Kinda Crazy Weather

Tuesday morning starting the return trip from Ormond

It was a week defined more by the weather than anything else. Well, that and Bergeron Volvo, but I'll get to that part later. At least we had a fairly normal levee ride on Tuesday, if you consider 66°F at the end of November "normal." After logging something in excess of 350 miles the week before I was already fully committed to an easier week, especially since I was entertaining the possibility of going up to Ridgeland on Sunday for cyclocross. 

The weather forecast for the last day of November, Wednesday's WeMoRi, was not looking too promising, though, with a line of rain being consistently predicted to come through precisely in the middle of the ride. Of course, weather predictions this time of year are always closer to opinions than scientific fact, so I was still holding out a bit of hope when I hit the sack Tuesday night. Hope springs eternal. When I awoke Wednesday morning I could hear thunder way in the distance, and checking the weather radar confirmed that the forecast had, for once, been right on the mark. WeMo was clearly not going to happen, and even the possibility of squeezing in a few miles after work looked distinctly improbable. Considering my aforementioned high-mileage prior week I took it all as a sign that I should just take the day off and call it a recovery day.

When it's cold and windy you at least get the levee to yourself!

As usually happens after a line of storms like that comes through, Thursday morning was super windy out of the east northeast, the sky was clear, and the temperature was down to the mid-40s. To complicate matters, I was scheduled, after waiting three weeks for the appointment, to bring the Volvo in for service over in Metairie. I figured I'd turn around early, ride back home, throw the bike into the car, drive out to the dealership, and ride back home. Well, when I arrived at the levee for the 6 am ride start it was deserted. Everyone had bailed out because of the wind and the fact that it was going to be considerably warmer the next day. So I went ahead and battled the wind, which wasn't really all that bad because much of it was crosswind, for about ten miles before turning back to head home. Then, as planned I drove out to Bergeron Volvo with the bike in the back to drop it off. Since I'd gotten there a bit before 8 am I decided to go back the long way, riding up Severn which has a brand new "protected" bike lane, to the Lake Trail. Fortunately I didn't hit any of the concrete road furniture separating the bike lane from the other lanes, and also fortunately didn't need to turn left which such things would have made more hazardous than usual. I rode over the levee onto the bike path and turned east and was immediately slammed hard by the unobstructed east wind that was howling at somewhere in the 15-20 mph range. I was at times struggling to maintain 11 mph until I finally got to Bucktown and back onto city streets where the wind wasn't quite so strong. The rest of the 11.6 mile ride home was much nicer except for the rush-hour drivers who seemed intent on murdering me despite my retina-piercing daytime-visible tail light.

Just a handful of us did the full Giro on Saturday.

Friday's Friendly Friday ride was unremarkable except for the somewhat low turnout and nice easy pace. I was hoping to get the car back at some point so I'd have it on Sunday for the drive to Ridgeland, but I was not so lucky. By late afternoon I texted the service department to inquire about the status of the car and was told that there were still two cars ahead of it, which meant that it had been sitting there for two days and nobody had even looked at it yet. I don't know what the point of waiting three weeks for an appointment is if they aren't going to touch the car for two days - actually four since it was now going to sit there all weekend. So that blew my cyclocross plans right out of the water. I'd already known I wouldn't be able to race on Saturday since we had tickets to the Tulane conference championship game that day. Not having the car for Sunday just twisted that knife a little more. Saturday morning it was nearly 70° but it was foggy as hell, which is not unusual when we have that kind of weather this time of year. So despite the temperature I put a base layer under my jersey and slipped on some thin arm-warmers, fully expecting to spend most of the Giro Ride wet. I was not wrong. I hadn't gone two blocks before I had to put my fogged up glasses in my pocket. Out at the Giro we had a small but not unreasonable group by the 7 am start, but as you can imagine the fog was quite thick along the lake. I think that kept the speed down a little bit. Apparently a lot of people had decided to start with the 6:45 SaMoRi group that day, and when we saw that large group heading back on Chef as we were heading out, almost everybody turned around to ride back in with the SaMoRi. Well, everybody but like four of us. We continued on and did the full ride. By the time we were back on Hayne Blvd. the fog had mostly lifted and I was able to put my sunglasses back on. Then, right at the base of the Bayou St. John bridge, we came upon a remnant of the SaMoRi, including a bunch of riders who had started with us, that was fixing one of apparently a few flat tires they had had. Karma, for sure. Anyway, since that put me back with a group that had ridden over from the westbank, and the weather was by then so nice, I tagged along with them through Metairie to the river where they turned off to the right to take the Huey P. Long bridge and I continued on to the levee for the ride back home. 

