Just One of Those Days

There was a big group for the levee ride this morning. For some reason, I was struggling the whole time. Granted, all the big dogs were out and it was fast. I guess I just wasn't really up to it today. I survived the ride, though, only to have a near-death experience an hour later on my way to work when a police car came flying through a red light at Tulane and Broad just as I was starting across. This wasn't just coasting through the intersection as the light changed. This was going around the cars that were stopping for the light and blatantly running the red light at 45 mph. I had to hit the brakes and put a foot down. Right in front of the criminal court building, no less. The air today is hazy and everyone's head seems to be foggy. We're all anticipating a cold front that is moving this way and is expected to bring us some nice Fall weather for the weekend.

The Daily Commute

Over the years I've developed a certain philosophy about communting in New Orleans. Now, you need to understand that my daily commute is fairly short - about four miles each way - so that philosophy pretty much goes out the window if yours is, say, 10 miles.

Long, long ago, in a previous life when guys wore bell-bottoms with flowers on them, I acquired an old British 3-speed frame from a friend of mine for the princely sum of $10. Scrounging through my own leftover bits and pieces from racing, along with some help from the junk parts bin at the LBS,* I pieced together a simple commuting bike to get me to and from school. That was something like 30 years ago, maybe more, and I'm still riding it to and from work most days. This is not exactly what "cyclists" (tm) dream of in a commuting bike. It has a single old center-pull brake on the front that I won at some point in the 70's at the infamous "Betat extravaganza." I built up the wheels with old hubs from the parts bin and old rims, and the tires currently on the bike cost around $7 on sale from one of the catalogs. The wheels are 27", and they just barely fit on the bike that was designed for 26" wheels, even with the full-coverage steel fenders that I got for free from the shop as take-offs from some 10-speeds they sold in the 70's. Currently, the bike is set up as a 1-speed in a gear that's really a bit too big for climbing the overpass I traverse every day. One tube is presta, and one is schrader, since that's what was around last time I flatted, and the rim strips consist of a couple of layers of electrical tape. It's been a few colors over the last 30 years, but since around '85 it's been spray-painted battleship grey - Urban camouflage. Most of the components, except the steel cottered crankset, are alloy, since that doesn't rust. That's also why there's no rear brake - too much maintenance! If I have to stop suddenly at anything over 10 mph, I'll definitely have to bail, which brings me to my commuting philosophy.

There was a time when I used my commute as part of my training, or at least for exercise. Now, however, it's just a nice way to get from point "A" to point "B." I try to emulate the little old ladies you see in Italy on their way back from the market. Those girls, on their 40-pound bikes with almost-flat tires, know what they're doing, trust me. It all focuses on trying to exert as little effort as possible. After my morning training ride of anywhere from 25 - 45 miles, I don't really need to be working up a sweat on the way to work. I am able to come in to work a bit later than most, so I can avoid the worst of the rush-hour traffic, although even that isn't really so bad on the shady local streets that I use. I commute wearing my work clothes - cotton or wool slacks, leather shoes, etc. I even wear a tie in the winter. The concession I make to the summer heat is to pack my dress shirt in my messenger bag, and change shirts at the office. On any day when it's over 75 degrees in the morning, which is about 8 months of the year around here, I arrive with a sweaty shirt regardless of how slowly I go. I'll even admit to not wearing a helmet. Somehow it just doesn't seem appropriate when I'm going the same speed as a jogger, and besides, I would end up with helmet-hair for the rest of the day. I'm already considered eccentric enough as it is without the Albert Einstein hair.

The bike is equipped with a chainguard, an old generator light, a rear rack, and a flashing tail light, along with some of those "half" toe clips, and it's really quite comfortable to ride unless there's a serious headwind. The whole point is that you don't need a fancy bike to make short trips like this, and it is actually possible to ride in regular clothes without looking like a bike messenger when you arrive at work, as long as you just keep those old Italian ladies in mind!

* Local Bike Shop

Rude Awakening

It's that time of year again. The alarm goes off and I rush to silence it. It's pitch dark outside as I fumble around in the darkened house. I dress mostly by instinct, putting on the first jersey and shorts that come to hand, but I hunt around in the sock drawer for those cushy DeFeet socks, so my toes won't be hurting at the end of the ride. I grab the keys and slip the cellphone into a ziplock bag - the same one I've been using for two weeks - and stuff them in my jersey pocket as I head down to the basement munching on a cookie. I am in zombie mode. I'm running a little late. The bike has one full water bottle and a reasonable amount of tire pressure, and I'm still half-asleep as I put on my shoes, helmet, gloves and clear glasses and slip quietly out the door. It's cool this morning - low 70's. What a treat. Saturn is still bright in the sky as I flip on the flashing headlight and taillight and make for the levee. Like an old work horse, I know this route by heart and weave through the quiet back streets, bypassing the garbage truck on one street and sticking to the smooth ones as much as I can; riding past the old streetcar barn where I have to cross about ten sets of curved tracks because there's an oncoming car.

