NOT fall into depression if all the boxes aren't ticked.  Further, take that approach into the ride itself:  goal #1 = finish... #2... finish in less-than XX hours... #3... finish before someone else in my age group... whatever you like.  Even if I tank goals 2 and 3, the ride as a whole isn't a "failure".  Perspective.

The fun factor:  setting a goal to have fun is still a goal... slate-in fun, casual, recreational riding to force a slower pace and remind myself why I like riding to begin with.   This is easy... rides I'd normally do ANYway, but "use" them smartly to offset the tedium of "training".  Being serious about my goals for 2012 doesn't have to mean that I'm no longer having fun, or am no longer considered fun by others... not that I'm worried (ok, I kinda am), but I still don't want to take things SO seriously that I'm worried more about watts and weight than I am about friends and family.  Balance.

Technology... on the subject of watts, a lot of the stories I've read from winners of long events show a subtext of a strong, rigid training regime - complete with HR and power-based training goals, plus the expensive equipment to back them up.  I have to remember a few things:  what is MY goal?  Win?  Finish?  ... the latter, for sure.  I'm not certain I can keep things fun if I throw a lot of numbers into the game.  Hours at the computer, uploading data, comparing rides.  It's hard to hash out this thought process without flopping between "not wanting to really do the full effort" and still being "serious about my goals".  Will throwing a bunch of technology at my goals yield better results?   Better compared to what?  My gut tells me that training for efficiency, training to stay on the bike and moving, training to smile in the face of hardships, training for consistency, keeping myself healthy....  THESE things will ultimately yield a better event and a better me, rather than trying to measure and quantify every last detail.  Keeping it simple might entail just knowing how much nutrition I need per lap, remembering to hydrate - which are still things to consider seriously... but I think I have to draw the line on wondering how many watts I'm generating on that last roller after turn #3, for example.

Equipment matters... but it also doesn't matter:  another interesting theme, for every winner that crossed the line with top-dollar gear, power-measuring hubs and $1000 carbon disc wheels, there would be another winning story from someone that didn't mention equipment at ALL, wherein I'd come across a photo from the race and see them riding a bone-stock, middle-of-the-road bicycle.  This is important.  If I think for one second that my fenders are going to slow me down, I have to look at the rest of my training more closely.  I am not strong enough or fast enough to have the difference between finishing and not finishing be anywhere on the bike.  I'm reminding myself right here and now:  save the money, save the hassle, save the heartache... and just work harder.  Equipment that's worked for me in randonneuring works fine for whatever else I'm planning.  Sure... after 36 hours of riding those "fancy bits" might have put me ahead in my age group... but that's not the prime directive.  Run gear that supports a finish... and, conveniently, that's the kind of gear I already run today.

So, how does one become "serious" without being too "serious"???  Structured, but simple?

These are questions perhaps only I can answer.  Maybe the answers lie beyond 200km.  Maybe the answer is within the 200km... create the template, and run it - over and over - until you reach 500 miles... or 750 miles...

Above all else, though:  this time, don't be afraid to execute. 

An accomplished ultra-rider created a new ultra-cycling event for 2012 (Ultra Race News - Mt. Rushmore event) and summed it up best, indicating that a good, hard event will strip a rider to their absolute core, showing them themselves for what they are.  Maybe, at previous attempts, I was afraid of what I'd find... I think this time around, I'm more confident in the answer.

Clearly, I still have unfinished business... I'm not even sure if it has anything at all to do with the bicycle.  I still feel this unmistakable pull towards physical frontiers... distance, effort, suffering... and the smile that comes afterwards.  It's not about money, clearly... I've never won a dime riding a bike, and don't plan or expect to.  It's not about medals... they are merely "things", symbols of something I've never been able to describe about the rides themselves.  The Tejas 500 trophy... if that happens to be the goal I pick for next fall ...is also just a "thing", yes... but I want it because of what it might come to symbolize.  Partly, deep down, maybe the drive comes from not wanting there to be something out there that "beat me".  I will probably tackle the Knob Noster 200km permanent again even though I'd privately vowed that I would not, for this same reason.  Face the demons... remember my failure at the cave.... blah blah blah.  Maybe I'm making up for the things in life that DID beat me, things I can't go back and repeat.  Maybe I just like the challenge.  Maybe I don't know at all what the "why" is.  Maybe I am just chasing shadows.

