Winter Wonderland My Ass

Man, if I'm going to be this cold there should at least be some spectacular scenery involved. At least the snow has stopped, so the main roads are pretty clear. The smaller neighborhood roads, however, are paved in ice. Today we drove out to the local Tanger Outlet Mall where we ran from store to store with the 17-degree north wind stinging our faces. Yes, more shopping. Between the shopping, car repairs, and restaurant meals, this is turning out to be a very expensive little visit.

I had been hoping to make an evening Spin class today, but the gym cancelled all of the afternoon classes because it's New Year's Eve. I guess I'll be starting out the new year down in the basement riding the mag trainer. At least we did manage to get the Jeep back with its fully functional heater. Right now the temperature is 4F and will likely bottom out with a wind chill of around -9 tonight. The other day when we were at the big sporting goods store at the Mall, I noticed they had an entire rack full of various types of balaclavas. Now I know why.

The Frozen North

Since we arrived in Iowa City shortly after a blizzard, the bike has not moved from its spot in the hallway and I have yet to convince myself to go to the local health club for some exercise. Amazingly, I've seen quite a few people out riding bikes through the city, though clearly they are all using them for transportation rather than exercise. Yesterday the temperature made it up to maybe 23F, but driving wasn't really all that bad. I could sum up what we've been doing here as an endless cycle of shopping, driving, and eating. The driving and eating I can handle. The shopping, well, not so much. Today the temperature got all the way up to around 32F, which was really not a good thing. The roads got wet and sloppy and slippery during the day. Then everything turned to ice. We were lucky to make it home from dinner in one piece, and much of the credit for that goes to the Volvo's traction control system. Just slam on the brakes and as you slide on the ice and the computer somehow keeps you going in a reasonably straight line.

On Monday we drove out to the Cedar Rapids airport to pick up The Daughter's car which had been there since she flew down to NOLA for Christmas. Since all of the the cars were covered with snow, it was a bit of a challenge just to find it. She'd lost her key fob/remote somewhere during her trip to New Orleans, so every time you unlock the door, the alarm goes off until you start the car. The other problem was that the heater fan only works on high. It was pretty chilly in the car for the first fifteen minutes. Car heaters take a very long time to start putting out hot air up here in the frozen north. Luckily, the car also has heated seats. Today the car is at the Jeep dealer getting its heater fixed, among other things.

So yesterday was spent largely at the Mall over in Coralville. I spent fifteen minutes at the Best Buy and bought a new off-the-shelf laptop (Toshiba Satellite A505,Windows 7) and then about three hours sitting on benches while the rest of the crew shopped for clothes and things like that. I was, in a word, miserable. Later in the evening, though, I fixed The Daughter's laptop which was missing drivers for its wireless adapter and touchpad after having had its hard drive replaced. I also had to download new security software for the 16 gig flashdrive so it would work with Windows 7.

Today The Daughter was doing a little intra-squad practice meet with the gymnastics team she coaches, so I was recruited to do the video recording for that. Since the temperature by then was up around the melting point of ice, we took a walk through campus and across the river to get something to eat before the meet started. Later, we went out to the suburbs for dinner at the Iowa coach's house. By then the streets were getting rather icy. I was amazed to discover that there is such a thing as a snowman kit that you can buy at the store just in case you're running short on snowman accessories. The drive home was pretty slick, and the car's traction control system got quite a workout as we made our way up and down the hills at 20 mph. Anyway, if I can drag myself out of bed in time tomorrow morning, I may try for the 5:30 am Spin class over at Core Fitness. I'd say there's a 50-50 chance, but I'm starting to get desperate. I am not particularly motivated right now, and perfectly reasonable excuses are in abundant supply. It is, after all, still December.

Rough Christmas Week

It was looking like it would be a nice relaxing Christmas week when I headed out for the airport Monday afternoon to pick up The Daughter. The flight was merely an hour or so late, Christmtas vacation started on Wednesday, and although the weather was warm and there was rain in the forecast, Christmas day was looking to be pretty nice. So I pick her up, drive home, and walk inside. She walks into the kitchen and comes back out asking, "are you doing work on the back door?" We'd been broken into, literally -- someone had kicked through the door panel. It's likely they were still in there when we drove up, because they had only gone through the bedrooms, stealing three laptops and a bunch of jewelry, but little else. Also, a woman had crossed the street and walked past us as we parked the car -- probably a lookout. The police department was there quickly, and after a quick look around they called in the New Orleans version of CSI, complete with the blue latex gloves and tackle box. They dusted for prints, took detailed notes, and seemed to have the idea that this had been done by the same person responsible for a few other recent burglaries. Not a very good way to start the holidays.

Tuesday morning I made it out for the morning ride, pretty much expecting to get rained on, but luckily we managed to get back well before the weather started to go downhill. The only problem was that the ride seemed really hard for some reason. Howard, Woody and Rob started attacking each other and I just wasn't in the mood to play that game. Even so, the second group was pushing pretty hard for most of the way out to the turnaround. Later that evening The Wife got a call on her cellphone from a bipolar homeless person who had found her stolen backpack while dumpster-diving. Since it had her passport and other various cards and documents in it, we called the neighbor to follow us for backup and met him at the Walmart parking lot where we got the backpack, which contained the power supply for The Wife's laptop, and he got some cash. The guy was very excited that she worked in Psychiatry and wanted to keep one of her cards so he could call her about his psychiatric problems. The next morning I saw a Toshiba M45 laptop on the local Craigslist that looked a lot like The Wife's stolen one - same model and specs. The ad mentioned that it "needs new power cord." Hmmm. We gave the information to the police detective, but haven't heard anything back from her. My own Toshiba M55 (both were purchased immediately after Katrina when we were refugees), that has about a thousand photos, race results, etc., will probably never show up. Most of the important stuff is backed up somewhere (I hope), but it'll probably be a while before I can get a new laptop, replace and reinstall software, and get everything working smoothly again. In the meantime, I'll be mostly stuck with the Blackberry until I'm back in the office in January. I spent a good three hours on Tuesday changing about two hundred passwords since I had Passwords Plus on the laptop. Naturally you need a password in order to open it, but I figured I'd better change everything just to be on the safe side. We also set up fraud alerts with the credit reporting agencies in case there is any attempt at identity theft -- better safe than sorry.

After the break-in on Monday, the cat started going downhill and we took her to the Vet on Tuesday. She was in acute kidney failure and had to be put down. Meanwhile I installed a little wireless alarm system just in case our friends decide to come back and finish the job over the holidays. After Christmas I'll need to get someone out here to replace the door, which won't be a simple task since it's from the 20's and nothing off the shelf will work. Luckily, I was able to ride Wednesday and Thursday, so that was good. I certainly won't make it out on the bike today, but tomorrow's looking pretty good.

