Cold, Wind and Wine

I started my Saturday with a little pre-dawn time trial, an unintended one, of course. I'd told Jered that I'd meet up with him at the start of the Giro Ride around 6:50 am. That wouldn't ordinarily have been much of a problem, except that a sudden drop in temperature cost me a little extra time spent hunting around for misplaced winter riding gear. Then, when I finally got out the door I was hit in the face with a howling north wind. So despite my best effort, I arrived just barely before the ride started. Luckily he'd already found the mixed tri-road group over at Kona Cafe'. The first part of the ride was a real comedy of errors as the front part of the group refused to believe that the sections of Lakeshore Drive that were under construction were not rideable. We ended up riding up onto the levee, through some mud, and finally turning back and taking Leon C. Simon like we should have in the first place. By then the group had gotten reasonably large despite the cold and wind, and things got quite spread out going over the bridges. Next think I knew, Rob, Brett and Jered are half a minute off the front. When we got close to the end of Hayne Blvd., Jered sat up and came back to the pack for a few minutes. Rob and Brett continued to hammer away off the front. When we made the turn onto Paris Road and picked up a hefty tailwind Jered took off with me on his wheel. I looked down at my computer ,which was showing 32 mph, and thought, "this is a little early for me to be going at an unsustainable pace, and even if we catch those guys, do I really want get myself into that little hammerfest?" So I eased up to wait for the rest of the group which was already starting to shatter.

Rob, Brett and Jered stayed off the front all the way to Venetian Isles despite a pretty good effort from the group. That's about where I made the questionable decision to go with them to Fort Pike. On windy, cloudy day, the ride down that stretch of featureless asphalt can be very long indeed, but I had a Powerbar in my pocket and enough time, so I figured, "What the hell?" Actually, considering the wind and all it was not all that bad of a ride. After we turned around we picked up Mignon who had been with Jon behind us, but Jon made the fateful decision to continue on solo to get in the extra miles. He would end up splitting the sidewall on a tire, going through two tubes, and walking the last eight miles home. Our group stayed together, although a fast stretch near the end of Chef Highway almost split it. Toward the end of the ride Brett and Rob kept us entertained by attacking each other. By then I was mostly in survival mode, sucking wheels unabashedly. Anyway, by the time I got home with 80+ miles the I was seriously questioning my ability to make rational decisions.

That evening was the annual NOBC party, so I went out and picked up the drinks and was over at the rooftop party room at 123 Walnut right on time. The party was nice. As usual we had maybe thirty or thirty-five people there. It seemed that red wine was popular this year. Perhaps it was because it was so cold outside.

This morning I got up at 5:45, which usually gives me plenty of time to get over to Puccino's for 7 am. However, when I checked my cellphone, which I had accidentally left in "vibrate" mode, there were two messages from one of the guys saying his wife may have left her wallet at the party. So I rushed over there to check, only to later find out that someone else had found it when we were cleaning up the night before and had subsequently contacted them. Anyway, it was really cold (around 36F I guess) and really windy and my legs were a bit stiff as I drove across the causeway alone to meet the Northshore ride.

Having polished off my share of wine the night before, I was having some serious doubts about this ride. We started off straight into a strong north wind and I knew immediately that my legs had not recovered. It was still overcast and grey and as soon as we got going the conversation stopped as our 7-rider paceline plowed ahead. For the first 25 miles I was pretty miserable. My legs were hurting on every little hill, so I started taking shorter pulls. Luckily, the weather and wind sucked most of the aggressiveness out of the rest of the group, so the ride was pretty steady. Eventually the sun came out, which made a huge difference, and as I started to warm up, my legs finally came around to where I wasn't too worried about getting dropped.

Not Bad ... for a Friday

After feeling rather miserable all day yesterday, the fog in my head finally started to lift some time around 8 pm. Perhaps it was just a little sinus irritation taking its natural course, but I prefer to believe it was that bottle of Rogue Mocha Porter I had about that time. The 2010 LAMBRA event permits are just pouring in right now -- all four of them. The Shreveport and Monroe races are permitted and Rouge-Roubaix and Rocky Mount are pending. Our Commissioner of Officials is about to buy an official LAMBRA laptop (now that the Vista threat is behind us), and I'm looking into getting replacement parts for some of our broken stuff. Maybe I'll even find a decent bell! The NOBC has a great bell that has been with us since the 70s. I'm quite sure that riders like John Howard and Wayne Stetina sprinted to its sound. Back then, bells like that were commonplace at schools, and one could find a nice selection at the local school supply store. Nowadays, however, it's kind of hard to find a good utilitarian bell. You can find lots of small pretty decorative ones, but it's actually a bit of a challenge to find a good loud bell that will survive a few years of bike races.

So anyway, yesterday night I went over to the Reily Center and did the first Spin class I've done it maybe two years. Naturally my least favorite instructor was there. He's the one who seems to think "sprint" means sit down and push a huge gear, "rest" means stand up and bounce, and that the two activities should be done at 10-second intervals. If I'd listened to half of what he said my back would be screwed up, my legs would be sore, and I'd have a pulled hamstring. (I speak from experience.) His typical class includes pretty much everything I should NOT be doing for actual training this time of year. So I just ignore him and do more or less what I feel like doing. I'm sure it drives him nuts, but then so does the crappy RAP music he plays. I think I can successfully avoid him on Monday and Wednesday anyway, and I'll probably just do Spin classes on other days when the weather is really bad or some other complication keeps me from riding.

