In the Dark

Springtime in the dark

Photos in my Strava feed are few and far between right now, at least for those who ride early in the morning. The change to DST always comes inconviently a the time of year when the group rides are finally getting large enough to actually merit the "group" appellation. Although morning's WeMoRi ended with a little glow in the eastern sky, most of it was contested in the dark. Everyone (I hope) is constantly scanning what little oval of roadway the headlights illuminate, hoping to spot the next crash-causing pothole, rock, tree branch, or dead possum in time. As a result, in-ride picture-taking drops pretty low on the priority list. This photo was stolen from Jason N's feed, so kudos for pulling out the camera as we crossed Toussaint.

For some reason I awoke a little early this morning, and as I was nearing the lakefront I glanced down at the time and realized that I migh, possibly, get there ahead of the group that starts at 5:45 am from West End. I guess I hit Lakeshore Drive around seven or eight minutes after that, and although it was certainly possible that I'd just missed them, I thought the odds were better that I was ahead of them as I turned onto the Bayou St. John bridge. Sure enough, a few minutes later the group streamed by and I jumped onto the back, which immediately increased my heart rate by at least 30 BPM. That always takes a little while to get used to, especially when the group is going fast, which it was this morning. Going around the Armory loop I moved up closer to the front where Rob had already opened a big gap and the other riders were apparently still contemplating the wisdom of launching a chase. I therefore ended up taking a few brief pulls just to keep the speed up as a handful of other riders rotated through at the front, eventually closing in on Rob, only to have him ride away from the group again - on his track bike. The pace still remained pretty fast, but it seemed like there were only five or six who were interested in taking pulls, and as a result things nearly came apart along Wisner until someone took a hero pull and closed it up just before the overpass. Rob was still fifteen or twenty seconds up the road, but I was pretty sure he was going to turn off for home on City Park Avenue. Indeed, he eased up and we caught up to him as he waved goodbye, continuing straight as we turned right onto Marconi. We had a brief lull, but the pace picked up again here and there, ending with a pretty fast segment from the bridge to the "finish" at Marconi. I went ahead and did a little sprint from about ten riders back at the end since the left lane was clear.

Yesterday Charles brought over two bikes - his older Bianchi, and Jeff's Willier. Neither was shifting properly. He had tried to go out to the inaugural 2026 Loops ride at 6 pm, but had ended up turning back because the chain on his Bianchi wouldn't stay on the big ring. He had recently brought the bike over and I'd noticed that the limit screw was set so that it wouldn't go into the small ring, so I'd adjusted that, but in the back of my mind I knew there must have been some reason it was like that. Back at the house, I couldn't figure out what the problem was with the Bianchi, but narrowed it down to a problem with the shifter itself, which was just not pulling the cable more than a couple of millimeters for some reason. I ended up locking it into the big ring with the limit screw so he could ride it, which of course all explained why it had been that way to begin with. I mean, the small ring is basically just decoration for most of the group rides anyway. I suppose that pulling the shifter off the bike to do some exploratory surgery might reveal the actual problem, which may of may not be repairable. The Willier was also perplexing in that the only way the chain would go onto the big ring was if the SRAM eTap shifter was positioned so far out that it was rubbing the inside of the crankarm. Later that evening I revisited it and got the derailleur cage straightened out (literally) and re-aligned and positioned, so it seems to be working fine now. I think the cage might have been slightly bent.

I signed up for the NorthBeast road race coming up next Saturday up in Georgia where I expect to be with a few of the Tulane riders. The 6-mile circuit features a short uphill dirt road section that may or may not be interesting depending on conditions. For me it'll just be about getting some exercise sandwiched between two nine-hour drives, but it'll be nice to get out to some unfamiliar territory. Naturally it will be chilly in the morning, but hopefully not uncomfortable by the time I have to race. Indeed, we will be seeing some cooler temperatures around here by tomorrow morning. It'll be in the low 80s today, but tomorrow morning should be back down to around 60° and 48° by Friday morning. Don't put away the arm-warmers and knee-warmers just yet!