More Like Winter

It was feeling a lot more like winter when we pulled into the parking lot for the Sunday morning Northshore training ride. The thermometer in Mignon's car was reading something around 38F, but there were fifteen riders on hand anyway thanks to the clear blue sky and mild wind. Within minutes of getting out of the warm cocoon of automotive warmth my wardrobe plans were already escalating. Yes, I knew it would warm up fairly quickly, but that didn't stop me from adding the arm-warmers underneath the Kodiak jersey, or the wind vest on top of it all. At least I was comfortable for those first ten miles.

It quickly became apparent that there were at least a couple of guys in the group who were actually planning on getting some significant training, as opposed to simple saddle time, during the ride. That's not to say that things got out of hand. Far from it. The pace was fairly smooth and steady, although there were occasional pulls that clicked the pace up a notch, but those were all pretty manageable thanks to the relatively calm air. When I saw that Ed was riding his track bike I decided that my goal for the day would be to stay in the small ring and pay some attention to leg speed. I also decided that in order to survive I should probably try and conserve a little bit during the first half of the ride because I could already see the writing on the wall.

There are probably be four danger zones on this ride, from a droppage perspective, and they all come after the turn off of Highway 10, about halfway through. The first, that long curving climb between Highway 10 and Lee Road, turned out to be smooth and steady, and I think we all came over that one together. The next two, on that same road, were steeper, and the second one was one of the designated sprint zones (which we're not really supposed to be doing until January). I had a feeling there would be a sprint anyway, and indeed there was. I noticed that John, who has been making every northshore ride this winter, is rapidly getting in shape and beginning to contest these. The group got a little strung out on that one and a couple of people came off the back, but we regrouped as usual after Sie Jenkins Road and it was gruppo compacto from there into Enon, where there was yet another premature sprint. It was along that stretch, leading up to the Enon Sign Sprint, where the pace touched 30 mph and Ed and I started feeling like a couple of little hamsters at a SPIN class. After Enon I waited up for some riders and the group kind of fragmented for a while as we crossed the Bogue Chitto river where I spotted a lone Bald Eagle circling overhead looking for the catch of the day. I pointed and waved but I don't think anyone except Jaro, who was with me at the time, saw it. Maybe I'm just the only one who gets excited when he sees an Eagle. At Tung Road I waited up and as the front of the group continued, but Steve and Pat were pretty far back already so I ended up riding the last few miles back to the car with Mignon.

I thought it was a really good winter training ride. Lots of steady state aerobic riding, a few hard climbs, a little bit of speed, and a nice smooth finish.

So I went out this morning for a quick 20 miles alone so I could be back home in time to take the cat to the vet for a follow-up, stop at the UPS store, stop at Starbucks, drop The Wife off at work downtown, and then drive back home to take my first shower since Saturday, and dress for work. Right now I'm just about to head off for the airport to pick up The Daughter, and her little dog too; arriving from Iowa City only about an hour later than the original schedule. Then on Sunday (I think) we're all driving up to the frozen north, weather permitting, and spending a few days there.

Coffee Shop Ride

December is always a great time to do some of the fun rides that you'd probably never do closer to the racing season. A couple of days ago someone reminded me that I'd been promising a coffee shop ride once the weather got colder. So I sent out an email to see if there was any interest, and next thing I knew I was rolling up to the local Starbucks on a chilly Saturday morning. Although I was nearly half an hour early, I was surprised to see a number of people already there. Soon we had around fifteen riders and had more or less taken over the place as bemused locals wandered in wondering what all the lycra was about. The plan, such as it was, was to ride down to the French Quarter for some beginets at Cafe' du Monde, and then ride through Faubourg Marigny and out to Almonaster, eventually coming back by way of Lakeshore Drive, Metairie Road, Bonnabel and the levee.


These kinds of city rides always require a large dose of patience, and we got a quick start on that when one rider flatted coming out of the coffee shop parking lot. I got that fixed as quickly as I could, and we headed for Audubon Park where I promptly put a big nail through my tire. It was rather windy this morning, but one of the good things about city rides is that when you're in the old neighborhoods you never really feel the wind. Today we took the long way, following the river along Tchoupitoulas Street and taking a little detour across the tracks where the cruise ship terminal is. Eventually we worked our way through the morning traffic to Cafe' du Monde where we went through four orders of hot beignets and a few cups of cafe au lait. It was so good that we had a hard time getting everyone back on the bikes. In fact, at this point we lost a number of people who had to get back home for one reason or another.


The ride out to Almonaster went smoothly, except for yet another flat tire, but when we finally turned north toward the lake we ran into the northwest wind that had come with yesterday's cold front. It wasn't really much of a problem since this was an easy winter ride. I think our average speed was somewhere around 15 mph. Even so, we rode into the wind for a long time, stopping for another break at Kona Cafe, and then working our way through Metairie and Jefferson back to the levee bike path. I ended up with a bit under 50 miles, which was fine since I'm planning on doing the northshore ride tomorrow. The forecast is calling for mid to upper 30s in the morning, but hopefully the sun will be out and it will warm up quickly.

Finally!

This has been a pretty dismal week, training-wise. After Monday's morning damp ride on the levee I was kind of hoping to slip in an early ride Tuesday morning before my flight up to D.C. Well, that didn't happen. Monday turned out to be wet and rainy, a continuation of the long-standing "flash flood watch" that we've been living under for what seems like a week. So I took the $33 plus tip taxi ride to the airport, flew up to DCA, rented a generic economy car at a particularly uneconomical price in the $60 per day range, missed an exit, had to drive across the Potomac twice, got back on track, and arrived at the hotel in Gaithersburg MD in the late afternoon. While the weather up in MD was cold and clear, back at home the streets were flooding - again. I found a nice little restaurant nearby with Dogfish Ale, but it always feels kind of sad to be eating alone at a restaurant.

Wednesday was a tour and presentations at NIST, which was interesting. If you happen to find yourself in need of some time on something like a disk chopper neutron time-of-flight spectrometer, or want to do some some electron beam lithography in a 19,000 sf clean room, I can at least point you in the right direction. One of our physicists is there right now on sabbatical working in the Center for Neutron Research. Anyway, by 2:30 I was back in the road to DCA contemplating what I was going to do with the four hours of dead time at the airport before my flight home. Luckily I got quite lost and tied up in traffic in Crystal City while looking for a gas station, which killed a good forty-five minutes. I'm glad I had GPS on my Blackberry, but next time I may just spring for the $10/gallon rental car agency gas when all I need are a couple of gallons. On the plus side, I was able to have a nice relaxed early dinner at the airport TGI Friday's while watching the long, long line of people trying to get through airport security during DCA's evening rush hour. By the time I'd finished my sandwich and beer the line was back to normal, so I made my way out to the gate, found an outlet for the laptop, and knocked off some of the accumulated email. By the time I got home around 10 pm I was tired and cranky from having missed two days of riding, even though they probably would have been very wet ones.