Compared to yesterday, it was easy to get out of bed this morning. Partly because I was feeling relatively normal, and partly because the temperature was in the 60s. I checked the radar because the sky was cloudy, but the real rain was still a long way away. As usual, the Friday group was pretty small. Like four or five riders. Tim and Woody were there ahead of their weekend Herring Gas training camp up in Natchez. The importance of knowing when the Herring training camp is actually mostly of meteorological significance. Based on its long history, there's about an 80% chance of severe miserable weather on whatever weekend they select. Our own training camp will be later, at the end of February. Anyway, I had to chuckle to myself this morning as we rode along with Woody and Tim in front and me kind of tucked in-between them. Woody has commented before that Tim tends to unconsciously half-wheel whoever he's next to, carrying on a conversation the whole time while looking over his shoulder. I think we rode about ten miles exactly like that this morning. When we hit the headwind on the way back, the effort level went up a couple of notches, so it ended up being not quite a recovery ride. This was good for me since I didn't really have anything from which to recover!

Woke up this morning .....

When I woke up this morning I knew something wasn't right. The dull headache I'd had the evening before was still there and I had a hard time convincing myself to get out of bed. Somehow, however, I got myself out the door and onto the bike, but I knew immediately there was a problem. I think my crucial mistake was that I failed to overdress. I rode four or five blocks, felt chilled, and turned around. When I got back home I climbed back into bed still wearing my shorts, tights and jersey, and did twenty miles of sleeping.

Hopefully it's just some sinus thing that will resolve itself over the course of the day. Since my morning routine was already out the window, I swung by the Reily Center, got a Spinning Pass for the semester, and optimistically signed up for the 6:45 pm class this evening. So after a couple of Sudafeds, an Advil, and two cups of coffee I'm feeling a little bit wired but definitely not good. Not good at all.

Long Task List

I slept late on Monday, quite confident that my legs had earned their day off after a good solid weekend. Although I'd cleaned off the bike and lubed the chain after Sunday's ride, I had, in typical fashion, neglected to to through my bag to sort out the weekend's collection of arm-warmers, sweaty jerseys, nasty gloves, etc. So when I got ready to ride this morning I had to spend some time rummaging through all of that to pull out what I needed. The lights had to be put back onto the bike, the least offensive gloves had to be identified, the glasses had to be cleaned, etc. You get the picture. Yeah, I was running late. Luckily, the group was still sitting up on the levee, deep in conversation, when I arrived. This was good, because I really wasn't feeling up to a long chase in the dark. I'd slept particularly poorly and wasn't feeling very sharp at all.

For a Tuesday ride, today's was on the mild side. Brady and Matt and a couple others were pushing the pace just a bit, but otherwise it was just smooth paceline out and back. Today the sky was clear and it was easy to tell that sunrise is finally starting to catch up with the 6:15 am ride. When we turned around out at Ormond, we had the rising sun directly in our faces. Damn, I can't wait until Spring when I no longer need to check the outdoor thermometer before getting dressed.

I myself was kind of preoccupied with a long task list involving stuff at work, stuff at home, and stuff related to cycling. Lots of conflicting stuff. The annual NOBC club party is this weekend, so there's a little stuff I have to take care of for that. My mother is out of town and so her dog will be staying with us for a few days. The back door is still in need of repair. There are still some loose ends with the insurance company. The district attorney's office still hasn't called me back about the burglary. I need to update the LCCS rules and regulations once we settle the issue of how exactly to score the combined Cat. 3/4 races this year. Mardi Gras is fast approaching and I'd like to get a mattress and foundation for the "new" bed that we want to put into The Daughter's room so that at least a couple of guests can sleep in relative comfort. The Tulane Cycling Club is working on getting some sponsorship and jerseys, etc., etc., etc., and that's just the non-work related stuff. I hate multitasking. Yesterday I got everything switched over on the LAMBRA website and with USAC so that our new Upgrade Coordinator, Rich Adair, can take over those duties from Shane this year. It was a fairly involved process, actually, but the way it is now set up will make it really easy to transfer those duties to the next (ahem...) volunteer.

Right now I'm about to hop on the bike and ride down to 3901 Baronne St. to take a few photos of the original New Orleans Bicycle Club clubhouse. The Martins (of Martin's Wine Cellar) have recently submitted an application to demolish the 1890 building, and assuming it's approved, I thought we should at least get a decent photo of it for posterity. Since the weather today is so spectacular, I figured now would be the time. Besides, I'm hungry.

A Hard Ride and the Unbelievable

Well, the unbelievable has just happened. The Saints won the NFC Championship. In overtime. Forty-three years after they first took the field at Tulane stadium. I'm sitting here at home, a few miles from the stadium, and I can hear fireworks and car horns and people screaming in the street. If my legs weren't so sore from this morning's ride, I might have actually jumped up and down.

When I woke up this morning at 5:45 I could hear the rain falling on the street outside the window. The forecast had been uncertain for days, so I was more disappointed than surprised. I fired up the computer to check the radar and it looked encouraging. A few text messages were exchanged and by 6:40 I was on my way to Puccino's. By 6:50 I was on I-10 in torrential rain watching the traction control warning light flash on and off as I hydroplaned in the general direction of Causeway Boulevard.

