Finished with February

February always turns out to be the hardest month for riding. "Hard" in the sense that it's hard to get out on the bike and actually do anything resembling training.  If it's not the weather, it's something else. I'm sure that way back when they were working out the details of the Gregorian calendar, making adjustments for Mardi Gras (oh, I mean Easter), and the Council of Nicea's dubious decrees, someone must have said, "Hey guys, we're going to have to cut a couple of days off of one of these months to make this thing work," to which someone else replied, "Take it out of February, the sooner that damned month is over the better."

So anyway, I'm always kind of glad to see February come to an end. Once we're into March the days start to get noticeably longer, the morning temperatures a little milder, and I start thinking a little more seriously about racing.  This year, we practically get to celebrate the end of February because in a few hours it will be the start of Mardi Gras weekend, aka the weekend before Mardi Gras.  Almost anyone who is in town this time of year has friends and relatives visiting and the streets and sidewalks and neutral grounds are busy with people sporting somewhat eccentric attire, even by New Orleans standards. The weather this year looks promising.  The weekend looks to be mild and dry with daytime temperatures in the 70s.  Monday is still on the fence with a cold front and 50% chance of rain, but if that pushes through on schedule, Mardi Gras day should be cooler, with a high in the mid-50s, but dry.  We can hope.

Last night I ventured out on the bike to catch the Muses parade.  Down around Fat Harry's the crowd was pretty thick and we didn't push our way past the ladders and through the crowd for a while.  About halfway through, however, the crowd started to thin a little bit and, growing tired of missing the best part of the parade, namely the various marching or riding groups and bands between the floats, we squeezed past the tall people and got a great spot just in time to see Keith and the Rolling Elvi come past, and later this whole group with elaborately decorated tricycles.  In my rush to get out there in time (I had to bring the geriatric dog to the vet at 5:00 for a $250 last-minute appointment to deal with various issues, one of which quite odiferous) I'd forgotten to bring my camera, so I got only a few marginal photos with my phone.  Anyway, the parade was great but I didn't finally get to bed until midnight.

So this morning I woke up to find the sun close enough to the horizon that I was able to go out at 6:30 am without my lights, wearing sunglasses. Yeah!!  The earth is finally tilting back in the proper direction!  It was still in the low 40s, but the sky was clear and the slight southeast breeze promised a quick warm-up.  I rode out toward the lakefront via Jeff. Davis, where they still have one lane mostly blocked off while they finish up the curbs, but where you can ride on the blocked-off part pretty much all the way.  I turned west on Robt. E. Lee rather than Lakeshore Drive in order to get to the Lake Trail bike path sooner.  With just a slight tailwind, and the air already a bit warmer, the ride along the deserted path was nearly perfect.  So perfect, in fact, that I just couldn't make myself turn around until I was all the way out to the casino boat at Williams Blvd.  It was just one of those really nice morning rides.  The weekend is looking to be busy and I'll probably end up just doing Giro Rides because we have one house guest arriving this afternoon and I'm sure there will be a lot of interest in the daytime parades, so long rides in the country are probably not going to happen for me despite what looks to be awesome riding weather.  In the meantime, however, I need to finish up an analysis of the three-year rolling average of adjusted raw and normalized research and development expenditures for AAU universities.

Disappointing Week

There were a few foggy mornings this week.

At the outset I had high hopes for this past week.  The temperature was supposed to remain pretty comfortable, there wasn't a whole lot of rain in the forecast, and I didn't have much on my dance card that would interfere with my regular ride times.  Coming off of an acceptable, for February, 200 mile week I figured it would be easy to rack up 250 or more.  Two hundred fifty miles is kind of my threshold number that defines a good training week, although the typical February weather and my own lack of enthusiasm for riding in the rain, or dark, or traffic does sometimes make achieving that number challenging. Anyway, I had high hopes on Monday.  One problem, of course, has been the slightly reduced ride time for morning levee rides.  Because of the additional time needed to put the bike(s) on the car, change shoes, wait at stop lights, etc., the time block that used to get me 42 miles on Tuesday and Thursday yields only 38 now.  Those extra miles will probably cost and extra twenty minutes or so, but it may turn out to be worth the having to rush a bit after getting home.  Anyway, after an easy Monday ride, I drove out to meet the 6:15 am group on Tuesday on the levee.  That turned out to be a fairly decent ride, so on Wednesday I decided to ride out to the lakefront since I didn't really know who might show up for the levee ride anyway.  Although it was a hassle dealing with traffic going and coming, I did enjoy the stretch along the lake bike path in Jefferson Parish, riding out to the first canal past Causeway and getting home with 24 miles, which is status quo for me for a Wednesday morning.

