I Quit

CAUTION - NEW POST AHEAD



That's it, I quit. I'm resigning from our society. Maybe seceding is a better term. I'm going to form my own separate society. Want to know why? I'll tell you...here's a list

1. Monopoly Electronic Banking Edition - This new battery powered wonder replaces the beloved rainbow of paper Monopoly money with...DEBIT CARDS! I shit you not, it comes with a little mini card reader and debit cards. The "banker" simply key in the property amount (now in the tens of millions - inflation, ya know) and swipe your card. No muss, no fuss, no MATH, no THOUGHT. Who didn't practice making change by being the family banker? Anyone not secretly treasure those orange big-money bills? No wonder every pimply fast-food cashier needs an online toush screen register to make change and our banking system is in ruins. For GOD'S SAKE people, don't rob the next generation of ANY CHANCE to master simple math! Oh, and just so you can pick ahead of time, the player pieces now include a dog in a handbag, a Segway, and a flat screen TV.

2. The Decline of Western Education. The generation currently graduating high school is the FIRST EVER to have a smaller percentage earn diplomas than the preceding generation. I don't want to scare you off by turning this into a word problem, so I'll summarize. For the first time in American history, we are measurably (in the scientific sense) getting DUMBER. You can skip all the granola-munching "a diploma doesn't equal intelligence" crap. It's bullshit, and deep down, you know it.
Secondly on this point, since 1997 there has been a 20% decrease in the number of BS degrees awarded in hard sciences (engineering, chemistry, physics,etc.) This means that we as a society have decided that warm, fuzzy learning like pet psychology and history, are more important than knowledge that allows you to MAKE things. Making things is fairly central in advancing as humans and having a stable economy. And that puts us at a distinct disadvantage against other societies that are working hard to teach all their little rug rats math and chemistry. Think about that. I'm sure I'm going to get some hate mail from all my liberal arts friends. Sorry, you guys are the exception. Really.

3. Paris Hilton. Okay, I really have nothing against her personally, hell, I've never even seen her video. But she has come to stand for our current obsession with status and image in place of substance and value. You can go ahead and add American Idol, Survivor, and almost every other reality show to that list. At some point, we gave up on really working on any sort of base value, and just settled for a quick paintjob and some chrome plating. Worse yet, we've begun to wear our stupidity and lack of any ability with PRIDE. Suddenly, it's okay to be inept and useless. Think about Paris's reality show and tell me I'm wrong. Look, people, if you can't do something useful here on Earth, QUIT BREATHING MY FREAKING AIR.

4. Politics. Despite my outlook on the new president-elect, I think the state of American politics is deplorable. It would qualify as laughable if it wasn't costing us the country. Look, if any executive had screwed up as bad as the people we put in charge over the last decade, we would have fired them and probably arrested them. At best, they would have gone out of business and ended up making incorrect change at a fast food restaurant. We trusted them to be educated and make the right choices for us all, but instead they've made choices that made quick-kill profits but turned a blind eye to the long term investment. Now there's lots of argument about how to fix everything, but nobody wants to talk about the road we took to get here. Seriously, when the Russians and the Canadians are pointing and laughing, how bad have we screwed the pooch?


Okay, that's the top four. I'll give you the others when I catch my breath.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING

Back in the Saddle Again

due to weather and work, I had been off the bike for over a week when I finally found time for a ride last Thursday night. As a matter of fact, I had been off the ROAD bike for almost 2 weeks before we headed out into a beautiful, warm evening on our velocipedes. I wasn't sure if I could make it around the full 25 mile Perry lap, or if they'd have to leave me hunched in a ditch somewhere quietly crying and rocking myself gently. Luckily, I found my groove and avoided all but a little crying and rocking. Really, half of my mental malaise was just being off-bike, I think. Somehow things always look rosier perched on a good bike. My dear wife even commented that it was plain sickening how quickly my mood improved once I started pedaling. I countered that she therefore assumed I was in a BAD mood to start, which wasn't the case. Of course looking back, it was the case.

As it usually does when I've been bikeless for a while, the peculiar grace of our hobby struck me solidly about two miles into the ride. Here we are, bipedal creatures, whose limbs have evolved (or were created) for piston-like resistance to the anchor of gravity, whirling along whilst straddling an ungainly contraption that, if left to its own devices, would topple resolutely to the tarmac and lie like so much scrap. There is nothing obligitorily natural between the motion of a cyclist and the motion of a walking man. Having one leg on each side of a solid rail is usually not the way to get somewhere. Small rubber tires that hold less air than one swimmer's lung are generally not what you want for covering distance.

And yet,
Here we are. With the open fields of soybeans slipping by in near silence, save the rush of the breeze, pouring ourselves over the asphalt into the cool shade of the pecan grove. Not for some short distance that can be seen or grasped, but over miles and miles, ending where we began in geography but leagues away in experience. Having surveyed the usual countryside, we return by circuitous route, to the place where we first mounted the odd contraption, and we are all - slightly - changed by the journey. As peculiar as the motion and the form of the cyclist might be, more peculiar still is the change wrought on the cyclist. How differently does a wren exist having jumped the nest and flown? Can a robin, back in the safety of a nest, still smell the high air currents that sift occasionally from a ruffled wing? we are cyclists not by the ownership of a bike, or spandex, or any other item. We are not cyclists because we think bikes are the great white hope of alternative transportation. We are cyclists because of the miles and leagues and centuries of wind blown past our forearms, through our helmet vents and spun crazily out through the whirling spokes of our driving wheel. We are cyclists because now matter how clean, the smell of the wild breeze and open path cling to us.

time flies...

