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.

Winter Wonderland My Ass

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

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

The Frozen North

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

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

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

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

Rough Christmas Week

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

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

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

More Like Winter

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

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

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

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

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

Coffee Shop Ride

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


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


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

Finally!

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

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

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

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

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

Fog, Flats and Fun

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

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

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

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

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

Wind and Rain

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

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

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

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

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

A Tough Week for Riding

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

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

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

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

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

We'll see.....

A Table for Four

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

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

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

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

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

Rain Bike Days

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

I would soon find out.

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

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

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