Funny thing, though... this time, I feel like I'm catching up. 

Chasing Sunrise

Okay, enough twiddling about -- this marks the finish of the 4th RUSA randonee in as many months - so, officially, that's a "run".  1/3rd of the way to R-12 #2.

That makes it enough in the bank to provide motivation to get me through the traditionally tough months of November-February in the KC-Area.  Game on.

Woke up before my alarm, motivated, ready... ready to race against the sunrise to make sure I had as much time in the bank as possible before the promised NW winds turned the Border Patrol into a death-slog for the return trip.  After reading a lot of ultra-racing stories from a recently discovered blog I was mentally stoked with tales of "Scary Gary" and recent Nebraska cross-state records filling my head.  I'm not really sure what I expected of myself - but I wasn't going to dawdle much today if I could help it, at least not on the outbound leg.  After all - these rides are quickly becoming "training sessions", rather than THE events.  More on that later.

I rose to 57ºF on the thermometer, which isn't bad at all -- but, the northwest wind and the recent dry cold front that came with it created a downright chilly feel to the morning air, colder than last month's ride even with the rain being absent!  I ate, showered, and reshuffled my dressing scheme to compensate, figuring that I'd rather be comfortable early on and shed layers later.  This was a good move... I wouldn't actually feel motivated to remove the extra layers until I only had 22 miles remaining in the ride!

Today was mental -- I knew that the ride wouldn't really start until I was at the halfway point, looking back north.  I divided the course in half, and focused only on the first 67 miles that would take me to the turnaround.  At 4:01am, I shot back my usual pre-ride 5-Hour Energy, and headed south into the darkness.  The moon and Jupiter were paired up overhead, full and bright -- Orion was up also.  Jets passing overhead, and powerlines and signposts singing and clanging in the strong winds... which, for now, were helping me along.  I settled into a sustainable tempo and proceeded to hold it there - pausing to climb the Col Du Arboretum - for the next 25 miles, arriving at Louisburg at around 5:15am.  I took a little break here, as has become habit - refilled the one bottle I drained, a quick snack, and back at it.  As I have oft remembered too late, I was happy about my decision to don extra layers here despite the numbers on the thermometer.  The big hills south of town and the chilly downhills bottoming out at every creek crossing made it feel much colder than it really was, and I actually felt a mild shiver.

I am mentally reaching a good place with relation to distances on the bike -- I can't quite pinpoint the exact mental training I've been undergoing, but I can think about manageable sections of the routes, as well as the whole thing, and have a feeling of calm about it.  My hope is that this will translate when up against longer and longer rides next year.  Right now, however, my new approach has managed to "shorten" even the long slog of Metcalf from 199th to 359th from "22 freaking miles" to "only 22 miles"... if that makes sense.  Perhaps it's exposure, perhaps its just a mental trick -- but it's working well.  It's difficult to type this without sounding like I've lost my marbles... but even the Border Patrol route as a whole, now, seems "short".  Like I said, it's a good place to be before putting bigger brevets on the calendar - to get back to that point where you can actually be HAPPY when you mumble to yourself "only 100 miles to go..."

Not looking to wear myself out too much, but still trying to get to the halfway and start making tracks north before the strongest winds of the day came on was the primary goal.  Metcalf was over-with, and the highway section from 335th to 359th streets was checked off - afterwhich I stopped at the bottom of the exit ramp for a quick nature-break and a snack.  Making good time... Mounted back up, and proceeded to chip away at Jingo Road, marveled at the view of La Cygne power generation plant to the east, all lit up, and made it to K-152 in good time.  Big downhill... and checked in at La Cygne, KS at 6:52am... not bad... in fact, only 34 minutes shy of "beating the control opening".  Compared to brushes with control *closings* in the recent past, that'll do nicely!  I thank the tailwind... which, I was quite sure, would take a fair amount of that time back in the coming hours.  I would have been even earlier, but apparently the 7:00AM coal train was early today, so I ate part of my hourly rations while waiting for the train to clear the crossing.  I love trains, so it wasn't exactly a hardship having to witness a pre-dawn flyby.

