One Hundred Miles

One hundred point six to be exact. It's a bit of a long way. It's even longer when you're on a bicycle.

I finally completed my first century of the summer this past Sunday (egads! it's almost fall! took me long enough!). I've done other centuries in years past but this is my first one that wasn't part of an organized tour with dedicated food and rest stops. This was an AABTS club ride called the Sleeker Senile (S)Century. Sleeker hosts this ride on third Sunday of each month. I regret not bringing my camera. The scenery was great, but there was a chance of rain and I was paranoid.

The ride began at 8am in Dexter. 8am and I are not the best of friends, but I made it and I was ready to ride. Sleeker handed out cue sheets (for those that might not know, a cue sheet is a list of cues or directions including the distance between turns and the total mileage at each turn). At the top of the cue sheet it said "Olivet Out n Back 130". 130? 130 miles? Oh Boy! Ok, that was not what I had in mind but wasn't really a problem, it's an out and back route so I could turn around at 50 miles instead of 65 and have my century without killing myself. Click through to see my route.

We pulled out of Dexter and within a few short miles I knew I wasn't going to be able to keep up with the pack -- "the pack" being three very fit guys. About the time we reached Chelsea (shy of 10 miles into the ride) the guys had disappeared into the distance and I was firmly on my own. The weather was lovely and I pedaled along, quite happy to be riding at my own pace and enjoying the day. There was a bit of a headwind but I didn't let it bother me -- I knew it'd be at my back helping me along when I turned back toward home.

Around 25 miles in I was in need of a restroom and some water bottle refills. Just as I began to think about ducking into the woods to take care of the restroom portion I came upon Waterloo Recreation Area. This is where hulluva ride stops for lunch. I pulled in to the campground for a quick rest and refill.

Back on the road and about 45 minutes later I came across an unmarked intersection. The mileage showing on my bike computer wasn't quite right to be the turn I was looking for, but a construction detour in Chelsea and my detour into Waterloo had me a fair amount ahead of the mileage on the cue sheet. Maybe I had miscalculated. I was in completely unfamiliar territory so I pulled out some old maps from helluva ride and tried to figure out if I was still on them. While I was trying to decide which way to go another cyclist pedaled up and asked if I needed help. Her name is Dawn and she rescued me.

Dawn took a look at the cue sheet, pointed me in the right direction and offered to tag along for a bit. So I rode and chatted with Dawn for the next hour or so. When we reached the border of Jackson County she turned back and headed for home. I rode on into Ingham County toward Onondaga.

Onondaga is a teeny tiny little rural town about a dozen miles south of Lansing. The cue sheet recommended stopping here for food, rest, and refills. There was a nice little gas station/convenience store with picnic tables outside. I had a little lunch and a lot of water and Gatorade and I visited with another group of cyclists stopping for a snack. They'll be on the same dalmac route that I'll be on next week. Perhaps I'll see them there.

The Onondaga stop was just shy of the half-way point if I wanted to make a full century. So I got back on my bike and pedaled on up the road until my bike computer read 50.5 miles. The extra half mile was just to be sure. Better that I arrive back in Dexter with 101 miles than 99 miles because really wanted that century and I knew when I got back within sight of my car I'd be all done no matter what the mileage.

I passed a working oil well on my way up the road... Thought that was kinda cool. I didn't know we had those in Michigan. I reached the border between Ingham and Eaton Counties just as my bike computer reached 50.5 miles. So I turned around and headed back without entering Eaton. Three counties is enough for one day. The way back seemed shorter, though I had less company. I never really realized how pretty Michigan is until I started biking. This ride covered some very nice territory. The roads were more familiar on the way back and a gentle wind was helping me along so I rode a little easier and took more time to look around and enjoy the scenery.

I stopped again at Waterloo and went down by the lake this time. There were lots of families playing in the water and sitting on the beach and eating ice cream and generally enjoying the lovely weather. I hadn't planned on staying longer than it took to fill my water bottles and empty my bladder. But, with 75 miles down, I was getting tired and needed a little stretch and a short rest.

The last 25 miles were the most familiar and seemed to fly by. I had thought I might stop in Chelsea, ten miles from my destination, but when I got there I still had a full bottle left and was anxious to finish up. So I soldiered on.

As I rode the last stretch into Dexter I glanced down at my bike computer and relieved to see I wouldn't need to add any extra laps around town to reach the century mark. I was sore and exhausted and it felt wonderful to get off the bike. I had a few aches and pains but nothing serious. It was nothing like the time when my hand went numb on a century a couple years ago and I couldn't open a jar for two months. Or the time when I got saddles sores so bad on another century that I rode the last 5 miles without touching my poor tush to the saddle and couldn't wear underwear for a week. Or the time when I arrived home so dehydrated that I had a headache for two days. Yes, I think I've finally got this century thing figured out. My knees didn't even hurt the next day!

