Missing the Rain

5:25 am. Shut off the alarm and peek through the blinds at the street below. It's wet but not soaked. Check the weather radar. Line of rain moving this way from the northwest. Looks like it won't get here until 7:30. Decide to take the cyclocross bike since wet streets incompatible with keeping air in road tires. Head out in the dark. Two miles later streets are dry. Meet the 6 am group. Work 20% harder because the 'cross bike is 20% slower. Get home at 7:17 am. Rain starts at 7:40. Sometimes it all works out. 

Long Streak

It had been a long time since I skipped a day. A week ago, the day after Mardi Gras, I felt great riding the WeMoRi, but by evening I knew something was wrong, and by Thursday morning I knew I had picked up some kind of Mardi Gras virus. Although it was looking like we'd have a couple more days of warm weather before the next cold front came through, I was in no condition to enjoy any of it by then. It was the first day I hadn't been on the bike since September 9 (yeah, I checked). I had a headache, low-grade fever, post-nasal drip, and scratchy throat. I dug the last of the zinc lozenges out of the medicine cabinet, and was pretty miserable Thursday and Friday. On Saturday I ventured out for a short ride on the levee, which served mainly to confirm that I was still a little sick. At least it was still warm. 

The weather was so bad on Sunday that hardly anybody rode, but by Monday morning I was starting to feel a little better. Unfortunately, the weather that morning was featuring a 23 mph north wind and a temperature in the low 40s -- not exactly ideal weather. Throwing caution to the wind, I bundled up and went out anyway. Three days of confinement had taken their toll and I needed to get back on the bike, if only for psychological reasons. Consistent with the psychological theme, the only other person at the 6 am meetup was Colin. This was both good and bad. On the good side, at least I wouldn't be alone and tempted to turn around and go home. On the bad side, having only one person to hide behind on such a day wasn't going to provide a whole lot of relief. The ride along the lakefront with a stiff crosswind, in both directions of course, was as hard as it was slow. The hardest part was keeping the front wheel pointed in the right direction. The wide Reserve wheels on the Cervelo are supposed to be engineered to be more stable in crosswinds. I'd hate to be riding 44 cm wheels that weren't, because even these were quite a handful. Anyway, we survived, albeit mostly well below 20 mph, completing the normal Mellow Monday route. It didn't kill me, so I guess it made me stronger??

I was still not feeling exactly great by Tuesday morning, and went out into the 37° darkness debating the wisdom of that decision. Fortunately there were a few people on hand for the ride, and by then the wind had died down a bit. I was still moderating my efforts quite a bit since, if the color of my snot was any indication, I was not fully recovered. As we finished up the lap of Lakeshore Drive where some riders usually split off for home I was secretly hoping everyone would do so and I could follow without feeling guilty. Instead, Charles and Rich continued, so I dutifully tagged along, again questioning my life choices. It turned out to be OK since the pace stayed steady, and I got by with taking shorter pulls for the most part.

This morning I went out to the WeMoRi. With a light south wind and the temperature rising into the mid-60, I was a little over-dressed but pretty comfortable. Still dealing with some upper respiratory sequeale, some of which was dripping from my nose, I was again planning on limiting my efforts. As usual, when I saw the lights coming down Lakeshore Drive around 6:10 am, I turned onto Marconi and waited to be swept up by the group. First, though, Rob and Maurizio came flying past, well off the front of the group. Of course, I made no effort to go with that. I figured Rob would probably turn off for home on City Park Avenue anyway (he did). The group came by maybe fifteen or twenty seconds later. Not surprisingly, since Rouge Roubaix is this coming Saturday, it was smaller than usual. Also not surprisingly, there did not appear to be any interest in closing the gap to the breakaway. Fine with me, considering. So it was a somewhat subdued WeMoRi - basically just paceline at like 23 mph. Maurizio picked up Lisa for a while after Rob turned off, so we didn't see really until he met back up with us on the cool-down. So I'm not feeling fully back to normal yet, but at least I think I at least avoided pneumonia this time. Earlier I'd been thinking about a last minute entry into Rouge Roubaix, but the combination of having been sick, and the $150 entry fee, killed that pretty quickly.

On the home front, I should now be all set up with Medicare and Blue Cross and Humana for health insurance starting next month, so that's good I guess.

