Designated Driver

It was 10:30 pm last night when I remembered I'd had a flat that morning. So I trudged down to the basement to fix the tire. Of course, once I took a good look at the bike I realized that the chain was a gunky mess, there was crud all over the jockey wheels, and the chainrings were a real mess. Now you have to understand that the chain didn't really need to be cleaned. It needed to be tossed into the garbage can and replaced. Being the middle of the night, though, I took it off and dropped it into a pan of mineral spirits and spent the next hour cleaning the whole nasty drivetrain.

So finally I put it all back together and get around to the reason I'd gone down the stairs in the first place, which was to fix the flat tire. I find the tiny shard of glass that had caused the slow leak, pry it out of the tread, replace the tube and proceed to pump the tire up to 120 psi. Then I decide it's time to clean up the rim and spokes that are full of dirt and crud from the road. I'm leaning over the wheel with my head about three inches from the tire when the damned thing explodes right into my ear! I was lucky I didn't blow out an eardrum! Anyway, once the ringing in my ears stopped I finally got it all fixed up and ready for the Friday morning ride.

There were just a couple of us up on the levee this morning, although we did pass a few of the guys who were going the other way on their TT bikes. When I got home I had to rush a bit because I had to drive The Wife to a retina specialist out at East Jefferson Hospital. When I got there and learned it would take at least two hours, I promptly abandoned The Wife and headed over to CC's Coffee where I could get a free internet connection for my Palm Pilot. I hung out there until after 11:00, awkwardly handling my email, before I finally returned to the eye doctor's office so I could drive her and her dilated pupils back to the office. An hour later The Wife finally emerged with news that the retina is basically fine, so the mystery remains. By the time we stopped for lunch and got to the office it was around 2 pm. I may as well have just gone home, because on a Friday afternoon ahead of a long weekend, the university tends to have a remarkable similarity to a mausoleum. Little was accomplished. I finally got home around 6 pm and promptly got into the leftover chicken and andouille gumbo and a bottle of Kilikanoon Shiraz. I needed it, too, after getting a form letter from Allstate saying that they were going to increase the special "hurricane deductible" from the current $500 to *** 5% of the total policy!! Man, one bad hurricane in 30 years and they take the opportunity to screw you big time, even for those of us with minimal damage who have been faithfully paying their premiums since the Nixon administration without a single claim until Katrina.

Another Year

Year three of the post-Katrina era started with a cool northwest breeze and clear skies. Up in Iowa, The Daughter's birthday marked for her another year as well. I was already running a few minutes late this morning when I grabbed the bike off its hook in the basement and dropped it onto the floor. The springy bounce as it hit the concrete told me I had a problem, and a quick thumb check confirmed that the rear tire was down to, optimistically, 20 psi. Since there was no way I was going to get to the levee on time if I stopped to fix it, I grabbed the nearby floor pump and pumped it back up to 120, hoping that the leak was a slow one.

Today's ride was fairly routine with the speeds staying mostly within the realm of reasonability. For some reason the group split up a bit both coming and going, but for the most part things were normal. I had skipped yesterday altogether and was expecting my legs to feel refreshed today, and so I was rather disappointed that they felt, well, terrible. I really don't know quite what to make of that. The big red three-inch diameter lump near my right ankle from Tuesday's bee sting was itching, but I doubt it was responsible for the sluggish legs. Despite our moderate pace, we got back to the start a bit before 8 am because we got rolling right away after the turnaround. All the way back I could tell my rear tire was getting softer and softer, and by the time I rolled it back into the house I could push the tire all the way down to the rim with my thumb. Not really a big surprise, I guess. The real question is whether or not I'll remember to fix it tonight, because you know it'll be totally flat by then and you also know I'll be running late.

So today I met with someone from City Park to scout out the course we want to use for Rocktoberfest in mid-October. Then I filled out the USAC event permit to make sure I got it in before the late fees started to kick in, even though all of the arrangements are not quite chiseled in stone yet. Hopefully everything will work out as expected. I remember long ago when we would make a single phone call to someone in the City Park police department, tell him when we were planning to have races, and he'd just say "OK." Things were so simple back then. Now, it seems to take an act of Congress to put on a bike race on public property, and the four-digit cost is about the same whether you're expecting 70 of the local riders or 400 people from all over the country. Anyway, it's a nice course for this fun event, and I don't expect we'll have any big problems.

Thanks, Kenny

Two years later...

http://www.bymnews.com/katrina/html/rescue_boat.html

Moving Forward

Yesterday I got a reply from Wayne Stetina. I had asked him to clear up a little mystery that's been in the back of my mind for, oh, 27 years or so. Sure enough, he remembered the race and the bike exchange with his brother. I think perhaps we all remember the details of every race we've ever ridden. Well, at least the ones where we finished well. Here's what he had to say:

That was me. Fortunately the fork steerer was cracked nearly 80%, causing the steering to stick so badly I could hardly turn. Good thing I didn’t make one more pass down the hill… With my brother Joel’s strange bike that wouldn't even engage the 13 top gear, & a 1cm higher seat position I had to get a 5 mm allen key handed up after a few laps to lower, I finally wound up getting cramps the last few laps, & Dale had to talk me out of quitting. But considering the circumstances, I was more than pleased to come away from Bisbee 2nd behind Dale.

Wayne is still racing, by the way, in the same masters age group as I, and he's still faster. In fact, he added another stars and stripes jersey to his collection this year. It's kind of cruel twist of fate that the guys who were clobbering you when you were 21 always seem to stick with racing so they can continue to clobber you for another thirty or forty years.

This morning's long levee ride got a little disjointed, it seems, even though it really never got really blazing fast. With last Tuesday's memory still fresh, everybody was being particularly cautious around the pedestrians - perhaps a bit too cautious. A couple of times the whole group practically came to a stop. I'm not quite sure if that's a good thing or not, because when it happens the back of the group just naturally tends to mushroom out, which makes the oncoming rider/runner slow down even more, and it's surely confusing for whichever pedestrian behind whom we bunch up. It would perhaps be better if we could slow down more gradually and still continue moving forward, but like I've said before, it's a tough call sometimes, and you never know if the back of the group will get the memo from the front of the group. Just before the turnaround today Howard flatted, and when I finally made my U-turn I was surprised to find how much smaller the group had become. I guess a lot of people turned around early, and perhaps a few stayed with the rider who had flatted early in the ride and told us to go on without him. A lot of riders are already spending a lot of time on their TT bikes because of the upcoming LAMBRA championships.