Not five minutes after I arrived in Dexter, two of the fast guys pulled in. They had done a full 130 miles. They must have set a blistering pace and they both looked at least as exhausted as I felt.

In case you're wondering, my ride time for 100.6 miles was almost exactly 7 hours. That's an average of 14.3 mph. The whole ride, with rest stops, took 8 hours. The 130 mile guys probably spent a little less time resting and probably averaged between 17 and 18 mph. That, in my opinion, is WICKED fast for that long of a ride. Someday maybe I'll be that strong! In the mean time, I'm pretty proud of my 100.6 miles.

Rocky the Rescued Racoon

I haven't had much inspiration for the blog lately (except for a super fun baby shower last weekend which I will be posting about after I sort through the zillions of photos) so I'm extra pleased about my eventful Wednesday evening bike ride.

Every Wednesday evening for the past couple summers, if the weather is pleasant and my knees aren't complaining too loudly I ride the AABTS club ride. It's 25 miles and it's kinda fast. This summer the ride leaders and most of the other riders have been leaving me in the dust. So it's been more of a push-my-limits fitness ride and less of a social ride. But this week was a little different. This week I managed to catch up with Courtney at about the half way point. She was taking it easy. I've ridden with her before. She's quite capable of leaving me in the dust. Her husband, Cameron, is quite capable of riding circles around me... very large fast circles. Courtney and Cameron are new to the club this year and they're super nice folks.

When Courtney and I crested a small hill and saw her husband standing on the side of the road we figured he must have gotten a flat. He's had some very very bad luck with flats lately. This time both his tires were fully inflated. Turns out he was in the middle of a wildlife rescue. This little guy was trying to cross the road:

With no mama raccoons in sight Cameron couldn't figure out which side of the road to leave this poor fella on. Each time Cameron tried to set him down, the little guy would cry and try to follow.

Courtney and I rode on expecting Cameron to get it all sorted and catch up with us shortly. Forty-five minutes later our route returned us to an intersection about two miles from where we'd left Cameron and the baby raccoon. And there they were, sitting in the grass outside the convenience store. Rather than leaving little Rocky the Raccoon to certain death on the side of the road, Cameron had called the humane society.

I have mixed feelings about raccoons. I admire them for their cleverness, but also find them a bit frightening, seeing as how they are wild animals and all. Several years ago, while Buster and I were camping, a raccoon made himself a fine lunch by figuring out how to unlock our tote of dry foods. Later when I was alone in the campsite a raccoon, likely the same one returning for an evening snack, tried to sneak up on me and nearly succeeded. His little paw-hand was inches away from my box of crackers when I spotted him and chased him off. He retreated to the very edge of the campfire light and proceeded to stalk me and my crackers until Buster returned. Outnumbered, he finally sulked off into the woods.

So I know from personal experience that raccoons are pretty smart, but they can also be very pesky and more than a little mean. And I can't imagine it'd be possible to domesticate them. I figured the humane society would put down the poor little guy that Cameron so kindly rescued. I suppose that would be a better fate for him than getting run over by a car or starving to death... but not much better.

Courtney and I were still there outside the convenience store with Cameron and little Rocky when the humane society guy arrived. No, they were not going to put him down unless he had distemper. Sadly, he had some symptoms -- he appeared malnourished and lethargic, and there was a little bit of discharge from one of his eyes. But he didn't show the typical neurological signs so maybe he's not sick, just hungry. The humane society guy figured that momma raccoon probably got hit by a car and this little guy had been on his own without momma to feed him for several days.

Turns out there are state licensed rehabilitation folks for wild animals. I've seen folks that do this on a TV program called Michigan Out of Doors that Buster likes to watch. They rehabilitate sick animals and reintroduce them into the wild. The animals that can't survive on their own in the wild, like the eagle with the amputated wing they had on the TV show, stay with the rehab folks and travel around the state to educate the public and promote the rehab efforts. I don't know if it's the same rehab folks that I saw on TV, but the humane society guy was taking rocky to some rehab folks.

Little Rocky may never know how lucky he is that Cameron, with a big heart and a love of animals, happened to be riding by just then. We're all hoping that little Rocky the Rescued Raccoon gets the food and care he needs in the animal rehab orphanage and grows up clever and strong so he can steal lots of breakfast cereal from locked food totes and terrorize many a lone cracker-eating camper.

One Helluva Ride! 2008

The gods were not smiling on One Helluva Ride this year. Bad weather and a chemical spill conspired to overshadow the amazing work of the OHR organizers and volunteers.