Man, it's been over a month since I posted to the blog. Sorry for not updating. Work has hit high gear, like it usually does about this time. With implementation of the new MIS system looming, I have even more to do at work, so I seem to have fewer hours to accomplish it. Lots of projects. Lots of stress.
Combine that with the never-ending tropical storm Fay keeping me off my bike, and you have one grumpy puppy.
Suddenly, my birthday is right around the corner. As a kid, this was a great thing. as an adult, it means I have to pay lots of money to the state for car tags. Great, now on top of work-stress and no-bike stress, I've got no-money stress.
Beautiful.
At least it looks like the remains of tropical storm Fay is moving off, so maybe we can get back outdoors. We'll go walk Thomson tomorrow to check for storm damage, and hopefully we'll be out on the road bikes Thursday night. Maybe that will ratchet down the stress-o-meter.

Foiled Again

I started the day today at our Oconee office in Greensboro (GA), which meant leaving the house at 5:45 AM, at which time I'm usually in my birthday suit sleepily rummaging through my underwear drawer wondering what color drawers complement khakis and the clean-shirt-of-the-day. Oooh, sorry for that image.
Anyway, I had to meet a tech guy there to finish up the hardware install for the network in the new office. He was an hour late, so I sat like a lump for a while, then I sat for a while longer while he set up the equipment. I dashed back to Macon and picked up my road bike from the shop. I had to have a spoke replaced on the rear wheel that let go on the ride Saturday. I also had them face the bottom bracket shell. When I installed the bottom bracket and torqued it to the recommended spec, it developed a bind in the rotation. The included instructions (where English was the fourth language down the line) told me that if a bind developed from an out of true shell the proper procedure was to back the piece out, add some lock tite and tighten to 30 Nm. I did that. Well, all except the LockTite part. Hmmm..that detail might have kept the bottom bracket from unscrewing...which it had. It was unscrewed about an eighth of an inch. EEK.
Anyhoo, I picked the bike up and hauled back to work, only to run into some network issues that jumped on my ass like angry beavers on the last sugar maple. I really wanted to ride tonight, for no other reason than to test the terry saddle on the road, but the angry beavers got the best of me. I had to bail on my ride buddy and work late. It sucked, but I did manage to trap the angry beavers and back them into a corner. At least if I had to work late, I came home wearing a nice beaver pelt cap.

But I still didn't get to ride. Bummer.

Going the Distance

Yesterday we rode from Perry to Montezuma for ice cream. On our road bikes, I mean.



No, really, we rode from Perry to Marshallville and then to Montezuma so we could get some ice cream at William Brown's Farm market. We left at 8 AM so we would hopefully be back before the real heat of the day. The mileage totaled a little over 50 miles of *fairly* flat roads with *fairly* light traffic. We put together the ride as a social ride, keeping a slow pace so we could ride together and talk. This also made the ride more approachable to newer riders like Carrie.
I think everyone had a good time. I drifted around in the pack and could hear conversations on all kinds of topics throughout the ride. It's nice to have rides like this because it gives us the chance to really build friendships and a sense of community. Fast rides are great for training, but when the pack is running 20+ mph, no one has much of a chance to talk about the movie they saw last night or the great car they just test drove. Hell, most of us are too busy trying to suck in more oxygen than a human should need to bother talking. Social interaction isn't the point of a training ride. A training pace ride is meant to make you a faster rider, and talking doesn't write that check. Talking is necessary, however, to make a stronger community. People who are only concerned with being faster are missing out on half the reason to ride. Some people join gangs, pledge fraternities, or pay country club dues just to find some sense of belonging. It's human nature to go to almost any length to be part of.....something. Locally and all around the world, there's a huge clan of people who pedal, and all it takes to be a part of it is to show up. It's a damn shame that some people miss out.

Okay, enough soap-boxing. The ride went well. I've managed to convert the road bike to an all-Campy drive train with a shimano rear wheel and cassette, and thanks to the Jtek Shiftmate, it's working pretty well. It hangs between gears once in a while, but no more than the all-cheap-shimano drive train I was running. The shorter crank arms feel worlds better, and the aero drop bars are really comfortable. In general, I'm feeling better than ever on the bike. I did find that after about 30 miles my saddle is near insufferable. Now, at some point, even the best saddle starts to feel like glued down shards of glass, but I think mine could be better. I swapped the Terry Fly onto the road bike today, so we'll see if it's any better. Several of the guys have offered the use of their box-of-rejected-saddles so I can try a few and find what works. Looks like more product testing.

Diana and I had said at one time that we would do our first Century ride this fall at Albany's nut roll, but after riding 52 miles, I must say that 100 seems like a stretch.

Of course, I would have said that about 50 miles not long ago.

Better find that saddle.....

Locals Only #2

Emilio's Cuban cafe, 402 Hwy 247, Bonaire

Emilo's has been open several months and we've eaten there several times. It manages to pull of a surprising combination of good food and good atmosphere in a standard strip mall, which is pretty impressive. I drove by it in the new shopping center at the corner of Sandy Run Dr and Hwy 247 every day for quite some time before stopping in. I was definitely missing out.