At least it was substantially cooler today. I'm sure it was below 80F when the ride started, and although we had a little bit of sunshine, by 11 am the sky was overcast and there was rain on the horizon. As I rode home down Short Street I stopped at the house on the corner with Willow that had been knocked off its piers by last year's tornado. Over the last week or so they have basically dug their way underneath it, inserted long steel I-beams and hydraulic jacks, and lifted and levelled the whole house about three feet off the ground. I'm impressed. You can still see their Christmas decorations around the front door. Anyway, I'm glad to see that work moving forward, and equally glad that they were able do avoid demolition.

Tomorrow it will have been two years since Katrina. The politicians are falling all over themselves trying to get their faces on TV. The mayor, who actually believes that it was God's plan for him to rebuild the "chocolate city" is no exception. Personally, I'm about done with the looking back part of all this and wish there was more focus on moving forward (and less on moving out). Well, except for the homeless people who have all seemed to find their way back to the city and who the city seems perfectly content to have living on the front lawn of City Hall.

Memory Lane

Sunday's Giro Ride was small and mellow this week. There was a MS Tour training ride across the lake that probably sucked away a number of riders, and some others may have been still licking their wounds from Saturday's thrashing. I hung around the parking lot afterwards chatting with Mark G., procrastinating about going home where sandpaper and paint cans awaited. On the plus side, the sky was mostly overcast, which kept the temperatures down, and by early afternoon we finally got a little bit of much-needed rain. In fact, it was actually quite pleasant outside last night, so I was a little disappointed that Monday morning's air felt just about as hot and humid as usual. There were just a few of us up on the levee today for an easy recovery ride. I could still feel some lingering soreness in my quads, but once we got going, it mostly disappeared.

When USA Cycling sent out an official reminder last week about discontinuing the late-season discount on racing licenses there was a bit of an uproar among the Local Association representatives, many of whom felt that it had been sprung on them without warning (actually, it had been mentioned very early in the season). I think it real issue was that some of the dedicated Cyclocross riders, whose seasons don't really start until September, had been getting by on half-price licenses and the promoters were worried that it might affect participation, which I doubt. Anyway, at some point Wayne Stetina sent a comment to the group and that's what started me on my little trip down memory lane.

Long, long, ago, in 1980, I went to the nationals road race, which was held that year in Bisbee, AZ. The race consisted of multiple trips up and down a mountain, basically, so the less said about my own performance the better. Anyway, it was a fun trip that five or six of the local guys and women took. I was riding the road race, three riders were doing the time trial, a couple were in the junior road race, and one person was in the women's road race. At some point shortly after I'd been dropped I came around the curve at the top of the hill and found two of the Stetina brothers (I think) exchanging bikes. It turns out that one of them had broken his fork. So I got to blast down the downhill with one of them, after which he dropped me and caught back up to the pack. I was never quite clear on which Stetina it was, so a little while ago I sent Wayne an email. I wonder what he remembers about it.

That got me thinking about that year's nationals, so I looked up the results from the 1980 road nationals. Dale and Wayne Stetina took 1st and 2nd that year. Beth Heiden, who had won Olympic bronze in speedskating, won the women's race (and she was pretty hot, too, as I recall). What was interesting, though, were some of the other names I recognized from the races. Davis Phinney was 10th that year, just ahead of his future teammate Ron Keifel. Jim Montgomery, who was actually a member of the NOBC at one point, won the "Veterans" class. Even more interesting, though, were the riders in the Junior races. Andy Hampsten was 4th in the Junior men's race and Rebecca Twigg was 2nd in the junior women's race. Just the year before, in 1979, an upstart kid from Nevada named Greg LeMond had won the Junior's race. Little did I know at the time that I was in the presence of so many Olympians and Tour de France riders! Indeed, in retrospect, it was rather a watershed year for U.S. cycling. I remember seeing John Howard there. He had basically retired from bicycle racing and was training for some odd event called the Ironman triathlon. I remember being surprised at how much thinner he looked since his bike racing days. Tempus fugit!

A Saturday in August

The Saturday Giro Ride left a bit late today and even so we had to make a couple of loops around the fountain on Lakeshore Drive to wait for a couple of the Northshore guys who had been delayed because the bridge over the 17th Street Canal was closed. When we were all back together, the group rolled the rest of the way down the lakefront and over the two bridges, finally dropping back down onto Hayne Blvd. for the long stretch out to Paris Road. For a minute or so the pace was moderate and I watched a small group roll off the front wondering why there was no response. When Rob took off to bridge up to them, I thought for sure that would do it, but for some reason it took a while longer for the group to get going. Then, suddenly, we were going 29, 30, 31 mph and you could see that the gap was closing. The group came to a traffic signal that was, of course, red. It slowed a bit, then split in two and swarmed the confused driver, passing on both sides and coalescing again back into a long single paceline. It wasn't the best move I've seen this group make. When we caught the break, the pace slackened for just a moment. The rest of the trip, all the way out to the turnaround at Venetian Isles, was rarely slower than 29. I don't think I ever made it all the way up to the front where Bain and company were just relentlessly hammering away, although I can't say that I was trying all that hard.

So after the turnaround and the usual regrouping and rehydrating I noticed Tim riding up the road. Jay started after him and I went with Jay and next thing you know it's Tim, Jay, Dave and me doing a nice little team time trial at a brisk 27 mph pace. Since we weren't really killing ourselves, I was fully expecting the pack to come roaring past before we hit the service road, but apparently the were feeling lazy after their earlier effort because they were still a long way back. So we continued on down the service road and onto Bullard with the pack still behind us somewhere. We took it fairly easy down Hayne, but when got to Lakeshore Drive and looked back the pack was nowhere to be found. Even with our late start, we were still back on Lakeshore by 9 am, though, so it was a fairly day. I waited at Elysian Fields with Tim so I could ride back through the French Quarter with the west bank guys, and when they finally showed up we learned that Mignon had hit the deck rounding the curve at Bullard. She looked like she'd taken some skin off of her elbow and knee, but apparently nothing too serious. Rob D. had done the same just a few weeks ago. Apparently there's a bump or pothole or something on the inside of the turn. So anyway, we had a nice ride down Elysian Fields to the Quarter, and then up Prytania street to the park where I split off to head back to the house. I rode through Tulane's campus along the way because it's move-in day for the freshmen and I like soaking up some of that excitement.