More food, refills, restroom -- hydration going well -- and back on the bike.  

Thankfully, the sun was beginning to lighten the sky towards the horizon... a moment where I wished I had a good camera with panoramic ability...  the moon and Jupiter were still visible, but the way the light of dawn illuminated the scene was really cool.  Serene... Finally, on LN 1095, maybe 10 miles from the halfway point, the sun finally broke above the horizon.  Didn't quite make it to the halfway before dawn, but hey --- seeing the sunrise from the road, I'll take it any time.

Finally with the sun up, I could SEE things... including the remarkable fall colors of the hillsides surrounding the valley.  Reds, oranges, yellows... all afire in the early morning light and crystal clear air, and set against the brown and tan of the surrounding seas of crops.  Birds are singing, hawks are out for the morning hunt, an owl is heard, and a flurry of young deer gallop across the roadway only 1/8th of a mile ahead of me.  It's an awesome sight.. but I glance off to the right to make sure there isn't a buck gunning for me.  Apparently, word is getting out about cyclists and the deer are taking action.  At least in Africa they are... maybe the word isn't out stateside yet.  

I am treated to a "semi gravel" ride this time out, as Linn County seemingly is performing some road maintenance on 1095 lately.  In fact, it seems a lot of roads are benefiting from some much-needed maintenance this year, including 175th street closer to home.  Down here, however, the highway maintenance program seems more aligned with the "Texas approach", and the result is monster chip seal.  It's not the worst I've had - and with 28c tires, who's complaining? - but it was definitely gravel-esqe as a large majority of the aggregate hadn't settled in yet.  Interspersed were large sections of completely glassly and rubbery asphalt resurfacing, which was alarmingly smooth by comparison.  It was akin to riding in the rain and suddenly passing underneath a bridge or overpass, when the rain suddenly stops, but then picks up again on the other end.  Most of 1095 is like this now, but it's not bad riding.  

...Made up my mind to make a new start, Going To (Pleasanton-ia) with an achin'... in my heart.
Someone told me there's a girl out there with love in her eyes and flowers in her hair.
Took my chances on a (tourin' frame), never let them tell you that they're all the same.
The (sky was blue) and the (road) was grey; I wondered how tomorrow could ever follow today...

Later, after nearing the top of Paris Hill(ton) and passing the Linnville School site, a dog came tearing out of the woods and crossed the road in front of me, giving me a look that said "fear".  What the???  A dog running *from* a cyclist??  That's impossible... The only thing that would make a dog run from a cyclist is if there is something chasing the cyclist... or something back in those woods... IT'S GODZILLA!!  

I shift, and raise my pace...

More hills...more scenery... a nature break at the Mt. Carmel Cemetery gates, and then Flathead Pass (bonus points if you can figure out how I finally named this hill) reaching over the ridge and then dropping you down some perfect, new pavement as you approach Pleasanton, and the halfway point.  8:27am on the receipt, and comestibles.  

Brings me to... nutrition:

This year saw the return to more engineered nutrition on the bike.  It's a place I'd been before when consistent speed (as opposed to wicked fast racer speed, to be clear here) was more of a motivation for longer rides.  With my sights set on at least finishing another 600km brevet in 2012, I figured it was as good a time as any to examine a return to successful fueling strategies.  However, fuel on the bike is worthless unless you fuel correctly ALL the time.  Huh?

A little personal history, I've never been super healthy.  I like beer.  I like comfort food.  I like easy food.  I don't cook.  I'm also a vegetarian... but I'm probably the worst vegetarian you'll ever meet, in the sense that I'm not eating steamed vegetables and wheat-grass.  Where there are "steak and potatoes" folk, I simply just eat more potatoes.  With ketchup.  Added together, I don't eat well on OR off the bike.  

I've been doing some homework lately, specifically talking to a personal coach... now, now, now, hold on:  I'm not paying for this service.  My "service" comes from a friend at work that has competed professionally in the past in another, non-cycling, endeavor that taught her a lot about health, diet and training.  I'm taking this as un-cycling biased nutritional consultation.  We've discussed goals, methodology, and approach - and since the Monday after the "Mere Two-Hundred" ride, I've been following a fairly structured program that *seems* to be working.  Here's a general approach run-down:  85% of most everything is mental... and 15% physical.  Of that 15% physical, 85% is DIET, 10% is exercise, and 5% is genetics.  So, if you've been making excuses like *I* have, try eating better and see if the results change.  Give it a month.