It's still dark when I get there. There are only four of us. This time of year, as the sun starts rising later and later, people start showing up later and later too. But by the time we reach the playground a couple of miles down the road, the group has swollen to 20 or so and, with all the flashing lights, we look like a big rolling swarm of fireflies. The pace ramps up quickly and as I finally start to wake up I find myself in a small group of 4 or 5, with the pack about 15 seconds back. We're riding a nice paceline, though, and although we're not exactly hammering, we're mostly up around 25 mph or so and it's a long time before the pack finally catches us and I flip off the lights. Of course they've been chasing at about 27 mph in order to close the gap, so the rest of the ride out is pretty fast. About half the riders are sitting on the back staying out of the rotation. We coast into the turn-around and pedal easy for a couple of miles, chatting about the latest doping news and the bike rider who was killed yesterday on the Seabrook bridge when he was hit from behind by somebody going about 70 mph. I finally ride through the pack and get the pace up to about 20 and soon we're going pretty hard at around 27, with a few surges up to 30. After a while, there are only 6 or 7 of us in the rotation with the rest sitting on. Every time I drop back after my pull, there's somebody opening a gap and saying "get in, Randy." A couple of times I think about just sitting up and dropping all the way to the back, but it would probably split the group if I did. I'm pretty cooked by the time we get back and spin home in an easy gear.

Another Weekend, Another Giro, Another Hurricane

Saturday's Giro was big and pretty fast, and as I had planned I made some big efforts and finally limped the 7 miles home. I've been feeling a little better in the sprints, for whatever that's worth this time of the season. When I got home, I ate a couple of leftover finger sandwiches that we took home from a Psychiatry lecture at Tulane on Friday, sat down to watch some TV, and promptly fell asleep for a few hours. Sunday's ride was smaller and mostly slower, probably because of the strong Northeast wind that was whipping up the lake and promising a hard first half. I ended up off the front a few times just trying to keep the pace from slowing down too much, as the group kept getting into conversation mode. Howard kept surging at the front, messing up the sweet circular paceline we had going on the way out. He was aided in his efforts by one of the triathletes. Naturally, every time one of them would roll off the front at 30 mph, somebody would have to go after them. They they would blow up, the paceline would go past, and then it would slow back down. Such is life in the weekend training ride!

Meanwhile, The Brother was in the middle of Hurricane Jeanne in Orlando. The rain and wind caused some flooding at their house that soaked some of the carpet, and of course they lost power for quite a while. I called after dinner and found that they had gotten their electricity back, so that's nice, but a housefull of wet carpet is a real pain any way you look at it. They had already ripped up a bunch of carpet and thrown out the soaked carpet pad. I think The Dad is in Ft. Walton this week dealing with his flooded house. I think we've all about had it with hurricanes for this year, and I'm really glad nothing hit us here in New Orleans.

I've had a couple of people ask if I planned to change the results of the Tour de La since this year's winner tested positive for EPO. That doesn't seem quite right to me, however. The test was in February and our race was in June, and of course there wasn't any testing done at our race, so it's a pretty big leap to assume the rider was still using or benefiting from the supposed EPO use (and that there wasn't anyone else in the race who had used disallowed drugs). I'll have to think about that one. I'd always prefer to give people the benefit of the doubt rather than risk making a false accusation.

Drug Testing Hits Close to Home

So, here I am at the office late Friday, winding down for the weekend and wondering if the USCF will find the event permit that we sent for our Oct. 10th Rocktoberfest race when Robin calls and tells me that one of our old teammates who moved to NC a few years ago has just gotten a 2-year suspension after testing positive for EPO at one of the track world cup qualifiers back around the end of February. Quite a surprise, really, since this guy had been progressing nicely over the course of the last three years or so. The news made the front page of the USA Cycling website.

I guess I'll hear the gory details next time I talk with him. Cyclingnews has a statement from him in which he denies ever having taken EPO.

Oh well......

The Pack

Now this is the law of the jungle-
As old and as true as the sky;
And the wolf that shall keep it may prosper,
But the wolf that shall break it must die.
As the creeper that girdles the tree trunk,
The law runneth forward and back -
And the strength of the pack is the wolf
And the strength of the wolf is the pack.

- Rudyard Kipling

A Wet and Windy Ride - Tyler's Blood

(edited)
It seemed a bit darker than usual when I rolled out of bed at 5:45 this morning, and by the time I got out to the levee to meet the group, I could see why. In the dim pre-dawn light I could already see the dark, low-hanging clouds flying up from the Gulf. Atop the levee there was an occasional light mist and a strong sustained wind out of the Southeast. Only 7 or 8 riders were foolish enough to show up, and it was quickly decided that we would turn around a few miles early in consideration of the headwind we would have to battle on the way back.

By the time we were half-way out, it was already raining a bit, which wasn't too bad with the wind at our backs, but after the turn-around, it was a tough ride home in the increasing rain and wind - a remnant of Hurricane Ivan that had looped around in the Atlantic and come back across Florida for a repeat performance. At least it wasn't cold!

By the time I got home, the tops of my socks were black and I had road grit everywhere. I just hate it when that grit gets into your mouth, as it always does, and you can feel it between your teeth. The bottom of the tub was full of dirt and grit after my shower this morning.