I got up at the crack of dawn and drove out to the Chelsea fairgrounds hoping I could get my 100 mile ride in before the bad weather hit. There were probably two or three hundred cars already in the parking area when I arrived. The threat of bad weather sure didn't keep too many people away!

I was all checked in and on my bicycle pulling out of the fairgrounds just before 7:30am. Less than a mile into the route, still in Chelsea, we needed to make a left at a fairly busy intersection with a "smart" left turn light. When I'm on a bicycle "smart" lights are one of my pet peeves. What's one to do when the traffic signals never change in your favor? The only thing we could do was run the light. Some riders were more considerate about it than others. Kudos to the riders that politely yielded to motorists before running the red. Next year maybe we can ask the Chelsea police if they wouldn't mind posting an officer at this intersection to help us out.

I actually feel a bit whiny mentioning that intersection because the number of police and sag along the route was absolutely wonderful. There were friendly faces at nearly all the busier intersections. I do a fair number of these tours and OHR has more police and sag support than any other ride I've done. And every year it seems to get even better.

You'd think all this police presence would remind motorists to slow down, be patient, and give cyclists plenty of room. But the morning was not without incident. On the west side of Dexter I saw a cyclist was being loaded into an ambulance. She was conscious and on her feet, so I think she'll be ok. On the east side of Dexter I rode past a rider holding a handkerchief to his face. He told me he'd been clipped by a car and he and his friend had already called for assistance. There was a cop at the intersection not a mile behind us. I sure hope someone got a license plate number!

The rest of the first leg of the ride went quite well. The sun was still peeking out below the clouds. The air was heavy and we all knew the rain was coming, but not quite yet. Several miles north of Dexter we turned west onto Darwin Rd and headed toward Hell, MI. Maybe I'm a complete dork, or maybe I just like to poke fun at the Creationists, but I sure do get a kick out of the fact that Darwin is the road to Hell.

While riding the hills of Hell I happened upon Paulie. I met Paulie back in May on the DCC's Metro Grand Spring Tour. On the MGST he was with a couple other riders that rode at about the same pace I do. This time he was with a girl I hadn't met before and I had a hard time keeping up. When we reached the first rest stop (28 miles in) I quickly tucked all stuff I wanted to keep dry into ziplock bags (the rain was definitely coming), grabbed a banana, filled my water bottles with gatorade, and said goodbye to Paulie. I didn't want to waste any time as I was still hoping to get the full 100 in before the weather got nasty. I figured Paulie and his friend would catch up with me before lunch. Sadly, I didn't see them again.

At around 40 miles a couple gentlemen passed me slowly enough to chat a bit. The clouds were starting to look ominous and we all agreed we were likely to get wet. I boldly proclaimed that I didn't mind getting a little wet, I just didn't want hail or lightening. Literally two minutes later I got my wish. Ten minutes later it was raining hard enough to hurt, I was soaked to the bone, and the whole thing stopped being fun. The rain finally let up then stopped all together just a few minutes before I pulled into the lunch stop at Portage Lake in Waterloo State Recreation Area.

I called Buster (in case you're new around here, that's what I call my husband) while I was eating my peanut butter and banana sandwich with a side of yummy pasta salad. He said the weather forecast was not looking too good. When I'd checked the forecast that morning the winds were expected to kick up in the afternoon with the worst of the storms hitting around 4pm. Armed with a dismal forecast but no immediate signs of bad weather I forged ahead thinking I might still be able to make the 100 miles but giving myself permission to take the shorter route if the weather looked bad when I reached the split.

The 100 mile route splits from the 79 mile route right near the Race Rd exit of I-94. The 100 mile route heads west a mile or two on Ann Arbor Rd then heads south to Napoleon before turning back north to Grass Lake, while the shorter route turns East along the service drive for a bit before taking a more direct route to Grass Lake.

As I rode south on Race Rd approaching I-94 I discovered a big knot of traffic. There was a cop directing traffic and an OHR volunteer stationed near the corner to inform us that the 100 mile loop was closed due to a chemical spill just a mile or so west of us. Everyone, motorists and cyclists alike, were being directed East along the service drive. While I was disappointed that riders would not be allowed to ride the longer loop (I helped paint the markings along that loop), I was a bit relieved to have the decision made for me. I would take the 79 mile route the rest of the way (at this point my knees, legs, and sore tush were all quite grateful).

The rest stop in Grass Lake is outside a very nifty old train station. There was a barber shop quartet here this year to serenade the riders. They were pretty gosh darn good. I rested, stretched, ate cookies and bananas, refilled my bottles, and discussed the virtues of a clean shower, a dry towel, and a cold beer with some like minded women. Then I headed out to complete the ride.