To also be clear, this isn't "going on a diet" - this is diet in the strictest sense of "what you eat".  While portion control is important, too, this is more about fueling what you do - not about how much or little you should eat.  

The subject of protein came up.  Long story short (too late on THIS blog) I wasn't getting enough.  I bounced her information off of several endurance sports publications, and the general consensus was clear: no matter what scientific formula I applied, I was not getting enough protein.  Side effects?  Lethargy, fatigue, physical over-training issues, no performance gains, etc, etc, etc,... a laundry list of the kinds of issues that have plagued past distance rides.  I won't get all weird and preachy about this stuff -- but, I'm no longer going to half-(ahem) my approach to personal goals anymore, either.  Speed isn't everything - some of the best times I've had on a bike are when I wasn't worried about speed at all.  We've been over this.  Clearly though, the challenges I have nutritionally have translated into fatigue and slower progress at the end of long rides time and time again, and my goals haven't changed:  therefore, I have to change to meet my goals.  Even if I stop riding a bike I still need to treat my body better.

After three weeks of getting (though it was tough) the amount of protein I *should*, I have noticed a few things.  First: I dropped ten pounds.  Second: on hard days, I've managed to post near-record breaking commute times in the evening, into headwinds as opposed to breaking records only with a strong tailwind present.  Third: well, the third test was this ride.  So... back to it...

Nutrition on the road involved Hammer Perpetuem Solids, Hammer Gel packets, and two Honey Stinger Waffles (yum) that I was testing on this ride.  I noticed that I needed something in my gut every 30 minutes... the hunger I was feeling was real.  It never cascaded into a bonk, push was consistent - but I was compelled to listen to what my body wanted.  As a consequence, I went through my pocket rations faster than I'd wanted to -- but, thankfully, I'd packed more than enough.  At the controls, I "behaved" -- tried not to keep my feet on the ground more than 15 minutes a shot.  I don't think I took in enough non-pocket food to support the day - something I need to work on when in a hurry.  I tried not to just grab random junk food, but that led to not grabbing anything...which isn't good either.  Total control-grub ended up being a 1/2 can sized Pringles at Louisburg (when I really began to feel hungry), a single-pack of Fig Newtons and qt. of Gatorade at Pleasanton, and.... uh.... that's it.  

So, if I burned something on the order of 6,400 calories and took in (mathmathmath) 1,470 cals between pocket and controls... there's no way to completely replace everything you burn, that's impossible, and not even recommended...  but, I only took in an average of 147 calories per hour, then... and that's lower than I should be shooting for, technically.  It's a good enough reason to maybe stop into one of these cafe's that seem to keep opening up in these small towns... 

Crap, I said I wouldn't bore you with this... sorry! 

After leaving Pleasanton for the run back north, it was apparent almost immediately that the 17+ MPH average I built on the trip down was going to be destroyed in a matter of hours.  Passing the last of the trees lining the road leading out of town, I was treated to a full face of wind... and it was only to get stronger.  It wasn't even 9:00am yet... I was making good time... step on it.  I climbed up the back side of Flathead, made my way along Sugar Creek valley, just keeping my head low and moving my legs up and down.  

A few more hills, and a brief tailwind section to remind me how much fun I'd been having on the trip south, and I stopped for a quick nature break and photo on a short bridge.  

Somewhere on Linn CO. 1095 highway... pause.

I love the band of red in that hillside in the background.  Evidence here of the fresh chip-seal/tiny-gravel road surface, and you might notice the roadside foliage in the left of frame is a little "bent" in the breeze.  Windy...

It took longer to get back to La Cygne as expected - but not too bad.  Turning east, the brief taste of tailwind that would help get me back to Jingo Road was nice.  Checked in at 10:15am, card signed, receipt... and back at it.  Keep moving...  I soaked up the rest of the tailwind on K-152, climbed out of the valley, and hopped back onto Jingo Road.  Nine miles...

