After a hike up and down the Cadillac west face, the reward for the day’s efforts was the descent. Limited slopes and generous traffic constrained peak speeds to 36mph, but that didn’t reduce the roller coaster like fun of cruising down several miles of world famous roadway without pedaling. Dad, who met up with Isaac and I at the summit for the hike, came prepared to ride back with me, but suffered a fantastic flat about halfway back at the hands of an industrial sized staple that made two solid holes.  Thus, I finished the day rolling into camp alone.

To catch up on other recent events, my bike turned 5000 two weeks ago.  It’s looking like 6000 will be about 2 in bike years.  Also, I had the longest tri practice run that I will probably get before the upcoming Timberman.  An hour of open water swim, 52 miles of bike, and 8.5 miles of runnning.  Oddly, it was more fun than it sounds, you’ll just have to trust me on that!

The bike leg went really well. As usual I found myself running my commuter wheels in a field of carbon fiber and aero bars, but I felt competitive despite the modesty of my equipment and my legs felt strong through the duration. It was a good thing biking carried me because my swim was only average thanks to a mild panic at the reality of open water swimming and the run was predictably slow. Transitions were smooth, not at all the stress others seem to make over them.

A good time, I’m already looking forward to this event next year!

Bike At The Dawn dance

Pearl Hill Campsite

I’m sitting in a bakery/cafe in with a perfectly presented Cobb salad, a patiently produced multigrain sourdough loaf, and a view of the Connecticut river. Lunch options are numerous in Brattleboro on a Sunday, but the offerings are satisfying. Arrival in Brattleboro was a two stage process. Friday night I left Londonderry with some camping gear, including the storied hammock, and my dancing shoes packed on the bike. I rode about 30 miles to a campground in Townsend, MA where I was greeted by a cozy site and some familiar friendly faces with food! Saturday was a day of exploring the park and cooking on the campfire.

The Vermont Border

Today, Sunday, came the main event. A 57 mile route separated me and this town on the Vermont border. I knew I would be passing in the neighborhood of Monadnock, but through some combination of optimism and reckless planning I hadn’t studied the topography of the course. Thus I set out with excited apprehension late this morning. As if in answer to this mental state, the road pointed up as soon as I left the park road and turned west. Up through Willard Brook State Park. Up through Watatic Mountain State Wildlife Area. Up through the NH border town of Rindge. Learning from my mistakes, I stopped when it felt right to top off a water bottle with electrolyte fortified fluid and was greeting by a cashier from one of these hilly towns who claimed a youth time legacy of 150 mile weeks riding through this territory. In one remote stretch of 119, a police escorted train of, literally, hundreds of motorcycles passed in the opposite direction. They appeared to be riding in recognition on veterans. The things you don’t see if you don’t leave the house…

View Of Monadnock

Despite the elevation, which totaled 2200′ of climbing, and 1100′ relief, peaking at 1325′, I was grateful that the grades were mostly slow and steady, with only one steep section coming out of Keene pushing me to question if I would make it over the next ridge pedaling. A headwind occasionally gusted to make forward progress challenging on flats, but mostly served to keep me cool. However, it didn’t let up either, and varying altitude was the rule to the doorstep of my destination. The Connecticut River Valley affords no plains at this latitude.

Tonight the plan is: dance till dawn at the legendary Brattleboro Dawn Dance. In my case, I predict dancing will end with me dozing off in a chair. Happy Memorial Day!

I packed up three changes of clothes in the morning and started the day with a ride to work. After work, I rode past my house and continued along the route we took on the first night of the tour, excepting that my gps kept me on course. I rode under the train trestle bridge where we agreed that Lowell is a terrible place to ride and past the dark, forested, intersection where the first and only crash of the trip resulted from Isaac’s infamous videography. I rode past the bars where some girls asked about my reflective bracelet and ended in Auburndale at Debbie’s. I didn’t renact the crash, but I did score a flat tire.

I really enjoy riding at night when it’s warm. The roads are quiet and the breeze is cool. It’s rare to even see another rider after dark. You feel like you own the road. There is less to think about. Since you can’t even read your own speedometer, just focus on the patch of road lit by your headlight and keep pedaling. I trust the gps to light up and beep at me if I need to do something. Plus, it justifies the ownership of a 12 hour headlight system and clear sunglass lenses.

47mi Support Stop

This early season Charles River Wheelmen event that took place Sunday rolls from Wakefield through forests and upscale residences in MA and NH. The course is well marked with painted arrows. Sunny and just a touch cool, the weather was perfect, and I even had a friend interested in riding at about my pace. What more could I ask for in a ride?

I don’t like the inefficiency of driving to a ride, but I’m warming to the fun social aspect of an organized event. There’s safety in numbers too as motorists are more aware of groups of riders. The noisemaker ING cowbell, a spectator handout at last year’s Hartford marathon, that hangs from the corner of my day bag has drawn more comments than ever expected. My favorite: “More cowbell!” It gives a certain finishing touch to my beater bike motif. While I was surrounded by carbon fiber containing road bikes worth more than my car all day, I might have been piloting the only rig in the event without drop bars or with a bag on the rack.

Carrying extra supplies was easily justified however, because, although conditions were ideal, the CRW support could be improved. For the $20 registration ($15 if pre-registered) you get a plastic admission bracelet, two support stops, and the finish line support. The first stop doesn’t come along until about halfway at 47 miles where they announced they were running out of… WATER! Snacks were not exciting, but decent. Mushy PB&J never tasted so good. I can’t comment on the second support stop, because I wasn’t inspired enough by the first to stop for the second. There are a few small stores on the route to keep you going. Finish line support wasn’t much better. Chips and pretzels were the only food you could count on. There were a few mini sandwiches, but they were being rationed to the degree that luck was the only way to be standing at the table when some were put out. Appreciate that these things must be hard to organize, but I expected more from a group with the prestige of CRW.