Fash Wednesday

King and Queen as the cannon signals the start

Yesterday was Mardi Gras here in New Orleans. Elsewhere it was mostly just Tuesday. I didn't have a game plan this year, so it was a pretty quiet one for me. I went out early, skipping the sparcely attended holiday Giro, for a short easy ride on the levee before making my annual stop at the 7:00 am Royal Run. Although it was overcast, the temperature was comfortably in the 60s and the wind light as I rolled up to the crowd of people at the Magazine Street entrance to Audubon Park. 

Dylan and Josiah flagged me down as I got there, and shortly afterward Will and a couple other Tulane folks showed up. I wandered off to get an official Rex 2026 T-shirt, and waited for Rex and the Queen to arrive in their long black limousines. 

First to arrive though, was a black van from which emerged a black Lab wearing a tutu. This year, both the King and Queen lined up for the official start, signified as always by an insanely loud brass cannon over in the grass. Some years the day's royalty don't actually participate, but I can verify that both of them at least started the run. I have no idea if they did the whole lap around the park, though. Anyway, I cruised back home, arriving just as the first of the truck floats were starting to line up on S. Claiborne, right outside the window. The truck floats don't even start moving until maybe noon, and likely later than that, but I can verify that the loud cacaphony of music begins by 8:00 am.

With the Rex parade scheduled to roll from S. Claiborne and Napoleon at 10:30, we decided to walk down to the end of the streetcar line at Carrollton to take the streetcar down to Napoleon where it stops on parade days. Since we both qualify for the senior discount, a full-day "Jazzy Pass" for the streetcar costs all of 80 cents each. 

Of course we arrived a good hour before the parade even started, so we walked around a bit and then headed up Napoleon to near Freret where the Rex reviewing stands were set up this year. The front row was lined with women wearing big fancy hats like you'd expect to see for the Easter horse races. 

The parade was spot on time, and we watched I guess twenty of the thirty floats go by before starting our walk back to St. Charles for the return trip on the streetcar. I had kind of flexible plan to then ride down to the French Quarter after we got home, but I was convinced instead to go out to Oak Street to find something for a late lunch. The only place that seemed to be open on Mardi Gras day was a fairly new pizza type place in the first block off of Carrollton. We had the dog with us, and they have three tables out on the street, which was otherwise pretty deserted, so we sat down and ordered. Then, two other couples showed up, each with a dog in tow, taking the tables on either side of us. Of course Charley wasn't too comfortable with that and barked at them, so we ended up taking lunch home in boxes. The pizza was pretty good, though. By then it was nearly 3 pm and the last of the truck floats were roing by, followed by the army of street sweepers and trash trucks, so it really wouldn't have been worth going down to the Quarter, at least for me. Also, I was starting to feel some scratchiness in my throat and figured being in the MGD crows wouldn't be such a good idea anyway.

So this morning it was even a bit warmer as I headed out in the dark for the WeMoRi. The group was a little smaller than you'd expect for such nice weather, but about exactly what you'd expect the morning after Mardi Gras. I soon found myself nearer the front than usual, which confirms that the pace must have been at least a little subdued. As we came to the light, which had just turned red, at Harrison, someone went around the stopped car on the left, so I squeezed by on the right, but I think everyone else stopped for a bit and so it didn't come back together until after the overpass. Then there was a split as we approached the City Park Avenue sprint that wasn't stitched back together until the Marconi underpass. I found myself on Lisa's wheel and pretty much stayed there the rest of the ride. Things settled down for a while as Steve seemed content to tow the whole group, with an occasional assist from Joe Paul. At one point Steve dropped his water bottle and I hit it. Fortunately it was at the moment oriented perpendicular to the road, and apparently not full, because I slammed right over it without incident. As we came to the Bayou St. John bridge I saw Lisa move her hands to the drops and knew what was about to happen. I stuck to her wheel like glue when she kind of attacked the overpass and continued to push the pace, fully expecting to get streamed by the rest of the group before Marconi, which for some reason didn't happen. So there were definitely some fast segments to the WeMoRi this morning, but nothing too severe. It looks like we'll have a few days of unseasonably warm weather now until the next front arrives for the weekend and the temperature plummets down into the upper 30s or, more likely, low 40s. Typical February weather.

Another February

View from the ferry

Today is February 11.  It's currently 75 F outside. I'm not complaining, you understand. I'll take 75 degrees over 45 every day of the week. Even better, I'm not seeing anything below 52 for the next ten days. Of course, the early part of the month, and most of January, was the usual roller-coaster of freezing cold and tolerably mild, most of which felt cold and miserable to me. This is always the hardest time to be training, outdoors, in the dark.

