Like the weather, group rides this time feature a totally predictable level of unpredictability. Some riders, myself included, are easing off the intensity and trying to enjoy whatever there is of the scenery down here where there are no majestic mountains or fall foliage photo opportunities. What we do have, however, are some nice marsh fire enhanced sunrises. Last Wednesday's WeMoRi, not to be confused with today's, was definitely a bit less intense than usual, perhaps influenced a bit by the fact that the group caught, and had to stop at, essentially every red light. By mid-week the weather prognosticators were already issuing dire warnings of monsoonal downpours for the weekend, which of course nobody with any experience here was putting much faith in. I went ahead a registered for the Sunday Tour de Jefferson ride on the assumption that any forecast made five days ahead of time would most assuredly turn out to have been premature. Besides, I knew Bill Burke was handling the event services stuff and so throwing another warm body into the mix couldn't hurt, especially if the weather didn't cooperate.
Thursday's levee ride was nice with arm-warmer level weather and a light wind, still our of the southeast. The weather forecast was already backtracking by then, pushing the expected deluge farther and farther back.
Friendly Friday had a typical turnout and weather suitable for summer kit, which of course meant that I wore a base layer and arm-warmers. The weekend forecast was looking even better by then, with most of the rain expected for the beginning of the following week. Even so, Saturday morning was damp and a little cooler. This would be the first Saturday Giro starting at its regular 7 am time and from its regular location since they'd usurped the SaMoRi back in the summer heat. I rode out to Starbucks on damp streets expecting a low turnout, but looking forward to a little pre-ride coffee. As expected, turnout was a little slim. I had to chuckle this morning when I read an article, actually more of an op-ed, in Outside about how everyone has moved to disc brakes. The author wrote, "Also, here’s a fact: 99% of roadies who say you need disc brakes because of superior wet-weather performance also retreat to Zwift at the very first sign of precipitation. As for the ones who don’t, I don’t know how they can stand the sound of their disc brakes howling as soon as they get wet, because I sure can’t. I’d rather crash into a tree than have to listen to that." Anyway, once we got started and came down from the still partially closed Seabrook bridge, Will W went to the front, put it on cruise-control at what was probably about 200 watts for him, and smoothly towed everyone all the way out to Venetian Isles and back. Well, almost all the way back. He somehow rode away on Bullard as the rest of us were trying to avoid the potholes and keep from being squashed by traffic. I got back home feeling like I'd just been on a sightseeing tour on the back of a tandem e-bike. Just as well, because I was definitely not expecting the same level of moderation for Sunday's ride.
The Tour of Jefferson is one of those late-season fun rides that, like the Tour da Parish, attracts essentially the entire regular Giro group, plus all of the West Bank riders. The course is actually kind of awful in that it incorporates no fewer than six U-turns, and the longest stretch without a turn is probably six miles, but somehow it still turns into a race at the front and six 30-second intervals at the back. As soon as we were past the neutral start, a couple of miles in, Ben Hall took off just like he did last year. There was a very disorganized chase that never really solidified into anything significant, but nonetheless the pace was mostly pretty brisk with an average speed a bit over 25 mph and, for me sitting in the ample draft near the back, and average heart rate of 134 with a max of 163.
So not really a hard ride for me. By the time we got to the last segment the front group was down to maybe 25 riders, some of whom wanted to sprint for the imaginary finish line which was essentially Bill Burke's car. We were about a mile out when I noticed a number of the faster riders drifting toward the back to stay out of trouble. The speed was hovering in the 27-28 mph range with a moderate headwind when Eddie C went flying past on the right shoulder taking all of the wannabe sprinters off guard. So I guess that was second place since Ben had finished maybe two minutes earlier. Afterward I had a mini-muffuletta and some lemonade and headed back home.
With the long-predicted rainy weather slowly approaching, the Mellow Monday ride turnout was unsurprisingly thin and the roads unsurprisingly wet, but we still got in a nice little recovery ride, which was good because the outlook for Tuesday and Wednesday was not encouraging. The rain started later in the day, and continued all night. At 5:15 am Tuesday morning I could hear the water outside the window trickling down from the broken gutter left behind by Hurricane Ida and just pulled the covers back over my head to enjoy a rare extra hour of what passes for sleep before making coffee.
I was scheduled to bring the car in to the body shop to repair some damage done some guy who hit The Wife at a 4-way stop and then took off before she could get any contact information or even a definite license plate number. Typical. Probably didn't have insurance. Fortunately by the time I had to bring the car in the rain had turned into just a cold mist, so my ride down Tulane Avenue from the body shop was dominated more by the possibility of being killed in the ill-conceived bike lane by busses or trucks, rather than arriving at work soaking wet. I was cold all day anyway, of course, and the ride home wasn't any better.
This morning's WeMoRi featured enough of a north wind to make Lakeshore Drive inadvisable. As came over the Norman Francis overpass a rather heavy cold mist started falling. I was wearing my goretex base layer, arm-warmers, and full-finger gloves, but even so I briefly considered packing it in and turning around. Fortunately the mist eased up a little, so I decided to continue anyway, even though I figured I might be the only one crazy enough to be riding. Then, as I came over the Wisner overpass I saw all three of the WeMoRi riders heading the other way, which confirmed my suspicions about Lakeshore Drive. Knowing that they had likely opted for a couple of laps around City Park, I looped around at Filmore and joined in for their second lap. This was all in an off-and-on cold mist that sometimes bordered on actual rain, so by the time I was heading back home I was pretty wet and chilled. Then, just to twist the knife, my front wheel went flat halfway up the NF overpass, which was about the worst possible place to have a front flat. I rode the flat with the tire squirming around on the wet road, and somehow managed to make it all the way down the overpass without crashing. I needed my pocket knife to extract the little piece of glass or metal from the tire, and got rolling again for the last mile or so home. It was not fun. In comparison, my ride to work was much more pleasant since I was wearing a rain jacket and wool socks! It still looks gloomy and miserable outside in the way that only November can make it, but hopefully the weather will start to improve, and maybe the rain will help with the marsh fire in the east.
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| Charley wondering why mom is driving off without him |
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