The cuisine is traditional Cuban, with lots of starches, spiced meats, and (of course) black beans. When I say the meats are spiced, I don't mean they're habanero hot or jalapeno driven. I mean there are a lot of spice flavors involved, with lots of emphasis on garlic and onions. It bears some taste relation to Mexican fare, but also has a lot of ties to traditional American comfort food. Don't expect to attack the main courses with vegetarian glee or low-carb fervor.

The appetizer selection is a little limited, but you won't find anything they serve on another menu in town. The Yuca Fries ($4.25) are akin to firm, dry french fries, and are well worth the time just for the Mojo sauce they include. They come nice and crispy and the sauce is a wollop of garlic goodness that's cooled with a cream base and maybe cilantro and lime. Whatever is in there, it's an Emilio's secret, and it's damn good. The Ham Croquettes ($3.00) were kind of like salmon patties made with ham. Wait, it's not what you're thinking, they were good! A little on the greasy side, but how can you dislike fried ham?

They do of course offer a Cuban Sandwich ($6.25) and it's tasty. It could have a little more meat for the price, especially since it's sans sides. You can get a 1/2 Cubano on the lunch specials menu with sides of rice and beans for $6.75, which I think is a better deal. They do have several other sandwiches and combos as lunch specials, and also serve breakfast.

All the dinner entrees include choice of white or yellow rice (get the yellow), Black or red beans (black, of course) fried sweet or green plantains (sweet, definitely) and mojo marinated boiled yuca or yuca fries. I really like the boiled yucas - lots of onions with a tang of lime or maybe vinegar and plenty of garlic. The staff calls them "an acquired taste" but I acquired it the first time I tasted it. With all of those side, you better come hungry.

My favorite entree is the Lechon Asado ($10.95) which is marinated pork served shredded. It looks dry, but is actually slow cooked to juicy, spicy perfection. The Arroz con Pollo ($10.95) is the cuban version of chicken with yellow rice, and it's 100% comfort food. Good and filling, and packed with subtle flavors. The Carne con Papas (meat and potato stew) also hits a comfort food home run, so thick and chunky that it's served on a plate and doesn't run around. They also offer a sampler platter that lets you pick out a new favorite.

If you have a sweet tooth or a chocolate obsession, don't miss the Mid-Night Havana Cake ($4.50.) It's a chocolate mousse cake that absolutely defies description. Unless you're a chocolate professional, it may be too much for you. If you are there with your spouse, order two if you want to stay married. Trust me.

The last item to cover is the coffee. If you go, you have to order the Cafe con Leche, a beautiful concoction of steamed milk and Cuban espresso. The coffee is strong, the cup is large, it has about 3 cups of sugar in it, and it may be the best coffee I've had in town. There's a reason some of the staff wear t-shirts that read "Powered By Cuban Coffee."

As with other local dining, the service has been good every time we've been there. The wait staff is happy to explain any of the dishes and make good recommendations. The management even happily stayed open late the last time we stumbled in five minutes before closing. And they even have killer live music once a week! So, go try some thing new, maybe you'll find the comfort food you've always dreamed of.

This is your town. Eat here!

Ridin' the Broom

Well, I went out on the Tuesday road ride as usual, despite the near-record heat. It was actually a pretty nice night for a ride, once we got rolling. I was feeling pretty good for not riding in a week. I've been concentrating on pushing harder on the climbs, and they were seemed easier tonight. I don't know if they really are, or if I was just having a good night. By the time we reached the silos and turned right on Mosely, I had finished one bottle of water and the second was as warm as bathwater. Since One of our good friends and fellow cyclists lives on Mosely, I planned a stop for fresh ice water.

Everything was great until we started back out of her driveway. When my back tire hit the street, it didn't feel right. It was everything but flat. We rode back down the driveway and borrowed a floor pump, only to watch the guage fall from 100 to 90psi in less than a minute. Sigh. I think I might have pinched the tube coming over the construction on highway 49.

Now, being a fairly prepared kind of guy, I do carry a spare tube and tire levers and stuff. But frankly it was too damn hot to bother changing the tube when Kat offered a ride back to the store in a nice, air-conditioned truck. I'll get to it before the next ride.

Hey, everybody rides the broom once in a while......

Using My Marbles

Well, another weekend done and gone. I read an account once of a late-middle aged man who suddenly realized that he had a limited number of weekends left in his life. He bought a bunch of marbles and counted them out into a big glass jar, and every Sunday night, he'd take one out. I guess it's a bit morbid, but on Sunday night, I like to look at the marble I'm holding in my hand and ponder if I've spent it well. It's a process that will make you reevaluate what you do between work days. I'm still relatively young, still not half way through the average life expectancy of the American male, so I don't mind dropping a marble in the work bucket occaisionally, but I'm pretty stingy with them. In an effort to make the most of this marble, I worked late Friday night to set up the new server at work and get it on our network. That way I could bring the laptop home and work on the data entry stuff without spending gas money and time to drive back to Macon Saturday.

It worked out well. I cut the front and back yard early to try and beat the heat, then spent the next six hours sorting and entering info on all our materials for work until my brain ran out my ears like thin tapioca pudding. With raisins. I had a nice np and met the usual suspects for a friendly dinner of grilled beast. Today carrie and I ushered at church and went to my Mom's house for lunch and helped install a new window AC unit at their house. We did the usual grocery shopping and finished the night up with a very nice Oriental chicken salad for dinner. Now we're vegitating on the sofa and watching Pulp Fiction on VH1. A nice quiet end to the day.