Thursday morning I was determined to get out on the bike, so I didn't even check the radar. I arrived at the levee to find a fairly large group, but when I noticed the rain jacket stuffed into Woody's jersey pocket, I asked if there was something I didn't know. The answer was a definitive, "Yes. We're going to get rained on." And so we were. It never got really heavy, but by the time we got out to The Dip, there was no debate on the decision to turn around early. When Erich, who was riding his track bike, flatted, most of us waited around until he was rolling again, by which time we were getting pretty cold. Even though I got home quite wet, I was still glad to have gotten in a little exercise under the circumstances. The rest of the day pretty much went downhill, weather-wise. I drove my mother in for a follow-up visit to an MRI taken the prior week and found that she has a compression fracture at L5 which is causing her substantial hip pain, so it was off to the drug store for an assortment of analgesics, then back to work.

By the end of the day it was raining pretty hard again, so I called The Wife for extraction rather than ride home in the cold rain. That would have worked out fine except that everyone else was already gone by then and when I went to lock the office door I discovered I'd picked up the wrong keychain. I was planning on picking up my keys at home and driving back to the office to lock up, but then I thought I'd just call campus police and see if they could lock the door for me. Big mistake. They told me that they didn't have the key, so I'd have to get someone to go out there. I thanked them and after I got home hopped back into the car and drove back to lock the door. Since it was pouring rain, I went in the back door, noticing that the lights were on in the office. I thought someone had come back for some reason. But when I walked into the hallway I found myself face-to-face with an enormous campus police officer with a Glock in one hand asking me who I was. Anyway, I satisfied him that I was indeed the person who had called earlier and that I'd come back to lock up, so I was back on my way home a few minutes later feeling glad that I hadn't walked into the office earlier with a large shiny metal object in my hand.

Finally, after raining all night, a cool front pushed through early Friday morning and the skies started to clear. At 6 am the streets were very wet, it was fairly chilly, and it was very, very windy, but I probably would have ridden anyway if I hadn't been up until 1:30 am commenting on a paper for The Daughter. So let's see. I missed last Saturday, rode on Sunday and Monday, missed Tuesday and Wednesday, rode on Thursday, and missed Friday. This definitely does not constitute a training program. Tomorrow I'm going to ease back in with a nice 50-mile coffee shop ride in town, and then hopefully a long training ride on the northshore on Sunday. I think I may have reached my peak un-fitness level a bit early this year.

Fog, Flats and Fun

It was 6 am when my Blackberry alerted me to an incoming text message. I was already sitting in front of the laptop with one window showing the radar and another showing the Causeway Cam photo of the northshore toll gate. The message read simply, "What do you think?" The question wasn't about the meaning of life or the state of the economy, it was about the northshore ride, and frankly, I wasn't quite sure how to reply. It looked like the rain was gone, but the streets were good and wet and a sudden warm front had brought with it a thick fog. I replied with a noncommittal assessment of the weather. "So it that a yes?" was the reply. I thought about it for a minute. The 7 am Giro Ride on the southshore would surely be wet and foggy. The northshore ride didn't start until 8 am, but the causeway would almost certainly be socked in with fog. I reasoned that either ride would be damp, but the odds looked better on the northshore assuming we could get across the causeway in time. When the weather is like this, I've found that nine times out of ten the decision to go ahead to do the northshore ride turns out to have been the right one. So I met John and Mignon at Puccino's and we headed across the lake on the causeway, where there was a 45-mph, one lane only, fog-induced restriction. I phoned ahead to tell Jason we were going to be late, and he said they'd wait for us. It was probably about 8:30 by the time we all rolled out onto the wet asphalt.

It was warm. Warmer than most of us were willing to believe, actually. Soon, pockets were filling up with unneeded arm-warmers and vests, and by the time we got to the Watchtower hill the fog was nearly gone. I'd been hoping to see a bit of sun, but we were never quite that lucky. The prior day's clouds still blanketed the area and the news was still about the prior day's flooding. Later in the day I would learn that one of Tulane's faculty members had died after his car went into a flooded canal. He'd rescued his wife, but hadn't made it out himself. When we get these kinds of torrential rains and the drainage canals overflow, it becomes nearly impossible to tell where the road ends and the canal begins.

The ride turned out to be a lot of fun. With a small group of about seven, all of whom were willing and able to maintain a good winter ride pace, things went quite smoothly. John flatted early in the ride, but otherwise we got in a solid 65 miles on the regular northshore route despite being rather warm and damp. I'd gone out wearing two jerseys with arm and knee warmers, but after the first twenty miles most of that was just dead weight. We were about five miles from the end of the ride when I started to feel that familiar squishiness telling me I was getting a flat. The wheels and bike were pretty grimy by now and I really didn't want to have to fix a flat so close to the finish, so I continued on until I started to feel the rim bottoming out on the bumps. We were only a mile or so from the end by that time, so I dropped out of the paceline, pushed my ass way back on the saddle to keep my weight off of the front wheel, and rode the last bit on the flat. By the time I got to the cars the inner tube had bunched itself up near the valve stem and the wheel was going "thump, thump, thump," but at least my hands were still relatively clean.

Sunday evening we went with the neighbors to City Park's Celebration in the Oaks, which was really just an excuse to watch the neighbor's kid having a blast on all of the rides. It was warm, foggy and misty the whole time, but fortunately for us, they were selling wine, which made it much more enjoyable. As usual, I couldn't resist the challenge of trying to get a few good photos with my pocket camera under such challenging conditions.

This morning the streets were still soaking wet, and there was a light mist and thick fog, so I went out on the rain bike and logged an hour's recovery ride, arriving back home good and wet, and just in time to take The Cat to the Vet for a follow-up.

Wind and Rain

OK now, before I get started griping about the miserable riding weather we've had around here lately, I must direct your attention to Jill's "Up in Alaska" blog today because the photos are pretty spectacular. Next time you start to wimp out on a training ride because it's a little cold and windy, perhaps this will help put things in perspective and provide a little extra inspiration.

So Friday morning the wind was blowing even more strongly than it had been on Thursday, but since the forecast was calling, in no uncertain terms, for rain later in the day, I rummaged around searching for a couple of recently laundered and subsequently misplaced items of cool-weather riding clothing and stumbled out the door with only five minutes to make it to the levee. (How's that for a run-on sentence?) I really wasn't expecting to see anyone at the meeting spot since I arrived four or five minutes late, so I just pushed on up the river hoping to get in an hour or so of riding before work.