Luckily, that was the last of the rain and by the time we were loaded up, caffeinated, and on the causeway things were looking a whole lot better. The temperature was in the 60s, and although the streets were still good and wet, I was looking forward to a good hard ride -- in shorts! I think it was the first time I'd ridden without something covering my knees in a couple of months. We had around fifteen for today's northshore ride, and with Woody and Kenny there I figured we wouldn't be taking too many prisoners. Robert M was there on his new bike looking very much like an experienced veteran rather than a 14 year old junior. There was a lot of horsepower in the group and although everyone was clearly trying to keep it smooth and steady for the first half of the ride, we were definitely going a bit faster than usual. My legs were feeling pretty good, but I was trying to be conservative at first because I wasn't quite sure just when, or how hard, they'd put the hammer down later in the ride. I think Woody must have been on the front for at least 80% of the time today.

It being January, the ride's traditional sprint zones were in effect today, and while only a few of the guys went for each of them, they still served to spice up the ride. When we got to the turn onto Hwy. 10 pretty much everyone was still there, so after a very brief stop for clothing adjustments, we headed out onto the really meaty part of the course. I was a little surprised that there wasn't a big attack on that first long curving climb on 439. I think the group remained intact after that one, but the strain was starting to show. There are a couple more rather steep little climbs along that stretch and those finally split the group. Mignon had said she was going to stay with Robert, and everyone else, we thought, knew the course, so when we came to the turn onto Sie Jenkins Road we just eased up for a minute or so. Anyone who was more than a minute back was on his own.

What can I say about the rest of the ride? It was great. Fast but not impossible, with a few sprints thrown in for good measure, and a good effort up and over the Watchtower hill. And at the end, thanks to Mignon, there was king cake!

So I started writing this a few minutes after the Saints game ended. Outside there's still nonstop cacophony of car horns and fireworks as ecstatic fans head home, or to the French Quarter where it already looks like Mardi Gras night. It'll be hard to go back to work tomorrow......

Unchained Giro

I had a feeling it would be a fast one. The warmer weather and approaching racing season had been stirring the pot for a few days now, and it was almost inevitable that it would all come together on the weekend's local group ride.

The group was already big when I merged into it on Lakeshore Drive, and by the time we started up the Seabrook bridge I guess it numbered about 50. Some new levee and road work had required the Giro to take a little detour on its way to the bridge, one that will probably be necessary for the next couple of months, at least. It is really amazing that the full length of Lakeshore Drive has never been open since Katrina, and now we have this new work being done near Elysian Fields Avenue that will probably mess things up even more.

Up at the top of the Seabrook bridge there's a metal grate that is notoriously slippery when wet, and today it was quite damp. Most riders dismounted to walk across it while the others pedaled gingerly across. I was feeling pretty good and was looking forward to a good workout. It didn't take long to get one, either.

Soon after we came down onto Hayne Blvd. the morning Amtrak train passed us up on the levee. They see our group every Saturday morning and I've now got them trained so they blow their whistle for us even if I don't signal them. I think that's kind of neat. Anyway, pretty soon the speed jumped up suddenly and basically never went back down. The whole way down Hayne I never got anywhere near the front. I remember asking someone, "just who's driving this train?" The riders were kind of out of control today. As we made the turn onto Paris I saw Woody and Rob up on the front. Anyway, the speed stayed up there in the high 20s all the way to Chef Highway. That's when the trouble started. Well, at least for me. There were a few cars coming from the left when we hit the intersection and the front half of the group blew right through. I was about in the middle and had to stop because it was clear that the pickup barrelling toward us wasn't going to. When I did, everyone behind me turned left onto the shoulder of the oncoming traffic lane and kept going, against traffic, eventually crossing back over to the other side of the median. I, however, was kind of stuck and by the time I got across the road the group was already pretty far down the road. I made an effort to close, but I was riding right into a headwind and it was quickly clear that I wasn't going to catch.

So I had a long slog into the wind at 20 mph until I could meet up with the group at the turnaround. Well, at least the ones who didn't go all the way out to Fort Pike. Not to worry, though. We had some good fast sections on the way back, and after sprinting up the overpass and the Seabrook bridge, I rode home feeling pretty satisfied.

Now I'm looking forward to the northshore ride tomorrow morning and hoping that the weather forecast is on target.

Fog Season

It's a wonderful thing when you can step out the door on a January morning to find the temperature in the 60s. Unfortunately, that sort of wonderfulness often comes with fog, especially along the river where all that frigid northern water is rushing down toward the Gulf of Mexico. I guess some would think me crazy to have gone out today wearing knee and arm-warmers, but I've been lured into wearing summer clothes in January before and it doesn't always turn out very well.

I was feeling rather tired this morning, which probably had something to do with the fact that I hadn't gone to sleep until after midnight. I knew I shouldn't have had that second cup of coffee in the afternoon! Perhaps I should explain. You see, for me, coffee is mostly just a readily available hot liquid that's necessary in order to create a supersaturated sucrose solution. When the barista asks if I need room for cream, I just tell him to make sure there's enough room for sugar. Turbinado sugar, dissolved in a fresh aqueous extract of the berries of the coffea bush. One of the consequences of drinking coffee without milk (yes, I'm a bit on the lactose-intolerant side) is that a small (aka "tall") cup of coffee makes for a pretty hefty dose of caffeine.