Meanwhile, on the international front, Tyler Hamilton is in deep s*!t, having tested positive for homologous blood transfusions at the Vuelta a Espana and also at the Olympics. He's already been suspended by his team. I can't really see Tyler cheating that way, and I have to wonder how he would be testing positive for this (presumably they detect multiple blood subtypes) and yet not show an elevated hematocrit, which would be the whole point of this type of blood doping in the first place. Something doesn't add up here and it will take some real biomedical detective work to figure out what's going on with the testing or with Tyler.

Hopefully, his backup blood samples will not test the same and the test procedure will be inplicated.

*Update*
Looks like Tyler lucked out on the Olympic medal. They screwed up and froze his "b" blood sample and so there weren't enough intact RBCs to do the analysis, as reported by Cyclingnews.

Back on the Road after Ivan

It was a bit of a drive over to Ft. Walton on Sunday. With all three bridges over Pensacola Bay/Escambia Bay closed to regular traffic, we had to head Northeast out of Mobile and work our way over to CR4, eventually coming back down to Highway 90 near Crestwiew and Niceville. Distance-wise it was only about 50 miles farther, but since much of the trip was on 2-lane roads full of detoured I-10 traffic, it took a bit longer. There was lots of damage to see, even that far from the Gulf. Hundreds of trees snapped off, lots of downed power lines and repair crews all the way from West Alabama to the Florida panhandle. The Dad's place had gotten about 6 inches of water throughout, so we cleaned up what we could, rescued a couple of expensive rugs, and hired a couple of guys to rip up the soggy carpeting and haul it away. The SouthEast side of the roof was pretty much trashed, so I got up there and patched up the worst of it. Luckily no evidence of leakage inside. The 40 ft. boat survived well, losing the canopy on the flying bridge, even though two bow lines and one stern line were snapped. The dock sustained some fairly heavy damage, and about half of it was over in the neighbor's back yard along with the dingy that had been tied down to the boat. Looks like he'll need a new roof, new carpeting, new a/c compressor, most of the kitchen appliances unless they survive. I put a bunch of pictures on my Ofoto site. Just click the picture above to see them. The image above is the back of The Dad's house. The deck is piled high with debris from the bay. The big section of deck on the right is, we think, from a boat dock somewhere. Those roll-down storm shutters pretty much saved the day. Without them, it's likely that something would have broken the large windows, and then all that stuff would have been in the living room rather than outside.

Back on the road for the group ride this morning, and Kenny and Gina roll up to the front early are pulling side-by-side at 27 before I know what hit me. Howard is surging up to 30 or so when he hits the front, and one other guy is with us. It was great! After a few miles, Kenny looks back and says something like "the group's waaaay back there." What he was really doing was asking "may I please continue to hammer away, are is this socially unacceptible behavior?" I was enjoying the much-needed workout, so I just grunted an acknowledgement and we pressed on. First Howard sat up and dropped back to the pack, and then Kenny and Gina had to turn back early, but around that time Todd bridged up to us, so although the pace slowed a bit, we were still going pretty hard. By the end it was just me and Todd, although there were a few guys right on our heels. The pack had apparently gotten delayed when they were going around a walker on the path (way too fast) and some of the guys in back got surprised and took a cyclocross lesson on the grass. The ride back was a bit slower with more headwind, but the pace stayed pretty good.

So now I'm feeling pretty sore all over. Various non-cycling muscles got a little over-taxed with the hurricane cleanup, and the quads are complaining a little bit after the morning's ride. It might be Advil Time.

Duty Calls

Looks like I'll be making the drive over to Ft. Walton Beach with The Dad tomorrow morning to assess the hurricane damage. I'm glad I got in a good training ride this morning, because it will probably be Wednesday before I can ride again. Just a few minutes before The Dad called, I got a call from Joey D., who started racing down here, but now lives in Raleigh NC. He's on his way down right now because his father is having heart surgery on Monday. Gina's dad decided to use some of his US Air frequent flyer miles, before they disappear, and flew into town this morning. Odd coincidence. Hopefully, the drive won't be too tedious. I don't know if it's possible to drive from Pensacola to Ft. Walton on Hwy. 98 right now, and I know that I-10 is shut down across the bay since the bridge collapsed in the hurricane, so we may end up way up on good old Highway 90 for a while. Either way, I'm guessing the usual 5-hour drive will be more like 7.

Flooded Ft. Walton

Just got off the phone with The Dad, who lives mostly in Fort Walton Beach, FL. He's at the house in River Ridge right now, having left Ft. Walton for the hurricane. Ft. Walton was hit very hard and there is still no electricity. The house is at the end of one of what they call "Bayous" there. It's really kind of a bay, but at any rate, this particular property is pretty low to the water, and according to one of the neighbors, who contacted him via voicemail, his house had at least a foot of water in it (still does, for the most part). He's going to try and get over there on Sunday to take some photos, assuming the sherrif lets him in. There will be a lot of work to do, so I may be taking a little unplanned vacation in a week or two. Last time there was a bad hurricane there, which wasn't all that long ago, he and his wife had a couple of condos on the beach in Destin that were pretty much wiped out, so they sold all of that and bought a little house in Ft. Walton.