At this point the wind really picked up. Luckily it was out of the south so we had a good tail wind for several miles until we turned east for the final leg of the ride back into Chelsea. There were friendly volunteers and plenty of watermelon to greet riders returning to the fairgrounds.

I was dead tired so I skipped the watermelon and headed strait home for that nice clean shower and dry towel I'd been dreaming about for the last 16 miles. A handful of ibuprofen, a nice long nap, and copious amounts of Thai food later I felt human again. Many thanks to the bossman for bringing the Thai food!

The more I think about this year's ride the more proud I am to have been part of the group that made it happen. The weather and the chemical spill were bummers, but everything that could be controlled was nearly perfect. The route was well planned and well marked with both signs and street markings (I helped with a section of the street painting). The maps and cue sheets were flawless. The rest stops and lunch stops were well spaced, fully stocked with good food and beverages, and run by hardworking friendly folks. The sags were copious and responsive and the police were reassuringly ubiquitous. And the t-shirts are really classy. I don't think I could possibly be more impressed or more proud of the folks that made all this happen.

I am more than a little disappointed that I have yet to complete a century this year. I might head down to Findlay, Ohio in September for the Hancock Horizontal Hundred. I know that at least a couple other aabts members will be there and I'm still holding out hope that Mary's knee will stop being so cranky and let her back on her bicycle by then. But I'd really like to have a century under my belt this summer before I ride DALMAC at the end of August so I might just have to map one out myself and do my very first unsupported century. It's a rather daunting thought... We'll see if I can work up the courage to give it a shot.

Same Roads, Same Rights, Same Rules, Part 1

Recently, a staff member of the Boston Globe by the name of Bella English published a blog entry entitled "If only drivers shared the road, cyclists would be safer". It stirred up a bit of controversy. I mostly, but not entirely, agree with Ms English. It's a familiar rant to most road bikers and it goes something like this:

We bikers are all angelic. We hug trees and ride for charity. We obey all the rules of the road all the time. We are polite to automobiles and we stay to the right and always riding single file. You automobile drivers are evil vile and nasty people. You are stupid and angry. Our safety is you're responsibility and you are falling down on the job.

Ok, that's a little extreme. Ms English didn't go that far but she went farther than I like. Her column made me scrunch up my nose a little thinking "no, that's not quite right". As of today there are over 400 comments to her post. It's the comments contradicting Ms English that really got my blood boiling.

Let me start by telling you what Ms English did and did not get right. She starts by painting a very rosy picture of cyclists much like the tongue in cheek rant above. Sorry, that's sadly not the case. I'm a very cautious rider and I try to be as polite as possible to auto traffic. But I cannot claim to obey all the traffic laws all the time. I admit:

1. I blow stop signs... slowly and with a careful eye out for cross traffic, pedestrians, and other cyclists. Clipping out and coming to a full stop on bicycle is kinda a pain. I always give proper right-of-way, but I don't often come to a full stop.
   
2. And I blow red lights. Honestly, only one red light. The left turn signal at Zeeb and Dexter is a smart light and my bike won't trigger it, so I blow it carefully after yielding to traffic.
   
3. I don't always stay to the right. Remember that stretch of potholes I mentioned in my biking post back in May? Those aren't the only or even the worst potholes around here. I will ride in the left half of the lane or even on the yellow line (when there's no oncoming traffic) to avoid potholes. Potholes can do a fair amount of damage to both a bicycle and a cyclist.
   
4. I don't always ride single file. Sometimes, on group rides, I'll get chatting with another rider and we'll be riding side by side so we don't have to shout at one another. I listen for traffic approaching behind us so we can form up if there's a car coming but sometimes I don't hear the car until it's too late. If you pass me in a car while I'm doing this, glance in your rear view mirror. There's a good chance you'll see me wince and say "Sorry!!".
5. I don't always signal. I know the hand signals for left, right, and stop and I try to use them whenever my intentions may not be crystal clear to anyone else on the road. Sometimes, when the road conditions are poor or I need both brakes, I just don't feel safe taking my left hand off the bar in order to signal.

So, I'm a reasonably well behaved cyclist but I'm no angel. Most of the cyclists I see on the road are a lot like me. I've seen other riders that are not quite so well behaved. I've seen riders that refuse to form up so cars can pass more easily. I've seen riders without helmets or with ipod earbuds stuck in their ears. I've seen riders blow through intersections when they should have stopped or yielded. I've seen incredibly rude riders fly through quiet neighborhoods shouting at each other and nearly running over dogs and pedestrians. I've seen riders blatantly ignore the rules of the road cutting in and out of traffic, on and off of sidewalks, creating dangerous situations for themselves, pedestrians, and motorists. I've also seen riders stopped and ticketed by police officers -- Good job, Mr. Police Man!