So, all things considered, the marble was pretty good this weekend. Not the shiniest marble I've had, but reasonably respectable. I didn't even get on the bike. Heck, I only saw my bikes taking the road bikes out of the truck and hanging them up. Hopefully I'll get to ride a little more this week. I've got a vaction coming up that's built around riding the bejeezes out of a bicycle in the north georgia mountains, so I'd better start turning over a pedal more than once a week.

See, I figure a week's vacation is like a great big, swirled glass shooter, and I'm damn sure not wasting THAT marble.


Marble image from roscoeartglass.com - get your own marbles

Ugh...Work

Work has been picking up lately. a lot. We're implementing a new Management Information System, a big-brother-esque program that will handle everything from estimating and invoicing to logging employee time on jobs. I'm the point man on the implementation, as well as an expanding role as IT guy and sys-admin. I'm kind of enjoying the tech side of the job, but we're hitting crunch time on the data processing which is translating into more working hours. I got a new laptop that's real flash, so at least I can work from home some, but it's still cutting into my riding. This weekend I may have to come up to the shop and install the new server system which has finally arrived.

It seems like every time I get on track with more riding, life steps in and puts the brakes on. I know this is something we all fight as cyclists, but it's so frustrating. Tonight will be three times this week I brought my bike to work with plans of riding and now won't be able to. Yuck. It really sucks when it's work related. I can complain about all the things I have to do, all the jobs I have to cover, but in the end, that's my job. I'm here to handle all the shit no one else will take on. It pays all right, but it sure is a frustrating way to work some days. Of course, other days go by and it's pretty easy, so maybe I shouldn't complain too loudly.

So, anyway, it looks like I'll be riding the trainer tonight for a half hour while dinner cooks so I can work into the night on my laptop. I'd rather be out on my bike even if it is 98 degrees today and so damn dry the grass smolders in the afternoon. I'll also have to get up at the crack of dawn Saturday and mow my yard so I can come to work and get the server installed, which means I won't be working on the truck like I need to before vacation, which means I'll have to skip riding sometime next week so I can fix the truck. We won't even talk about the bike washing and repair and cleaning the camper that has to happen before then, too. And Sunday's shot because I'll have to usher at church, take mom out for lunch since I missed doing it on Mothers day (hey, there were tornadoes, man) go grocery shopping and clean up the house.

No rest for the weary. Boy, am I weary.

Flat Rockin'

My good friend Jesse was in town last week and he decided we should go to Flat Rock park over in Columbus and ride Saturday. Actually, the original plan was to go to Tsali because another friend of a friend needed a lift that direction and it was a good excuse to ride. But, the f-o-a-f found another ride and gas is expensive, so we opted to sleep in and drive less. Flat rock has been recommended by several people, but I hadn't ridden it yet, so off we go.

The trail starts in a state forestry run park on the edge of Columbus. The slick rock and creek at the front entrance are reminiscent of Indian Springs State park near Jackson, and it seems pretty well maintained, if a little aged. We found the trail head and I followed Jesse out on the trail. Which is to say, we rode around the pic-nic tables for a while. When you're used to riding deep in the woods, it's a little strange to be hauling ass through an open, well groomed area passed tables and parking lots and not getting yelled at. the trail cuts back and forth for a good while offering some steady though not steep climbs and some long woo-who downhills. Some of the ruts offer a fun chance to catch air. The trail then cuts through a couple miles of wooded area similar to the Children's home trails and emerges back into the open. Ride a little further and you come to a little slick rock and a lovely short downhill to a two foot rock step-up going up a climb. You have to commit to speed and loft the front wheel to get up it. At the last second, you think "What the hell??!! I'll never make that!!!" If you're going fast enough to make it, by that point there's no way to bail. Interesting catch 22. I made it up with no drama, but still had to stop and let my adrenal gland crawl back into it's normal spot. The final 2 miles or so are screaming fun flat and REALLY tight twisties. It's santos FL meets Sarah's Slalom at Thomson. It was so fun we did it twice! There are also some nice deep woops and one long culvert that you can play BMX on if you feel skippy. They're fun, but we somehow couldn't find the legendary Big Woop, so I can't verify it's size or woopiness. We did get in a little over 14 miles of rippin' fun, averaging almost 9mph, which ain't bad on a fat tire bike.

I'd definitely suggest making the drive to do flat rock. There's enough trail to get soundly lost, which always exciting. And if you don't have a good enough time, you can always stop at Lane Packing for peach ice cream on the way back.

Locals Only

WARNING -- Non-bike content---

For those of you that wonder where I've been and why I haven't posted, let's say that the government insists that I don't inform, and leave it at that.

For a couple years now I've made it a habit to watch several shows on the Travel Channel that feature culinary adventures in the interesting corners of the world. Tony Bourdain has become something of a personal hero. I've always liked good food (yeah, act surprised) and I'm fascinated by foreign cultures, so it's no stretch that these shows have become favorites. The great thing about these shows is that they don't feature five-star restaurants and luxo-liners. They visit the hole-in-the-wall, locals only restaurants and vendors where the food truly reflects the culture of the area. I started at some point to seek out these independant, locally owned eateries when I would travel. I found it surprisingly hard to get info on them, even from locals. When I went to Hartford, I was fortunate to have a Connecticut ex-pat working with me at the time. When asked about a good place to eat in her native city, she replied "Oh, they've got everything! Outback, Carabba's, Chili's...."