The Border Patrol is a very exposed route... there aren't many trees to block the wind on a day like this, so I decided to lie to myself.  "Nice tailwind today..." I actually muttered it aloud, as if it would sink in.  "Now you can make some steam..."  I tried to keep my cadence up, and enjoy the fruits of my manufactured "tailwind"...and by jove, it worked.  At least, it could have gone far worse.  I could have convinced myself that it was futility, and geared down... but I didn't.  I repeated; hydrate, fuel...pedal.  

I'm not sure I remember a time where I came off of Jingo Road quite so quickly...  unless there was a time warp.

The highway section was next, and I made quick work of it also... but, I finally paused at the Rutlader Wildlife area, just off the exit ramp, for another snack....

And if you think it wasn't windy, well... turn your speakers down:

After that video, I regretted the waffle... it was tasty, don't get me wrong... but I felt whipped for a bit.  Perhaps too much effort?  Perhaps it WAS the calories running low... who knows.  I still made it back to Louisburg in decent enough time, and paused to remove extra layers as the sun had finally warmed the air enough to my liking to shed them.  Packed up, snacked up, and ready... my old pal Metcalf awaited.  Why didn't I make this a free-route permanent, again?  

More brain-unplug riding here, I guess... before I knew it, I was back at 199th street and turning west.  The wind was there... but, I just worked through it.  Apparently my mental trick is shaping up to be simply this:  if I don't want to complain about it, I don't "record" it, either.  Pedal.  Drink.  Eat.  Repeat.  

...go that way, really fast...  if something gets in your way, turn.  

Antioch... 175th... a short rest at 175th and Murlen, where I just got overwhelmed with "whoa... tired...." and contemplated taking a nature break in front of about 15 houses.  I decided against it.  Three miles... you can hold it... (ugh). 

And... FINISHED.  

I knew the headwind would take a toll, but I'll take the result - a finishing average of 15.6 MPH, I can live with.  I held it in the 16's until just after Louisburg, but fatigue and that wind simply caught up.  I'm very pleased with this one.  It felt really good to get out, and despite a minor fit issue (which you are about to read about), I'm feeling pretty dialed-in.  

Pain?  The immediate ride-finish post prior to this one mentioned some pain immediately following the ride.  Ever since switching to the new shoes after the last 200km ride, I had a sneaking feeling this would come up.  There was a glimmer at the DSR ride, but I elected not to change anything before the big ride.  Cut to today, the pain is completely gone - less than 24-hours later - however, the fact that issues were there at all still indicates an issue.  If I'd had 200km TO GO at that point, that would have been bad.  

I set up the bike in the trainer and measurements confirmed the suspicion.  Not fresh, but it explained the pains.  Today, I feel GREAT.  A recovery session on the indoor trainer this AM seems to indicate that the problem is taken care of.  We shall see; with slow, easy commutes next week, stretching, and perhaps a 100km tune-up sometime before the NEXT 200km.  A lesson that when you change shoes (or ANY equipment), don't assume that you can eyeball it.  Set up the bike in the trainer and make sure.  I got lazy, basically.  The main goal here is just to keep things neutral.... I know I've mentioned this "fit" stuff a lot recently, but it never really comes up until a person rides LONG.  For most folks, none of this matters.  You can be "off" all over the place and never have a consequence... but slap 300 miles on it, and the millimeters make a difference.  Okay, enough of that issue.

HEAD-MUSIC....

For some reason today, I was stuck in the 60's and 70's;  

I haven't been listening to ANY of this stuff... but for some reason it all kept popping into my head, especially Led Zeppelin, which I haven't actively sought out in years.

She Came in Through the Bathroom Window - The Beatles

On Linn 1095, right at sunrise, something put all three of these song into my head in succession, and in this order.

I don't know what did that, but it happened.

What is and What Should Never Be - Led Zeppelin

Going to California - Led Zeppelin  (if there is a soundtrack to this ride, this is it.  It came into my head as soon as I saw the sun, and it captured the scene, perfectly.)

Ramble On - Led Zeppelin  (and this one, I sang out loud.  With the falling leaves, and the autumn moon... it was also, just, so, perfect.)

Moon Shadow - Cat Stevens

Sample in a Jar - Phish  (this snuck in, in the last 10 miles...at least getting my brain back into the '90s)

Thanks for reading... stay tuned... November oughta be interesting...