A few hours of bad carpentry, painting and inhaling dust and organic solvents pretty much sums up the rest of the day for me, and now, well, it's just another hot August night at home. I wonder if it's ever going to rain around here again...

Bells and Blinky Lights

With no relief from this little drought in sight, I quietly accepted the 6 a.m. darkness in exchange for what now passes as the coolest part of the day, filled my water bottles, and stepped out into the 84ºF pre-dawn 79% humidity. It was not exactly refreshing. For the first time since Spring, I also clipped on my little red blinky light. That's so depressing. I also clipped on a little bicycle bell that I've had for a while but never used, hoping to provide the group with a slightly more civilized pedestrian warning system. It actually worked fairly well for something that costs, as I recall, less than $5 and is constructed from a single piece of plastic and metal bell.

The pace this morning was moderate, and when Brady and someone else rolled off the front nobody else lifted an eyebrow. Well, actually I couldn't see their eyebrows, but they didn't lift the pace anyway. We had another little tailwind heading out again that made everyone feel like a superstar and a headwind on the way back that made everyone feel more like a whipped puppy. Neither the lady with the camera nor the police were staking out the group today, and the riders, who are usually quite good about warning the pedestrians, were just a little bit more cautious about it. At one point we came upon a 2-person situation similar to Tuesday's and I think the whole group practically came to a stop. The pedestrian, in this case, was one of the "regulars" on the levee, and when he heard us (and my bell) coming up on him he politely stepped aside onto the grass to give us a bit more room, smiling as we went by with a long string of "good mornings." Sometimes this group can be so polite it's almost embarrassing. You know, seeing as how we're all a bunch of tough weekend warriors and all.

So I think the bicycle bell will stay on the bike for a while. Maybe I'll even look for an upgrade. Meanwhile, The Wife is pretty much recovered from yesterday's poking and prodding, but is now having some vision problems that probably need some prompt attention. Getting old is not fun and just for the record, I don't recommend it.

Evening Riding

After work yesterday I hopped on the bike for a little evening ride out to City Park to check out the old Roosevelt Mall circuit. We're considering using it for our upcoming Rocktoberfest race and I needed to see how bad the road surface is nowadays. The bottom line on the road is that we can make it work as long as we keep the race in the right lane on the back side of the loop to avoid the bad centerline crack, and patch a couple of holes. For some reason, though, I thoroughly enjoyed my little ride out there amidst the Carrollton Avenue traffic. My legs felt good, the temperature didn't seem too oppressive, and it was nice riding around the old loop where, for all practical purposes, bicycle racing in New Orleans was reborn back at the beginning of the 70s. I was also glad to get in a few extra miles, because I knew my riding would be limited on Wednesday.

The Wife had an appointment this morning for some upper and lower GI endoscopy (nothing like getting it all over with at once) and apparently my presence was required. As it turned out, though, once she was admitted there was nothing I could really do, and since my office was only a block away I ended up working all morning waiting for the phone to ring. It finally did around 1:30. The Wife was not a happy camper after five hours of having her insides photographed, either. Nausea, vomiting, cramps -- the whole works. So I took her home so she could sleep until the bad stuff wore off, and made some Jello. You always have to have Jello after something like that. They even serve it to you if you're in the hospital. It's kind of the 70's version of chicken soup, I guess.

I ended up going out for an hour on the levee around 6 pm. I think the thing I enjoy about riding in the evening this time of year is that it always feels so much cooler as the sun starts to go down and I ease up for the ride home. That's one thing I always remember about the old Tuesday/Thursday races -- the ride back home from the Lakefront with tired legs, a lingering endorphin high, and a breeze that felt cool as it blew over my wet jersey. Anyway, two evening rides in a row is unusual for me, but as they say, "change is good."

Another Nail

As the scattered paceline started to reassemble itself, Howard rolled alongside and said, "Another nail in the coffin." The Tuesday levee ride had started like any other, and by the time it had reached the Country Club it was stretched out into a long string of at least 20 riders. Up ahead there had been a fat lady lumbering down the right side of the bike path and also an oncoming bike. Riders called them out as usual, but the front part of the group didn't slow down much, if at all, and slipped through the gap way too close. By the time I, and most of the group, got there the door had closed and people started yelling "slowing" and "brakes" because as the bike and walker came together there was no longer room to navigate safely around them. Well, the fat lady went ballistic and turned around and screamed something unintelligible, and probably unintelligent, at the nice riders who had slowed to nearly a stop to avoid ramming into her backside. I screamed ahead to the front part of the group that had slipped past so they'd slow down until everyone regrouped. I even rode up to the front to explain that the front riders just can't be doing that sort of thing and that they need to consider whether the whole line will be able to make it past in situations like that. Anyway, we continued on, still chasing Donald and then a small group with Eddie and Brady, but when Brady was abandoned at the dip we all came back together there, not that the pace slowed down very much. With a little tailwind I guess we were going around 27 much of the time, with occasional surges up to 30 or so.

After the turnaround, I was dripping sweat like a window unit in a cathouse, and it was a long time before the pace started to gradually pick up again. Somewhere after Williams Brady flatted, so a few of us stuck around while the rest of the pack continued on. Well, when we came around the curve at the Country Club, there was a JP police car in the middle of the path with his strobe lights flashing, and the fat lady was on the grass with a lawn chair and a camera. We smiled and said "good morning" as the officer ignored us and the fat lady took pictures. A while later we caught up with the main group that had been stopped and lectured by the police officer as the fat lady, who is apparently a Parish Juvenile Court judge, took pictures. I wonder if I'll be on her blog. So I guess we'll end up going to the mat on the bike path thing and the fat ladies and risk control people will, as usual, win because after all, why would one expect to encounter a group of bicycles while strolling on a bike path? Everyone knows bicycles only go ten miles per hour. Personally, I think that in the name of safety, pedestrians should be banned from the bike path. They can walk anywhere -- like maybe the middle of Jefferson Highway.

Moderate Monday

Just four of us up on the levee this morning, so Brady, Arlow and I took turns taking long pulls at steady speeds from 20 -23 mph. It was smooth and quiet and just a little monotonous, but kind of relaxing. Brooks showed up for a few minutes and mentioned Adam's email rant about the low velodrome turnout. I'm not sure what the solution is, but you would have thought that the Baton Rouge area alone would have come up with more than six riders. Granted, it's the middle of the summer, schools are about to start, and people have a lot of other stuff on their minds this time of year.