Um, huh? We've got those in Warner Robins. They're called chains, and I'm pretty sure all their food is cooked in some factory outside Albequerque from reconstituted chalk dust. What about fresh local seafood? Aunt Betty's pancake hut? C'mon, gimme something!! One of my main gripes with dining in Warner Robins is that all the local restaurants go under while there is a 3 hour (yep, 3 hour, no lie) wait at the new Olive Garden. And that's when it hit me.

I had no idea what local restaurant to recommend in MY hometown if someone asked..... I was one of THEM.

So, my quest for local food began. After just a couple months, I can tell you there are a LOT of great, independent restaurants around here. If you want to play along, I'll try to throw out reviews and finds as I discover them. I encourage you to support these places because the food is better, the service is better, and the price is better. This is your town. Eat here!

Thai Kitchen, 713 Watson Blvd across from the civic center, Warner Robins
This is my current favorite. Thai Kitchen serves, you guessed it, Thai food, as well as some favorites from Chinese and Japanese menus everywhere. The restaurant is a one woman show. The owner, who's name I'm ashamed I haven't learned yet, also takes your order, fills your water glass, and cooks your meal. Talk about being invested! She does have help on busy nights from her children. The service is personal and fantastic, but don't expect to be rushed in and out at break-neck speed. Food this good is meant to be enjoyed, so take your time.
If you're not familiar with Thai cuisine, you should be. Earthy flavors mixed with sweetness and potent heat are signatures that separate Thai from other eastern menus. Almost any dish can be ordered mild or spicy, and coconut, peanut, and lime flavors are prominently featured.
There are several appetizers available, and I recommend the Satay Chicken (on a steeck) and the Tea Roses, which are artfully formed rounds of ground pork and wonton. The spring rolls are also well worth the time just for the phenomenal sauce included. The fried dumplings vary from the normal Chinese rendition by being a more substantial pastry bordering on hard, and much less oily. While not my favorite, they may be of interest if you are a dumpling connoisseur.
The national dish of Thailand is Pad Thai, a dish of thin rice noodles with green onions, crushed peanuts, and a savory sauce made with more peanut flavor. As with most things at Thai Kitchen, you get your choice of chicken, beef, pork, or tofu. The sauce is fantastic - rich and soothing with a touch of sweetness and heavily grounded in peanuts. I can tell that this is comfort food from the other side of the world. And the portion size means you get to enjoy it again for lunch the next day!
The Spicy Red Curry is my favorite so far, a totally unique and wonderful taste. The combination of sweet coconut milk, spicy hot chilis and the bitter touch of fresh basil leaves is absolutely sublime. Served as a hot-pot with steamed or fried rice, the heavenly concoction is spooned over rice on a separate plate or enjoyed straight from the bowl. If you like it hot, order the curry spicy and add several spoons of the red pepper relish that you're given. Man, that's the stuff.
I intend to return frequently and explore the other menu offerings. Salad of marinated ground meat, carrots and lettuce? Dark red coconut cream curry paste with potatoes and peanuts? I'm hungry already!
The best part is that all this personal service and unbelievable food is reasonably priced. With appetizers in the $5 range and most entrees going for $8 - $11, you can get a real meal for Zaxby's money, with out the first styrofoam container or cup. If you want something different, you can't go wrong.

There are plenty of other good local restaurants to come, so stay tuned.

This is your town. Eat here!

By the Numbers

I've never been a huge fan of math. That may sound suspicious to those of you who know my educational background, but it's the truth. I can DO math, but it's a necessary evil of sorts. I don't like anything where there is one and only one right answer. I prefer to view the angles.
Biking however can easily become a litany of digits. Numbers bound freely around the conversation of longtime cyclists. mileage, kilometers, average speeds, max speeds, beats per minute, wattage output, VO2 max, feet of climbing, percentage grade.....the list grows beyond belief. The science of fitness and sport dictates a measurement for everything, a method of comparison that is unequivocal and free from the sway of post-exercise euphoria. When races are won (and paychecks earned) by the coefficient of drag reduction that results from an altered wrist position on the aero bars, it only makes sense to nail down the numbers.

So, I can tell you that on Sunday Carrie and I rode in the second coming of the Milledgeville Bike Club's April Fool's ride. We rode 34 miles at an average of 11.5 miles per hour. I can tell you I rode 3.8 miles at the Thomson trails Monday night, and that tonight Diana and I rode 25.57 miles at an average pace of 16.3 miles per hour with a max speed of 33.2 miles per hour. I burned 2300 calories on the ride tonight. I could chart the routes and give you total feet of climbing, and I might be able to puzzle out the wattage within one order of magnitude. I can say that on a Tuesday night, I have ridden over sixty miles already this week which is a record for me, as is the 16.3 mph average.

But it's much harder to tell you about the smell of the pines on a deserted road in Baldwin County as the sun broke through the morning mist and we climbed a paved ribbon past a white-washed church where large women in large hats were just gathering to worship. It's harder to tell you about the moment when we realized halfway through our ride tonight that we were stronger than we thought, and the way our legs and lungs burned as we proved it for the rest of the ride. If you're not a cyclist, telling you that we could barely walk when we got off our bikes and it almost made us laugh out loud at the accomplishment would be like speaking in tongues.