So anyway, tired or not, I showed up for the morning ride which started out with a bit of a tailwind. Every mile or so the speed would notch up just a tiny bit more until, by the time we were at Williams Blvd., we were cruising along comfortably at 26-27 mph. Between there and the turnaround we gradually ramped it all the way up to 31 or so. The whole time it was just getting more and more foggy, however. As it turned out, I was quite comfortable and happy that I'd gone with that little bit of extra clothing.

Of course the return trip wasn't quite so fast, but we did have a nice rotation going almost the whole way, so the speed stayed up around 23 mph. Under the circumstances, that required a pretty decent effort for whoever was on the front. Somewhere out on the road yesterday my trusty Campagnolo Ergobrain hit 95,000 miles. Amazing that thing's still going considering all of the road trips, dripping sweat, rainstorms, crashes and Rouge-Roubaixs it's been exposed to.


Back at home I scavenged around for something to eat, which ended up being a handful of milk chocolate silver bells, while I brewed up some coffee to take with me to the office. For years I've been using a nice little stainless steel travel mug that I can put into my messenger bag. It seals really well and has never leaked. Well, not until today. When I lifted it out of my bag at work I knew immediately that something was wrong. For one thing, it wasn't heavy enough. For another, it was wet. Crap. A good half-cup of coffee had escaped into the depths of my bag, most of which had been conveniently soaked up by a small wool scarf that I had in there. Oh well. Guess it's time to empty out the bag and give it a good cleaning anyway.


So after the recent flurry of emails on the NOBC list regarding RoadID, and being the experimental sort, I recently ordered the competing product, VitalID, through the USAC website (to get the discount). Aside from the fact that I couldn't see wearing what amounts to a dog collar around my ankle all the time, the VitalID was cheaper. So I filled in the emergency contact information and stuck it to my helmet. Actually I stuck it sort of inside one of the vents where it's easy to see but out of the way. I like that it's reflective, too. Now I'm just hoping that it never needs to be used, as in, "Oh look, his name must have been Randy." Anyway, for $10 is seemed like it might be helpful. I've been rendered unconscious only once, the result of a little tangle during one of the weekday training races a number of years back. In that case there were lots of people around who knew me and once I regained semi-consciousness I was promptly dumped into someone's car and deposited at home, only to be immediately taken to the ER for the requisite CAT scan. At least that's what they tell me . . . . .

Obstacles

The streets were dark and just a bit foggy this morning as I worked my way through the battered streets of Carrollton. In addition to the normal assortment of potholes and water leaks, the neighborhood has lately been dealing with a flurry of road work. Indeed, the rest of the city is not immune from this development. A convergence of the "submerged streets program," the federal Stimulus Package, and the upcoming elections has resulted in a real heyday for the road and levee construction industries. Here in the uptown area St. Charles Avenue has been all torn up for weeks, and just yesterday they started tearing up Carrollton as well. Of course this particular rain cloud has its silver lining, in this case the promise of fresh asphalt and some long-awaited bike lane markers. Meanwhile, out on Lakeshore Drive they're about to start tearing up the road near Elysian Fields Avenue and the Seabrook loop, which will eventually necessitate a little detour for the weekend Giro Rides. The price of progress, I suppose. I just wish they'd sprinkle a little bit of that progress on Pine Street to make my daily commute a little less painful.

So the long levee ride had a good turnout today -- maybe fifteen riders at the start. I sat on the front for a long time as we rolled out from the start, but once I dropped back down the long line of riders the pace started to lift. When I saw Woody and Tim move up the side of the group to the front I figured it would get even faster. The only problem was that once we reached the Country Club we found ourselves in a pretty good fog, not that anyone ever seems to slow down for that. Anyway, I was pretty much stuck near the back of the paceline and unwilling to risk life and limb to move up until visibility improved. That was OK, though, because I was getting quite enough work anyway. After Tim and Woody pulled off to go home around The Dip, the pace slowed down a bit and the paceline finally started rotating all the way through. By then the sun was coming up and the air was beginning to warm up. In fact, I think the temperature today ultimately got up to around 70F.

On the way home I thought it was a perfect day for a stop at Zotz for a cup of coffee, so John and I sat out on Oak Street for a while enjoying the nice weather and chatting with this older guy who started a conversation by asking John, who was wearing shoe-covers, where he got those shoes. This 75-year-old turned out to have a son who had run track at Cal Tech or something. He asked us why he never sees any bike races in town. Good question.

Once I was fully caffeinated I headed home, getting stuck on Carrollton Avenue for a while because the construction crew had all of the side streets blocked off. Looks like I'm going to have to make some little changes to my usual route for the next couple of months. Anyway, I hadn't been at the office for half an hour when I got a call telling me that the afternoon meeting in Baton Rouge that we'd been working on for half of last week had been abruptly cancelled by the state senator with whom we were supposed to be meeting. Damn. Back to square one. Again.....