Nice training ride this morning. Folks are still a little preoccupied, and with the season winding down nobody seems very interested in riding hard. I think that tomorrow's Giro ride will probably cure that. After almost a whole week of "recovery rides" and rides to recover from the recovery rides, I'm feeling kind of fat and lazy. This is not good. It sounds like it will be nice and cool in the morning for the next few days (like lower than 80F), so that should be nice because right now it's hot as a whorehouse aroud here.

Mike is Bronze in Manchester

Whoo Hooo! One of our club riders, Mike Lew, got 3rd in the Points Race at the World Masters Track Championships in Manchester, England. Now, knowing Mike, I figure he's probably a little disappointed (he really wants one of those jerseys), but for mere mortals like me, it's pretty impressive. Mike has been training all year for this and a lot of club members, including the club itself, chipped in to help him cover the cost of making the race. Mike is an intensive care nurse, so training and racing takes a pretty big chunk out of the checkbook for him. Back on the home front, things have pretty much returned to normal around here, although not too many businesses were open today. I went out around the middle of the day today, after taking down the window protection at home, moving all the plants and outside stuff back outside at The Mom's place, etc., and did 25 miles or so fairly easy on the levee. Most of the other roads around here are still littered with small broken branches and stuff, so it's a little sketchy. Rode with The Wife, who, BTW, badly needs new road shoes, and ran into Courtney E. and Linda along the way. Linda apparently did 45 mi. hard yesterday and her quads were pretty much toast, so she was trying to get in some easy spinning to recover. She's been reading Joe Friel's "The Cyclist's Training Bible" on my recommendation, since she is pretty new to racing (she teaches Spinning or Aerobics or something like that with Courtney at Elmwood Fitness Center). This one has a lot of natural talent and if she gets into a half-way decent training program over the winter she could be winning races next summer. I think tomorrow will be my first really decent training day all week. The weather is looking pretty nice, and besides we're still on "Hurrication."

All's Well in the Crescent City

Looks like those hurricane models are getting better, as Ivan ended up pretty much where they said it would a couple of days ago. Of course, everyone who stayed in New Orleans now gets a free one-day pass to walk around smugly saying "I knew it wouldn't come here." Not that they actually did, you understand. We ended up with practically no rain. It's bone-dry out there right now, and I can see virtually no damage. I've seen worse after any number of summer thunderstorms. So I'm hoping to get out on the bike later today once I've put everything back where it belongs. I'm certainly glad I'm not facing an 8-hour drive back to town in heavy traffic!

9:00 p.m. Hurricane Update

Well, it looks like we're not going to get much of a hit around here in NOLa. We have just started getting a little light rain in the last half hour, and the wind is still quite strong, but nothing remotely like what they're getting around Mobile and along the coast East of there. The center of the storm is still well offshore and won't really hit for another three to five hours. Obviously, we still have power here, although there have been a few isloated outages around town. I think it is possible that I'll be able to do a training ride some time tomorrow, especially since Tulane has officially given up hope that they can resume normal operations by then. I don't know what they were thinking earlier when they said they expected everyone to be back at work on Friday. I mean, most of the students and residents of the city left town, and there's no way they were going to be able to get back in time.

5 pm Hurricane Update

Boredom is really starting to set in! The winds are picking up. From my vantage point here 6 stories up on the edge of Audubon Park, I have noticed that all traffic on the river has stopped. We still have not seen a drop of rain. I just got back from the roof of the building (12th floor, I think), where I was helping take down some metal roofing that had been rigged up to protect the glass wall and sliding windows of the rooftop party room. One part didn't really fit well and the wind had started to rip it down, so we cut it off and stowed it so it wouldn't end up flying around where it could do some real damage. It was pretty windy up there, especially holding a 10x3 sheet of metal roofing!

The water in the Lake is already coming over the seawall (which happens pretty much every time there's a strong North wind), and so the press is having a field day with that, but the average water level in the lake is still below the top of the seawall in most places. It's just the waves that are washing over and flooding the area between the lake and the levee.

My brother called from Orlando to say that the national news was talking about having 14 feet of water in the city. I think they got that from "The Mayor's" latest press conference. The Mayor has been consistently (and wisely) exaggerating the threat in order to frighten people enough to keep them from doing something stupid. Unfortunately, the press doesn't seem to get it. The storm track virtually ensures that the eye of the storm will be at least 100 miles East of us, so we're likely to get sustained winds of maybe 40-50 mph. So far, I've had three Cokes, about a pound of potato chips, a chicken sandwich and a bowl of leftover salad. Help! I'm trapped inside with a full refrigerator!

When and if our power goes out, I won't be able to make any more posts, since I'm using The Mom's desktop computer.