So Keith talked with the person at City Park about doing Rocktoberfest there. We may be able to get the old Roosevelt Mall course. Apparently they felt a little short-changed after the criterium a few weeks ago because they didn't make as much money as they had expected. I figure they made around $2,500 or so after paying the police, so you would think they'd be happy to get a nice little donation and wouldn't be looking at the race as an inconvenience. Anyway, I need to take a ride out there and see what the condition of the road is on the old Roosevelt Mall loop. It wasn't all that bad last time we had a race there, as I recall. Of course, that was ten years and on major hurricane ago.

Ride Your Bike

This weekend was another one of just riding the bike. No races just finished, no races next week, nothing close enough to even be on the radar. I wonder if perhaps I need to try and register for Six Gap just to give myself something for which to aim. On Friday Kieth sent an email out to City Park to see if we can get that venue for the Rocktoberfest race in mid-October. It would be nice. Really nice. So I went out to the Saturday Giro Ride and for some reason got kind of sucked into the ride unusually early. My legs were feeling good and it was one of those days when everything feels smooth and effortless, and closing a gap seems to require little more than a thought. It would have been a good weekend for a race. Indeed, I could have made my way up to the velodrome in Baton Rouge in the afternoon for a quick little track meet, - Rob even offered to lend me a pair of wheels - but by then the feeling had evaporated and I was out looking for oil-based paint and antique cabinet hinges. I felt bad about it later when I learned the turnout had been disappointingly low and that the Baton Rouge recreational folks, who reluctantly manage the track, are talking about bulldozing it to make another soccer field or something. On the plus side, the folks at the local Sherwin-Williams store gave me the family discount because my brother in Orlando works for them. Just for the record, you won't find much in the way of oil-based paint at the local Lowes. Also, just for the record, latex paint really sucks when it comes to things like doors and cabinets. Maybe its the humidity down here, but the stuff never seems to really dry properly and stays kind of sticky.

There was still a lot of concern about Hurricane Dean down in the Caribbean Saturday. Our wimpy mayor declared a state of emergency. Sheesh. This state is being run by someone who reminds me of my fifth grade teacher, except that my fifth grade teacher was a good deal smarter and a whole lot better looking. BTW, if you know anything about local politics and want to read something I can only describe as "tragically hilarious," you should check out the current issue of The Levee. The cover story of last month's edition (the current edition doesn't show up on the web until later) starts out with:

A joking and jovial Jesus Christ, choosing The New Orleans Levee newspaper for his first interview since the crucifixion, said it is apparent to him that Louisiana has, in less than two years, rebounded “beyond pre-Katrina levels.”“I’ve been keeping an eye on things down here, reading The Times-Picayune online, and the headlines coming out of your state show that Louisiana is back, better than ever,” Christ told The Levee after a photo opportunity beneath his portrait at Slidell City Court.

Speaking of things to read, you really should check out Jill's writeup and photos from her little solo weekend ride in Alaska and Canada. Something like 370 miles in 48 hours, solo, on a loaded bike in the middle of nowhere. Shoulds like a little bit of heaven.

It can be hard to get out on the bike this time of year, and sometimes I resort to old Eddie B's immortal quote concerning the three most important things aspiring bike racers need to do: "Ride your bike, ride your bike, ride your bike." So with temperatures still up in the stratosphere and the grass on the neutral ground slowly turning brown, I headed out the lakefront this morning for another round of the Giro. Along the way I caught up to Rob K. The Sunday ride is always kind of confusing to me, and this week's was no exception. The group, such as it was, left a bit early and was kind of mixed in with the smaller group that usually leaves earlier. A bunch of the Bicycle World guys disappeared on Lakeshore Drive to do some motorpacing, so the horsepower to wheelsucker ratio was really low today. Eventually, though, things got fast enough to salvage a pretty good workout, and we spent a long time on Chef Highway in a nice double paceline until, as usual, somebody got impatient with the pace and things devolved into a fast single paceline. So a small group of us continued to take pulls at the front in to the increasing headwind all the way out to the turnaround where I was shocked to discover that the rest of the group had dropped off and turned around early. Although there were a few good surges, for the most part the ride back today was pretty civilized.

Hurricane Dean seems to have decided to ravage the Caribbean tourism industry this year rather than visit the U.S. Gulf Coast, so the city is breathing a collective sigh of relief. Now if we could just get a little rain around here to cool things off, that would be nice.

Slight Disagreement

This summer seems to be slowly sapping away all of my energy. As I left this morning to meet the diminutive Friday ride group, I noted that my bike was filthy from the combination of sweat and multiple trips across the wet mud that the riversand folks keep creating for us up on the levee. The internal steel parts of my shifters are rusting and sticking despite frequent applications of spray lubricant, and my legs seem to be working no better than the shifters. I've needed to replace the chain for weeks, one of my cleats is getting pretty worn down, and of course the inside of my helmet smells like an old sock.



Our 4-rider group this morning did an acceptible Friday ride at the typical easy pace, fighting a moderate headwind all the way back. Locally, the interest level in Hurricane Dean is rising as the storm makes its way farther to the west. Originally, the forecasters were cautiously predicting that it would stay more or less on a westward track, ending up somewhere in Mexico or southwest Texas. But of course we all know that they all end up farther north and east than predicted, don't we? Indeed, the computer models seem to be in some "slight" disagreement this afternoon. By "slight," I mean a predicted landfall variation on the order of 700 miles. One track puts the center of the hurricane right in the middle of Louisiana, while another puts it in southern Mexico. Three out of the four models keep way down south, so hopefully the other model is missing something. Anyway, the bottom line is that we'll just have to wait and see.



Track events in Baton Rouge tomorrow night, but since I have never made it to the shop to get the glue I need to glue on new tires, I guess I'll be skipping it again. I've never had much trust in glue of any sort, and racing on tires that haven't been properly glued just isn't worth it any more. I guess deep down I'm really just a roadie anyway.

Horses and Hurricanes

I wish I could say it felt cooler this morning, but I can't. It was pretty hot and humid with a pretty good wind out of the ESE. The combination of the wind direction and the winding river kept the paceline rather confused as the crosswind kept shifting from one side to the other. All of the rain from Tropical Depression Erin seems to have missed us, unfortunately.