I rode the wrong way

Another successful "finish" for a RUSA 200+km ride... ya'll better ask me if I want paper, or plastic... 'cause this one is in the bag.  WHOO!

Unfortunately, it was not without some difficulty... normally a summer go-to route, the Border Patrol was on tap this time to keep me close to home.

It heads south, on the notion that normally in this area in summer you are nearly guaranteed a nice, strong south tailwind for the return trip.

Today, instead, it was a howling NW wind.  Wow.  Still, happy with my average, happy with my finishing time.

A little UN-happy with my small revisit to fit issues that showed up late in the ride, probably due to some needed tweaking on some new shoes I'd picked up.

Getting everything cleanly transferred from old-to-new shoes (ala cleat placement) apparently didn't go as well as I'd hoped - so we'll try and get things dialed back in before the next long ride.

Tends to happen - and any time you switch to new equipment it's always an unknown on the first long ride.

Won't take much.  I absolutely refuse to get all anal about it, as I have in the past.  Everything was perfect on last months ride -- I'm just off a hair somewhere. 

Speed and consistency are coming.

Diet is working.

Pain will pass, things heal.  

VERY pleased right now...

Stay tuned for the full post.

Dark Side Ride: New Roads... new horizons...

Ah... the Dark Side Ride...   Words don't do it... you HAVE to come out with us sometime.

 

First off, BIG thanks to Noah for starting the ball rolling on this one and throwing together a GREAT route.  Thank the Maker for flippin' PER-fect weather conditions.  Thanks to Our Lady of the Devine Mechanical for shielding us from any roadside dilemmas.  A great turnout for what was only the 2nd DSR of the year.... maybe the ONLY?  Ugh... working on that.  Life has been interesting, and even scheduling the longer daytime rides has been tough --- we'll do better.  As they say, with absence.... so was the case.  I don't think I stopped smiling the entire ride.

 

Thanks to all that came out -- a great crowd:  "Crowbar", Noah Hack-Master D, "Double-R", new-rider Steve, "Wildcat-Al", "Raleigh-Richard", and yours truly.

 

Did I say the weather was perfect?  :)

 

We meandered around Lake Lenexa, which caught me off-guard in the dark...  it was one of those moments where I knew the route, roughly, but wasn't really paying attention.  That's a good way to get lost, I suppose... but it also makes for little surprises here and there.  The stunning visual of clear, still water extending to eerie lights on the dam in the distance, the bright dot of Jupiter and the nearly-full moon in the sky above... sporadic clouds... and some late-night partiers down inside the park hootin' at us as we passed.  I called back with enthusiasm...

Roundabouts and hills came next ... good conversation... and then came 83rd Street.

 

The theme this time out was punching through the old "barrier" on 83rd Street, a section of road that I (and may of us) had never ridden before because of a non-motorized vehicle ban that had been put in place back in 1999.  I remember when the ban was posted - I'd only had a road bike for a couple months, so I'd never ridden on 83rd street.  Back in "they day" it was THE way to get to Lawrence on the usual weekend club rides.  I even have a book called "Cycling in Kansas City", a joint publication by leaders of the KCBC and JCBC, that heralded that route as one of the best rides in the area.  It's always interesting looking up once-popular routes in that book and realizing that a few of them were (until recently) actually illegal ... of course, that wasn't the case when it was published (1996?).  I actually had the old Lawrence route bookmarked with a post-it note that read, in black ink, "banned". 

 

I won't get into the details of the ban here, but it was curious, finally riding on 83rd.  I'm not sure what I expected - I had initial reactions about it, perhaps a little mental pretension that I'd built up about it... but afterwards, talking about it miles later at the scheduled rest-stop on the western edge of De Soto with Randy, he was right:  there's nothing unusual about that road.  I could see how a lot of poorly timed traffic and inattentive drivers could cause a problem, but then I did a quick mental inventory:  There's nothing that makes 83rd any different than any of the myriad Missouri or Kansas rural highways I've ridden over the past decade.  I'm happy the ban was lifted - make no mistake - and again, I won't labor over why it shouldn't have been banned, or what really caused it in the first place.  It's history now.  But there was this distinct feeling of "uh....okay....?"  I will say this:  even with the moon barely lighting the scene I was amazed how pretty the outlay is... descending off of a ridge into a wide valley with farm fields on either side, the road gently curving a bit and then straightening out to a nice climb.  Not bad.  Now that I know I have a choice, I will probably opt for the same old lower-traffic routes I've taken all along, a bit farther south... but, it IS nice to have the choice now, instead of wondering why we "can't".   