Calm Before the Storm

Uptown New Orleans looks like a ghost town. I went out for a quick 15 mi. early this morning, and although it was a little breezy, the really noticeable thing is how empty the streets are. I saw only one other bike on the levee bike path, and hardly anything else except the occasional police car. The Mayor successfully convinced most of the city to evacuate, so it's really quiet around here. Just got back from a 3 mi walk around Audubon Park and there were a few of the usual suspects out there running. It was really quite nice, and I'm glad I wasn't spending that time stuck in some massive evacuation traffic jam on the interstate. It is looking more and more like we will just get some tropical storm level winds from the hurricane. Not that that's a good thing, and it is still likely we will lose power and perhaps get a lot of rain, but I can deal with that. They have imposed a 2 p.m. curfew today, so I'll have to make a last-minute dash from The Mom's condo, where we're staying, to my house to put the dog in the basement, and then nothing much to do but sit around and eat junk and watch television. I was hoping that I wouldn't have to put the dog inside until much later, since he's old and will definately make a mess that will have the basement stinking for a while. The thing about the curfew is really that they want to prevent anyone from looting all of the empty houses now that they've convinced everyone to leave town. I have a pretty good tolerance for eating junk and watching television, but this may be too much. I am already wondering if I will get to ride some time tomorrow. I don't thing the hurricane is supposed to make landfall until early tomorrow. I haven't been able to get a dial-up connection to Tulane since early yesterday, so I don't know what's going on with that, but The Mom has an AOL account that I'm using, so that works out.

School's Out!

Date: Tue, 14 Sep 2004 12:21:20 -0500
Reply-To: Scott Cowen sc@tulane.edu
Sender: All Tulane Uptown Campus Staff
From: Scott Cowen sc@tulane.edu
Subject: Closing Immediately

Based on updated information from city and state officials, we are closing the university, with the exception of essential personnel, effective immediately. We do plan to re-open for normal business hours on Friday and hold classes on Saturday.
Please prepare your offices appropriately before you leave and continue to monitor http://emergency.tulane.edu and the Tulane Alert Line (862-8080 and 1-877-862-8080)
Be safe.
Scott Cowen.

Ride, Work, Evacuate??

They showed up. Not as many as usual, of course, but I guess about 10 of us were there in the morning darkness. Todd wanted to call his wife because she told him he was crazy and nobody would be out there. We did an abbreviated ride - about 25 miles instead of the usual 42 - as everybody was a little preoccupied with the approaching hurricane. I drove "The Mom" to the airport this morning in rather heavy traffic. I took the back way instead of the interstate, and it took about twice as long as usual. When we arrived at the airport terminal, I was surprised to find a line of people with luggage stretching out the door and half-way down the ramp waiting to get to the SouthWest ticket counters. There was even a police car blocking the lane so that the passengers wouldn't get hit. I reluctantly deposited The Mom at the end of the line. It will no doubt be a long day for her. On the way back, I hit the interstate since I was going directly to the office downtown. All the way from the airport into town the interstate was bumper-to-bumper and barely moving at all. We've stashed the old Volvo in the Tulane parking garage for the duration and will be using The Mom's Saturn until this thing blows over. We will have to make a decision tonight after we deal with the dogs and cat and stow all the lawn furniture and plants at The Mom's condo.

Hurricane Ride Tomorrow?

Well, the city is now on full-on hurricane alert. The mayor called for voluntary evacuation this evening, and Tulane has cancelled classes until Friday and will close the dorms Wednesday morning (although we have to report to work tomorrow). I'm guessing there won't be a whole lot of non-essential personnel around, however. "The Mom" is catching a plane to Chicago tomorrow morning, so we'll be driving her out to the airport at 9 a.m., which will probably take us an hour or two if traffic is all backed up with people leaving town. We'll be taking care of "The Dog." It will be interesting. I went out around 7 p.m. to put gas in the car, but the lines were about two blocks long so I bailed. If we have to evac, we'll put our car in Tulane garage for the duration and head out in "The Mom's" relatively new Saturn. Hopefully, it won't come to that, but nobody seems to have much confidence in the projected path until some time tomrrow afternoon when it's supposed to make a turn to the North. If that happens as expected, it'll be good for us, and if it doesn't it'll be practically too late to get out. I wonder how many people are going to show up for the levee training ride tomorrow morning at 6:15?

Are we having fun yet??

Leg Pain and a Hurricane

The ol' legs were a little stiff this morning. Six of us did a nice 70-mi. ride yesterday in what we optimistically refer to as the "low rolling hills" North of Lake Pontchartrain. We started from Abita Springs and rode up to the old town of Enon, did a loop North of there, stopped at the Enon store for a cold drink, and headed back. It was mostly just a moderate pace, but with the prior day's Giro still in my legs and a few sprints for town signs and that sort of thing, and then a fairly fast few miles on the way back, I wasn't feeling real fresh by the end. The computer showed an average speed of 20.2 mph - pretty typical for these rides. We missed all of the rain that fell on the South Shore that morning and had really nice weather, and got flipped off by only two rednecks all day, although by the time we got back to the car (which had been baking in the sun the whole time, of course) it was pretty hot. It was a nice group of Woody, Eddie D., Jay, Gina, Kenny and me. Stopped for some shrimp po-boys on the drive back.

No, not that kind of Hurricane! (Although one or two Hurricanes from Pat O'Brien's might help out with the sore legs thing. For that matter, they might help out with the whole hurricane thing too. I'll have to look into that . . .)