Thursday's levee ride had originally a pretty big turnout, but lots of riders turned back early because the fog was ridiculously thick despite a stiff southeast wind.  That kept the speed down a bit, fortunately, but I stuck it out with a few others and at least got in the miles.  Then on Friday I met some of the Tulane riders for a 6:15 ride out to the lakefront and a stop for coffee that I would have happily prolonged except that Danielle needed to get back in time for class.  At that point I guess my weekly mileage wasn't looking too terrible.  The problem, however, was the forecast for Sunday.  I was really, really hoping to do another northshore ride on Sunday but the forecast was already looking bad.

On Saturday I headed out for the regular Giro Ride.  It was chilly at first, but once the sun came up it got really nice.  I ended up with my pockets stuffed with discarded wardrobe items.  We had a pretty big group and although the pace wasn't fast throughout, there were a few good sections that stayed in the 25+ mph range and one particular four-mile stretch that averaged a touch over 30.  I felt pretty good during the ride and as I rode home I was hoping against hope that Sunday's forecast would prove to be wrong.  It wasn't.  In fact, Sunday was a painfully long day stuck at home watching it rain on and off.  It wasn't particularly cold, and I seriously considered going out on the rain bike, but I'd been dealing with a post-nasal drip since Friday and by Sunday morning it was a full-fledged sore throat.  Going out for a ride in the rain would have been decidedly irrational.  Instead, I spent a long time down in the basement putting a new chain and cassette on the Bianchi.  The installation was quick and painless, but it took a lot of time to clean the filthy chainrings, jockey wheels, and bike in general.  I had been using Rock n' Roll on the chain for the past month or so, and although it is pretty nice stuff, it does tend to leave a kind of waxy layer on the chainrings.  By the time I finished that, I was all ready for a ride on a nice clean bike with brand new chain and cassette, but the streets were still soaked and the rain wasn't quite over anyway, so I was looking forward to Monday.

I got up this morning and was really disappointed when I looked out the window.  More fog and leftover puddles in the street.  Of course, I went out anyway since it was still around 60F at the time, but all that bike cleaning from the day before was definitely going to waste in a hurry.  I went out to the lake and headed over to the lakefront bike path dreaming of a few miles of nice smooth asphalt, only to be disappointed when I came over the levee and realized that water was still draining from the levee across the path. More wet streets, a dirty bike, and I'm sure a black stripe up my backside.  Such is riding in February.  I logged only 199 miles for the week and, even worse, spent the better part of Sunday eating everything and anything at home.

Rapidly Approaching

It's Wednesday and already last weekend seems like a long time ago.  The road season is rapidly approaching and for some it's already arrived.  The first LAMBRA races of the year we held up in Monroe last weekend.  I decided to skip them this year for a couple of somewhat shaky reasons, not the least of which is a longstanding unwillingness to subject myself to a 20 km time trial in February.  I'm never ready for that. Never.  The criterium is usually fun and appropriately low-key, but I wasn't up to the 4-hour drive this year, especially considering the fact that there are very few free weekends on my calendar for the next couple of months.  As it turned out, the even had quite a nice turnout and some good racing that I almost felt bad about missing.  Starting in March there are four collegiate races plus Rouge-Roubaix and a weekend race in LakeCharles, not to mention Mardi Gras on the 4th.

Katie is a local triathlete as you can
 clearly tell from her socks.

And so Saturday morning found me once again riding out to Starbucks for the local Giro Ride.  The temperature was pretty cool, but the forecast was promising it wouldn't stay that way.  I was way over-dressed and had the vest stuffed in my pocket before I even got to Starbucks.  The Giro group was about mid-sized and the pace fairly even, so it was a pretty routine training ride.  I was planning on doing the northshore ride on Sunday, so I didn't feel too bad about limiting my efforts, at least that's what I told myself.  The real fact of the matter was that I just wasn't feeling too sharp.