Numbers are easy. They're cut-and-dried and can reduce any rider to a bar graph to be compared to any other cyclist. But they're only footnotes compared to the rest of the ride.

First ride of the season

Well, our first mountain bike ride of daylight savings time was poorly attended. Carrie and I went to ride after work, and only Jesse showed up to ride. When we got there, we were actually outnumbered by people hiking with their dogs on the trail. They all left before we got out on the trail. Jesse chose to ride with us instead of doing his usual warp speed attack, and we breezed through about two and a half miles of very laid back trail. It was nice and easy. I was a little surprised that no one else came out given the beautiful weather. Oh well, guess they missed out.

Critical Mass?

Okay, maybe it's not critical. Maybe we're just approaching mildly serious. Or more accurately, mildly visible.
If you're not familiar with Critical Mass bike rides, this is a good time to open a second window and run it through the googly search. Go ahead, I'll wait. Okay, so now you know it's a mass invasion of a city by bicyclists that shuts down traffic and progresses from point A to B. The point is to block vehicular traffic and make the drivers painfully aware that bikes ARE traffic. I'm not going to debate whether or not this is effective or even a good idea, but I welcome comments from anybody who thinks they can make their point with out using the words "dude, man" or "like."
I bring this up only as a backstory to my experience on our road ride Sunday. This weekend was certainly Spring's warning shot across the bow of Winter. March comes in sunny and seventy degrees, so Carrie and I decided to join the group ride at the bike store. Diana opted to join us. Now, the Sunday ride is billed as casual, but even then I didn't expect to keep up. Carrie is averaging 12-13 mph and both of us hadn't been on a bike much since being sick. Add that to the fact that Diana ended up needing five stitches in her hand the morning before the ride, and it's obvious we weren't planning on being contenders. It seemed like there was a good turn out for the ride, and they rolled out en masse at five till one. Diana was still getting her gear on, and I was a little surprised no one bothered to check with us as they left to see if we were planning on riding with them. We weren't, but it would have been courteous to check.
We mounted up and headed out, and within a half mile Bill had circled back to check on us and make sure we were okay. We assured him we were, and discussed expected averages and distances. Once he was sure that we were set and knew that there was no need to rein in the group to wait on us, he split to catch up to the group.
We crossed the interstate and turned south, making our way to highway 96 and further south on some very pretty, quiet roads. My favorite point was a third-of-a-mile climb on shake and bake pavement on allendale road. The sun was beating down between the tall pines and we were cranking up a grass fringed stretch that felt like it could have been on a col in southern France. Fantastic.
The other thing that struck me was how nice all the motorists were. We got smiles and waves, everyone passed with plenty of room, even the guys in the heavy duty trucks were reasonable. a couple people gave us a thumbs up instead of the customary middle finger. We even had a woman pull up to a stop sign where we were resting and ask if we were okay! Concern? What a revolution!
Which brings me back around to Critical Mass. Maybe, just maybe, we are starting to have enough cyclists on the road that people are becoming aware of us. Maybe drivers are starting to see us as people instead of obstacles. Perhaps we're starting to step up to a new level of visibility.
Maybe it was just a rare, good day. But I'll take it.

30 miles, 11.5 mph average.

Oh. CRAP.

Okay, somehow I've slipped up and managed to get myself elected as Central Georgia Cycling's 08 President. That's it, I'm never drinking whiskey at Shane's house again.
But seriously, I guess it's time for me to stop muttering snarky comments from the back of the room and step up on stage. I know it's very likely going to be like having a double root canal at Lowe's sometimes, but I think it's going to be a good experience overall. Ask me in 6 months. we've got a good active group of riders in the mid state area, and I'm sure there will be a demanding chorus of complaints and ideas, but that's what American Free Process is all about. In the end I hope that I will, with due assistance, be able to seek out the path that makes riding better for everyone on pedals around here.
Thank you, and good night.

Yep, you missed it

You missed it. All of you missed it. Well, all except Brady, but I'm doubtful he's reading my blog. What did you miss? A fantastic night to ride. Last night was beautiful. Seventy degrees and clear with good tacky trails and a beautiful sunset to boot. There were some muddy spots, but what fun is mountain biking if you don't get splatter marks. Brady and I were the only ones that came out to ride, and believe me, everybody else missed out. If you aren't kicking yourself by now, you should probably start.
It's been a while since I've ridden by myself for a full lap. I forgot how much I enjoy it from time to time. Mind you, I really prefer to ride with someone else. First off, it's just fun to ride with a friend (or friends) and adventures are always best when shared. Secondly, you will never push yourself as hard solo as you will when you have someone to challenge you. Riding solo has it's own charms. You seem a little more involved in the woods. I hate to use hippy-dippy, granola scarfing new-age terms, but you really get in a different sort of headspace. Sort of a zen balance of connecting with the trail and flowing over the earth like water while at the same time finding a refreshing disconnectedness from worry and concern. And in case you're wondering, no, I didn't smoke any of the random trailside greenery.
In the end, I had a good time. I even pushed myself a little and turned in a 35 minute lap including one quick check to make sure gravity was still working. It was. Thirty five minutes is not terribly fast, in fact it's five minutes off my best time ever and WAY slower than the hard boys around here, but as an early February run, it ain't bad. It seems like my ebb tide riding schedule hasn't left me stranded too far up the beach.
And just for all you folks that couldn't make it, did I mention we nailed down a full lap without turning on our lights?
Go ahead, start kicking.