I was still a couple of miles from Williams Blvd. when I saw John and Taylor already coming back, so naturally I turned around. They'd turned back early because of the wind (and cold). I'd been riding along with more tailwind than headwind, so I knew the ride back would be pretty hard, so I couldn't pass up the opportunity to share the pain with two other people. We weren't trying to push the pace or anything, but just maintaining 20 mph required a pretty good effort every time my turn came up on the front, and for the last few miles when we were heading directly into the wind, we were lucky to hold 19. At least I made it home, gave the cat a shot of insulin, and made it to work before things got too nasty.

The rain started later that morning and has continued off-and-on since then. Saturday morning was a wash-out, and then things just kind of went downhill. By mid-afternoon is was raining steadily. I think they said that the airport has recorded eleven inches of rain so far this month. Streets all over the city were flooding all over the city around 5 pm. My main accomplishment for the day was finding 0.3 ml, U-100, 31 gauge syringes online.

Tomorrow I'm hoping to be able to do the northshore ride, assuming the weather cooperates and I can convince The Wife to stab The Cat with a syringe that I've pre-loaded with 2 units of "Vetsulin." I definitely need a long ride, if only for psychiatric reasons.

A Tough Week for Riding

Man, it's really been a tough week for riding, at least for me. It had started out pretty well, though, with a big group ride way over in Mobile, AL. Scott K had organized a Sunday ride from his new shop, and since I knew I wouldn't get to ride on Saturday because of the LAMBRA meeting I had to attend in Jackson, MS, I figured I'd hitch a ride with some of the Herring guys and take the opportunity to ride some different roads with a different group.

Saturday: Saturday's drive up to Jackson with Mark was a little more interesting than usual because there had been some rare snowfall in southern Louisiana and Mississippi. Some of the attendees who were driving from Lafayette encountered icy roads, but for us, the driving was fine and the day was beautiful. The meeting went well and we got a preliminary calendar worked out, formed a committee to make recommendations for the LCCS, and made it back home just in time for me to get in on a private dinner at Antoine's 12th Night Room that was associated with a Psychiatry meeting. By the time I got home, I was more than ready for bed, especially since Kenny was picking me up at 5:45 am the next morning.

Sunday: When we pulled into the parking lot at Infinity Bicycles I was surprised to see so many riders. In addition to the Herring guys (Scott's teammates) and the local riders, there were a number of people from Florida and Alabama too. It was cold but sunny, but I dressed warmly anyway. I knew I'd be hot and unzipped by the end, but with a no-drop group ride with over 40 riders, I also knew there would be a fair amount of stopping and waiting. So the ride was a lot of fun and just exactly what I'd been looking for, except for a couple of rather extended stops. The pace stayed in that happy place around 20-22 mph most of the time. I got in fifteen minutes or so of hard chasing when the group strung out on a busy highway, then got split up because of a flat. Scott had offered a prize to the first rider to the top of the Cochrane Bridge at mile 63, with the attack zone starting about ten miles before that. There was a fair number of relatively fresh legs since the pace had been so moderate, so as soon as we started out from the last stop the attacks started. Aided by a little tailwind, we spent most of the time in the 28-30 mph zone, and I doubt it ever dropped below 26. Although I had no intention of contesting the race to the top, it didn't take me long to figure out that the breaks weren't going to survive, so I tucked in near the back with Frank and just tried to avoid getting gapped off. Once we hit the climb things blew up pretty fast. Frank attacked the bridge climb early and ended up beating all those young guys to the top and I even put in a little effort for the last half of the climb myself. Afterward we all went across the street for pizza and caught the last half of the Saints game, which went into overtime, so it wasn't until rather late that we finally headed back for New Orleans.

Monday and Tuesday: We had a solid string of consultant meetings lined up on Monday, so I knew I wouldn't be able to ride that day. I told myself it was OK since it was wet and rainy anyway, but somehow, in the back of my mind, I knew I was already on a slippery slope. A morning meeting on Tuesday kept me from my regular training ride that day too, and the subsequent dinner at Cochon was great, but once again my usual late night routine got tossed out the window in favor of sleep, so I set my sights on Wednesday. That's when things started going downhill. You see, The Cat, who is something like 15 years old, was showing all the symptoms of diabetes and we had taken her to the vet Tuesday evening. Her blood sugar was off the charts, so then we had to take her out to Metairie where they could monitor her overnight and then pick her up before 7:30 am to return her to the Vet Wednesday morning. I was getting desperate for a ride, so I went out in the dark early Wednesday so I could be back at the house by 7 am.

Wednesday and Thursday: It was more back and forth with the cat morning and evening, plus a Wednesday night party at the Poydras Home listening to a loud American Legion brass band while contemplating the the pros and cons of living past 80. Back at the house I ended up staying up well past midnight trying to catch up on some LAMBRA and Tulane work while at the same time downloading and installing updated drivers for an old laptop that had been given up for dead a couple of years ago but is now working great after reseating the hard drive connector and downloading a few gigabytes of Microsoft updates and fixing a software problem that had been keeping the wireless from working. By Thursday morning I was tired, but really, really needed a long ride, so The Wife handled the morning cat transfer alone and I went out to the levee for the 6:15 ride. A cold front had come through the night before, dropping the temperature by about twenty degrees and bringing with it a brutal and gusty north wind. The ride turned out to be a pretty hard one, splitting the group pretty early, thanks to the crosswind. As I rode the last few miles back to the house I could feel the dried tears and salt on my face. Then I took my mother in for an MRI because she has a bunch of sudden hip pain that I guess might be a disc problem. Now if I can just get through my afternoon dentist appointment and stop the veterinarian induced bleeding from my bank account there might at least be some hope for the weekend.

We'll see.....

A Table for Four

It's cold again. Honestly, this time of year I never know what surprises the thermometer will bring each morning. Today it was back in the upper 40s - long tights and shoe-cover weather for me. Clouds on the eastern horizon blocked the sun, and together with a strong north wind made it feel colder and darker than usual. Like me, everyone had tried to time his arrival at the meeting spot to minimize any unnecessary standing around, so the crew went from three to a dozen in about two minutes. As we headed up the river into the wind I already knew what would happen. At some point we'd come to a long crosswind stretch, someone at the front would push the pace, and then something, almost anything, would cause a little gap to open. As we all know, a little gap on a crosswind day can be fatal.

It didn't take long for the group to sort itself out - stronger riders toward the front taking pulls; the rest lined up on the edge of the asphalt trying to get a draft. When I saw Mignon dropping back after taking a pull I let her into the paceline ahead of me because the headwind was about to become a crosswind. She had been telling me last weekend how frustrating it had been getting dropped on these windy days and I encouraged her to try to stay near the front where there was a better draft and lower chance of having the paceline break ahead of her.