A Very Long Way Back

I knew the minute I got on the bike Sunday that I was overdressed, and by the time I was halfway to Lakeshore Drive the vest was already stuffed in my jersey pocket. It was looking like it would be a pretty nice day except for one little thing. There was a wind blowing strongly out of the northwest and as the Giro group came together along the lakefront I remarked to someone that everybody was going to feel like Superman on the way out. For some reason, the group was a little sluggish getting started, though, perhaps because of an early stop for a flat tire at Elysian Fields Avenue. I was looking for a little more of a workout, especially since I was already missing out on my usual northshore training ride because of a party I had to attend in Slidell later in the day. Somehow I ended up way off the front with Brady as we climbed the Casino bridge. We even stopped for a moment at the top, thinking that perhaps there had been another flat. It wasn't that we were going particularly fast, just that the group was going particularly slowly. So we rolled along down Hayne waiting for the group to catch up with us, but it didn't go quite as I'd expected. Instead, Woody came up to us and just kind of kept on going. I backed off a bit, and then VJ appeared with Mignon and I think someone else, and pretty soon the rest of the group showed up. I could see Brady and Woody way up the road, and I have to admit I was kind of glad I hadn't stayed with them because I had a feeling they wouldn't be letting up any time soon. Before we got to the end of Hayne Blvd., I think our group was already starting to come apart, though.

It didn't take long for our group's pace to start ramping up even more. There was definitely a bit of a chase going on, and although the speed stayed in the 27-30 mph range all the way down the service road and Chef Highway, Woody and Brady just kept pulling slowly away. I knew that a lot of riders were planning on doing the long ride out to Ft. Pike or Slidell, and I wondered if they realized the kind of headwind they'd be dealing with on the way home. I sure was. When we finally reached Venetian Isles, I was the only one in the front group to turn around, and I remember thinking that some of those guys were going to find it to be a very long way back to Lakeshore Drive that day. Indeed, Brady later said he'd ended up with over 100 miles for th e day by the time he got home.

Eventually the next group arrived and turned around, so Jay and I waited up for them. With a headwind like that, the more wheels the better! As I'd expected, the ride back was long and hard, and we struggled sometimes to hold 17 mph. I definitely got in that workout I'd been looking for. I'd have preferred to have been battling the wind up across the lake in the piney woods, but hey, sometimes you just have to take what you can get.

A Gap on the Radar

I went to bed Friday night with little hope of being able to ride at all on Saturday. The forecast offered nothing better than a 70% chance of rain. Sure enough, at 6:00 am the streets were soaking wet. I turned off the alarm and went back to sleep, finally rolling out of bed around 8:30 am. I checked the radar on the computer, only to get a full screen of green. An hour later, however, there was still no rain actually falling and upon checking the radar again around 10 am, I could see that there was a clear gap in the rain with the city right in the middle of it. So I sent out a quick note on Facebook and planned to try for a ride at 11.

As I rode out to the levee I was surprised by how wet the roads still were. I'd thought they would be drying out by then, but alas, I was sadly mistaken. "I should have ridden the rain bike," I thought. What didn't surprise me, though, was that there wasn't anyone else up on the levee when I first arrived, but a couple of minutes later I ran into Mignon. Somewhere out past River Ridge we ran into a fog bank, and from there all the way out to The Dip it was basically like riding in a light rain. I was glad I'd anticipated getting wet and had dressed pretty warmly. By the time we were halfway back I could feel the water sloshing around between my toes. I could also feel my front tire going flat. Cold and wet, I had to stop and change the tube. While I was doing that Mignon was trying to deal with a problem contact lens that ultimately ended up falling out of her hand onto the wet asphalt below. It was impossible to find it, of course. Anyway, by the time I got home I was rather chilled but otherwise glad I'd managed to take advantage of the gap in the radar to get in a couple of solid hours on the bike.


Like everyone else in the city, I ended up in front of the TV later in the afternoon to watch the Saints game. Unfortunately, somewhere around halftime there was a loud "boom" a block down the street and the lights went out. So for the next two hours I was without power, sitting on the couch watching the text updated of the game on the Blackberry by candlelight. I'm pretty sure the Entergy guys waited until almost the end of the game before they came out to fix the blown transformer. Can't say I blamed them.


Tomorrow will be a Giro Ride for me because I have to be someplace by 1 pm. At least the weather should be better!

Weather Pendulum

For those of us afflicted with acute intolerance for indoor cycling, this time of year is really all about the weather. Although it's nearly time to start lifting the training intensity a bit, especially if Rouge-Roubaix is on one's calendar, most rides over the last month and a half have been more about saddle time and scenery than wattage and muscle damage. The last two weeks have presented a bit of a challenge even for the most stalwart winter cyclists. Today, however, the weather pendulum finally started to swing noticeably the other way, and for those of us who spend all winter getting whipped around at the end of that long shaft it came as a welcome relief. It was still rather chilly by New Orleans standards, but at least I was finally back to wearing my normal winter wardrobe. The insulated skullcap from Iowa and the wind-resistant shell gloves stayed at home this morning for the first time in nearly a week.

Today's long levee ride started out with about a dozen riders, and with the wind gradually shifting around to the ESE we had a little bit of tailwind most of the way out to the turnaround at Ormond Plantation. (Hopefully I won't get in trouble for using the "P" word.) The slightly warmer weather had my legs feeling kind of happy today, and by the time we were halfway out I'd already started some strategic unzipping to keep the sweat accumulation down below the cold and clammy level. For pretty much the whole way out we had a nice smooth paceline that was comfortably rolling along at around 23 mph. Every time the speed would ramp up closer to 24 I'd feel the urge to shift to the big ring, but I never did until well after the turnaround when my legs were starting to get a little tired. It always feels nice to shift to a larger gear for a while when you're nicely protected at the back of the paceline.