Wet Wheels

The weekend weather was forecast was anybody's guess. The forecast was calling for rain Saturday afternoon, overnight storms worthy of severe weather alerts, a clearly unpredictable Sunday morning, and rain all Sunday afternoon. The Tulane riders who were planning on racing the NorthBeast races up around Piedmont the following week were planning a northshore ride for Sunday that got wisely moved to Saturday because of the forecast.

I picked up Liam on Broadway around 5:40 am via a circuitous route to avoid the ever-changing road closures, unpaved sections, and water main explosions, and four of us arrived at Abita Springs in time for our planned 7 am start that had been designed to minimize our chances of getting rained on, based on the forecast. The sky was cloudy and there was some occasional light rain - maybe you'd call it a heavy mist - falling, but at least it wasn't cold. The first hour or more of the 61-mile not-very-hilly route was on roads wet enough to produce some significant wheelspray. Ben's route took us in a kind of unusual direction down Hwy 36 with a detour because of road work that took us eventually to the new section of 3241 that now looks like an Interstate with a 65 mph speed limit, silky smooth asphalt, and little traffic (at least until it is eventually connected to I-12). We then looped around to 40 and an out-and-back on Isabel Swamp for a store stop, before returning via a more direct route on Ben Baxter, 1083, etc. back to Abita.

Along the way there were a couple of very short prescribed leadout practices that were kind of fun. For some reason, my neck was hurting the whole time, so I felt like I was not firing on all cylinders. Still, it was a reasonably good workout, and by the time we were on the way back the roads were pretty dry. That evening we had a Teams meeting with Pirmin, who was in Germany, to go over plans for the races next weekend up in Georgia.

As predicted, there were some impressive thunderstorms overnight, and as not predicted it continued to rain most of the morning, which rained out the Sunday Giro. Earlier, it had looked like the morning would be better than the afternoon, rain-wise, but quite the opposite turned out to be the case. So by 2:30 or so the streets had dried out and I headed out for a few junk miles on the levee. It was a little windy up there, but then again I was just out for an easy spin so it didn't really matter.

Monday morning the temperature was around 70° with a bit of wind for the Mellow Monday ride. As I crossed S. Claiborne on my way out there, I saw some flashing lights down around Carrollton and figured there must have been an accident. I would later find out it was quite something else entirely.

There was a good turnout for Mellow Monday, and as usual the pace started creeping up after we came over the Bayou St. John bridge. Also as usual, the road was flooded between Elysian Fields and the levee where the storm drains have been non-functional for the past couple of years. We traversed that section, which wasn't as deep as it sometimes is, and the pace quickly ramped up again, and stayed nice and brisk for most of the rest of the ride. Charles was still riding Jeff's bike, waiting for the shop to finish building up his new Bianchi frame. After we got back to the museum for the post-game commentary I learned that there had been yet another water main rupture on Panola Street near Carrollton that had inundated the entire neighborhood starting around 3 am that morning. On my way home I rode around the area to see where the break was, but didn't go quite far enough down Short Street to find it because everything was still wet and covered with sand and mud and leaves all the way to S. Claiborne, and from Carrollton down to Burdette. A lot of cars were flooded, along with gound-level apartments, and I guess Riccobono's as well.  

Of course, everyone points the finger at the Sewerage and Water Board, and/or the City, but the reality is that nobody has wanted to deal with the 100-year old plumbing and replacement costs/inconviences under those streets for decades. In this case, a big leak had already been reported at that location and they had started excavating the site a day or two before it all exploded. So once again we are under a precautionary boil water advisory. I think the plan is to replace the entire water main incrementally in 20-foot sections, one emergency overtime disaster at a time. On the plus side, we have plenty of water pressure at the house.