This morning we had a new rider on an Orbea, John, who just moved here from Baton Rouge with his brother who is starting grad school at Tulane in ChemE. The groups started off kind of fast today with Brooks and Chad leading the way. We must have arrived at the playground a bit earlier than usual because apparently Donald missed us. I remember looking over to my right down Central Avenue as we passed to see if he was there, but I must have missed him. So with Brooks and Max and Chad kind of pushing the pace with a little tailwind, we were rolling pretty fast on the way out, but the group was smallish today so mostly everyone was taking pulls of one sort or the other. I was feeling really lousy on the bike for some reason. Every time I'd take a pull my legs would load up after thirty pedal strokes and so I wasn't staying on the front very long.

So we arrive at the turnaround and start heading back and after a mile or so we see Donald hammering up the bike path toward us. I think he gave us all the finger and kept going. A little while later (we were still going pretty slowly) Jeff looked back and said that Donald was chasing behind us, so we eased up a bit more to wait for him. Shortly thereafter he came blasting past us on the left and rode off into the sunrise. We looked around at each other thinking WTF?? Oh well. Whatever. So eventually we got rolling again with Max and Ronnie taking long pulls, and the last eight or ten miles felt pretty hard to me as we rode back down the river into a headwind. When I got home I made up for my lousy ride by eating twice as much for breakfast as usual. By the time I'd checked my email and was ready to ride to work it was already hot and sunny, and I was running about half an hour late. Not that it mattered much since my entire office is out today for one reason or another. Just as well, since I needed to finish up the $3.4M Dept. of Ed. Hurricane Education Recovery Award application and give the Office of Research the OK to officially submit it.

A couple of blocks from my downtown New Orleans office I stopped at a traffic signal and noticed this guy who was carrying a flag and riding a horse down South Claiborne Avenue, with a little donkey in tow. They stopped at the light and I just had to dig out my camera for that one. What on earth was this guy, who by the way was wearing full leather chaps, doing? I suppose I was supposed to recognize the flag? I didn't.

Meanwhile, we have Hurricane Dean heading straight for the Gulf of Mexico and none of the forecasters are making any promises past three days. The computer models are all still indicating it will stay well south of the city, but seeing as how it will be in the middle of the Gulf within a week of Katrina's 2-year anniversary, it's kind of making me nervous. The predicted tracks of these things just almost always seem to show them farther south and west than they end up.

Better Air for Conditioning

Ahhh, what a relief. The heat index is only 105F this afternoon and that's kept the ambient temperature in my office greenhouse within a tolerable range for the first time in a week. In fact, the air outside even looks better, which is to say that the thick haze we've had has dissipated quite a bit which generally indicates a more reasonable dew point. Isn't it convenient living in the city where you can always get a good idea of the air quality because you can actually see it? I wonder if the compressor on my a/c got a chance to take a break this morning.


I could feel that slight difference in the air this morning during the levee training ride. It was kind of a strange one today because the group split early without me even knowing it. When we came upon one of the usual riders who was on the side of the road fixing a flat (and heading in the opposite direction), I was near the front and heard Richard ask if everything was OK. I figured it was because Richard was still with us as we got back up to speed after slowing down. A few miles later I took my pull and dropped back only to find that the back was a whole lot closer than I expected. I think about half of the group must have stopped. I looked back but couldn't see anyone so I just continued on with the group of six or seven that I was in. After the turnaround we passed the rest of the group going the other way and so we soft-pedaled for a couple of miles. Looking back, though, they were nowhere in sight. I figured they would turn around a little early and catch back up, but only one or two riders did that, so I never saw the main group again.


Anyway, we had a good Wednesday ride, even though I was a little bit distracted the whole time thinking about this grant application I had to finish today and my next "challenge" which is to find some authoritative recent demographics on the New Orleans metro area. Wish me luck! Regular census data is usually at least a year or two old by the time its published, and with the New Orleans area's demographics changing on a daily basis, such data are essentially worthless. The best I've located so far is about nine months old, which would ordinarily be considered quite acceptable, but in this case falls into the "ancient news" category.


In other city news, you probably heard about our city councilman who just admitted to taking $15k in bribes from a company that operates parking lots. His "confession" and subsequent resignation reminded me a lot of the whole pro cycling drug situation. Years ago I'm sure he would have denied it and tried to skirt the issue, but now that there has been a major effort to go after corrupt local elected officials, the only option they have is to bow their heads, admit they made a "mistake" and beg forgiveness. Sound familiar? When someone who is afraid he's going to lose a big city contract comes to meet with you about it and hands you a wad of cash, how does that become merely "accepting an inappropriate gift?" Maybe some of the pro cyclists should be taking notes. "I'm sorry, I let all of my fans down when I unfortunately accepted an inappropriate injection." As it turns out, I suspect he's made a deal with the folks in the U.S. attorney's office to cooperate in their much larger investigation that goes back quite a few years (and more than one mayor). Too bad the inhabitants of City Hall haven't managed to at least get their damned sign fixed. Looks great, doesn't it?

Yeah, it's hot here too

It's after 9 pm and the temperature outside is 87F and people are starting to wish that a tropical depression will form in the Gulf of Mexico just for the rain. The "cold" water that comes out of the faucet lately is quite warm enough to shower with. Anyway, walking out the door this morning at 6 am was like opening the door to a walk-in oven. The group on the levee was looking kind of wilted right from the start, and without a word being said a general consensus was reached. There were no big surges, everybody took his pull, and the pace stayed steady today. Not that it was an easy ride, of course, but it was definitely a notch easier than the last few Tuesdays. The worst part of riding in this weather, though, is peeling of the sweat soaked clothes afterward. Well, that and the smell of your gloves after two or three days.

I got a quick report on the Meridian races from Mark. It just made me wish I'd been there even more. The turnout was good, the races were aggressive, and in general the races sounded like fun. GW got off the front in the Masters criterium and brought it home, which was pretty impressive, and there was a break near the end of the road race that also made it to the line ahead of the substantial group. Sharon just emailed me that she put up some photos from the races, too. You can even see Eric M. winning the criterium wearing those odd socks he always wears. Looked like the rest of the break was pretty much blown apart. With three of Eric's teammates, a few Myogenesis riders, some Memphis Motor Werks guys, and a few Herring riders, it must have been a good one.

Speaking of hot, Tulane made the 25 Hottest Schools list. Specifically, it was "Hottest on the Rebound." The best, though, had to be Harvard, which was "Hottest for Rejecting You." Must have been a slow news week...

