Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Hey, this is my blog

Instead of writing one of those dreaded "oh, I have nothing to write about today" posts, I thought I'd share an excerpt of an article I wrote a few years back. This is back when I still thought of myself as mainly a "cycle tourist," and was trying to conjure up a definition of what that meant. So, in honor of the Iditarod race, here's "Of Dogs and Cyclists."

"... See, cyclists are a lot like dogs. No, not because they eat protein snacks and bark at cars. To most, a cyclist is a cyclist - but that doesn't stop the proliferation of a startling variety of breeds.

First there are commuters. Commuters are the Labrador retrievers of the pack. Throw them a good bicycle route, and they'll keep coming back. They love a good game of "catch"- that is, sprinting to catch green lights. They're highly sociable, largely domesticated and don't mind being leashed to the same roads day after day.

Then there are the recreational riders, the toy poodles. They're mostly out for show. They often have the best bikes on the block, as shiny as the day they were purchased - and often as unused. They coast gingerly along smooth payment, chrome sparkling in the sunlight, all while smiling dreamily to grab the attention of passers by.

In contrast, there are the extreme mountain bikers, the huskies, pulling their powerful bodies over terrain that nature never intended them to cross. Their bikes show the marks of a life fully lived, coated in mud and marred by deep scars. They live on the cusp of tame and wild, fully prepared for the roughest conditions. They work well in groups but their minds are fiercely independent, and they're never fully content when they come down from the mountain.

Recreational mountain bikers are golden retrievers. Like their husky brothers, they love going on long rides in the mountains, jumping in the mud and summoning their maximum energy level whenever they go out. However, they're also just as happy to curl up on the couch when the weather forecast calls for rain.

There are club riders, the Shetland sheepdogs, who are happiest in herds. They're always nipping at the heels of other riders to keep a good drafting speed as they move in formation along the road. Separation from the herd is a mark of shame.

Road racers, on the other hand, break out of the pack when it really matters. Like greyhounds, they move in graceful unity until the time comes to rush forward in a stunning burst of speed. Their sleek, lycra-clad bodies were built for speed and speed alone. They can be a delicate breed, prone to freezing in the winter and unable to carry the weight of life's necessities on their ultra-light bikes.

That's where cycle tourists are different. Tourists are the St. Bernards trailing behind the pack - big, bulky, slow, but built to last, built to withstand the rain and snow and ice and wind that gets in the way during the long haul. Tourists are well adept to carrying large loads on their bikes, pulling them when necessary, moving at a steady speed until they reach their final destination, whether it's 5 or 5,000 miles away ..."
Sunday, March 12, 2006

Kick'n it old school

Date: March 12
Mileage: 27.8
March mileage: 138.2
Temperature upon departure: 29
On the iPod: "When I Grow Up" ~ Garbage

This morning, Geoff decided - rather randomly - that he wanted to race the Kachemak Ski Marathon. The race started at 11 a.m. He got up, got ready, and got to the race start just in time to enter the 25K.

I dropped him off and took my car down to the end of the race, then went for a bike ride from there. The gravel roads were pretty sloppy today, and I'm still recovering from something or other (I don't exactly know what. I'm just not in my best physical form.) So the ride was a bit of a slog. It's strange because I felt great during a snowshoe hike yesterday - felt like sprinting to the top of the ridge because the hiking was so effortless. Maybe I'm just experiencing a touch of bike burnout.

Geoff was already back when I got home. He said he struggled to keep his balance and took a couple of big spills, but otherwise had a great race. He was one of the few - if not the only racer - skiing all-out old-school classic style (because there were no classic/skate divisions, and because it was in fact a race, it obviously made more sense for everyone to skate.) Geoff doesn't own skate skis. And he only recently learned how to ski at all - so skating was out of the question. Despite that fact, he still finished fairly high in the 25K - possibly even in the top 5 (disclaimer - there was also a 40K that most of the top skiers raced, and several finished before he did).

Still, I'm proud. Geoff and I both started skiing this season. But if I had entered the same race, I would still (now seven hours after the start) probably be lying at the bottom of some hill with a face full of snow and pole tip stuck in leg, so far in the back that there would be no racers and no checkpoint volunteers left to hear my cries.

At least I can ski vicariously through Geoff. And go for bike rides in half-frozen-solid slush piles. Ah, March.



Saturday, March 11, 2006

From the cold sunlight

Date: March 10
Mileage: 31.2
March mileage: 110.4
Temperature upon departure: 18
On the iPod: "Third Planet" by Modest Mouse

Today I learned that by riding the most direct route, it takes me 17 minutes to bicycle commute to work. It's a 15-minute drive - 6 miles on winding roads, and you can't really leadfoot it much faster. So that's good news - I can never use being late to work as an exuse not to ride. Going home, of course, is another story. I haven't taken a direct route home yet, but I'm not looking forward to actually timing myself on that climb. The goal, I guess, is to get much faster at it. Right now I'm still happy if I can keep my speed above 5 mph on the 2.5-mile stretch that makes up most of the elevation gain. That's spinning in low gears on a full-suspension mountain bike, and I can't stand at all because the road surface is still too icy (I'd just spin out, sort of like a rear-wheel-drive truck with no sandbags in the back. My butt is the sandbag). So I'm thinking my time will improve significantly in the coming weeks (or months, given this current weather pattern) Wow. Look at me. I'm using my blog to justify for my own sake again.

The truth is, the climb today took a lot out of me - I was already tired from fighting headwinds during my sea-level ride, I was feeling a bit demoralized by how fatigued I was, and the lactic acid buildup was causing my stomach to ache (does that ever happen to anyone else? Or is it all in my head?) I guess that will just happen from time to time. Some days, you're just going to be a bit off. That was me today. I barely made it home in time to catch the arrival of our friends, down to visit from frigid Palmer. This weekend - more skiing.