Hurricane Ivan is looking rather worse for us today. They keep moving the projected path to the West, and now New Orleans is well within the probable hit zone. If this thing remains a Category 4 or 5 the city and the school will have to make some hard decisions within the next 24 hours if they anticipate needing to evacuate the city. Not looking forward to this at all. Also The Wife has a meeting in SanDestin that starts on Friday that she organizes for the LPMA, and they won't be able to officially cancel unless and until a hurricane warning is issued there. If we get a category 5 hitting the city, you can pretty much assume my house will lose most of its roof and the aluminum siding that was put over the original weatherboards around 30 years go. Plus, we will have to deal with my mother, her dog, our geriatric dog, and a cat. We're keeping our fingers crossed, but I have a bad feeling about this one. I'm not quite ready to run out and start buying batteries and stuff. If it ends up coming ashore in Mississippi or Alabama, we should be OK since we'll be on the good side of the circulation and won't have any big flooding problems. If they end up being way, way off and it heads farther West, leaving Destin in the clear, maybe we'll be able to evacuate to a free room at the Hilton in SanDestin!! There's always hope!

A Few Extra Miles

I should have known there would be trouble today. The alarm clock long silenced, I awoke late with less than half an hour to get out the house and ride the 7 miles out to the Lakefront for this morning's Giro ride. I grabbed a Powerbar, put a few pounds in the slowly leaking rear tire I've been nursing the last couple of weeks, and time-trialed down Carrollton Avenue through the red lights and past the park, hitting the Lakefront at precisely the moment the group came over the Bayou St. John bridge. As usual, the group spun along the lakefront easily as other riders joined in and we climbed the bridge over the Industrial Canal. As we came over the top, there was a patch of broken glass that I had no chance to avoid. I reached down to wipe my tires with my gloved hand, but before I could I heard the hiss-hiss-hiss of air escaping. I made it to the bottom before the rim started to hit the ground and pulled over to fix it. The group, not yet in hammer mode, stopped to wait as I changed the tube and tried out my new Silca mini pump (worked great). Not wanting to make anyone wait any longer than necessary, I only put about 60 psi in the tire, stuffed the punctured tube in my pocket, and we were back on the road within four or five minutes.

As the pace picked up, I found that I was feeling kind of sluggish. Maybe it was the low tire pressure, or the low-carb dinner last night. Who knows? The pace stayed pretty fast all the way out and most of the way back, and I was a little surprised to find Gina consistently at the front taking 28 mph pulls (she must not be studying all the time!). I got in a good workout for sure, but wasn't very aggressive and kept getting stuck behind gaps every time there was a sprint , which is a pretty typical fate for those who think they can suck wheels all the way to the finish, so no surprises there! Max speed today was 38 mph, but that was probably when I was chasing someone on the downhill side of the bridge.

After a sprint up the Casino bridge we returned to Lakeshore Drive, and rather than heading straight home, I went with a few other riders who were heading downtown to catch the ferry across the river. They live on the west bank, and had decided to ride out to the Giro today. After they turned off at Jackson St., we continued uptown down Tchoupitoulas, deposited Kenny and Gina on Louisiana, and I parted company at Broadway, leaving Charlie and Tim with another 10 miles or so to ride out to Kenner where they live.

Tomorrow I've organized a little group training ride across the Lake, and I'm hoping I've recovered enough from today's 60 or 70 miles to enjoy it. It's been quite a while since I've ridden there and it will be nice to be out in the country where there's a little terrain.

GiVo, Websites and Rats

I was surprised to hear a familiar voice call my name from atop the levee the other morning as I came up the ramp to the usual morning meeting spot. It was Gina (aka GiVo) and Kenny out for the early training ride. Gina has been mostly in Arizona at Med School for most of the last two years, but is doing a pediatrics rotation here in town for a while, which must be nice for Kenny who has been driving all over the country trying to keep up with her! We had an easy ride and everyone stayed in a double paceline so it was nice to be able to talk and catch up on things with this rather unique person. It is amazing to me how she is able to balance riding and medical school and still always seems to be in such a good mood. She's one of those rare people who really got under my skin. Hopefully we'll all be able to get together for dinner while she's here.

Meanwhile, I finally got the permit for Rocktoberfest done and set up the website and online registration, so assuming that Robin doesn't run into any unexpected problems with our good buddies at the Levee Board, and I don't forget to order numbers and pins, we should be OK for the Oct. 10 race that our club promotes. It's a fun, low-key end-of-season race along the New Orleans lakefront that has gotten to be a real tradition around here. After October, we'll probably start up our traditional Northshore training rides on Sundays and drop back into "base training" mode with more long, slow, distance rides out in the country.

Well, I finally had to resort to chemical warfare with the rapidly proliferating rat population that has sprung up around my house. I think they have been living quite well the last few months, eating the dog's food and burrowing under the concrete stairs and sidewalks. Sadly, they are gone now, except for the stench in my basement that is no doubt the result of one of them who died somewhere down there and who I cannot seem to locate. Oh well, life in the big city!