Weekend in the Broiler

Well, it was a very long and hot weekend up in Jackson. The wedding went off nicely (and quickly!) up Mississippi College chapel. After the 2 pm wedding, which was all wrapped up by about 2:30, we headed over to the train depot in downtown Jackson for a little reception. Since both the bride and groom were heavily into the whole Mississippi College thing, there was neither dancing nor alcohol at this reception, which left most of the New Orleans folks wandering aimlessly about with rather confused looks on their faces like a bunch of Cajuns at tea time. Of course the bride and groom were very happy, as was my sister who'd had the foresight to sneak in a little flask with which she'd brightened up her lemonade. So anyway, it was nice to have the whole family together for a while.

I was able to get away for some nice rides both Saturday and Sunday mornings, and despite the triple digit mid-day temperatures, I was happy to find it relatively cool and comfortable in the mornings. Both days I rode through town and up the old main highway for about ten miles where it intersects the Natchez Trace. Gary Gray had told me that the North part of the trace was nicer than the south, and he was right. Much of this section of the trace runs alongside the big reservoir, so there's a lot of nice scenery. Saturday there were quite a few cyclists on the road, although I guess I was a little earlier than most so I was usually going the opposite direction. The Natchez Trace is carefully graded, which makes for a nice smooth, if unchallenging, ride, and I was able to put in a good fifty miles each day before family obligations intervened.

We finally headed back home around noon on Sunday, of course making the obligatory stop at Middendorf's for fried catfish and a Barqs root beer. Even at 2:20 pm the place was packed.

Now I'm back in the office with a very serious backlog, an office temperature of nearly 90F (one of the building's chillers broke down this morning), and more work hitting my email about every five minutes, so the cycling related stuff is going to have to take a back seat for the rest of the day.

Old Jackson Town

I guess the fact that I had taken the day off from work must have been in the back of my mind this morning when I ignored the alarm. The next time I looked over at the clock it was already 6:30, so I knew there was no way I'd make it out to the levee by 6:40. Didn't stop me from trying, though. Knowing I'd be a few minutes behind the Friday group, I settled into a nice pace at a reasonable 21 mph. I was actually surprised that I was only about five minutes late for the start. Somewhere out near Williams Blvd. I caught a glimpse of the group about a minute up the road, so I knew they weren't going all that fast. I rode back with the group, but only after hearing "you were late two times this week. One more time and we'll need a note from your parents." The big news of the day? They guy with the running shoes showed up with a pair of Sidi shoes and new pedals. That's progress!

So we drove up to old Jackson, Mississippi this afternoon with my father and stepmother. We're staying at the old Edison Walthall hotel, which is right on the old Tour le Fleur criterium course. The crit course was always one of my favorites. I'm not so sure about the hotel, though. The air conditioning in the old part of the hotel was not working, and it was musty, moldy and hot in there. Of course everyone was booked into the newer section, where the airconditioning was doing its best to overcome the triple-digit outside afternoon temperature. So we headed out to the Macaroni Grill for an early dinner and polished off one of those big bottles of "proprietary" house Chianti.

I'll try and slip out early tomorrow for a couple of hours on the road before returning in time for the 2 pm wedding out at Mississippi College with a reception at the old train depot here in town. I think I'll head north on State St. and head for the Natchez Trace where it starts up again.

Another Blog Post

It was 83F when I awoke in the dark, at least half an hour before sunrise (right now it's 95 with a heat index of 109). I usually allow myself about ten minutes to get out the door and another ten or fifteen to get out to the levee. This morning I thought everything was on schedule until I glanced down at my watch, once there was enough light to read it. I was still about a mile from the levee and it was already 6:15. How the *&^% did that happen?? I think I must have read my watch wrong at some point and thought I had more time than I did. Luckily, the group started a few minutes late, so I didn't have to start my morning with a time trial.

The long ride today was really quite smooth and steady all the way out to the turnaround and most of the way back. Eventually, though, Mark and Matt and Brett started pushing the pace and in the midst of one of Mark's 29 mph pulls things came apart. I ended up off the front in a 4-man group that was going pretty hard, although I was mostly just trying to keep from being dropped. When we caught up with Chad and Rob, who had left earlier than the group and were riding a bit slower, it looked like we just blew right past them, so I was surprised a minute later when they turned up in our group. I should have known that Rob couldn't, wouldn't have Matt and Brett blow past him like that. Naturally, when we got close to the playground and I pulled off the front, someone surged, someone else counter-surged, and I sat up and shifted to the small ring for the ride home. Anyway, it was good training.

I read yesterday that Axel Merckx is retiring from racing. That one really hit me hard. It's not that I don't think he deserves to retire. I mean he's been one of the classiest, most solid and most courageous road riders I've ever seen, and his accomplishments have put him in the top tier of the cycling elite. The thing that really got to me, though, was that Axel is the son of the legendary Eddy Merckx, about whom I'm sure everyone knows. So why is his retirement such a problem for me? Well, you see, when I started racing Eddy was still winning the Tour de France. Now his son, who was born the year I started racing, is retiring. Whoa! I hate it when reality whacks me in the face like that.

So this is officially my 900^th blog post. I had never actually looked to see how many times I'd posted to the blog until Jill, up in Alaska, noted her 500^th post the other day. I could do the math and estimate how much time I've wasted doing this over the past three years, but I don't think I really want to know.

Ain't no Cure ...

for the Summertime Blues.

The old fun meter's needle has been spending a lot of time on zero lately, and combined with this thick summer heat and an upcoming missed racing opportunity, it's starting to get me down. This weekend I'll be up in Jackson, MS for my niece's wedding, which is all nice and everything, but the whole time I'm there I'll know that there are two races going on just an hour east on I-20. I had been harboring some slim hope that I could work out some way to get to one or the other of the races, but today I had to admit defeat. Oh well, it was a thought... Perhaps I'll be able to sneak out for a few hours Saturday morning.

So it was a very small group this morning up on the levee. The change in sunrise is becoming more and more apparent lately and as usual so it my reluctance to get out of bed in the dark. Anyway, we had a nice steady ride this morning with everyone taking long pulls at moderate speeds. Those are the kinds of rides that make my mind wander. They also tend to make my crotch hurt from sitting on the saddle so much. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that there's a connection between my crotch and my mind. It's certainly been suggested before, albeit under different circumstances.

This morning I saw a copy of a presentation by the City's "Office of Recovery Management" on the recovery plan. I was a little disappointed to find, on the very first page, that they had gotten the spelling of both Carrollton Avenue and Oretha Haley Blvd. wrong (in more than one place) - a general from the Battle of New Orleans and a famous local civil rights activist. Maybe there should have been a special section on "education" in that presentation. I guess that's what you get when you bring in someone from California who, as far as I can tell, doesn't even unpack his bags when he's in town. At least the guy does ride a bike occasionally.