I was already thinking about that cup of hot coffee at Zotz when we were still five miles from the ride's end. For the past week I'd been skipping my coffee stop because it was still too cold to make the brief stop worthwhile. Today, though I happily sat outside on Oak Street sipping my coffee and checking my email. Oh, yeah, I got a replacement BlackBerry Bold, so I'm plugged back into the Matrix again. But, getting back to important topics like the weather, tomorrow should be really nice and then it all kind of falls apart late Friday night and Saturday with a high probability of rain ahead of our next little cold front. In the meantime, I'll just keep hanging on to that pendulum and hoping for the best.

Slow Warming

Tuesday morning it was still in the low 30s, but at the house, at least, it was a couple of degrees above freezing for a change. There was a thick frost on the cars lining the street as I took of in the dark for the levee. We were expecting the weather to start a slow warming trend. That was good. Also good was the fact that my legs felt none the worse for the weekend's wear, and even better, there was barely any wind. So I guess I was a little surprised that we had only a handful of riders. Well, OK, not all that surprised. I mean, it was still pretty damned cold, and there was still a lot of ice edging the water on the batture. As it turned out, though, the light wind and small group made for a really smooth paceline ride.

If only the rest of the day had gone as smoothly. First off, my Blackberry apparently died in its sleep. If you've been trying to call me, well, it may be a couple of days before I get back to you. With the plan that Tulane has, I can't even check my own voicemail without a new phone or somebody else's phone with my SIM card in it. Anyway, it was a busy day at work and afterward we thought we'd go over to the mayoral debate that Tulane was holding at 7:30. Well, around 7:45 they announced that all the candidates were still at Dillard where their mayoral forum, which was basically all about race, was running way overtime but the media coverage was so juicy I guess nobody was willing to say stop. So basically most of the auditorium walked out since it was going to be another hour before the candidates arrived. As I learned later, only the minor candidates ever made it over to Tulane.

Water and Ice

The plan for Sunday was not unlike Saturday's. Neither was the weather. This time we were to meet at the Starbucks in Lakeview for 10 am, so I headed out from the house around 9:15 so I'd have time for a cup of coffee first. The temperature was still a few degrees below freezing, leaving little patches of ice here and there in the gutter, but I was fairly well-attired and suffered more from the wind than the cold. By the time we finally rolled out from Starbucks there were about a dozen of us sporting all manner of cold-weather wardrobe improvisations. The wind was maybe a bit lighter than Saturday, but it was looking like it would be a battle in the crosswinds for the most part. The group was kind of a mixed bag today with some riders already committed to turning back early and others, like me, wanting to do a long ride if, and only if, there would be a few others with whom to share the work.

As we rode down old Highway 90 out toward Chef Menteur and Venetian Isles I started to warm up pretty well as the pace went up a notch. I eased to the back to pull off my chest protector. It turned out to be quite a job since it was buried beneath two zippers. It must have taken me three or four minutes to get that thing over my head, stuff it into a pocket, and re-zip. Actually, I was feeling warm enough at that point that I left my long-sleeve jersey unzipped, protected only by my vest. For the rest of the ride I regulated my temperature by zipping and unzipping the vest.

By the time we crossed the Chef bridge headed for Fort Pike, we were down to just six riders. Everyone was pretty much on the same page, however, and we kept an even pace all the way out with the stronger riders pulling longer and the weaker ones less. Other than the fact that it was freezing cold and windy, and there were ice cubes forming in my water bottle, the weather was beautiful and the traffic was light, making it a pretty good day for a Fort Pike ride. So we all rode over big new bridge over the Rigolets, stopping at the top to take photos or just enjoy the scenery. It's kind of scary when you're up there and you realize how thin and fragile that little strip of roadway looks. We really do live on an island because that really doesn't quite count as "land."

As we made our way back toward town my legs started getting heavier and heavier. I battled with zippers and jersey pockets and finally retrieved the powerbar I'd brought along. Kenny, however, had started out without anything and by the time we were getting close to the service road he was starting to bonk. I guess we'd been out at least three hours at that point and still had close to twenty miles to go (I had around 85 on the computer when I got home), so we stopped at the gas station on Bullard to refuel.

So anyway, the last few days have been pretty challenging, and it looks like the next two mornings will also be in the low 30s before things start to return to normal around here. I think the novelty of riding in the cold is beginning to wear a little thin, so I'm already looking forward to the luxury of riding in the relatively balmy upper 30s and low 40s that are more typical this time of year. I think that whether or not I ride tomorrow morning will depend a lot on how my legs feel when I wake up.

Plan B

I don't know if anyone showed up for the 7 am Giro Ride this morning, but if anyone did, I certainly hope he had a good excuse. The night before I had decided to go with Plan B, which was to wait until 10:00 when the temperature would hopefully be above the freezing point of water. When I arrived at the meeting spot on the levee, a mere two minutes early, nobody was there, but a minute later Ed N. rode up, and a minute after that we saw Mignon coming our way. So we headed out, picking up Kenny and Jered (who I think had just arrived in town the day before). I guess the temperature was right around 32F and there was a lot of ice visible down on the batture, but at least the sun was shining. That always makes a cold ride feel better. Shortly after we got started, Ed stopped suddenly to fix something on his bike. We eased up for a minute and the last time I saw him he was about fifteen seconds behind us and closing fast. A couple of minutes later we realized he was gone again, but this time he was nowhere in sight. I still don't know what happened to him. Anyway, Kenny and Jered stayed on the front for probably ten miles, which was pretty nice since it was one of those relentless crosswind days on the levee. I was not really liking the wind today, but on the plus side I'd apparently put on just the right wardrobe was otherwise pretty comfortable.