Cooler weather this morning for the long Thursday ride. Very nice, and it looks like we'll have cool mornings for a few more days. Most of the group this morning wanted to do a nice even paceline, but we had a few new riders show up and Robin spend about 20 miles teaching "Paceline 101" to the guys who were surging three mph every time they'd get to the front.

Holiday Riding and Eating

Monday being a holiday (Labor Day), there was a small group ride on the levee in the morning, meeting a bit later than we would for a work day, and riding the entire bike path. As usual, the only way to find out about this particular ride was to be around at the end of Sunday's Giro ride, so I'm sure only a few people knew about it. After last weekend's two rather fast Giro rides, I was ready for an easy ride, and things started out that way, which was nice. Eventually, though, the pace got up pretty fast and things kind of came apart on the way back, due in no small part to the unusually strong wind. As the four or five survivors and I were about to finish, I spotted The Wife heading out on her mountain bike, so after we cooled down, I turned around and rode back out to meet her so we could ride back together. By the time we got home I was pretty hungry, even though, with the Orlando Krewe in town we have been eating and drinking practically nonstop for two days.

Meanwhile, the real(tm) bike racers were up in Atlanta for the World Children's Center U.S. 100 K, where Eric Murphy finished with George Hincapie, taking 2nd place in a very prestigious race. Local rider Kenny Bellau hung in to finish in 41st in a race that probably left half the starting field sitting on the roadside before the end.

We got back on track training-wise on Tuesday morning - kind of - for the usual early morning long ride. As I expected, there were a few no-shows who were taking a break after Monday's ride, but we had a group of around 10 or 12 anyway. All the way out we were doing a smooth easy paceline in the 20-23 mph neighborhood, which felt pretty good, but a couple of miles after the turnaround the speeds started to creep upward. Actually, it was more of a jump than a creep. Then Todd hit the front on his TT bike with me on his wheel and next thing I know he's towing us down the road at a steady 28 mph for at least a few miles. Somewhere along the way my switch got flipped from "training ride" to "race simulation" and when he finally pulled off I kept up the pace (albeit briefly) and pulled off myself. Soon there were only four or five guys pulling and the pack, predictably, split, and we continued this insane paceline all the way back. I think it was just Todd, Carey, Luke and me by the time we eased up at Jefferson Playground.

Even with the three good training rides over the long weekend, I think I still managed to eat more than I burned, though. We hit Domilise's for Po-boys, Acme Oyster House for more Po-boys (I had a catfish po-boy), Maple St. Cafe, delivery pizzas, etc. Luckily, I missed a couple of trips to Cafe du Monde for beniets, and I even opted out of a couple of trips to the snoball stand. This was all on top of the massive ad-libitum food cache at The Mom's "country club" that included such irresistible things as goldfish crackers and ice cream bars. I think we and the Krewe went through about a hundred soft drinks, known in other less civilized parts of the country as "pop" or "soda" (don't use those terms in New Orleans or you'll be immediately branded a tourist).

When I got to the office this morning, intent on untangling a screwed-up proposal that someone else submitted (that I told them we would get back from the funding agency for revisions), the temperature on our floor was probably 85 and in my office more like 90. No tie today! Also, no call-back from the people I need to speak with to straighten out this grant proposal mess.

Hurricane Refugees

The Orlando Krewe has arrived, and looks like a good thing too. This slow hurricane is just sitting over central Florida, and it would be no fun to be stuck in a house with no power for the next week. Everybody's over at The Mom's condo, or as we call it "the country club." This sort of impromptu family reunion usually involves a lot of communal stuffing of faces, and this one is no exception. Unfortunatey, the building's air conditioning is on temporary life support after some sort of major rodent-caused power problem knocked out the electricity and subsequently damaged the building's a/c water pump. No repair possible until Tuesday, but there is still some minimal cooling, so it's not really too bad. The weather here is great - clear blue skies and a brisk northeast wind, but it's fairly warm with temperatures around 90F. Now there's another hurricane in the Atlantic making a bee-line for the Gulf of Mexico, so it looks like the suspense will continue.

Meanwhile up in corn country, The Daughter is escorting around one of her club teammates from New Orleans who is up at U. Iowa on a recruiting trip. She must be busy because communications have been sparse. I don't think she's gotten the house router working again, so she's probably still working with intermitent connections available from the neighboring houses. Since they're practically all rental properties occupied by students, there is no shortage of wireless connectivity in the neighborhood.

It's been a routine training weekend. Yesterday's Giro ride started out unusually easy, but ended up unusually fast. Aided by a bit of a tailwind, I had a max of 38 mph on the computer after the Chef Highway sprint. On the way back the group was going about 30 when somebody rolled over what he thought was a little stick. It was actually a piece of steel rebar that shot up and sliced Jay's leg just below the knee. He finished the ride, but went to the ER afterward and had to get it stitched up. He was out there on the ride again this morning, though. Today's ride was pretty brisk too. There was this triathlete in the group and he was blissfully unaware of the usual spots where the group slows down to recover and give the stragglers a chance to catch. He also kept riding off the front to show us all how fast he was. The group would let him get 15 seconds or so and then the pace would ramp up to 30+ until he was caught. On the last stretch along Hayne Blvd. today (with a nice tailwind) he did it again. I saw Brandon react right away and so I bridged up to them and before I knew it we were going 28. The tri guy started to fade and so we ramped it up a bit and were holding 31 mph for quite a while as the pack tried to catch. Hitting the bottom of the first bridge at 31, I hammered over the top only to have Brett come around me on the downhill. I latched onto his wheel as Charlie joined us and we were in breakaway mode all the way to the next bridge at 31 mph. Nice ride! I was feeling pretty good, but was glad to have a nice tailwind on my ride home! So, I guess it'll be around 130 mi. this weekend with a few hard sprints and a fair amount of high-intensity riding. Tomorrow there will be a "holiday" training ride on the levee in the morning, and I guess I'll probably make that one too.