We cyclists are not angelic. And some of us are, I'm terribly sorry and embarrassed to say, downright rude, obnoxious, and unsafe. But those arrogant turds are the minority. Most of us actually do try to share the road politely, safely, and legally.

On the auto side of the argument, Ms English states, "I divide dangerous drivers into two categories: angry or stupid." (Note we're only talking about the drivers that cause trouble for bikers, not the many polite, knowledgeable, safe drivers.) Angry or stupid? Anger or frustration do not necessarily lead to dangerous behavior. And stupidity is not the same as ignorance. Perhaps I'm just picking on semantics here, but I think "belligerent" and "ignorant" work better than "angry" and "stupid".

Belligerent drivers are the worst. But I don't think I really need to explain this one much. These are the folks that throw things (lit cigarettes, McDonald's bags, drink cups full of ice, random trash, dirty diapers) out their windows at bikers. These are the folks that try to run bikers off the road. These are the folks that lay on their horn or shout nasty things as they pass. These are the folks that get behind the wheel when they've had a few too many. Bullies, a$$holes, whatever you call them, they're intentionally creating dangerous situations and we can only hope they land in jail or earn themselves a posthumous Darwin award. Thankfully there really aren't that many of these dip-twiddles around here. Apparently they're all moving to Boston.

Ignorant drivers are less dangerous but far far more plentiful. There are only a few things you need to know to safely share the road with cyclists. It amazes me that this stuff doesn't seem to be mentioned in drivers education classes. I would love to see a greater effort on the part of cyclists' organizations to educate motorists. From my personal experience, here's what I think all motorists should know:

1. Six feet. That's about half a lane. That's how much room a standard size car or motorcycle should give a cyclist when passing. More is always better, but six feet is enough. And remember, oncoming cyclists need at least half a lane, too. Unless your car is very small it's probably best to wait for ALL oncoming traffic, including cyclists, to clear before passing.
   
2. Ten or more feet. Most of a lane. That's the minimum amount of space an oversize vehicle (van, suv, full size pickup) or anything pulling a trailer should give a bike. Trailers are often wider than the vehicles that are pulling them. I can't even count the number of times I've been scared silly by a trailer passing far too close.
3. Horns are startling! Even when you just tweet them. There's really no need. Unless you're driving a quiet little hybrid on the electrics, I can probably hear you coming without you hittin' the horn.
4. Cyclists' hand signals are the same as drivers' hand signals. You learned this one in driver's ed. Here's a refresher: left hand strait out = left turn; left hand up, elbow bent = right turn (some cyclists point with their right hand); left hand down, elbow bent or strait = slowing or stopping. You may also see cyclists pointing at various places on the road, or at branches hanging over the road, or at pedestrians or slower cyclists ahead. They're pointing out hazards to other cyclists that may too close behind them (drafting) to see what's coming. As you approach or pass cyclists you may hear them shout to riders ahead. They're usually saying "car back!" to warn the other cyclists to form up and be cautious because a car is trying to pass.
5. Motorists, please use your signals to let cyclists know what you're doing! Be predictable so we can stay out of your way. I nearly got into an accident the other day with a motorist trying to turn left without a signal -- I was trying to make a left and merge in behind him, but he was unexpectedly slowing to turn onto the street I was coming from. I ended up turning 180 back onto the street I came from from. He yelled something nasty at me as he passed, but I wouldn't have been in his way if he'd used his signal.
   
6. Don't be alarmed or annoyed when cyclists pull into the stream of traffic at an intersection. That's the safest place for us to be. Cyclists should be given their turn at a four way stop just like a motorist. Cyclists should take a position in the left half of the lane or in the right half of a left turn lane when turning left.
   
7. By law cyclists are supposed to keep right or stay in a bike lane if there is one. However, this rule does not apply when a cyclist is turning left or avoiding hazards. Have you seen Michigan roads lately? Cyclists in my neck of the woods spend a lot of time avoiding hazards. Expect it.
8. Yield the right-of-way to a cyclist just as you would another vehicle.
9. Put away the cell phone and don't drive if you've been drinking. There's nothing more likely to kill a cyclist than a distracted or, worse yet, inebriated driver.

If you, as a motorist, remember these things. If cyclists also behave themselves, the roads will be a lot safer and more pleasant for all of us. Ms. English closes her blog post with this:

"What both bikers and drivers need to do is to understand that neither one owns the road, that both sides must share it in order to ensure everyone's safety. In Rodney King's immortal words: 'Why can't we all just get along?'"