Saturday night was the Krewe du Vieux, and I made the mistake of offering to drive Danielle, James and his friend down to the French Quarter for it.  It was also the NBA All-Star weekend in New Orleans, so the very idea of venturing anywhere near the Quarter in an automobile was absolutely ludicrous.  Of course, I did it anyway as there just wasn't time to organize this group to take bikes down there.  Well, we got to Convention Center Blvd. and were immediately gridlocked.  A couple of blocks ahead I could see the Fulton St. Garage, for which I'd designed a website way back when normal people could do that sort of thing. They were offering parking for a $30 flat rate and we were about half a mile from the parade route. There was no way we were going to get much closer and even less of a chance we'd find a place to park if we did, so I bit the bullet and we drove up eight levels before finding a spot.  Fortunately the weather was great and the walk down through the Quarter to Faubourg Marigny was fun and entertaining with lots of exotic pimped-out cars and badly dressed overweight basketball groupies to make fun of.  The walking parade itself, which is always an unfettered political satire with an overarching theme that can be summarized by the word "penis," was enjoyable.  We stopped at Cafe' du Monde on the way back before making the walk to the garage, but even so I think I was back home by 10:30.  This was good because I was planning on the northshore ride the next morning.

So on Sunday I drove over to Puccino's with Danielle who hitched a ride with Sherri because they were doing a skills and training ride with the NOBC women out of Abita Springs. I was headed a little farther to meet the group at Lee Road Junior High. It was quite cold at the start, but I knew it would probably be twenty degrees warmer by the time we finished the 65 mile ride.  In spite of the great weather, there were only eight on hand at the start, and five of them were planning on turning back early, so by the time we were halfway around the course it was just Rob, VJ and me.  VJ started coming off the back on hills after a while, which wasn't too surprising since neither Rob nor I could offer him much of a draft above his handlebar level.  Even so, we had a pretty good ride and I felt like I got a nice little workout out of it.  I headed over to Abita Springs after we finished and arrived just in time to meet the NOBC women as they finished their ride, so the timing worked out perfectly.

The nice weather is still hanging on around here and I'm not complaining.  Tuesday's long levee ride was in a dense wet fog, but otherwise was good even though my legs felt like lead.  This morning the fog was very light, the temperature was around 70F, and the wind was light.  I decided to do a solo ride out to the lakefront and out along the bike path to the west.  That worked out well, and I was glad to see that they have finally put some fresh asphalt down on Jeff. Davis Parkway, which is nice alternative to Carrollton Avenue during rush hour.

On the bike side, I finally broke down and got a new cassette because I'm pretty sure the one that I've been training on for the past year is toast, judging by the chain. I've had a new chain ready to go for about a month, but then started to suspect that it was already too late to think that the cassette hadn't gotten worn to accommodate the stretched chain so I held off until I could get a cassette.  Damned things are expensive.  Anyway, it's looking like the Tulane Cycling space over here at Uptown Square will finally become available to us within the next month, so today I met Kenny over at Property Management to pick out some used furniture, and last night I worked out a diagram for installing the wall-mount bike holders for what will become the bike storage room.  Naturally our access to the space will come at the club's busiest time of the year, March, when there's a race every weekend, Mardi Gras, Spring Break, and who knows what else.  Looks like the next six weeks will be pretty busy.  

When the Rain Falls

The great weather of last weekend was abruptly replaced with a full day of cold mist and intermittent rain.  I didn't even consider riding that morning, but luckily the rain had stopped briefly in time for me to ride to work.  I even made it out around lunchtime and rode down to Apolline to pick up a gift card for Mario and his family.

Mario

Mario, one of my NOBC teammates, suffered a brain aneurysm a couple of weeks ago, and although he is no longer on the critical list, it's going to be a long rehab. We're putting together a little gift basket, which of course just had to be a wicker bicycle basket, and I'm hoping to pay him a visit this weekend.  The flower shop is swamped because of Valentine's day, so they won't get to it until Saturday anyway.  By the end of the day I felt lucky to find another lapse in the rain so I could ride back home without getting wet, although by then the temperature was dropping.