So things were going along OK as we rode through Kenner and I found myself on Big Richard's wheel six riders from the front. We were on that long stretch between the parish line and The Dip with a strong quartering crosswind. The pace had already jumped up a notch as the road curved back toward the west, and only a few were still consistently taking pulls at the front. Suddenly the speed surged up again, taking us above 25 mph. Woody was testing his legs and thinking about the training ride he was going to do with the Herring guys on Sunday. I was still getting a bit of a draft along the left edge of the bike path, but I didn't dare look back. I knew there was nothing behind me but pain. Then I heard Keith say, "we lost everyone else." A moment later we came to a jogger in the oncoming lane and Richard had to move over to the right out of the draft. Bam! A gap opened immediately. I looked down at the computer and it said 27 mph. We got past the pedestrian, but the damage was done. The front group was still accelerating. Richard took a hard pull and blew. I came past, closed a few meters, and then started losing ground again. The wind was strong enough that I couldn't sustain the necessary 28 mph for more than thirty seconds, if that, and there was just no draft to be had. I watched the group of four pull away ahead of me and didn't even need to look back to know that I was all alone in the wind. As Erich (who was on his track bike with a 48 x 16) said a bit later, "There's only a table for four" in that kind of crosswind.

I rode the rest of the way to the turnaround alone at around 21 mph, which wasn't easy.

On the return trip the wind wasn't quite so much of a factor, so I spent a lot more time at the front. The pace nonetheless got fast and the number of people pulling started to drop. We were down to three in the rotation for a while, then just two. The pack had split again somewhere out there - I don't know exactly where - but eventually the speed dropped a notch and things smoothed out. So I ended up with a good training ride with just a couple of fairly brief excursions into anaerobic territory and a good long time in that winter training zone where I want to be this time of year. After a brief stop at Zotz for a cup of dark roast and turbinado sugar I was feeling pretty good.

Rain Bike Days

Yesterday and today were rain bike days for me. Although the forecast for both days was rather worse than reality, the decision to ride the old Pennine was an easy one. Tuesday morning at 5:45 am I peered through the Levelors and was surprised to find it wasn't raining. That was encouraging. I checked the weather radar right away. That was far less encouraging. I whispered to myself, "it looks like there's a little hole in the rain!" There was a good chance I could get in a few miles before the city would be overtaken by the green stuff, so I stuffed a rain jacket into my jersey pocket, pumped up the tires on the full-fender Pennine, flipped on the blinky lights and headed out to the levee. The air was cool but unsettled and you could tell that things were changing. There was nobody at the usual meeting spot, which didn't surprise me at all. Who would be crazy enough to go out on a morning like this when it was guaranteed to rain?

I would soon find out.

The first person I saw riding toward me was Howard. He turned around and asked, as if he was surprised, "Is this it?" I assured him it was, and told him I was just hoping to get in twenty miles without getting too wet and cold. So we rode on at a pretty easy pace for a few miles, and then Howard commented, "I think I feel raindrops." A little while later we met up with Mark G., and by then we were riding in a light drizzle that showed no sign of stopping. Still, it was pretty light and looked like it would stay that way, so I set my sights on a turnaround at the Pipes, which would give me my 20 miles and likely get me home before hypothermia set in. It never did rain very hard, but by the time I got home my feet and the fronts of my legs were feeling pretty cold. It rained most of the day - that cold, drippy kind of drizzle that chills you to the bone.

At 5 am this morning I could hear it raining pretty hard outside the bedroom window, but by the time I got up an hour later it had stopped and the radar was looking pretty good. The streets, however, were soaking wet. I knew that would keep most people off their bikes, but fortunately my rain bike's fenders would keep my feet and legs nice and dry, so I went out as usual. It was one of the loneliest rides I've ever had on the levee bike path. I probably saw four people the whole time, but by the time I was on my way back the asphalt was drying out and the sun was shining in my eyes, so it turned out to have been a good call. Granted, I never seem to get much of a workout on days like this, but I think it's still worthwhile to do these kinds of rides as long as you don't get too chilled. Right now the weather is much improved and the next couple of days should be windy and chilly, but definitely without rain.

So my nephew emailed me the other day looking for some information about my grandfather for a project he is doing at school. I dug out some old photos and stuff and spend a while with the scanner looking at an old diary and some old photos. It's nice that these things have survived the last hundred years or so. Reading my grandfather's brief diary that starts a couple of days before his wedding in 1922 and ends with his return from a honeymoon trip to California, I was kind of surprised that I had seen and visited most of the places he did. Here's a scan of a couple of pages of the diary recounting a train derailment approaching Colorado Springs and a couple of days of sightseeing before continuing on back to New Orleans. I don't think he ever got to take another extended trip like that and had to make do with reading National Geographic.

Turnabout

Sunday morning - the legs felt good, the sky was clear, and the temperature was on the rise. It was looking like it would be a great day for the Northshore winter training ride. Pat and I loaded our bikes into, and onto, Vivian's car, and drove across the causeway to see who would show up at the Lee Road Middle School. As usual, the temperature had dropped a few degrees during the trip and it felt chilly standing there in the parking lot staring into by the abyss that is my gear bag. What to wear? At the moment, it was clearly knee-warmer weather, but there was no doubt that in an hour the south wind and clear sky would be pushing the temperature into the mid-60s. Well, I went with the warm stuff, knowing I'd be unzipping things pretty quickly.

As late November rides go, this one was pretty typical except that we somehow lost Cindy, and her husband who was following on his scooter, within the first ten miles. The pace hadn't been particularly fast, and so as we were nearing the Watchtower I looked back. I couldn't see either of them. Probably some sort of mechanical problem, I thought. They had a map, so nothing to worry about. The group sailed through Enon and continued up Lee Road and Tullos Road with a light tailwind, but after turning east on 1072 some gaps started to open up. Nobody was turning the screws, but the fact of group riding this time of year, particularly right after Thanksgiving, is that riders' goals and fitness levels are pretty much all over the map. Later, way up at the northern end of the route, we stopped briefly to regroup. As I often do, rather than wait, I turned around and rode back to pick up the riders who were off the back and ride with them back to the group. This is a nice way to get in a few extra miles, avoid standing around doing nothing, and keep the group together. Later in the year when the rides get more competitive, this is a far less attractive option, but after the prior day's long ride it was just what I needed.

I ended up doing this three or four times over the course of the 65 mile ride. When we picked up a little tail-crosswind coming back on 1072, Viv got gapped off on the hills. I dropped back so we could take the Dummyline Road shortcut and it worked out perfectly as we met back up with the group right at the Enon town sign.

Next was the climb up to the watchtower from the Bogue Chitto river, and I thought I'd see if I could ride tempo at the front to limit the damage that I knew it would inflict on some of the more tired legs. Unfortunately, one man's tempo is another man's surge, I guess, and by the time the small front group got to Tung Road there was a long string of solo riders stretched out over a couple of miles of highway, so I turned back one last time and rode back up the road to pick up the last rider and make sure everyone got through the final intersection without getting lost. Then, for the last seven miles or so I time-trialed in passing a few of the solo riders along the way. I ended up with something like 66 miles, so all that turning around made up for the lost mileage from the shortcut. Worked out pretty nicely! Back in the parking lot, we were just about to head home when we saw Jorge about to drive out of the parking lot in the wrong direction. He rolled down his car window and told us that Cindy had actually continued on the full route but that they had missed the turn at Sie Jenkins Road and ended up in Bogalousa where they had called him for directions. He had told them how to get back to Enon and was going to go pick them up there.