Spin 'n Grin

Friday is the levee ride group's "Spin 'n Grin" day. There are usually only six or seven riders on Fridays, and we usually ride about 25 miles in more or less of a double paceline at an easy pace ranging from 17 to 22 mph. We usually get some of the riders who tend to skip the harder rides on Tuesday and Thursday. That includes a couple of the women who don't race very often, and often Joe and Bob. Joe is around my father's age and is one of those guys who started in athletics in high school and just never quit. Bob was one of the club's original members. He took that old club photo from 1972. (Can you guess which one is me?) He was the USCF state representative when I got my first racing license back around 1972. In fact, I still have that license somewhere. I remember he filled it in on a typewriter (remember those?) during a club meeting and signed it at the bottom. Back then, I had a 3-digit USCF number - I think it was 0402, in fact. For some reason it got changed back when the USCF brought in NORBA.

This morning's training ride talk kept coming back to hurricaine Francis, which is about to plow into Eastern Florida. A few people had been planning to go to the Destin area over the long Labor day weekend, but most of them have cancelled their plans and will be staying home. My brother and his family live in Orlando, and they are all heading our way for a little visit until this thing blows over. A few weeks ago they were without power for the better part of a week because of another hurricaine, and they're not too keen on doing that twice in the same month. So far, we've had normal summer weather around here, although it sounds like we may get a little bit of a cool front coming through which will protect us from Francis, and give us a day or so of dryer air.

Well, as I predicted, my mileage is down a bit this week and I'm already feeling kind of fat and sluggish. Damn, I wish I had those neuroendocrine hormones I had when I was 20! Things are pretty quiet here racing-wise.

I still need to get that blasted race permit form for Rocktoberfest off to the USCF and update the website. Talked with Robin a bit this morning - he's in the process of getting final approval for the course. The idiots at the Levee Board, the political entity that controls that road, always tell us we can close off only one side of the road, and then the police always insist on closing both sides. This has been going on for years, and not just for our events, but for numerous other footraces, triathlons, etc. Go figure. I guess that's what you get when you create a board composed entirely of political appointees. There is an interesting race in East Texas coming up, and I just got a flyer for a Time Trial in Cuba, Alabama (Cuba??) with a big prizelist and a bonus for anyone going under an hour on the hilly 26 mile course. And then, of course, there's always Six Gap, which I've never done, but always wish I had. That "ride" has a 1,500 field limit and over 10,000 vertical feet of climbing. Of course for the faster group it turns into a race. Some of our local guys finished up in the top 10 a few years ago, proving my theory that you don't have to live in the mountains to be a good climber.

Full Circle

In the beginning, there was the Silca frame pump. It came in one size, had intricate decoration on its plastic handle, and was held in place with a fancy Campagnolo "umbrella clip." The elite riders would opt for the more expensive steel pump head with the little blue rubber feet on it to protect the frame. They worked pretty well. Then they came out with the frame-fit versions. These were sleaker, less decorated, and had to be ordered in just the right size to fit your frame. The steel pump heads became rare. I used these for ages. My old Cinelli came with a shiny silver imitation chrome one.

Then I got a new bike. A steel Cervelo with a water bottle cage on the seat tube. Where to put the pump now? I tried a few things, but finally had to give in and get one of the mini-pumps with little plastic clips that were held on by the water bottle cage itself. How ironic. The very thing that caused the problem in the first place! This arrangement was a bit of a problem. For one thing, it just wasn't cool to be racing with those plastic pump clips in there, so before every race, I would remove them. Naturally, I eventually stripped out one of the aluminum water bottle bolts. Then, the pump's locking mechanism broke so that it would expand at will during rides. So for a while I strapped it to my spare tire bag or stuck it in my pocket with a rubber band around it to keep it together.

The other day I got a new mini-pump. This one is even more mini than the old one. It fits inside the Pearlizumi bag strapped to my saddle. Guess what? It's a Silca.

Somehow, I have always resisted the CO2 cartridge inflators. It just seems like such a waste. The cartridges are about $1 each, and when you're done, you have this empty cartridge that just goes in the trash. So I've stuck to arm-power for flat-fixing, although I must admit that if I'm with a group when I flat, I look around for someone who has a full-size frame pump before I pull out the mini. I haven't had to try the Silca yet, but I'll bet it will take a couple hundred strokes to get a tire up to a reasonable pressure, which in my case is around 60 psi. These pumps are convenient, but they're really just enough to get you home.