High Pressure

This huge high pressure area that's been hanging over the city for the last few days has really been keeping the temperatures up. When we started out for the morning's training ride with only a handful of riders I thought that perhaps the combination of the heat and late sunrise might be starting to get to people, but by the time the pace got going it looked like we had somehow acquired the usual number of riders. Today's ride was a little more civilized than some of the recent Tuesday rides, although Todd and maybe a couple of other guys did keep temporarily pushing the speed up to 29-30 mph. For the most part, though, the group was happy at 25-27. Even though I had taken yesterday off the bike, my legs were still feeling the effects of last weekend, and combined with the moist but warm morning air, the ride was something less than refreshing. Right now in NOLA the temperature is around 90F, but with a relative humidity of 64% it feels like 103.

As often happens, the pace started to ramp up a couple of notches as we got close to the Jefferson Playground where the morning festivities traditionally end. So I take a pull at around 26-27, pull off, and Donald attacks! Well, since it was only about a mile to the playground, that was pretty much it for most of us. A few guys like Todd went after Donald, caught him, and then he attacked again just before the end. The rest of us took a little while to get reassembled and just rolled in at a more civilized pace.

Once the pace eased up and most people turned off or turned around to go home, I rode with Todd back toward Audubon Park. He was telling me about his experiences at the Texas State TT and Team TT championships last weekend. The TT story was classic. They have over 400 riders for the individual TT, so they're going off at 30 second intervals. He arrives about a minute before his start, then he rolls up to the line and one of the officials sees that he's folded the top of his number over and starts unpinning it. The clock is ticking. His start time passes. The official finally tells him to go. He goes. They blow the whistle at him and make him come back to the start line and put his foot down and start again.The official is telling him that the rules require him to put a foot down. Meanwhile his 30-second man has already gone so he's lost at least half a minute. That was really wrong, wrong, wrong. As usual, this "rule" was a figment of some official's rather fertile imagination. You know what they say, everything's big in Texas. Apparently that includes their imaginations (George W. would qualify as a good example). These guys need to read the rulebook, and they also need to realize that in this case a simple warning about the number folding thing would have been more than sufficient since it was in no way going to affect the outcome of the race, while the 30-second delay most certainly did. But there has always seemed to be a tradition among some Texas officials about these sorts of things. I remember when some of our hot junior riders went over to Texas for a big race back in the days when advertising on jerseys was regulated. The officials got out their tape measures and measured the "Betat" lettering and declared it to be too big and wouldn't let them start. This was back when the jersey, in fact most jerseys, had a simple white panel on the front for the sponsor's name. The letters were sewn on or embroidered individually. I guess things haven't changed all that much. Anyway, Todd, VJ and a couple of other guys did the Team TT the next day and although they were left alone by the officials, the fickle finger of fate was still pointing in their direction. Todd blew out the tire on his disk just before the start and then VJ flatted at the turnaround. Despite all their tribulations, the still turned in some impressive times in their age groups.

Tired Legs All Around

I was in the middle of the lake at sunrise, ten miles from either shore on my way over to a little training ride on the northshore. I watched the sun climb above the horizon and then glanced down at the outdoor thermometer on the dashboard. Eighty-three degrees at sunrise and nothing but clear skies ahead. It was going to be a hot one. The plan was to get on the road by 7 am for a quick 65 miles, finishing up well before the temperatures got entirely out of hand. It was a nice plan, but the reality was that only six guys showed up, most arrived a bit late, and our 7am schedule experienced some significant slippage right from the start.

Although I thought I'd taken it fairly easy during yesterday's Giro Ride, my legs felt tired and stiff, and it was clear early on that I wasn't the only one with that problem. It seemed like everyone had done a pretty long and fast ride on Saturday. As if that wasn't bad enough, the ride turned out to be a series of unexpected problems interspersed with good but interrupted riding.

There had been a rumor that a bridge was out just north of Enon, and indeed it was. It crossed more of a swampy area than an actual stream, so we shouldered our bikes, threaded our way around the heavy equipment, jumped a few gaps, and made it to the other side with dry but dirty shoes. Then we had a flat. About half-way through the ride we decided to add a few out-and-back miles so we could stop at the store in Pine. It was already starting to get hot. I sucked down a can of cold lemonade and we headed back to our original loop. Jason and I somehow rode off the front for a few miles until we got back on course, we regrouped, and finally resumed the ride, only to stop a mile or two later when Jason noticed a problem with his rear wheel. It turned out that one of the hub flanges on his Neuvation wheel had broken off, leaving one spoke dangling in the breeze and the wheel dramatically out of true -- dramatic enough that it was hitting both the chainstay and brake quite badly. Naturally, we were at about the farthest point from the start. A couple of the guys had multi-tools with rather bad emergency spoke wrenches, and so after much stripping of nipples we finally got a couple of the opposing spokes loosened enough that, if we cocked the wheel over in the dropout just right, and loosened the brake cable completely, it would clear the chainstays. I asked Jason to make sure that when he talked with the Neuvation folks he point out that the mangled spoke nipples were the result of our emergency fix and not someone's incompetent attempt to overtighten the spokes. Anyway, needless to say, Jason wasn't going to be doing any out-of-the-saddle climbing today, so I dropped back after a couple of climbs to help pace him and Jack back up to the group.

We ended up stopping again in Enon for more water, although it wasn't enough to keep Jay's legs from cramping up toward the end. The last five miles felt like the classic mid-summer road ride death march. I wasn't feeling all that terrible during the ride, but by the time I got home and finished a few hours of painting my legs were hurting. Tomorrow's going to have to be easy!

So right now it's around 10 pm, my legs ache, my right calf is twitching, the temperature outside is around 85F, and the air is filled with the sound of a/c compressors. It must be summer!

Weekend Plans

It seems like its been a while since I had a weekend without a race and where the plan was entirely my own. The training plan of a Giro Ride on Saturday and a Northshore ride on Sunday may seem unremarkable, but compared to the balance of my agenda those will likely be the high points. The languishing kitchen painting project is in desperate need of a jump-start and this is looking like the only weekend I'll have with some long blocks of time, so guess what I'll be doing in-between training rides.