Later in the afternoon we walked over to Palmer Park to wander around the monthly crafts fair for a while since the weather was so nice. I took a cellphone photo of these "Bead Bikes" that were locked up at the park. Things will be going downhill in that regard for the next day or two, however. I got in a nice 25 mile recovery ride this morning, but by 10:30 or so it was raining. Right now, it looks like we should be able to get in tomorrow's morning ride before conditions start to deteriorate ahead of the next batch of rain scheduled for Tuesday evening and Wednesday. By Thursday the next little cold front should arrive, but it doesn't look like it will stick around long.

Ride to the Rigolets

I was ready for a long ride, and when there was a mid-week email about extending the Saturday Giro out to Fort Pike and the Rigolets bridge, I was happy to throw my name into the hat. But the morning started off overcast and chilly, and the first thing I thought as I rode away from the house was, "maybe I should have worn the long tights." It's one thing to be cold at the start of a ride on a sunny day; quite another when the sky is uniformly grey. On the plus side, at least I'd gotten the central heat fixed after if failed to fire up Thursday night - the very first time we ever turned it on. It turned out that back in June when it had been installed they had wired it up with the polarity reversed. It was rather amazing that the A/C had worked. So anyway, when I got out to the lakefront I stuffed my vest into my pocket and merged in with the large Giro group that included a number of triathletes.

The group was particularly lackadaisical today. Some of that can probably be attributed to the cool weather and holidays, but I think a little credit might have to go to the tri shorts some of the girls were wearing. A little while after we got onto Hayne Blvd., Mike W. rode off the front of the slow-moving bunch. I picked up the pace a bit and next thing I knew I was alone. VJ was up the road with Mike by then, so I eased up to get back into the group, but then Jay and Mark rode up to me and said that nobody was interested in going fast and they wanted to at least get in a workout. So the three of us rode a nice paceline at a moderate speed eventually catching up with Mike and VJ. By the time we got going on Chef Highway, the group was out of sight and it was just Mark, Jay, Mike and me. I was figuring we'd ride together out to Venetian Isles and I'd wait up there for the small group that was planning on continuing on to Fort Pike. Then an oncoming big tractor trailer made a fast turn right in front of us and when I sat up and eased over onto the shoulder, I punctured. Jay and Mark stopped with me to change the flat, and unfortunately the first tube I put in went flat also, so by the time we got going again, the group had not only caught up with us, it was a good two minutes up the road.

Luckily the others who were going to Ft. Pike waited for me, so we had a pretty nice ride out to the bridge, interrupted only by occasional moments of terror when speeding convoys of mud-hauling trucks would speed past us blasting their horns. By the time I got home, after a quick stop at Starbucks, it was about noon, I had well over 80 miles on the odometer, and the sun was finally shining. Hopefully my legs will still be OK for tomorrow's northshore ride.

Turkey Day

It was just a touch under 50° when I pulled on the long tights and headed over to the levee for the 7 am Thanksgiving ride. I didn't really have a plan in mind for this ride, other than to be back home early enough to help get thing in order for a mid-afternoon Thanksgiving Day dinner. The weather was chilly but otherwise beautiful as we rode up the river trying to catch up with Scott who seemed determined to keep us from getting too lazy. With a light head-crosswind we were limited to the low-20s for much of the outward bound ride, but Scott was spending a lot of time up on the front and he wasn't getting any complaints about it, so it was good. Then we caught up with Donald who took over the Mother Duck duties. He ended up pulling the whole string of a dozen riders for the next ten miles, all the way to the turnaround.

The return trip was a little faster, thanks to the increasing tailwind, but I was still surprised when three or four of us ended up off the front. We were going around 23-24 mph, so there really wasn't any reason we should have opened a gap unless the rest of the group just wasn't interested. Anyway, we stayed out there for a long time riding paceline until, somewhere around the Country Club, I sat up and said, "I'm going to wait up for the group." I thought it would be nice to wish everyone a happy Thanksgiving before they all headed home. The rest of our group did the same, so we all came back together before the Playground.

With family and friends scheduled to come to the house around 2:30, I spent quite a while polishing silver as the 20-pound turkey cooked and The Wife made pies and all the other stuff necessary to make a thanksgiving dinner for twelve. Luckily my plywood extension to our little dining room table held up to the strain. I'm still not sure if my stomach did.

After everyone left and the outside temperature started to drop I decided it might be time to fire up the heater. It hadn't been turned on since it had been installed in the early summer. Well, naturally it didn't fire up, so now I'll have to call them up and get them out here to see what the problem is. Luckily it's not really very cold and the old gas heater in the fireplace can keep the temperature under control.

Sounds like we'll be doing a later-than-normal 7:00 am ride again tomorrow. That should work out just fine.....

Just Another Tuesday on the Levee

It was another Tuesday morning training ride on the levee today. The weather lately has been pretty good and so even at 6:15 am there was a big group ready to go. The only issue today was the light ground fog. By the time we'd gone two or three miles my glasses were already too fogged up to see through and I spent the next fifteen or twenty miles looking over the tops of them. We must have had a little tailwind, though, because the speed was brisk with a few inexplicable surges. When we got to the turnaround out by Ormond, it looked to me like everyone was ready for a little break. Indeed, the group started back at a conversational pace, and for a long time there was no hint that it would ever pick up again.

We were somewhere around the dip when I looked over at the guy riding next to me and commented, "They sure are being civilized so far. I'm just waiting for the next shoe to fall." A little while later, a couple of guys surged off the front and a big gap opened right away. I couldn't really tell if the group was just going to let them go or decide to mount a chase. Suddenly, one rider jumped clear on the right and started to bridge, then another, and another. I knew it was time to go, but I was still thinking that the group could catch, and for a minute or two we started to close, but then the chase completely fell apart. I took a long pull thinking it might stabilize things so we could get a paceline going again, but when I went to pull over I discovered I was alone. I guess that's the trouble with the training rides this time of year. Everyone seems to have a different take on 'winter training' so while, on any given day, some might think it's a great idea to hammer away for fifteen miles at a stretch, others are fully invested in the LSD concept. Add to the mix a couple of riders who are determined to stay in the small ring and work on form and it can get pretty hard to organize a chase group.