I can't argue with that!

I'm already getting rather long winded here and I haven't even addressed any of the comments to the Boston Globe blog post. I'll save that for later.

In the mean time, If you happen to live in Michigan between Ann Arbor and Jackson within about 15 miles north or south of I94, be on the lookout for me and well over a thousand other cyclists on the roads tomorrow. Every year on the second Saturday in July the Ann Arbor Bicycle Touring Society puts on One Helluva Ride. Last year there were 1730 riders. The century (100 mile) route, which I'll be riding, starts at the Chelsea fair grounds and makes a big loop through Dexter, Hell, Gregory, Stockbridge, Munith, Portage Lake State Park (where we have lunch), Napoleon, Grass Lake, Sylvan, and back into Chelsea. Come out and wave, or better yet, get on your bikes and ride!

Tires and tubes and spokes and tape

My bicycle recently turned over 5500 miles. I am proud to claim responsibility for every single last one of those miles, up hills and down them, into the wind and with it. However, I'm a bit ashamed to admit that I haven't really kept up with all the routine maintenance like I should.

A few weeks ago my brother-in-law helped me with a few things. We (he) swapped out the chain and the cassette (that the set of gears on the back), repacked the bearings (there are all these little ball bearings in the center of the wheels that sometimes need to be removed, cleaned, put back, and loaded up with fresh grease), and adjusted the fit a little (my knees are pleased). He mentioned that I might want some new tires and new handlebar tape. I decided to wait until later.


Later is now. Last week I wore through the last little bit of cork tape south of the right hand brake hood and it began to unravel. And, Saturday, as I was checking my tire pressure, I noticed just how very worn my tires actually were. The unraveling tape looks shabby but isn't that big a deal. The state of the tires, on the other hand, had me worried. Worn tires lead to flat tires.

There are, in my estimation, four quick ways to ruin a fine day of riding:

1. Crash.
   
2. Get run off the road by an ignorant dillweed.
   
3. Encounter truly nasty weather.
4. Get a flat.

Number 4 is probably the most frequent, though the local population of ignorant dillweeds does seem to be on the rise. Seriously, though, getting a flat is a ride killer. A bicycle flat is almost as big a pain as an automobile flat. Smart cyclists carry at least one spare tube, tire levers, a frame pump or CO2 cartridge, and a dollar bill*. So it's all fixable, but changing a tube while sitting in a drainage ditch surrounded by a swarm of hungry mosquitoes has got to be the very definition of NO FUN.

Luckily, it's been a while since I've had to do that (knock on wood). I rode Saturday on the worn tires and probably could have gone another month without incident. But I wasn't going to take the risk. Before riding yesterday I ran to my LBS (that's "local bike shop" for you non-cyclists out there) and picked up some supplies.

Swapping out bike tires sounds easy, and the LBS guys make it look easy. But it's not. I've got the broken nails, gashed knuckles, and sore hands to prove it.

When I put the rear wheel back on the bike and gave it a spin, it wobbled. That's no good. It took me quite a while to figure out that the wheel was seated right and the wheel itself was out of true (meaning that it wasn't a nice flat circle like it should be). Eep! That's usually bad news! You need fancy tools and more know-how than I have to true a wheel.

I discovered a loose spoke and imagined the worst. But a quick IM chat with a far away biking buddy set my mind at ease. The nipple (that's the little thingy that connects the spoke to the wheel rim) is threaded all backwards. No wonder nothing was catching when I tried to tighten things up. Thank goodness for my far away biking buddy! I tightened up the spoke and tuned it like a guitar -- you can pluck the spokes and tighten or loosen them to make them all sound the same (another tip from the far away biking buddy). All fixed.

Somehow, when I was putting the back wheel back on I must have jostled the rear derailleur (would someone please tell me why we spell it like that?). The drive train is now skipping in one of the gears I use a lot. I'll have to get the bike back up on the work stand and see if I can fix that before I ride tomorrow.

The unraveling bar tape can wait. My brother-in-law said he'd help me with that later this week. I'm really lucky to have such helpful people around!

I've spent a fair amount of time and money tuning up my bicycle this summer. I generally prefer riding over wrenching but bicycles need regular maintenance. If I want a bike in good repair I either have to take a bit of time and do it myself between rides or I have to spend twice the money and leave the bike with my LBS for a week. With plenty of friendly help I'm discovering that I don't really mind the wrenching and doing it myself actually leaves me more time to ride. My LBS is offering free bicycle maintenance classes every other Wednesday evening this summer. I think I'm gonna sign up for one.