End of a well-played game.

Saturday afternoon we walked over to Tulane stadium in a warm and light drizzle to watch Tulane play University of Central Florida for their conference championship. I was shocked and amazed to find the student section packed with students from start to finish, which I don't think I have seen in decades, if ever. Also amazing was Tulane's performance. After an exciting game Tulane wrapped it up with another 4th quarter TD to win convincingly, which ultimately slotted them into the January 2nd Cotton Bowl. When the clock ticked down to zero the students, and most of the other fans as well, rushed the field, which was a sight I never thought I'd see at Tulane stadium.

On Sunday the weather was much the same as it had been on Saturday, but the fog was not quite as thick as the Giro rolled out with a significantly larger group than Saturday. Still, it wasn't a normal sized Giro group, so the speeds were mostly a little lower than usual and I was able to actually put my nose into the wind a number of times. I guess that got me a little bit more intensity to make up for that which I was missing by not being able to get to the cyclocross race.

This morning I went out to the Mellow Monday ride where the wind was as flat as the lake and the temperature was in the upper 60s. For reasons Turnout was a little low, probably because of the dire Dense Fog warnings that the forecasters had been emphasizing the night before, and I was expecting it to be an easier ride than usual. I should mention that despite the earlier warnings to the contrary, there was essentially no fog. It wasn't quite the easy ride I'd been expecting, but mainly because Don spent about half the time on the front on his super slick triathlon bike with the rest of us following like a little line of ducklings. For the record, Jen made the whole ride, apparently for the first time. She has been by far the most consistent about riding of all the Tulane riders this fall.

Holiday Miles

Thanksgiving Day waiting for the bridge to open.

It was some time on Wednesday afternoon when some sort of consensus seemed to materialize on doing a Thanksgiving Day Giro Ride. Thus started for me a string of longish city rides that would ultimately push my weekly mileage well over 300. Thanksgiving day started out really nicely, with warm temperatures and moderate wind. One never knows who will show up for these holiday rides since some people actually have lives outside of cycling, but as it turned out we had a pretty good-sized group for what I hoped would be a moderate-paced Giro. After getting stopped on the Seabrook drawbridge just as a sailboat was coming, we came down onto Hayne Blvd. at a relatively tame speed, and with really only a handful of riders interested in pushing the pace, things stayed mostly under control. The weather forecast was calling for rain on Friday, and since Thursday morning's weather was still rather spectacular, other than a significant east wind, I decided to get in a few extra miles along the lakefront bike trail before going home. I ended up with 74 miles and by the time I was on my way home the sky was already getting cloudy. I had been planning on doing a long birthday ride on the levee the following day, but considering the weather was not making any promises to myself or anyone else about that. Also, Thanksgiving evening was going to involve some slightly excessive eating and drinking.

So Friday morning was rainy, as predicted, but the last of the bad weather moved through in the morning and by 8:00 or so it was looking like things would dry up and aside from some wind the feasibility of a long ride was looking pretty good. Charles had asked me to let him know if I was going to go out for a long ride, so I told him I'd be hitting the levee for 9:30. I figured that would give the road a little time to dry out. My optimistic prognostication was soon dashed, however, and by the time I rolled out of the house there was a heavy cold mist starting to fall. I dressed more warmly than I would have otherwise, since I figured I'd be a little wet for a while. As it turned out, I would be much more than a little wet, and for much longer than a little while. Despite the fact that we were essentially riding in a cloud, we headed  up the river at a gentle pace. My only goal was to log at least my age in miles. I kept thinking that the mist would go away, but it never did, and by the time we were halfway out I could feel the water squishing around in my shoes. We continued anyway, riding two-abreast on the deserted bike path, and probably didn't break 20 mph the whole time. It wasn't pretty, but at least I logged 72 miles for my 69th birthday.

Naturally I'd just put on a new tire a couple of days earlier.