So Plan B netted me I guess 45 miles or so, which I though was pretty good under the circumstances because if I'd had to go out solo today I probably wouldn't have made more than 25.

After I got back home the neighbor called because one of the pipes under her house had frozen and split. All I could do was confirm that the icicle hanging from her plumbing was indeed due to a split copper pipe. I was a little surprised because although the temperature had gotten down into the upper 20s, it had only been that cold for maybe four hours. Problem was, this particular pipe was right under the edge of the north side of the house, so it got the full effect of the north wind. Lesson learned.

Tomorrow looks like another 10 am start, this time from the Starbucks on Harrison and heading out to do the Giro route, probably with an extension out to Fort Pike or Slidell. Should be interesting.

Winter on the Levee

The alarm went off and I looked over at to check the outdoor temp. Almost 31ºF. No problem. Perhaps I'm beginning to acclimate, at least psychologically, to winter. On the other hand, perhaps I'm just demented or obsessive or the victim of some other psychiatric malady. Shorts, knee-warmers, tights, jersey, arm-warmers, jersey, jacket, vest, socks, shoes, toe-covers, shoe-covers, regular gloves, long gloves, shell gloves, skullcap, helmet, glasses. Winter riding is so complicated. At least when the temp is this low, the wind this strong, and the wardrobe this limited, there are fewer decisions to make.

The sun was still 30 minutes east of the horizon, but as I looked up through the canopy of oak trees I could see that the sky was clear. So were the body fluids flowing copiously from my nose and eyes. I was reasonably warm and comfortable when I arrived at the levee, but I knew from experience that the comfort level would start dropping rather quickly after the first 45 minutes when my face, feet and arms would start feeling the real chill. The bike path was as I'd expected. Grey, windy, deserted -- completely deserted. I was nearly ten miles out before I saw the first person, a large guy bundled up in a big coat and scarf walking slowly downriver. I turned around just before Williams Blvd., knowing I'd be battling headwinds and crosswinds much of the way back. He was still walking when I passed him again.

I picked up a little tailwind for a mile or two, but then as I rounded the bend at the country club, where the river turns sharply to toward the north-northeast, I moved my hands to the drops, took one last glance at the deserted path ahead of me, and lowered my head for that long drag into the wind. I passed one other person, a guy walking his dog down on concrete levee apron where he could stay protected from the wind without having to walk through the damp grass and lightly frozen puddles on the batture.

Though it was a cold and windy ride, it was nice to be out alone with the bike path all to myself for a change. Now the question is, 'what will tomorrow's ride bring?' It's only 34º right now at 12:30 pm and the forecast calls for a low tonight of 26º with 10-20 mph winds. It's not looking good for the 7 am Giro Ride. Perhaps I should float the idea of an alternate ride at a more reasonable hour. I'm kind of surprised nobody else has.

Wild Weather

The forecast for today called for a high of 55F. Currently it's 61F. The low tonight is supposed to be 28, which apparently justifies the four "local alerts" showing up on The Weather Channel website right now.

So at 6 am this morning I rolled out onto the damp street where the temperature hovered somewhere in the low 40s and wondered, once again, if I'd be riding alone. It looked like there had already been a little rain, but the street wasn't quite wet enough to generate wheel spray, so I figured I'd try and get in a few miles regardless. Apparently I wasn't the only one. We ended up with four or five, and out at the turnaround we picked up Dave who had ridden from Ormond. He'd been expecting to turn around and ride back upriver with us, but by then a light rain was already falling and we had planned to turn around at the parish line. He turned around again and rode back with us in the drizzle, which meant he'd have a 21 mile solo ride in a light rain to get back home. Halfway back we picked up Erich and Woody who had gone out earlier on their track bikes. This all worked out pretty well because it gave us more people to share the headwind with. By the time I got home the fronts of my legs were pretty cold from the combination of rain and temperature, even though I was wearing long tights, so I was glad we hadn't decided to try for the full long Thursday ride.

I have no idea what the next few days have in store for us. All I know for sure is that it will be good and cold (in the upper 20s) for at least the next three mornings, so all bets are off as to who, if anyone, will show up for any of the regular group rides. I guess it's time to go sign up for those Spinning classes again . . . . .

Ice on the Batture

It was another cold one this morning, and although I was awake in plenty of time, the whole wardrobe selection process took so long that I was late getting to the levee bike path. I reluctantly pulled up my sleeve, pushed down my glove and glanced at my watch. Hmmm. Two minutes late. Two minutes can be a very, very long time when it defines the gap between you and the riders ahead of you. As it had the day before, much of the shallow standing water along the batture had a thin layer of ice along the edges. Way, way up the road I could barely make out something that seemed to be moving fast enough to be a bike, but I couldn't even tell if it was a single rider or a small group. Considering the 31 degree temperature, all I knew for sure was that it wasn't a big group. Over the next seven or eight miles I slowly but surely started to close the gap, and by the time I was approaching Williams Blvd., I could see that there were two riders. The one in yellow looked like John. I finally made contact with John and Jay shortly before the turnaround, and realized that I should have started unzipping my vest a lot earlier. My base layer, otherwise known as an old jersey, was already wet with sweat, but at least the effort had warmed me up.