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* Note: A dollar bill won't buy much but it should be part of every cyclist's flat tire kit. Dollars are pretty durable little pieces of paper. If you happen to cut open your tire (popping the tube is much more common but big punctures and cuts do happen) you fold the dollar bill into fourths and put it between the new tube and the cut in the tire. This protects the tube from road grit and keeps it from ballooning out of the cut in your tire. You won't be able to inflate your tube to full pressure but you should be able to fill it enough that you can ride home. I've used this trick. It works.

Success! Pain! Victory! The Tour de Cure, 2008

The Tour de Cure is a once a year cycling event to raise money for the American Diabetes Association. This year's Tour de Cure was held yesterday in Brighton, MI and it was my most difficult Tour yet. Some of it was the new route, most of it was the weather.

I set an ambitious fund raising goal and thanks to some very generous, wonderful, and amazing people I was able to bring in just over $500 for the ADA this year. Huge thanks to everyone that sponsored me. You all rock! Success!

Registration started at 7am. I hauled my carcass out of bed before 6 to get some breakfast, pack up my bike and gear and get to Island Lake State Recreation Area by 7. If you know me you know that I find 6am to be an ungodly wicked and horrible hour for any human being to be pulled from a peaceful slumber, especially on the weekend. It was an act of sheer will combined with love for my cause and my bicycle that got me to registration on time.

That photo was taken after the lines had died down. The start time for "50 and 70 mile" riders was 7:30am. There were a lot of "50 and 70 mile" riders this year. I put that in quotes because the "50 mile" route was only 48 miles and the "70 mile" route was just shy of 63 miles. This discrepancy was noted on my comment card along with a note that the ride is getting too big for a group start.
The group start meant long lines at registration and a peloton at the start of the ride. A peloton (big bunch of riders all packed together) might look fun on tv, but it's actually super scary and dangerous, especially when you're sharing the road with cars and most of the riders have very little experience with cooperative riding.

Having aired my complaints, I must tell you, the volunteers and organizers really did a wonderful job. The route was challenging (which is usually a good thing if the weather isn't terribly hot, muggy, and windy -- something they certainly couldn't have predicted) , the rest stops were well spaced and well stocked, and the volunteers were friendly and helpful and all around wonderful.

The ride began with several miles of rolling hills through Kensington Metropark.

A pretty way to start the day. It was still under 80°F and the wind hadn't kicked up yet but the big rain storms Saturday night left the air heavy and wet.

Kent Lake (above) is the main attraction at Kensington Metropark. It's very pretty in the morning.

After Kensington we headed up past the GM proving grounds, then north and west to Highland State Recreation Area. Then we turned south toward Proud Lake and west, back again to the proving grounds. And then we headed further south returning to Island Lake where an out-and-back in the park brought us to 63 miles and the finish line.

As the day wore on the temperature and humidity climbed and so did the wind speed. It seemed like every corner we turned pointed us uphill or into the wind. I think I drank my weight in gatorade and my brain still felt like a fried egg before we finished. Pain!


We hit this rest stop near the proving grounds twice: once at 17 miles and again at 40 miles. By the second stop here I was sore and feeling dehydrated, though I was drinking water and gatorade by the gallon. And I was pretty sure I'd suffered sunscreen failure -- luckily I was wrong on that front and ended up with nothing more than a darker tan and a pink nose.

There were an unusual number of flat tires on this ride. The gentleman I ended up riding most of the ride with got one (his first flat tire ever), and we passed probably ten other riders changing flats. I wonder if weather was to blame? Or little bit of extra sand and gravel on the roads from Saturday night's rain? Somehow I escaped a flat this time, but I harbor no illusions about my tire luck. I've had not a single flat all last year or so far this season. I'm seriously overdue.

The last rest stop on the tour was at about 58 miles. A volunteer there insisted that we take off our helmets and handed us cold wet paper towels. Ahhh! Yes, the brain definitely felt like an overcooked egg at that point, but the little bit of cooling helped and it felt great to wash the salt off my face and neck. Somehow this, along with more cold gatorade, gave me enough strength to make it the last 5 miles to the finish.


When I finally reached the finish (Victory!!) I stashed my bike and made a beeline for food. Carrabba's Italian Grill provided lunch. They have this chicken and mushroom masala stuff that is super duper amazingly yummy. I think it would still be tasty even if I hadn't just burned 4000 calories (I'm not exaggerating -- that's what my heart rate monitor actually reported) riding a bicycle 63 miles uphill and into the steamy wind.

I headed home for some ibuprofen and a shower. A solid ten minutes under cold spray and I was finally able to stop imagining that my brain aught to be served up with toast and bacon. For the rest of the day I napped and watched tv and knitted socks (there's a blog post about those coming soon) and drank tons of water and ate every healthy thing in my fridge and pantry, and a few not so healthy things, too.