Up ahead I could see that the chasers had caught the leaders and now there was a strong group of at least six up the road. I wasn't losing too much time on them, and when Chip came up to help I figured we had a shot at making the bridge. We worked together for a long time and at one point got pretty close, but we just didn't have enough horsepower close the deal, and the group up ahead was showing no signs of slowing down. For some reason they had decided to really put the hammer down today. When we came around the curve at the Country Club and the road turned into the wind we knew it was over, so we backed down a notch for the last few miles back. Oh well. It was a good workout anyway.

NOLA November

November is a busy and unpredictable month around here. The weather can be positively spectacular one day, and then the next can be a drippy chilly mess. I always take the weather forecast with a grain or two of salt this time of year. The cold fronts come down in our direction but often as not they slow down and stall out, only to back up and suck a bunch of moisture out of the Gulf of Mexico. This was one of those weekends.

It started on Saturday morning. The forecast was for rain, and lots of it. At 5:45 I looked out the window at the street below and could see it was still fairly dry. I got up and turned on the TV to check the weather radar. It looked really bad. In fact, it looked to me like it should have been raining at that very moment. Everything to the west was green and yellow. Fifteen minutes of contemplation later, I threw in the towel and went back to bed. The Wife and some of the Psych folks were signed up for the Heart Walk charity event in Audubon Park, so I figured I go too and hang around in the drizzle just for kicks. The rain really put a damper on the event, so after standing around in a light drizzle for a few hours, I headed home in search of dry clothes and some plywood. I needed to add about four feet to the dining room table since a lot of family was supposed to be coming over to the house for Thanksgiving. So now the table is ten feet long, which pretty much fills the entire room. The weather remained rather dismal all day, but I was hoping for an improvement in time for the Sunday northshore ride.

Unfortunately, Sunday morning arrived in a cold damp mist. We drove across the lake and, in spite of the weather, had a nice group of fifteen or so for the 65 mile ride. The first ten miles were fairly wet, but eventually the streets dried up a little bit. The ride itself turned out to be pretty good. A bit faster than last week, and including a few fast stretches. The pack split a few times, so I got in some bonus miles by backtracking to pick up the stragglers. Various small groups split off along the way to take shortcuts, so our group kept getting smaller and smaller. On the way back the Watchtower hill split the pack for the final time, so as the others went ahead, I turned around and picked up the next few riders for the last five miles. Overall, I was feeling fairly good.

Less than an hour after getting home, I was showered and on my way to the local Po-Boy festival on Oak Street. Man, it was packed. There was a stage with a band at each end of the street. All along the street were tents of various local restaurants offering their specialty po-boys. You could send in your vote for the winning sandwich by sending a text with the number of the tent where you'd gotten the po-boy. After sampling a couple of them I was getting thirsty, but not quite thirsty enough to spend actual cash for a Miller Lite, so I made my way over to the Maple Leaf thinking I could at least get a decent beer there. Well, I walked into the place about three minutes before the end of the Saints game and couldn't even get close to the bar, so after the Saints won, I bailed. Just after we crossed Carrollton on the way home I heard someone call my name and found Mignon at the St. Andrews school where they were selling food and drinks. Since they were offering Abita Amber for $3 a cup (about half of what it was a block away), I went for it. Better yet, she paid for it since I'd picked up the Causeway toll that morning.

It's been a busy weekend and I have to get up early tomorrow so I can drive to Baton Rouge for a meeting, so I'm officially blowing off all of the things on my list tonight and going to sleep early.

Short Shorts and Long Tights

The wind was gone, the sky was clear, and the temperature was 48ºF when I left the house this morning. Nice. Very nice. Since I'd rather be hot than cold any day of the week, I pulled on the long tights this morning, along with the skullcap and toe-covers. I knew it would warm up quickly, but between pockets and zippers I figured I could adjust. In fact, the first thing I did when I got to the levee where the 6:30 a.m. sun was already over the horizon was stuff the skullcap into my pocket. When Jeff rolled up a moment later he said something to the effect of, "The girls are coming." This development was clearly cause for excitement among the group of regulars who were clearly starving for something - anything - new. I'd have to say that having four attractive women on the morning ride qualified.

The group finally headed out about on time sporting a diverse assemblage of clothing styles ranging from short triathlon shorts to long tights and shoe-covers. Wardrobe selection is a real challenge this time of year and there's rarely a consensus unless the thermometer promises to stay well below 50º for the whole ride. Anyway, the ride itself was quite good today, as most Wednesday rides tend to be. The pace was fairly steady at 21-23 mph with riders taking long smooth pulls at the front. It's amazing how much smoother a ride feels when there's not much wind. It looks like this cool weather will stick around one more day before things start to warm up a bit, but it is clear that we are working our way into our Southern winter now. The ten-day forecast isn't showing anything above 71º and not much in the way of rain until Saturday. If you like riding your bike, this is not the time to be sitting on the couch! We're already talking about next Sunday's northshore ride.

Mother Duck

It was even colder this morning. The temperature again dipped down below 50F, which in my book is somewhere between chilly and cold. Rather than wrestle with the arm-warmers, I broke out the heavy Pearlizumi LS jersey this morning for the first time since spring. A cold front had come through during the night and there was a stiff northwest wind blowing. Apparently it was blowing so hard that it blew most of the usual morning riders right off the levee because there was just a handful today. Luckily, though, Brady was there, and knowing his propensity for self-flagellation, I wasn't surprised when he went to the front and proceeded to tow us like a mother duck halfway to Destrehan before reluctantly pulling over so we could put in our wimpy little one-minute pulls. The whole time he was pulling, everyone else was being very quiet as if they were hoping he'd forget we were back there and keep pulling into the wind.

Although I had skipped the ride on Monday out of sheer laziness, I still felt kind of off-form today and although my brain kept wanting to ride hard, my legs were just not cooperating. It was as if I was dragging anchor all day, even though the wind rarely let me get out of the small chainring. By the time I got home, quite a few minutes later than usual because of the relatively slow ride speed, my feet were still cold. A sign of things to come, I'm afraid. There always comes a time in December when the shoe-covers just stay on the shoes all week. I hate that week. Anyway, despite the big cup of exceptionally strong Starbucks Thanksgiving Blend that I made at home, I felt lousy all day at work too. Then, on the way home I decided to ride down Broadway instead of Pine St. because they've been digging up the intersections on St. Charles and since it was already dark, I figured it would be safer on Broadway. Big mistake. There was a steady stream of cars, all apparently in a big hurry to get home. I ended up plowing right into some kind of crack or pothole that I never saw. Shortly after that, somebody threw open a car door that I narrowly missed. Finally, I got across St. Charles and cut back over to Pine Street. That was just about when my front tire went flat, no doubt pinch-flatted by the aforementioned pothole. So I just limped home on the rim for the next ten blocks. Thump, thump, thump .....

It's already down to 51F around here, so unless some clouds roll in overnight I guess it'll be another morning in the 40s. I can already feel my feet getting cold. Maybe I'll actually have to break down and fire up the central heat soon.