One shortcoming on my own nutrition of the day was salt. I didn’t complain too loudly about those salty finish line snacks because at that point I was ready to lick the bottom of the pretzel tray. Of course, I remember clearly how a long summer ride can leave your face and clothes caked with expelled electrolyte, but I had shamefully neglected to plan sufficiently for the replenishment. I had only mixed one of my four water bottles with my sports drink mix and I blame most of my fatigue in the last 10 miles of the ride on this shortcoming. Noted for next ride.

Overall though, a fun ride on a beautiful day!

Bike At Peterborough Town House

It was a no pressure Saturday morning and I awoke to find the air outside an honest-to-goodness, don’t-even-need-to-think about the temperature warm! This alone would satisfy my yearnings for the day. I haven’t been hot outside of the shower since before Halloween and two days ago it was snowing! Amazingly, much more was in store.

I ate way too much 10 grain cereal, practiced my 2010 campfire songs, packed up my bike in/on my car, stopped by the gym, and arrived at the carpool location in Bedford, NH around 2:15pm. In a few minutes, I got geared up, reminded myself that sunblock had been preapplied, and rolled out of the parking lot. For the few miles, as far as I can determine, I was propelled the sheer glory of sunshine. It’s 35 miles from Bedford to Peterborough, hardly a noteworthy distance, I might have to ride around town a few times to be satisfied I thought. Then again, I did remember some hills on the road going out there…

The ride to Peterborough doesn’t effectively start until two thirds of the distance has been traveled. This occurs as you pass the Milford Irving at the intersection of 31 and 101. The landmark should be notable even to motorists because this fully stocked gas station is the only establishment for miles around that is still servicing weary drifters as late as midnight on a Saturday. A majority of the more than 1500′ of climbing in this ride will keep one occupied fully from here until the two mile coast into the center of town. The total relief was expressed at a low of 150′ at the outset to a peak of 1500′ where the road crests the ridge of Pack Monadnock. I can’t imagine a better training grounds. I felt heavy, but somehow still made about 16mph average pace over the entire trip.

Now, it didn’t help that I had packed generously. Let’s review the my cargo:
– Devon (somewhat clothed)
– Three full water bottles
– Two panniers
– A change of clothes for the dance.
– Dance shoes
– An extra layer of warm riding clothes (just in case the sun failed)
– A roll of TP
– A loaf of fresh homemade honey wheat bread.
– 5 homemade oatmeal bars
– Bike lock
– Wallet
– Keys

More Pizza Than Three People Should Eat

Ever wonder how to ride your bicycle 65 miles in a day and still feel guilty? Here it is folks: enough Pepe’s brick oven pizza to fill a six foot table. A small white clam, a small mozzarella, and a large chicken and garlic. Preceeded by two house salads. Yes, it took the assistance of two other guys, including my brother who rode with me, but we were proud of this digestive feat. For the record, our waitress recommended one medium for the three of us. I still prefer my own pizza, but this was easily the best restaurant pie I can remember.

Isaac Completes Holiday Hill

Oh, you came to hear about cycling? Ok, here’s the ride: 65 miles round trip from Hartford to the New Haven suburbs. Aside for a few miles of city traffic and one notable hill, this was mostly a flat trip through moderately settled neighborhoods. At the farthest excursion after a 30 mile warm up, was about a mile of climbing with the inaccurately auspicious moniker Holiday Hill. While far from the toughest climb we’ve ever encountered, this hill has sections as steep as you please. Consider that even riding my brakes (which need some service) most of the way down I still exceeded the 25mph speed limit by 18.6mph!

An inspection of my rear wheel at the end of the weekend found a broken spoke before it was able to cause a flat. This is the second broken spoke I’ve had on the rear wheel in less than 1000 miles. Does this mean my wheel is reaching the end of it’s service life? Time for a stronger wheelset? For now, I’ll have this one strung back up this week and see what happens next. Since I can steal the identical wheel off the back of my trainer bike while I’m waiting for the repair, this failure won’t prevent any riding at all.

Luggage On Bike At Gym

Wasting no time putting my handiwork to the test, my challenge for the weekend was to deliver myself and a week’s worth of luggage the 12+ miles to work to catch a 4am airport shuttle. Benefiting again from seasonally advanced warmth, I opted two trips, a daytime one to deliver the bulk of my luggage and the early morning one for the primary purpose of delivering myself. The first truly warm saturday of the spring brought out many lightweight road bikers on the winding rural roads of Londonderry and I couldn’t help but laugh at my own image grinding through town with a suitcase tied to my rack. :) Truth be told, it was a very pleasant ride. I enjoyed the luxury of comfortable riding in my short sleeved jersey at least as much my streamlined comrades. Further, the 2am ride in reminded me of the great peace in rural summer nighttime riding.

Birthday Cake

I finished today here in Santa Cruz as Fin’s Coffee’s lone customer at 10pm local time, with a slice of carrot confection to suffice as birthday cake. Here I’ve seen more bikes at night with proper headlights than I do in a month in NH. It’s perhaps the most hours I’ll ever spend awake in one birthday. Unusual, but certainly memorable!

It’s liberating, to prove that it’s possible to get through a day without a car. Sure, I’ve done it plenty of times before, but there’s something grittier about living the necessity of not having another choice. It also simplifies things, since there’s nowhere to rush off to when you get home, although I have to admit there is still no way to be a social creature in rural New England. I can bike almost anywhere I usually drive, but when getting somewhere interesting and back takes the whole day, it can’t be a complete solution.

I’ve recruited a few fellow cyclists to contribute. My dad, my brother, and my friend Debbie have all had some role in my adventures and I’m hoping they will share theirs too.