The wind, high temperatures, and humidity joined forces with a hilly route to make this the single most difficult ride I've done since I started road biking. Thanks again to the wonderful people that sponsored me. I'm very proud to have completed such an enormously challenging ride and I'm equally proud to have friends and family that made it possible for me to bring the ADA over $500.

I woke up still sore this morning but I'm feeling better and better as the day goes on. I think I have some work to do before I'm ready for DALMAC (5 days, 338 miles) at the end of August. Hopefully the weather will be more kind!

What's Next??

I always feel a little lost, a little confused and unfocused and scattered, and even a bit overwhelmed when I am between books. My to-be-read shelf is overburdened to say the least. Actually, it's three shelves and two large stacks of paperbacks at this point -- eep! I'm not exactly sure what would happen to me if I finished a book and there was not another one readily available. I don't want to find out so I keep lots of insurance.

Of course, lots of insurance also means lots of choices. I have a hard time when there are too many choices. I'm frozen like a deer in headlights. If I don't choose I will not be able to vanquish this feeling that something fundamental is missing from my life. But choosing is committing my reading time for the next several days, perhaps as much as a month, to one bit of fiction. For I am (mostly) a monogamous reader. What am I in the mood for? What sort of fiction will satisfy me this week? Do I crave something challenging, thought provoking, and dense? Or something light, entertaining, and quick? Do I want dark and gritty? Or bright and hopeful? Fantasy or Science Fiction or something else? So many choices! I've narrowed it down to the stack pictured above. From the bottom up:

• The Stress of Her Regard by Tim Powers. I love, LOVE, Tim Powers. I discovered him many years ago and I carefully ration his work. I do not want to run out of Tim Powers. His work is savory and full of texture. It's gritty and dark and ironic. His secret histories are my favorites. I'm not entirely sure what this book is about, but it's Tim, it will be tasty.
• Axis by Robert Charles Wilson. I really liked Spin. Apparently lots of other folks did too -- It won the 2006 Hugo. Axis is the sequel.
  
• Empire of Ivory is the 4th book in the Temeraire series by Naomi Novik. I've read the first three. These are set in the Napoleonic era and the style is similar to nautical fiction. Only, there be dragons. And the dragons are really nifty! I'm not entirely sure what prompted me to pick up the first book. Perhaps it was all the hype. Anyhow, these books are tons of fun.
• War for the Oaks is apparently Emma Bull's best known work. I recently read Territory and, oh boy, is it ever good! Territory is a secret history of Wyatt Earp and Doc Holiday. Blew my socks off! I was drawn to Emma Bull because of Shadow Unit. If you have not checked out Shadow Unit yet, you are missing out bigtime.
  
• Maelstrom by Peter Watts is the sequel to Starfish. Peter Watts won my undying allegiance with Blindsight. That book will twist your brain around in painful and disturbing ways and you will like it, nay, love it! And you will beg for more.
  
• Whiskey and Water is Elizabeth Bear's second Promethean Age novel. I discovered Bear a little over a year ago and have since devoured all of her novels. I have this and Companion to Wolves left before I'm caught up with her current published works. She's so prolific that I don't worry about catching up (like I do with Tim Powers). Bear is my hero. Her fiction all has a minimum of eighteen layers with subtext and allusion. It tends to be dense and challenging and the more effort you put into it the more enjoyable it is. I'm anxious to get through this book because I'm really looking forward to the next two Promethean Age books set in Elizabethan times. I suppose I could read the next ones without reading this one first since the Elizabethan ones are prequels, but I get kinda twitchy when I read things out of published order.

Decisions Decisions!!

At least I know what I'm knitting next:
I'm going to learn to knit socks! This will be a nice change from The Sweater which is now only a few days from completion. I picked up Knitting Circles Around Socks at the Whitmore Lake Yarn Co when my super awesome friend Mary (who writes Shazam in the Kitchen -- a very fun food blog) happened to be in town. The people there were very nice and recommended this book for learning to knit socks two at a time on circular needles. Unfortunately I bought only one skein of sock yarn so I'll only be able to knit one sock at a time (I could work both ends of the skein, but then the pattern that the yarn makes would go opposite ways on the socks and that might be weird). I think I could learn with two at a time but for the sake of the socks I will take it slow and do them one at a time.

Now that I've spent half the day indoors writing about books and knitting, it's time to get out in this gorgeous weather and put a few miles on my bicycle! I rode 20 miles yesterday with the local bike club and I hoping to get in 25 or 30 solo miles today. Tomorrow will likely be a few more bicycle miles and a nice long walk to prepare for this next weekend.