The rain bike

So late last night I put a little air in the tires of the old Pennine, which is still sporting its cyclocross tires but now has its fenders too.  By 6:30 am it looked like most of the rain had passed through, so I headed out toward the lakefront under the still-dripping oak trees to try and get in a few miles.  As frustrating as it is dealing with traffic and stop lights, it was still better than looking out the window wishing I'd ridden.  I decided to ride to the lakefront bike path in Jefferson, which is probably about seven miles away, to see what that was like. The streets were still wet and full of puddles, so I was really glad to have the full fenders.  I admit there were a few times when I rode right through the puddles just for fun.  My feet didn't start to feel wet until I was halfway home, and since the temperature was only in the mid-40s, it would have been miserable if I had been riding my regular bike. I think it was around where I turned off of the street and onto the bike path over the levee that I rode through what looked like a little puddle but was in reality a big old pothole.  I hit pretty hard, but everything seemed OK so I didn't think about it until after I'd turned around at the 12 mile point and the rear tire started to feel mushy.  It was a really slow pinch-flat leak, so I was able to nurse it along until I got to Causeway Blvd. where the bike path goes behind the levee and underneath the road.  There, I was protected from the north wind which made changing the tube a lot less miserable.  Anyway, although the temperature was stuck at about 44F and it was rather gloomy and wet, I was glad to have logged a few miles today.

When the Sun Shines

It was finally a weekend without rain in the forecast, and area cyclists were out in force.  I rode out to the Saturday Giro Ride just a little overdressed for the 45 degree pre-dawn temperature, rather unsure how far or long I'd end up riding and already wishing I'd remembered to drop a Powerbar into my pocket.  Turnout for the Giro was quite good, although a few of the usual strongmen were off at early season races in Florida or Texas. My only complication was an 11:00 criterium training session for which I was going to meet The Daugher. We're usually back from the Giro Ride by 9:15 or so, which meant I could either log an extra hour and a half or ride home and then drive back out to the lakefront.  I asked around at Starbucks to see if anyone was planning on extending the Giro out to Ft. Pike, but for some reason most riders were just planning on doing the regular Giro.  Fortunately, Kenny, who was conducting the 11:00 session, was there, so I knew that all I had to do was stick with him.

The Giro itself went pretty well, although I was keeping my nose out of the wind pretty much, especially on the way out to the turnaround.  The average speed for the main part of the way out was a conservative 23 mph, with the return trip averaging a bit faster at 24.9.  Of course the average speed is pretty much irrelevant for the Giro.  My effort at the Goodyear sprint topped out at 36.5 mph, so it's not like it was just a steady paceline all day.  Anyway, after sprinting up the two bridges I looked around for Kenny as we cooled down along Lakeshore Drive and we decided to ride out along the lakefront bike path in Jefferson in order to kill some time until 11:00.  Well, as it turned out, there were about five other riders who were planning on doing the same thing.  I'd been expecting a slightly more leisurely pace than I got, but it wasn't a problem.  By the time we finally rolled into the parking lot at Elysian Fields, where Kenny had left his cellphone sitting on the bumper of his truck (it was still there) I was starting to feel a little tired and hungry. After standing around I started getting kind of chilled too, so I was happy to finally get back home with 87 miles in the book.

The forecast for Sunday was even better, and we had been pushing the northshore ride for the NOBC riders, especially the women's team.  I drove over to Covington with a fully loaded car, and when we rolled out of the parking lot at Lee Road Junior High I counted nearly thirty riders.  Pretty much all of us were overdressed, as it would turn out.  Although it was chilly at the start, I think it was at least 65F by the time we got back.  We had a wide range of riders on this ride, so the plan was to let the pack split when people started coming off the back, which happened pretty early.  I had been hoping it would happen later, which would have given me the option to go with the faster group to Sie Jenkins Road, and then backtrack to pick up the second group, but when things started coming apart around 20 miles into the ride I started looking for alternatives. 