Last weekend Charles coaxed me into a last-minute decision to join a little group for a long ride up the river on the westbank to Gramercy, returning on the east bank bike levee bike path. It would be a bit over 100 miles with a small group, but all at a moderate pace. As it turned out, though, Charles had to back out early that morning. I headed out in the dark for the Canal Street Ferry where I would meet up with Joe Paul, Alison, Mary Beth, and Jason (and wonder where the heck Charles was) for the 6:15 am crossing. The weather was looking pretty favorable, except for the expected east wind that would be increasing all day. It had been quite a long time since I'd ridden much of the westbank levee bike path. Unlike its counterpart on the east bank, this one takes a rather torturous route from Algiers to Avondale, sending you back onto the street here and there where industrial operations or the canal bridge superceded bike path priorities. 

A nice quiet River Road paceline

By the time we got started the sun was almost up, so at least visibility wasn't a problem. Once past Avondale we got back onto the levee, and I was surprised how far the bike path now goes upriver. We were nearly 40 miles into the ride before we dropped down onto River Road for the last time, stopping briefly for a store stop there. I'd been worried that the next 20 miles on River Road would be sketchy, but other than a few miles of dump trucks due to some work at one of the plants, we mostly had the road to ourselves.

Toward the end of that stretch we picked up a nice little tailwind, my enjoyment of which was somewhat moderated by the knowledge that we'd soon be riding in the opposite direction for 50 miles.

I knew that crossing the Mississippi via the Gramercy bridge wasn't going to be as much fun as I'd have liked. Although there is a reasonable shoulder to the road, traffic is generally moving at Interstate speeds, and I'd been forewarned about the infamous interlocking finger-like expansion joints. Indeed, a couple of them were almost entirely disconnected, and most of them would be dangerous to ride over at any significant speed. I ended up coming almost to a stop for each of them and putting a foot down as I crossed. A few of our group just walked most of the way, so when I got to the bottom, I looked back and didn't see anyone!  I was afraid someone had flatted or something, but eventually they appeared.

As expected, the return trip on the east bank, which was mostly on the bike path except for that 2-mile stretch where they've been working on the levee around St. Road, featured a lot of headwind. Fortunately Joe Paul spent a lot of time on the front of the group with me on his wheel. Nobody was pushing the pace, so it wasn't really all that bad, and of course we had another long rest stop along the way. So I ended up with 107 miles of Zone 2 with a total of 400 feet of elevation.  Yeah, 400 feet in 107 miles. In the end I was glad I'd gone, but it was of course a long time in the saddle that took me a couple of days from which to feel fully recovered.

Friendly Friday

This morning's WeMoRi was, as one might expect given the unseasonably warm temperature, very well-attended. As usual, I met up with the group on Marconi, slotting in easily near the back. Although the pace was pretty fast, it's still amazing how much easier it feels when you have a big group like we had today. Earlier rides this year all seemed to suffer because of the weather, and to me it feels infinitely more difficult to do a WeMoRi wearing full winter kit with a small group at 23 mph than when wearing summer kit with a big group going 28. We had four Tulane riders for this one, and I think they all survived. We stopped for coffee at French Truck afterward, which took just enough time to ensure that we got rained on just before getting home. Fortunately, it wasn't cold this morning.

Since my somewhat unplanned retirement the first week of January, I've been navigating my way through Medicare and TIAA and LTRS and supplemental health insurance, most of which is still not quite fully settled, but at least moving in the right direction. Unfortunately, that has distracted my attention from cycling related things, such as the NOBC, LAMBRA, and the Tour de La. Some of that is going to be a little late this year, I guess. USAC finally killed off the legacy system around the end of last year after ten years of trying, and changed up the membership and racing license systems completely, again. Registration and results for any races we put on this year are going to have to be handled quite differently, I suspect. As far as I can tell, I can't download the rider data, for example. At any rate, we need to get some fresh blood into both NOBC and LAMBRA and see if we can reinvent bike racing around here. Hopefully I can get set up as a volunteer coach for Tulane Cycling and Triathlon. I feel like we will be pulling ourselves up by our own bootstraps, so will need to be thinking "outside the box" as they say. We'll see.