Wednesdays on the Levee

It's interesting the way that group rides evolve.  The morning levee rides, for example, have become reasonably predictable with each day of the week having developed its own little routine.  Wednesdays, coming of course the day after what is typically a fairly hard Tuesday ride, have become the days for long pulls in a smooth, small paceline.  Today was pretty much the definition of the current Wednesday ride.  I don't think the group ever numbered more than six or seven, and except for a few brief surges the pace didn't venture much outside of a narrow range from 21 to 24 mph.  On these days I'll typically take pulls of maybe 100 pedal strokes, as compared to 40 or 50 on a faster ride.  Some riders take slightly longer pulls at slightly slower speeds, others take shorter pulls at slightly higher speeds, but the differences are small -- on the order of one or two mph at best -- so it's always pretty easy to stay in contact.  Sometimes where the rider in front surges more than that, I'll just let a little gap open and then slowly close it up rather than make the more sudden acceleration that would have been needed to stay on the wheel in front.  This, of course, is not a particularly wise tactic if you are in either an actual race or a fast training ride.  Anyway, it was a typical ride today and on the way home I stopped in at Zotz for an iced coffee.

After getting home I spent about an hour searching all over the place for an old property appraisal and taking photos of the house to back up my upcoming trip down to the city assessor's office next week.  I've also tracked down the recent listings and sale prices of a couple of houses in the next block, all of which have a lot more living space and other amenities than mine but sold for way, way less than the amount the city would like to base my property tax bill on.  In the process of rummaging through files and storage boxes I ran across an old photo of me in what must have been one of the very first bike races I ever did.  It's from 1972 and I'm riding my recently upgraded Atala that had cost $110 new.  I'd just swapped out the steel cottered cranks for a new Nervar Star alloy cotterless crankset and upgraded the steel wheels to fiamme red-label tubulars. I'm wearing the NOBC club jersey, but also cut-off shorts and tennis shoes, and of course the old classic leather helmet, and you've got to love the hairy legs.  In the background is the Southern Yacht Club (destroyed by Katrina and later rebuilt) and the old Coast Guard lighthouse (also destroyed by Katrina but now in the process of being rebuilt and restored).  That might even be my girlfriend's convertible Oldsmobile Cutlass parked along the lakefront.  Fortunately, I haven't changed at all since then......