Club Ride Day - Sea of Green

Bicycle racing clubs can seem a bit anti-social sometimes, especially during the racing season. The riders who are able to travel to the area races, most of which consume entire weekends, don't get too many chances to get to know the newer riders who don't or can't. Add to that the various individual constraints on training times, fitness levels, and local geography, and a larger club often ends up with a lot of riders who don't know each other very well. Fortunately, once the racing season and general testosterone levels wind down in October, there are a lot more opportunities for everyone to get together. One of those opportunities was yesterday when we had an NOBC Club Ride over on the northshore. Leading up to the ride day, there seemed to be a fair amount of interest in the ride, but it's always hard to guess who and how many will actually show up for these things. Excuses for not making winter rides are easy to come by, but this time the weather was definitely not one of them. With no rain in the forecast, and northshore temperatures set to rise from the upper 50s to the mid-70s, you really couldn't ask for a better day.

I arrived at the Puccino's parking lot at Lakeside Shopping Center a bit earlier than usual, which is to say, "more than three minutes early." There were already a few people there - Big John, Carin, Mignon, and by the time I'd picked up a cup of coffee, more were arriving, including Mark, John, Brady, and Rich. So we loaded up the Volvo, along with three other cars, and headed north over the lake for the meeting location at Abita Springs. The sky was blue and the temperature was warm enough that I was fully expecting to be riding in just shorts and jersey. By the time we got to the northshore, however, the temperature had dropped over ten degrees and we were driving through some significant fog. I was glad I'd brought the extra jersey and arm-warmers. When we arrived, the place was full of cars and people unloading bikes. Apparently some Crescent City Cyclist riders had organized an impromptu ride starting at the same time. Even so, when our sea of green finally rolled out for our club ride I counted twenty-five, including a lot of riders who we don't normally see on the faster northshore training rides. By the standards of weekend northshore rides on Saints game days, this was huge.

The idea for this ride was basically to enjoy the scenery, keep everyone together, and get a little bit of training on the side. Given the size of the group, I figured that we'd probably split up a bit after the last Enon store stop around mile 40 of the 65 mile route. The ride was really exceptionally good. For the first forty miles the pace remained mostly easy to moderate as planned. Of course, when we got onto that nice fast road back from Plainview to Enon the riders at the front started having a hard time keeping the speed down and some gaps opened up. I'd been expecting that, though, and some of us helped out by pacing some of the small groups back up. Things never did really shatter, though, and everyone arrived at the Enon store for a final break before hitting the Watchtower hill and the last 20 mostly flat miles back to Abita Springs. One thing that was really nice was that we had our own private follow vehicle, a scooter, that would give a little boost to any riders who happened to drop too far off the pace. I think the tandem got an assist on one of the hillier stretches of the route.

As we got close to the Watchtower hill, I looked over at John and commented that this was the famous Watchtower hill. He looked up the road, unimpressed, and said it didn't look too bad. I told him that often, toward the end of long training rides, it was what caused the group to finally split apart for good. Then I rode up toward the front. My plan was to ride a little harder up the hill, just for the training, and then drop back to help whoever might come off the back during the climb. As predicted, by the time I got to the top the group was spread out over a quarter mile of road. I dropped back at one point to help pace Robert and then was surprised when he suddenly came flying past me with the scooter driver pushing him back up to the group at 28 mph. I tried to stay in the draft but they lost me on the next little uphill. There were more riders still behind, though, and eventually we all regrouped a couple of miles later on Tung Road.

After the ride, most of the group walked over to the Abita Brewpub for lunch, where we could also keep track of the Saints game. As I walked in the door Brady handed me a big glass of beer that I think was the AndyGator (http://www.abita.com/brews/andygator.php) which packs a bigger punch than most. It was just what I needed - maybe more. For some reason I hadn't been particularly thirsty or hungry and had finished the 65 miles with practically two full water bottles and an unopened powerbar in my pocked. A few hours later, after a shrimp Po-boy and fries, and back at home, I was surprised to find my legs a little bit sore. I guess that I did a bit more pulling than normal, especially over the last twenty miles or so. Oh well. I'm still in off-season riding mode right now, and I guess that around next weekend I'll start to actually think about training again. For me, that usually just means trying to get in a lot of miles at a moderate pace, working a bit on leg speed and form in smaller gears, and attempting to keep the calorie intake within reason.

A Good Day to Ride

The weather today was about as good as it gets. When I left the house, stuffed into leg and arm-warmers, full gloves and two jerseys, I knew I'd be hot by the time I got back. The sky was clear, the wind was light, and I had no firm plans. I'd hardly taken two pedal strokes when I saw a rider flash down Broadway, a block over to my right. I figured it must be Rob, and indeed we soon met up on Carrollton.

As you'd expect for a great weather day in November, there was a pretty big group for the start of the Giro Ride, and considering the pleasant weather I was figuring it would get fast sooner rather than later. It never quite happened, though. Just as we hit Hayne Blvd. someone flatted and the group slowed down. A couple of guys stopped, but most of the group kept rolling. I guess it was a little too early in the ride to expect everyone to stop. After a few minutes of soft-pedaling, we came to the conclusion that they'd never catch us anyway, and in fact would probably take the Bullard short-cut, so I went to the front and got the pace rolling again. After a while we picked up the guys who had been off the front. Somehow, though, I think that early slowdown kind of took the wind out of everyone's sails. It was so pleasant to roll along at an easy 20 mph that nobody was really interested in pushing things. So that pretty much sums up most of today's ride. There was, of course, a nice little surge for the turnaround, and again for the Goodyear sign, but today they came much later and with less intensity than usual. As you can see from the photos, the locals are very confused about what to wear on days like this. We had everything from knee-warmers (that would be me) to sleeveless tri jerseys.

Finally, halfway down Hayne Blvd. on the way back, the pace started to lift significantly. I guess the group split somewhere along there. I couldn't resist making a couple of hard efforts, sprinting up the two overpasses. (Later, I'd be surprised to find my legs sore.)

After the ride a few of us went across the street to Kona Cafe' for a while, after which I finally headed home down Marconi. Tomorrow we have an NOBC no-drop ride and lunch at Abita Brewpub across the lake that should be pretty nice. It's looking like the weather will cooperate, too. I'm sure winter will eventually get here, but hey, no rush!

Later that afternoon we rode over to Whole Foods on Magazine St. to pick up some oatmeal for cookies. There were bikes everywhere, and when we arrived we were lucky to find a place to lock up the bikes. They were busy setting up the patio for a wine and food tasting event, while inside it was a sea of boots and berets, with the occasional studded dog collar, as usual. Riding home through the old streets, Audubon Park, and Tulane's campus I was reminded once again why I put up with all the city's crap in order to live here.