By Saturday morning the weather was a little better so I headed out around 6 am for coffee and to meet the Giro Ride. It was still fairly misty and damp, but not quite as bad as it had been on Friday. Going up the Seabrook bridge I somehow managed to impale my rear tire with a big sheetrock screw. Fortunately everyone stopped while I quickly threw in a new tube and got going again. There was a pretty strong east wind blowing, and we were missing a fair amount of the usual Giro horsepower, so the speeds stayed relatively low all the way out to Venetian Isles. Of course that meant there was a tailwind for much of the way back, which of course meant that it got pretty fast even though only a handful of riders were willing to put a whole lot of effort into it. We hadn't gotten to the end of Hayne when someone else flatted, so a few of us stopped to help with that while most of the group continued on, presumably unaware. After that we just got a little paceline going at an easy pace until we saw the group on its way back somewhere out on Chef Highway where we turned around and got back into the pack. I was fairly wet from the mist by the time I got back  home with another 55 miles.

Mississippi Amish??

Charles and Steve had been hatching a plan for another Pass Christian ride for Sunday, so I decided to make the drive over there for a change. I loaded the 68-mile route map into the Garmin early Sunday morning right before jumping in the car. This ride had a small group of about six, and from the first pedal stroke I could tell it was going to be kind of a difficult day for me. The weather was warmer and there was no mist for a change, so that was good. I guess it was really time for an easy recovery ride rather than three hours in the rolling hills. It seemed like half of the group wanted to go a little faster and half a little slower, with me somewhere in the middle trying to cautiously parse out my efforts to avoid doing more damage than I'd already done over the prior three days. The ride was a bit of a struggle for me for some reason - manageable but by no means feeling easy. By the end I knew I'd probably strung together one long day too many and was going to need a couple of easier days to fully recover. So the bottom line for the week, through no fault of my own, was 358 miles, which although not my highest mileage week of the year, was one of the highest. I usually consider a 250 mile week to be a pretty solid one, and indeed my monthly average tends to be around 1,000 miles. Somehow, though, those extra 58 miles seemed to push me just over the edge this time!

More fog on Monday

This morning's Mellow Monday ride had the usual group and once again there was a thick fog here and there, especially along the lakefront. The pace was mostly slower than usual with just a couple of brief surges in the usual places, so thanks to staying mostly off the front, and despite my tired legs, I didn't feel like I'd done any more damage.

Next weekend is going to be complicated. Tulane won their football game last week so they are hosting their conference championship next Saturday. There are cyclocross races up in Ridgeland Saturday and Sunday. I have to take the car in for service on Thursday. Candy bought football tickets for the game on Saturday, so I definitely won't be racing on Saturday (although I'd prefer that to watching a football game). Sunday will be up in the air until I find out if I'll have the car back before the weekend. It's at around 110k miles so aside from the usual oil change it's time for a new timing belt and possibly brakes, and the "check engine" light has been on for about three weeks. That could be the oxygen sensor or something at this point, so until they read the codes on Thursday I won't really have a good idea of what's going on there.

Grass, Asphalt, and Advil

Flat and twisty

There was little about last week that went as planned. OK, well there was actually little that was planned in the first place. One thing that was on my calendar for Tuesday afternoon, however, to get the new COVID-19 booster that was being conveniently offered at work. I had been kind of on the fence about getting this one, and I think if I was 35 years old it wouldn't even have been on my radar. But of course I'm not 35 years old, a fact of which I am painfully reminded daily. That morning it was chilly and dark and overcast, and when I pulled the bike down off the hook I found the rear tire to be flat. It was a sign that I shouldn't have ignored. I quickly grabbed the old Orbea, moved the lights from one bike to the other, and stepped out the door at 5:45 am only to be greeted by a heavy cold mist. I didn't get two blocks before I could feel the mist starting to soak through the two layers I had on my arms and quickly made the executive decision to turn right back around rather than spend a couple of hours trying to get pneumonia. Later that afternoon at work I walked over to the big empty room where they used to do the COVID tests and were now using temporarily for the vaccinations. I'd gotten the first booster about a year earlier, so it had been essentially a full year. Like last time, I awoke in the wee hours the following morning feeling achy and a little feverish. I knew better than to even think about going out to do the WeMoRi and instead took some Advil and tried unsuccessfully to go back to sleep. That Wednesday I stayed home. It was practically a complete write-off as I spent the day with achy joints, headache, and low-grade fever, wondering if the vaccination was really worth it.