 

I'd never ridden on "old" 83rd street through downtown De Soto, either... nice Main street... vintage Ford service garage, a barber shop, firehouse... not bad at all...

 

Hilly.

 

Wildcat-Al and I took turns shaking things up on the many climbs here and there, with Steve and Richard joining in the mix as well.  I forgot on more than one occasion about the "social" aspect of the ride, guilty of running up the pace on the slightest incline when I'd catch Al or Steve in my peripheral vision.  I suppose that competitive fire is still lit, somewhere down in my gut.  Not all bad... but, I tell ya:  if nothing else, even though I was experiencing some calf tightness that had come on recently, it felt really good to stretch the legs a bit and spike the heart-rate.  I'd forgotten how much of a goat Wildcat is!  Makin' me work and stuff... whew!

 

On that note, in previous, recent posts I have made excuses/complained that there aren't any hills in southern Johnson County... and that may be true, save for one or two, when compared to the continuous rollers of the northland - but, WESTERN Johnson County has some hills.  I think from a "training" perspective, I've simply been pointing my bicycle the wrong direction.  95th Street, 127th Street... I'll be visiting you again, soon.

 

Chatted up randonneuring with Steve on Kill Creek Road, heading south -- he's a slender, bearded gent riding a stately black machine, a daily commuter - fresh from finishing the local MS-Ride with the Cutter's team... which is not an easy team to hang with:  strong riders, all, as I recall from years past.  Just coming off his longest-ever ride from that weekend, it was interesting hearing the beginnings of "what's the next frontier?".... it sounded familiar, from back in the day... that's how it starts!  It was fun talking up the long-distance stuff -- helps keep me motivated, and you never know who you might "talk into it".  RUSA needs riders... 

 

Later in the evening, after more and more hills, the "short" 30-miler started to feel long... Looking back at the course, it certainly wasn't flat... not even close... but it was a lot of fun!  We spun out the last half-dozen miles at a much more relaxed pace, enjoying the scenery, the stars, the lights in the distance, late-night downtempo chill from Noah's streaming audio panniers... and were soon back at the start line.  More good convo in the parking lot afterwards, and then I continued the theme with KRBZ FM's usual Saturday late-night programming of electronica as my soundtrack for the drive home.  Windows down, cruise control... check.

 

Whooooof.... I slept well, once I got home. 

 

I love these things - and while absence may indeed have led my heart down a wistful path of "why don't we do these more often??", I have good feelings about the 2012 season.  Stay tuned ... this is certainly not the last DSR.  There's always November... which, if it happens, might be a "first".

 

Thanks to everyone that came out, and thanks again to Noah for making it happen!

 

 

 

Dark Side Ride: October 8th!

Cross-posted from KC-Bike Commuting - check it... got lights?  got gear?  got dark?  go!

 

 

 

First: Go read this. Go now! I'll wait.

What are you still doing here? READ IT!

Done? Good.

Next: Bring your bike, your reflective gear, your das blinkenlights and your helmet to the Wendy's parking lot at Woodland and K-10 Highway. We roll at 9:00 PM sharp, so get there early enough to prepare. If any of you eastern/central Johnson County folks want to ride to the start with me, I'm departing from 87th and Monrovia (Lenexa PD / City Hall) at 8:15 PM.

We'll be celebrating the fall of one of the most infamous bicycle bans in the country by riding through the very stretch of road that's been off limits to us human-powered two-wheelers for the better part of a decade. The route itself is about 30 miles with a mile and a half of relatively tame gravel. With a rest stop somewhere along the way, expect to get back to Wendy's at around midnight, but it might be earlier, depending on the general pace of the group. Bring enough lights and batteries for 3 hours of riding.

This is a no-drop social ride with re-groups as frequently as they're needed to keep us all together. Some of us at the front and back of the pack will be in communication via two-way radio to facilitate this.

See you there!