The ride back was, as it had been the prior day, harder. There was still a brisk east northeast wind making us work for most of the return trip. I got home feeling rather energetic, though, and whipped up a quick omelet for breakfast before rushing off to work.

Later in the day a couple of emails alerted me to a news report on the WWL website about a homeless man who had been caught, stolen laptop in hand, by the police. He'd admitted to breaking into something like 25 homes over the past couple of months, stealing items to sell or trade for drugs. My house was one of those on the list. I'm glad that the police caught him and are able to connect him with the rash of break-ins, and I guess I can take some comfort in not having to worry about him coming back any time soon. Life in the big city . . . . .

The Hard Months

January and February always seem to be the hardest months. The weather is often cold and windy, the days short and the motivation shorter. Unfortunately, these are also two of the most critical months for training "down south" where the racing starts early and is in full swing by early April. If you procrastinate too long you find yourself struggling through the early races and then finally coming into top form just in time for the mid-summer lull when the real heat starts to take the starch out of both the promoters and the riders. So with that in mind, I piled on the clothes this morning and stepped out into the 30-degree air to ride over to the levee. It was, of course, dark and windy, and the streets were deserted, and as I rode though the neighborhood streets contemplating the wind chill, I figured the bike path would equally deserted. So I was already braced for a cold lonely ride when I was surprised to find Erich up there right on time. Well, I guess he was on time. My watch was buried under two or three layers and I wasn't inclined to dig it out. We waited a minute for Woody, and the three of us headed out with a nice little tailwind to take the chill out of the first three miles. Just as we got to the Playground we spotted a blinky light down on River Road and knew immediately it must be Donald. Since four bikes are always better than three on a cold windy day, we waited for him to catch up before continuing. It would be a shortened ride today, and nobody was complaining about it. With our southern winter wardrobes and easy pace, we knew our feet would only be good for about an hour, so we turned around at the parish line. There was a pretty good wind that we had to deal with on the way back, so although the ride was short and relatively easy, we all did a good bit of work on the way home.

It's not looking like we'll get much relief from the early morning chill this week. Aside from Thursday the morning ride temperatures will range from 30 to 25 from now until Sunday. It might be time for me to go sign up for those Spin classes again.....

Northern Cold, Southern Chill

When I went outside to start up the car Saturday morning, I was surprised. For one, I was surprised to see a number like -14º F on the car thermometer. For another, I was surprised that cars actually start in those kinds of temperatures. Over the prior couple of days in IC, I'd already learned that car heaters take at least fifteen minutes to actually start generating heat when the thermometer is near zero, so I let it run while we loaded up for the fifteen hour drive back South. I have to admit I was rather looking forward to some warmer temperatures. As it would turn out, though, they wouldn't really be quite as warm as I'd hoped.

After driving for a couple of hours due South, the outside temperature was still below zero, and it wasn't until we were into Louisiana before it rose above freezing -- just barely. The windshield washer, which had been frozen up since we arrived in IC, didn't thaw out until the day after we got back to New Orleans. Otherwise, the return trip was uneventful and we arrived back home around 10 pm. By then I was feeling quite acutely that familiar anxiety that we all feel when we've been off the bike and inactive for so long. I was determined to make the Sunday morning ride on the northshore.

It was in the upper 30s in New Orleans on Sunday morning, and I knew that meant low 30s for the northshore. Fortunately, I already had practically everything I owned, clothing-wise, in my bag from the prior week. I pulled on my long tights over my shorts and knee-warmers and headed out at 6:30 to meet Mario and Mignon at Puccino's. I really wish I liked their coffee better, but at least they're open and conveniently located. We had thirteen riders when we pushed off into the 32 degree headwind at bit after 8 am for the usual 65-mile training ride. Two of the guys were planning on turning back early, so when they came off the back as the pace started to ramp up on the way to Highway 10, we didn't wait around for them. Despite the cold, the pace was brisk, and since it's now January there were sprints at the usual spots. Personally, I find it hard to sprint when it's so cold and so early in the year, and since there were usually only three or four who went for the sprints, I guess I'm not the only one. Still, they did force a bit of badly needed intensity. As usual, a few riders came off the back when the attacks started coming on the rollers along the backside of the loop, but I don't think the front group ever got more than a minute or two on them before the next intersection. I was a little unsure how I'd handle jumping into the deep end after being off the bike so much, but toward the end of the ride I realized that it wasn't really as bad as I'd feared. So the ride was a little harder and a little colder than usual for this time of year, but I was really glad I'd made the effort to get there. I was also glad I'd missed the Saturday Giro Ride because there had been a big crash that sent Rusty to the ER with (another) broken collarbone. Good excuse for staying inside until the weather is warmer, though.

The forecast for the next few days is looking really chilly. The warmest morning between today and next Sunday will be around 41 F and the lowest will be 27, the latter of which will be pushing the limits of my winter cycling wardrobe. Next weekend's Saturday Giro and Sunday northshore rides will probably both start out below freezing.