The Top Priority of the Summer

Ahh, sometimes fate drops a plan right in your lap, which is better than a scalding bowl of wonton soup, to be sure. If you happened to receive the recent SORBA / IMBA e-newsletter, you may already have heard of the Muddy Spokes Club, but if not, let me educate you. The state park system here in the great state of Georgia has bike accessible trails at several of it's parks. In order to promote use of the parks for exercise, they have formed the Muddy Spokes Club. You send in a $10 registration and you get a card. You then go to each of 11 parks and ride the trails there. At each park, the nice ranger will punch your card. When all the holes are punched, you mail the card back and they send you a commemorative T-shirt and another card. The trails range from flat, short and paved to long, mountain singletrack runs with "scenic overlooks." For any of you new to mountain biking, if a trial has scenic overlooks, it is has to be way the hell up on a mountain. Which means climbing way the hell up a mountain. The total mileage of all the trails is 68 miles, with the shortest at 3 miles and the longest at 12.
Most of the trails will probably be less than challenging, but the experience should be great. Besides, we needed a good excuse to tow our camper all over and stay in beautiful parks all summer. REALLY.
In other news, Carrie got her first crack at our normal Tuesday road loop today. Since the weather was nice (61 and sunny) we decided to embark from Kat's house and do the tuesday loop with Diana and Craig. We did the entire 20 mile loop, including the Bible Camp Creek climbs. The wind was a little on the brisk side, but I was mostly comfortable in a short sleeve jersey with base layer and tights. It was a little cool in the shade, but since it's still January, I'm not complaining. Carrie did great, once again, making it up all the climbs and even cruising at 20+ mph on some of the later flats. Since we're doing the thirty at Biking Bleckley, this was a good run up for her. We averaged 12.9 mph and Carrie said she felt like she could have done another 10 miles. I'm sure with a tasty sag stop along the way, she'll have no problem. As long as the weather stays reasonable, it should be a good trip.

EXTRA CREDIT QUESTION: What movie ended with a the start of a road trip to get Aerosmith tickets, the "Top Priority of the Summer?" Bonus points if you can name one of the characters that used the phrase on screen.

just a mechanical update

For all of the concerned readers who've flooded my inbox with impassioned concerns for Big Red's health and recovery, I offer a quick update. Nate at Bike Tech sprang into action and hunted down a replacement suspension link. Okay, in truth it was sitting lonely in their spare parts bin. Anyhoo, for the bargain basement price of $20, I've got a slightly used link with bearings in better shape than the ones I had. The link is from an '06 bike and it is heavier than the hollow link of my '07 by a few grams. It's also one friggin' cast piece with no welds to break. I'm sure the hollow links are fine for skinny racer boys, but they won't work in the big boy leagues.
So, after an evening of hectic assembly, I put the bike back on the trails, only to find that my new chain makes it painfully obvious that the middle chainring is way past usable. When you torque on the pedal, the chain skips around the chainring like a big damn ratchet. Plus the pulleys on the rear derailleur sounds like a yard sale coffee grinder full of marbles. I'm off tomorrow at lunch to pick up a new chainring, some derailleur parts, and a new shifter cable.
Fear not, loyal readers, Big Red is on the mend and should be back in the thick of the fight next week. If Sunday truly is sunny, the road bike will be back in service while Red recuperates. Wait till you see the black bike with new TeamFlipper livery.

Ididaride 08

After much delaying and trepidation, we were ushered from behind the velvet ropes of the waiting list onto the grand stage of the registered riders. Jodi called slightly more than a week before the 50 mile ride was slated to go off and announced that there were slots available from cancellations. We jumped on the chance like mountain bikers on free beer. Oh, if we had only known.
Now, for the uninitiated, the Ididaride is put on by the Suwannee bike association in white springs, FL. It is a fifty mile off-road ride held in January every year along the banks of the tea-colored Suwannee River, star of outdated songs. It's not a race, in that it isn't timed. The only point is to finish. Let me allay the tension and tell you now, we didn't. See, it started raining about 2:00 the morning of the ride and rained continuously until about 10:30. Since the ride started at nine, it was a nasty way to start a ride. Worse than the weather (did I mention it was 50 degrees?) was the trail. the first 5 miles was ridden on forest service roads cut through the north florida scrub, which is palmettos and pine trees. Normally, these roads are dark gray sand. After 2 inches of rain, they are black gumbo mud and water from pedal to bottom bracket deep. Worse than that, the roads are utterly boring. It's like the I-16 of bike trails.
Anyway, to glaze over the heartache, Carrie was done after five miles of gawdawful mud. I was frustrated and bored to tears, and we decided to chuck it in. You know when you're riding a mountain bike and daydreaming of being at WORK, it's time to bail. I was very disappointed in driving all that way and not seeing more than one tenth of the trail, but Carrie was not able to go any further. I was moving too slow to have warmed up, and starting the day with an average speed of 4 miles per hour does not make a good 50 mile ride. My bike was also making heart-wrenching noises. None of which makes me any happier about not riding.
The rest of the weekend was great camping with friends, despite the cold weather. We took Monday off to recover and clean bikes. Carrie's bike recovered nicely, but big red wasn't so lucky. On disassembly, I broke the bolt on the derailleur hanger, found out that most of the bearings in the rear suspension are shot, and found out that the Horst link where the rear shock is mounted is cracked on the weld. I don't think this ride was the direct cause of any of these, except maybe the bearings, but it's a pisser of a way to end a disappointing bike experience.
I'll probably give the ride another shot next year, but if it rains, they can shove it. I heard there was some nice singletrack, but the trails I saw would make me take up road biking. I had a great time overall, as I always do with my biking family, but the Suwannee trails certainly have to redeem themselves next time I ride there.