The Seventies

Friendly Friday

Not the decade, but the temperature. We're just barely into March but have been treated with a few days with early morning temperatures around 70°F. For the moment at least riders have been coming out of the woodwork, and I'm not even sure where my arm-warmers are. Wednesday's WeMoRi had a good turnout, of course. As I was waiting for the group on Lakeshore Drive, I unexpectedly found Charles. He was on a borrowed bike (new bike build still a work in progress) and had been plagued by flats. He would eventually discover a tiny metal wire to have been the culprit. One of the Tulane riders has also had a flat, so a few of them had started late, but got back into the group out around Franklin Avenue where, but the way, they've got one lane blocked off and are doing some kind of road work that will undoubtedly turn otu to be a problem for us. Anyway, despite there being a lot of horsepower at the front of the group, it wasn't too hard to slip in as it went by. After the turn onto Wisner, however, it got really fast and someone rather unexpectedly blew up and let a gap open, effectively sealing the fate of everyone behind the front group of three or four - Steven, Jaden, Maurizio, and I think Rob. They were hammering hard enough to drop Steven on the overpass, so we eventually picked him up along Marconi. Anyway, it was a good workout.

Thursday's ride was also a summer kit ride and otherwise unremarkable. After the bulk of the group turned for home there were just four of us left for most of the out-and-back along the lake trail. I felt sorry for Big Rich since the other three included Matt and Jeff on their TT bikes and me, which means he probably wasn't getting any draft from the knees up. I think Charles was still having tire problems.

This morning it was around 72° with a moderate ESE breeze as I headed out to meet the 6 am group. This being the last week before we shift to DST, and back into morning darkness, it was nice to have a little light in the sky even if it was a bit overcast. As I expected, we had a good-sized Friendly Friday group on hand, and although it got a little fast here and there, I was a little surprised it wasn't faster. Afterward I made my way down Carrollton and met up with the Tulane group on the levee. Thanks to the warmer weather, they had a bigger group than they've had lately, which was nice. We stopped at the new coffee shop on Broadway afterward.

Tulane crew on the levee coffee ride

It looks like we may have an early northshore ride tomorrow. The TU group had originally been planning on doing that on Sunday, but the current forecast is for some rain that morning, so Saturday is looking like the better option. They are planning on going up to Georgia for Piedmont University's Northbeast Cycling Classic race weekend the following weekend. I am hoping to tag along for that so I can get my ass kicked by the 55 year old youngsters in the masters road race. I'll probably have to skip the criterium on Sunday since all of the collegiate races are early and nobody will want to hang around for an extra two or three hours ahead of the long drive back.

On the home front, I finally have all of my health insurance stuff set up, and I think the La Teachers Retirement stuff from when I was at LSUHSC is now all in the works, so that's good. We're still in the midst of rolling over what I can from TIAA retirement into a managed retirement account at my bank. That has proven to be extraordinarily complicated with RMD requrements and multiple accounts from 35 years of institutional changes, and we've gotten conflicting information about the process depending on who we talk to at TIAA, but I think we might be on the right track now.

Weekend Mishaps

The weekend weather was better than you'd expect for the end of February. Rouge-Roubaix was on Saturday up in St. Francisville, and as usual I'd decided to pass on that one for the usual combination of fiscal and musculoskeletal reasons. I had been thinking of making the trip anyway, with a plan to ride, on asphalt, up to the Pond Store for some photo opportunities and the change of scenery, but decided instead to ride the Giro and then a little group ride over in Bay St. Louis on Sunday.