By Thursday I was feeling slightly better. The headache was gone but based on the occasional chills I knew I was still running a bit of fever. I bundled up and went out to meet the crew for the Thursday levee ride, intending to drop off the back early and turn around early, which is exactly what I did. For most of that day at work I felt less than stellar, but by Friday morning things were starting to return to normal so I did the usual Friendly Friday ride which was sparsely attended thanks to the cold and wind. Earlier in the week I had been considering going up to Ridgeland MS for the weekend cyclocross races but under the circumstances was still very much on the fence about it when I got home from work on Friday. The forecast was calling for a Saturday morning low right around freezing up there but about twenty degrees warmer at home. The problem, however, was the rain forecast that was getting progressively worse locally but not looking bad at all up in Ridgeland. About an  hour before pre-registration closed I went ahead and registered for the Saturday race. It looked like Sunday would be even colder, and it just wasn't feasible to take the car all weekend anyway.

Not as impressive as it might look

So Saturday morning I got up around 4:30 am, threw the 'cross bike and a whole lot of cycling clothes into the Volvo, and was on the road by 5:00 for the 3-hour drive. It was already raining when I left. The Check Engine light was glowing softly on the dashboard as it has been for a couple of weeks now as I cruised up I-55 in the dark watching the thermometer fall. It eventually got down to 32°F for a bit but fortunately the races didn't start until 9 am and by then there was some sunshine. It was probably around 40° when the masters race started. I had multiple layers on, and I knew I'd be overdressed halfway into the 40-minute race, but as always I'd rather be warm at the finish than cold at the start. Also, aerodynamics and going fast were not considerations at all. The course was all grass, some of it still a little damp. It was extremely twisty and basically all flat, and as usual my focus was on not falling rather than going fast. I succeeded in not going fast but not quite on the not falling part, catching my foot on one of the barriers at one point and hitting the ground rather gently on my knees to the amusement of a couple of spectators. I'd been following another rider for much of the race and quickly caught back up to him during the next lap. As usual, my confidence improved from lap to lap, although it never approached that of the two leaders who quite conveniently lapped the two of us on their final lap, which meant that we finished just behind them. Jay and Elise showed up during the race, so I threw some civilian clothes on top of my riding clothes and we went off for some coffee and pastries, and then headed over to Jay's new house for a while, eventually returning around noon ahead of the Cat. 1/2/3 race that I had decided to do for the exercise. 

As I pulled my bike out of the car I found the front tire was dead flat. I thought I must have pinch-flatted it during the morning race (turned out that it was a leak along one of the tube seams), but anyway I had a spare tube that I quickly put in. By then the sky was more overcast and it actually felt colder to me than it had earlier. There were only four in the 1/2/3 race, including me, plus the women who would be doing one fewer laps. This race was for 60 minutes and I liked that the lines were a little bit worn in and the grass was dry by then, which gave me a little more confidence. Still, for me the race was against just the course and myself as I continue to learn how much I can get away with on cyclocross tires. I still find it rather amazing that I can fly into an asphalt criterium corner at 30 mph with reckless abandon, but am heavily on the brakes coming into a dirt path around a tree at 5 mph. Halfway through the course I went past the Junior rider who was also doing the 1/2/3 race. That was only because he was walking at the time, having flatted his mountain bike's rear tire. As I went through the finish area on that lap Ricky called out, "You're in third place!" which was true. "You're in last place" would have been equally true. Although I felt awkward every time I had to dismount and jump over the barriers, I felt pretty good the rest of the time. I like how snappy the cyclocross bike feels, even though I occasionally hit my foot with the front tire when going really slowly around sketchy sharp turns. After the race Rolando told me that I had won the series jersey, essentially by default since I think you had to ride at least three of the four races to qualify, so somewhere there is a photo of me on the podium with that jersey on. There's also the photo above with me on the podium for Saturday's 1/2/3 race, which looks a lot more impressive than it really was. On the plus side I did get in some nice intensity and skill work on a day that, back in New Orleans, was nothing but rain. If I hadn't gone up to Jackson I probably wouldn't have ridden at all. By the time I was half-way back to town it started raining, and stayed that way. 