I was up kind of early this morning so I decided to use the time to make my ride out to the Lakefront a leisurely one. I think my average speed for the trip was probably twelve miles per hour. It's nice to ride easy and look at the early morning scenery sometimes because later in the day the view is partially obscured by dehydration and the splatters of sweat on the inside of my glasses. The Giro Ride group was pretty typical today except that a few guys were taking it easier than usual because of tonight's track races in Baton Rouge. I myself had seriously been considering going, but the aforementioned painting job took precedence. I kind of hate it when I have these attacks of responsibility. Fortunately, they don't happen too often. So anyway, the Giro Ride was pretty fast all the way out and most of the way back. I reset my computer just as we came down the bridge onto Hayne Blvd., and by the time we hit the turnaround out at Venetian Isles I think the average speed was just a bit under 26 mph. As usual, the stretch down Chef Highway was the fastest and I spent most of that just sitting in the paceline. With a couple of miles left before the turnaround I moved up toward the front to take a couple of pulls and ended up coming onto the front about half a kilometer before the sprint, so I figured I'd do the day's "neutral leadout," taking the lead group up to about 200 meters at which point the sprint streamed past me on both sides. I did have a little bit of fun when the Goodyear Sign sprint came up, though. I was hanging around maybe six riders from the front with the pace already up around 27 mph. I could see Bain just ahead of me kind of boxed in on the right, then I saw Tim come up on the left and when he did he looked over to Bain and said "come on." As Bain crossed over to get his wheel, I latched onto Bain's as Tim pulled us up to sprint speed. I was happy to hang onto Bain when he finally stood up to sprint.

On the way home I rode through Lakeview to see how the recovery is going. It's slow. There are lots of vacant lots where houses once stood, quite a few homes still showing the water marks from the flood that haven't been repaired at all, and some that have been, or are in the process of being raised. Basically, much of the area still looks like a construction zone.

The rest of my day was spent spackling, sanding, and painting. There's still a very long way to go on this little kitchen project but at least I got three windows finished and put a coat of paint on one of the wall cabinets. Wish I could say it's fun, but it's not. I'm looking forward to a long ride in the country tomorrow. Although we're starting at 7 am, I'm sure it will be plenty hot by the time we finish. So basically the weekend will consist of two rides and a lot of painting. Some weekend plan, eh?

Oh, and if you've made it all the way down to the end of this long post, you may as well take a look at the Discovery Channel team's Tour de France Video because you obviously don't have anything important to do anyway.

Dead Guy, Vino, and Eastern Time

Yesterday was a long day at work and when I got home a few of the neighbors were out on the sidewalk chatting, and when I noticed that their two little dogs were outfitted with matching doggie bathing suits (people just love to dress up little dogs, don't they?) I had to stop. Well, one thing led quickly to another and half an hour later I was lighting the coals on the barbecue out back and pouring Dead Guy Ale into a chilled beer glass in the living room with the neighbors. I think I was already on my second glass of vino by the time the flank steak was ready, and when we finally wrapped things up for the evening around 10:30 I was done and in need of some sleep. So wouldn't you know it -- my watch somehow got switched from Central Time to Eastern Time, which meant that my 5:50 am alarm went off in my ear at 4:50. I've got to say I was rather confused for a moment since it was way too dark and I was way too groggy. Finally I noticed that the clock on the nightstand was showing a different time and the pieces started slowly to fall into place. So anyway, an hour later I was reluctantly up, moving slowly, and a bit late getting out the door.

The Thursday training ride had a really big group today and for the most part it was smooth and very fast with about half of the group taking pulls at the front and the rest tagging along in the draft. I spent a while behind Donald on the way out as he was acting as the gatekeeper, half-way back in the paceline and hanging back a couple of bikelengths to let riders coming off the front back into the paceline ahead of him. Eventually I went around and got back into the paceline myself, taking generally shorter pulls than some of the other riders. Despite the fast pace, the group mostly stayed together the whole way today.

On the short ride back from the levee to the house I was the victim of attempted vehicular homicide no fewer than two times, and then again on my commute in to work. I don't know what it is, but it seems like the local drivers have suddenly become even more stupid than usual. Maybe it's something in the water? Anyway, consider yourself warned.

So I'm sitting here in the office rapidly losing hope that we will receive the funding allocation amount that we were promised yesterday by the Department of Education. Rumors are swirling as to why there has been a delay. Situation normal.

Cast of Characters

The Wednesday morning levee ride seems to be developing its own unique personality lately. Since it's sandwiched between the longer and faster Tuesday and Thursday rides, it is becoming popular as a mid-level day -- easier than the long rides but faster than the Monday and Friday rides. It is also attracting a somewhat different cast of characters, especially since it's a good ride for people who are just starting out with group rides and are understandably uncomfortable with the less forgiving pace of the Tuesday hammer sessions. This is a good thing in many ways, since it provides a nice entry point for riders who want to get into racing. On the other hand, it means that you can't necessarily make the same assumptions about the riders in front of you as you might make otherwise. So this morning the air felt a little cooler than usual and there were a few people in the paceline who I didn't know too well. There was also Boyd Fink, who I haven't seen in the group for quite a while. At first I was a little worried about the guy with the baggy blue shorts and running shoes. When we started out, he was staying up near the front doing a lot of work into the morning's unusual northwest headwind. Although his bike handling was fine, I was wondering if he was going too close to his limit and would abruptly blow up at some point. As it turned out, he did fine, so somebody needs to find that boy some proper riding gear.

So anyway we're rolling pretty steady into the wind at a reasonably comfortable pace and I'm noticing the guy on the Bianchi. He looks a little unsteady, and every now and then he would make this kind of panic move to one side or the other. I guess he was just staring at the wheel in front of him and so when the pace would slack off for a second he'd roll up on the guy ahead of him and have to take emergency evasive action. For those of us behind him it was rather frightening. After seven or eight miles of that, Donald rolled up alongside me and asked "When you have nightmares, are they in black and white, or Celeste??" I replied, "Celeste, and I think I'm having one right now." Then Donald rolled up next to the Bianchi rider, said something to him about his riding, and sprinted off into the distance.

Anyway, we all survived both the ride and the random heart rate spikes, although a few people did drop off the back when we got close to Jefferson Playground. In fact, the return trip, aided by a nice little tailwind, was pretty nice, even with the occasional disruptions in the paceline. I guess I should have stopped with the riders who dropped off and been sociable and at least asked their names, but there was this sweet tailwind and Scott and a couple of others weren't slowing down so I stayed with them and even took the long way home in order to prolong my tailwind time. Sometimes I can be so anti-social! Hopefully they'll be back and we can have a conversation about random things like, say, shorts, shoes, and straight lines.