After splitting into two groups at Hwy 1072, the B group took the Lee Road shortcut.  That cut off a good five miles, but more importantly it also cut off one of the longer climbs and allowed the group to avoid the surges and higher speeds that the faster group would surely be dishing out.  We came out onto 439 well ahead of the faster group, and even after waiting to regroup at Sie Jenkins Road, we were still ahead of them when we stopped at South Choctaw Road to regroup again.  As we were getting ready to go two of the fast group came racing through.  A little farther back was another group of four or so.  I jumped onto that group and got a few miles of faster riding for a few miles before doubling back to pick up the rest of the group. At that point we also picked up a few of the riders who had been with the fast group, so we had a few more riders for the remainder of the ride. After we got onto Tung rode a few of us rode off the front for a few more fast miles before rolling pack to the cars. Although there were a few tired legs by the time we finished the 60 mile ride, nobody was very far off the back so the shortcut actually worked out quite well.

There were reports from all over the area of other big group rides on Sunday, and a number of riders were out on the Rouge-Roubaix course.  I've pretty much decided I will have to skip that race this  year.  My neck and back are still giving me problems on the longer rides, and I know that 104 miles on that course would be nothing but torture, even more than usual.

The weather for the rest of the week is not looking good at all.  Although it won't be terribly cold (40 and 50s), it's definitely going to be pretty wet.

Plasticity

Long ago, back when cycling equipment was made almost entirely of somewhat over-engineered steel and aluminum alloys, stuff didn't break very often under normal circumstances.  I have old hubs from the 70s that, thanks to periodic re-greasing, are still smooth as silk despite thousands of miles. Eventually, though, durability gave way to lightness and regular club riders started buying equipment as if they had team mechanics and equipment sponsors.  Nowadays I spend most of my time on a bike made primarily of what we used to call "plastic."  The hubs run on throw-away cartridge bearings that last a year or two, and shifters that once required nothing more than a thumbscrew now have their very own exploded parts diagrams and YouTube repair videos.  Things change.

This week, thus far, has been wet and foggy, and as often seems to happen around this time of year, things are starting to wear out and break.  Monday morning I thought I'd broken the rear derailleur cable on the Bianchi, so that evening I stopped by the bike shop on the way home and picked up a new cable.  Of course the closest they could come was some sort of teflon-coated tandem-length derailleur cable, but at least it looked thin enough to fit my Campi housings.  Later that night I peeled back the rubber brake hood, released the cable from the derailleur end, and expected to be able to push the broken cable end out of the shifter. It should have been quick and easy. What I quickly discovered, however, was that the cable itself was not broken.  Instead, the little round plastic (yes, it was plastic!) piece that holds the cable end in place and upon which the entire shifter relies in order to pull the derailleur from one cog to the next, had broken. I had to remove the shifter entirely and then remove that little rotating plastic part, then look it up in the Campagnolo technical diagram to get the part number, and then, thanks to google, easily find a place from which to order a replacement which of course will take a few days to arrive.

I've been enjoying reading the posts on the Midwest Dino Riders Facebook page lately. Back in 70s and even into the 80s we saw fair number of riders from the midwest who would come down here to race in the spring races like the Tour de Louisiana, so a lot of the names and stories are familiar and I have been able to provide some interesting stuff from the NOBC archives.  The other day someone posted a report on the Tour de Louisiana that was scanned from the old Competitive Cyclist rag.  It had been written by our own Greg Gulotta, and the magazine/newspaper had been started by our own Jim McFadden who had been down here getting a Ph.D. in philosophy at Tulane.  Seeing the masthead of the paper reminded me to post a photo of an award I had received in 1972 that had been hand-drawn by Jim's wife Cathy.  The image on that award was the basis for the paper's logo.  Small world.