We had the usual smallish group as we rolled out from Starbucks at 7 am. with the temperature comfortably in the low 60s, and I was expecting a nice medium intensity ride. As we came over the top of the overpass that comes down onto Hayne Blvd., I heard a commotion behind me and was able to make out the word "flat," so I slowed to a stop to look back. Just before the crest of the overpass, JC was stopped on the side of the road, having flatted, so I turned around and started back toward him. He quickly waved me on as I approached, saying that he wasn't planning on doing the whole ride anyway and that I should just go ahead. When I turned around again, the group, except for one other person, was already rapidly fading into the distance and there was zero chance I'd be closing that gap. So when I got to Read Blvd. (actually thinking it was Bullard) I turned right to take a bit of a shortcut over to Chef Highway. I didn't think there was any way it would be enough of a shortcut to put me back into the group, but at least I'd be able to make up a little time. When I got to the intersection with I-510 I didn't see anyone, so assumed that my group was a bit ahead of me, so I figured I'd turn around early and get swept up by the SaMoRi group that leaves half an hour earlier than the Giro. When I got to the Dong Phuong bakery I made a u-turn and then immediately saw the Giro group coming the other way. Unfortunately there was too much traffic to allow me to get back over to that side of the highway in time, but at least I knew where they were. So I continued outbound, but was afraid that some or all of them might turn around when they met the SaMoRi group coming the other way, so when I saw that group I made another u-turn (that's three in case you are keeping count) and got in with it. As I later learned, a few of the SaMoRi riders had turned around and gotten in with the Giro group, so I probably would have done well to have continued out to Venetian Isles. On the plus side, they apparently have one lane closed off somewhere out there for road work, so at least I missed that drama. Anyway, when I got back to Lakeshore Drive I turned around again at Marconi and rode back out to Seabrook in time to meet up with the Giro group as it was coming off of the bridge. It wasn't a bad ride, just a little complicated.

So on Sunday I headed over to Bay St. Louis for the 8 am 74-mile ride that Steve and Charles had lined up. It was a little chilly at the start, but definitely warmer than previously advertised, and I ended up being a little over-dressed. I think we had nine riders for this one. The pace was just a notch higher than usual for these rides, which was fine with me. Around 42 miles in we had a pretty long stop at the famous Beer  "Beer Chicken Vapes" store where I picked up a Payday bar.

Just as we were about to leave, Charles looked down at his crankset and frowned. The drive side Ultegra crank was coming apart. This was the failure mode that had precipitated huge 2023 Shimano recall of 680,000 cranksets, and I guess Charles had never gotten his checked out. We were still a bit over 30 miles from home, and the chances that the crank would hold together looked to be 50-50. Peter and I went into the store to see if they happened to have any zipties or wire of something that we could use to MacGyver into a temporary fix. Fortunately the cashier found a couple somewhere, so I put those on there to at least reduce the chances of the whole outside of the crankarm catastrophically separating from the rest of the bike. At any rate, it was fortunate that Charles had noticed the problem because having it come apart while standing on the pedals on an uphill would not have ended well. After a few miles Charles and Steve decided to take a slightly shorter route back to the cars.

Meanwhile, our group kept up a pretty decent pace all the way back, eventually coming apart a bit on the bridges just a couple of miles from the end. Back at the cars, I was glad to see that Charles had made it back in one piece. For background, he was riding his old Bianchi that day because his Ventum had developed a crack around the bottom bracket. He had just the day before gotten delivery of a new Bianchi Oltre frame. The Ventum was already disassembled while he waited for a few parts to arrive so he could transfer most of the components over to the new frame. Bad timing indeed.

This morning was a little bit cooler but still somewhat foggy, so I went out with knee and arm-warmers, knowing it wouldn't be fast enough long enough to get very overheated. I think this is the last week before we shift to DST and the morning rides get plunged back into darkness for their full duration. I hate that.

Over in St. Francisville on Saturday they had pretty great weather for Rouge Roubaix. A number of Tulane riders were on hand for that. Pirm stayed mostly with the front group, I think, placing 6th behind Sam on the 100+ mile long route, and Josiah, Ben, and Liam finished pretty much together in the top 40 of the 98-rider group. Will apparently had a minor fall and finished a bit behind them, while Donata crashed hard and hit her head, so Dylan, who was volunteering, picked her up and eventually sent her to the local hospital for a scan to be on the safe side.

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.