Back on track..er..trail

We planned to pick up Diana and rally to the trailhead at Dauset, meeting John and Kat for a little two wheeled celebration of Georgia's mild climate. It's nice to live in a state where you know there will be at least one day a month of perfect riding weather, even in the dark months of winter. It's January but I was out today in shorts and a jersey, perfectly happy.
Our big plans almost got canceled due to a family tragedy, of sorts. My Mom's dog passed away, and we almost had to cancel the ride to offer familial support. Things didn't work out that way today, but I'm sure our support will be needed in the future. That sort of thing is never easy.
In the end, we left a little later than the rest of the gang and caught up with them on the trails, returing us to our regularly scheduled program, already in progress. Carrie was excited about the day and hoping for a good Dauset experience. Everytime we go up there, Carrie seems to have a bad day. She has been getting better steadily, but Dauset tends to throw more mileage at her than she's ready for, and manages to do it on a bad day. Everyone that rides knows all about bad days, they strike for no reason at all and can be very frustrating. After her glorious success at a first road ride, Carrie started out feeling confident about having a good ride this time.
We caught up with Kat and Diana at the pavilion and then conquered Fern Gully, part of Sandy Creek, The Huff n Puff Extension, and Brownlee. Carrie headed back to the pavillion then, and Kat, Diana and I rode some more. In the end, Carrie covered a solid 5 miles, riding some sketchy stuff and vicious hills, and had a good time doing it. I clocked about 7 miles and had a good time as well, despite some gunbo-thick mud in the low spots on the extension. One of the muddy spots looked so inviting that Carrie decided to stop for a quick mudbath, but continued refreshed with no ill effects.
A lot of what we rode today was on the race course for the 12 hour. I think that I'm in a little better shape than I was then. The climbs seemed easier today, in no small part because they weren't half way through a 10 mile lap, but still..... I think I'm still seeing an improvement, which is encouraging. I've managed to lose those 5 Christmas Cookie pounds, and I'm establishing a new weight goal. By the end of the summer, I'll be down to 220 pounds. That's 20 lbs away, and I think it's attainable, but I suspect it will be a slower process this time. I don't think I want to weigh less than that.
At least, I don't think that NOW.

Happy New Year!!

For the first time Carrie and I went on the annual Bike Store New Year's Day ride. It was a first because they do this on the road, and we haven't had road bikes in the past. The ride started at about 1 PM New Year's Day and was planned for about 40 miles at "hangover" pace of about 17 mph. Now, let's be honest, I don't think I can ride 20 miles at that speed, much less 40 with the big boys. I'm not sure who really believes 17mph is a "hangover" pace, but I am pretty sure they're way too serious about training to actually have a hangover.

Well, the weather decided to be about half crappy for the ride. I say half, because, hey, it could have been raining. That would have been worse, but then I'd have stayed inside and it wouldn't have mattered. It decided to be bright and sunny - and COLD and WINDY. Highs around 50 with 25 mph gusts, specifically. Which means it was gusting faster than I can normally ride, and being of the wider variety of human, that can be great as a tailwind, and a lot like riding into a parked bus as a headwind. Some people were smart and scheduled a different bike ride.
So, after a quick raffle drawing in the store (thanks Bill, even though I didn't win anything) we assembled and departed. That is to say, our collective shivering coincided to move us in a forward direction. With semi-aero wheels on the road bike, the gusts were enough to almost pull the handlebars out from under you if you weren't hanging on pretty tight. Of course, my hands had frozen to the bars, so I was in no danger. The big event this year was that Carrie decided to come out on her very first real road ride, despite the iffy weather. Up until this point, her only experience was a couple orientation rides and a stout 20 mile trainer ride. We ended up doing 26 miles at an average of 11 mph. Not too shabby in these conditions on a first ride. We climbed both Powersville hills, rode part of Hwy 49 into Byron (the scariest part to me) and circled back through the neighborhood to end at the store. Carrie managed to drift her roadbike around a turn with a patch of gravel in the middle like a Japanese stunt driver. Not only did My Dear Wife ride all the hills like a champ and practice her cyclocross skills, she was even still able to smile back at the truck.

As a matter of fact, all of us were smiling. Frozen like cheap vegetables, but smiling. Kat and Diana chaperoned Carrie and I and were kind enough to handle route planning.
After we got back we went to the bulldog cafe and had a guinness to celebrate our survival and defrost our interiors. It also gave us a good warm place to wait for the other riders to return. Interestingly, we didn't take clothes to change into, so I actually went into a sports bar wearing tights. And I was sober, even. Luckily, the place was pretty empty, so I survived.
All in all, it was a great start to the year. Let's just hope the winds ease up.