So on Tuesday morning I loaded the old steel Cervelo on which I'd had a flat the day before, into the car to meet the Tuesday ride up on the levee.  We had planned on a 6:15 am start from the Playground, and there was a good group on hand and ready to roll by then, which was about when  Howard and Judd drove up.  So we waited up on top of the levee in the cold for them to get ready.  After a few minutes Woody got tired of waiting and rolled on down the levee.  A little while after that the Statue of Limitations ran out on Howard and Judd and the rest of the group started to head out at an easy pace.  I lagged behind a bit since I could see one of them already riding up the road to the levee.  I figured it would be easy for them to catch.  Ahead of me I could see Brian had dropped off the back of the group too.  Well within a minute or so I could tell that the group was picking up speed and the gap was starting to grow too quickly.  I had to put my head down and get up to speed, catching Brian who said he was too cold and was going to turn back, and then sprinting the last few meters to catch the draft.  In order to do that I pushed on the left paddle shifter to put the chain on the big ring.  As the chain made the jump the plastic shifter broke off.  Great.  Another piece of broken plastic.  At least I knew I wouldn't be needing the small chainring anyway.  I imagine Howard and Judd were chasing, but the group was already going maybe 24 mph and I knew they wouldn't be able to catch.  A little while later David had a flat, and even though we stopped for a while to fix it, Howard and Judd didn't show up (I think Judd had needed to go back to his car for some reason).  Eventually we saw them after we'd turned around at the Luling bridge, so there was a bit of Howard management to be done on the way back in order to keep the pace steady.

The incoming Tulane president

Well, with the Bianchi out of action waiting for the plastic shifter part and the Cervelo questionable because of the broken plastic shifter paddle, I pulled down the Orbea for Wednesday's ride. At least I'm able to employ some plasticity when it comes to ride choices.  Lights and computer and saddle bag were again transferred over, the saddle height, which had been changed to accommodate someone else a few months ago, was reset to match the Bianchi, and I headed out around 6:30 for a solo ride out to the Lakefront. A cold front had come through during the night, so as usual it had rained buckets for a couple of hours, the temperature had dropped back down into the 40s, and the wind had jumped up into the teens. Traffic wasn't too bad on Carrollton as I fought the brisk northwest wind on the way to Lakeshore Drive, but the streets were still wet in places (and somewhat deep in others where the drains weren't working) and there was a lot of after-rain grit and debris scattered about the edges where I was riding.  The front tire on the Orbea was almost down to the cords in a couple of places, so I was more pissed-off than surprised when it went flat on the way home along Carrollton Avenue.  I changed it out in front of the coffee shop there by Orleans, wishing I hadn't just lost my little wallet that I ride with and in which I keep a few bucks of coffee money.  Good thing I patched a whole bunch of tubes last week.

So yesterday afternoon there was a little ceremony on campus to announce the incoming President of Tulane University (Mike Fitts from U. Penn Law School).  I sat through that informal ceremony, standing and clapping appropriately, chatted with Tom and Rick, had a glass of wine, and got back home by 5:30.  They had done an amazing job of keeping the name of the new president a secret, and most people didn't know who it would be until the Advocate spilled the beans that morning.  The next five months will be more or less a transition period with the new president officially taking over in July.  Hopefully by then he will be up to speed on the Medical School, scientific research, and all of the things that the Dean of a law school doesn't usually have to deal with.  Naturally that all means I have a whole new list of things I need to put together.  Fortunately I can distract myself with this blog when I need to procrastinate a little bit.

Half Week

NOBC Training Camp group heading out on the Trace

It wasn't the best of weeks for riding. Between the cold temperatures and rainy mornings I skipped out on three of seven days, and a couple of those on which I actually did ride barely rose to the "training" level.  Then there was this morning ... but I'll get to that later.

After skipping my Monday ride (I think it was raining?) I was determined to get out on Tuesday.  The University, and most of the city for that matter, was shut down on Tuesday and Wednesday because of the threat of ice and slick roads.  It wasn't really a problem in the city itself, but commuters coming in from elsewhere were definitely best advised to stay home because the interstate and causeway were mostly shut down.


Tuesday morning the streets here were fine, and since I was off of work I waited until 6:30 to head out.  I drove out to the playground and met up with a few other riders there at 6:45 am.  I'm thinking 6:30 is going to work better in the future, however, since we lose a lot of time and therefore mileage with all of the driving and changing of shoes and getting bikes out of cars and such.  I think there were some other complications as well, so we didn't ride the full distance out to Ormond and instead turned around quite early.  We were off again on Wednesday, so I met up with Ben in the afternoon when it was a little warmer.  He was planning on doing some 8-minute intervals.  We rode out toward The Dip and I stopped for a quick nature break a little before we got there.  He started his first interval after turning around, so Pat (he had come by as I was re-mounting) and I jumped on his wheel as he flew past and just hung on for the next five minutes or so.  Pat then turned back to head home.  Ben started his second interval with me on his wheel and I was having a nice time motorpacing back there when up ahead I saw someone with an unleashed dog.  As we approached I let a gap open, Ben kept hammering, and I lost the draft.  It was like hitting a wall.  Suddenly my speed went from 27 mph to 23 mph as Ben practically disappeared up the road. I had time to catch back up when he finished that interval and the next one went fine.


Thursday was more rain and I didn't ride, but at least I made it out for twenty miles on Friday.

A stop at Church Hill to regroup

The NOBC training camp was last weekend up at Natchez State Park, so Danielle and I were on the road around 5 pm for the 3 hour drive.  The weather forecast was looking OK for Saturday but very questionable for Sunday.  The camp had a fairly good turnout despite a few last-minute cancellations, which always seem to happen, and we rolled out Saturday morning with a dozen or so for our planned 68 mile ride.  That ride went quite well, actually, although we never really saw the sun. I spent a little extra time out in the wind now and then to compensate for the moderate pace and doubled back a couple of times for riders who were off the back, so I ended up with 73 miles that felt like legitimate training.  Danielle had a good ride on new wheels and with her new ultra short reach handlebars, even though we had to stop at one point when one of those plastic shopping bags blew across the road and got tangled up in her derailleur.  That afternoon Bob did a nice training presentation and we watched Chasing Legends once again.  The forecast for Sunday morning was still all over the map when I finally went to bed.

You never know who you'll run into
 on those Mississippi back roads.

Sunday morning I checked the hourly forecast and radar and thought it looked pretty good.  The chance of rain didn't really jump up until around 10:00 and the radar was showing just spotty showers, so I was hopeful. I was looking forward to the ride in to Natchez and our traditional stop at the coffee shop there. Well, by the time we were finishing breakfast a light rain was already falling and motivation was lagging.  With the wet streets and increasing chances of significant rain we ended up not riding at all and heading back home before 10:00, driving through a couple of heavy downpours and some thick fog along the way.  Another missed day.



So I was determined to get in a ride Monday morning.  Unfortunately I wasn't quite determined enough to get everything ready the night before.  When I got up to ride I realized that most of my stuff was still down in the basement in my bag.  I had to search for my tail light and put that on the bike, put the headlight on the bike, find the Garmin and put that on the bike, fish out my glasses from inside my shoe, etc., etc.  When I was finally ready to go I pulled the bike down from the hook and found the chain wasn't meshing with the cogs because it had jumped off of the lower derailleur wheel when I'd put the wheels back on after arriving home the day before.  I was already running late so I tried to force it with the pedal but that wasn't working so I tried to shift it to a lower gear.  When I did, the derailleur cable broke.  Crap.  I looked around to decide on my next move.  The Orbea's saddle was still set for someone who had borrowed the bike and I didn't want to have to get out the tape measure and reset it.  The Cervelo's tires were nearly flat from not having been used in months and its pedals were still on the track bike from earlier in the season.  I decided to move the pedals over to the Orbea, which took a few minutes, and then pump up the tires, switch over the saddle bag and lights, etc.  I finally got out the door a good twenty minutes late.  I stuck to my plan to ride out to the lakefront, despite the fact that traffic would obviously be a little heavier than normal.  Another cold front had come through with the prior day's rain, and although it was only in the mid-40s there was a strong north wind all the way out to the lakefront.  I finally hit Lakeshore Drive and was planning on doing a full 10-mile lap at a reasonable pace when my rear tire went flat.  I limped to the traffic circle and stopped at the Levee Board police station parking lot that has been abandoned since Katrina to fix it.  By then any motivation I'd had was long gone.  I pulled the offending piece of shell out of the tire, changed the tube, and just headed back home.  Tomorrow morning it's looking like the wind will be shifting around to the southeast and the chance of rain increasing, again, but at least it won't be very cold.  Hopefully I'll be able to get in a decent ride out to Ormond.  Hopefully.  Now if I can just remember to stop by the bike shop to pick up a derailleur cable this evening.....