Just a few survivors from the windblown Sunday Giro

By Sunday the rain was gone but had been replaced by a brutal northeast wind and colder temperatures. I went out to the Giro knowing turnout would be slim, which it was. When we hit Hayne Blvd. we were struggling to maintain 18 mph. There was a Saints game scheduled for noon and about half of the riders we had on hand had ridden over from the westbank and had already announced their plan to turn off early. Since that would have left us with just four or so riders to battle the wind on Chef Highway, we all turned with them at Bullard to head back early. Nobody was complaining about that. To add a few miles we rode with them out Metairie Road and Central Avenue, where they headed over to take the Huey P over the river while we continued to the levee. I ended up with almost 50 miles for the day which I guess was OK under the circumstances. My legs were a little sore from the cyclocross efforts anyway. 

Weather Worries

It is getting to be that time of year when the weather complicates everything, and most of the images on Strava go from pacelines and sunrises to animated landscapes with questionable Watts/kg numbers. After a fairly routine week of moderate weather that saw a surprisingly large turnout for Friendly Friday, the forecasters left little good news in their upcoming weekend prognostications. A cold front started crawling through Saturday morning with the rain perfectly timed for the start of the Giro Ride, which for all practical purposes did not happen. I waited until around 8:30 when the rain had mostly stopped and headed out to the levee on wet streets, riding the old Orbea for a change. It was overcast and windy and supposed to become even more windy, but I thought I could get in a ride out to the Spillway and back before the colder air moved in. So I dressed a little on the heavy side with knee and arm-warmers and thick base layer, sticking a PayDay bar and my chest protector in my pocket just in case. The wind was already mostly out of the north, so much of the 50+ miles would be crosswind. On the other hand, I was not feeling any need to push myself. November and December have always been more about volume than intensity, at least for me. I was just a couple of miles from the Spillway when the sky got a little darker and the wind a little stronger, and by the time I'd started back a heavy wet mist was starting to fall. I stopped for a moment and stuck the wind barrier inside my jersey, silently congratulating myself for having brought it along. Every now and then a bend in the river would grant me a brief reprieve from the steadily increasing crosswind and my speed would go from 17 to 22 mph even with the meager effort level I was willing to supply. I got home quite wet, despite never having been really rained upon, and quite chilled, despite the low-60s temperature. Still, I was happy to have gotten in some quiet miles on such a dreary day. I was about half-way back when I came up on a cycle tourist towing a trailer at about 8 mph. I stopped and chatted with him for a little while and found that he was on his way from somewhere in Arizona to Key West Florida, having already taken a few side-trips along the way. He soon turned off of the bike path to find the Jefferson Parish Library near Clearview Parkway. I didn't get to ask him why he would be going there.

So by Sunday morning the temperature was in the low 40s and there was a north wind blowing at around 12 mph with gusts well into the 20s, but not real chance of rain. I dug out the long tights and long-sleeve jersey and wool socks and headed to the Starbucks to see what kind of turnout, if any, there would be for the Giro. Although the temperature was entirely manageable, the gusty wind was another matter altogether. We had maybe a dozen riders on hand at the start, but it was tough going along Hayne where just two or three were willing to put their faces into the wind. We were struggling to maintain 17-18 mph, and the advertised north wind seemed actually to be much more out of the east. Near the end of Hayne the front of the group made an executive decision and we all made a U-turn. That immediately precipitated a return trip during which the speed stayed around 31 mph until we got to the overpass. After that we did a fairly easy lap around City Park where it wasn't quite so windy. I ended up riding all the way down Esplanade with Charles and Dan before returning for another lap around the park before heading home to a nice bowl of hot soup.

This morning the temperature was still in the low 40s and the wind was still strong. I got to City Park for the Mellow Monday ride about a minute and a half late. As I turned into the park from Wisner I could see the tail lights of the group just disappearing off toward the Children's museum. Fortunately they weren't going too fast yet and I caught up to them just after turning onto Marconi. Even so, the combined effects of wind, cold, and layered clothing really take a toll on one's speed. As it had been on Sunday, the speed heading east into the wind stayed pretty low, but I knew that as soon as we went around the Armory loop and started back to the west it would pick up dramatically, which of course it did, and the 16 mph quickly ramped up to 27-30 mph. It's looking like morning temperatures will stay in the mid-upper 40s all week with highs in the upper 50s. I'm thinking about the cyclocross races in Ridgeland this coming weekend and wondering if I am really up to making the trip since the morning temperatures Saturday and Sunday will be just below freezing and the highs barely out of the 40s. I'll have to think about that.

November Summer

The Sunday Giro - Lakeshore Drive warmup

It was 5:25 Saturday morning and I was standing in front of the dresser drawer stuffed with cycling clothes, looking for something to wear for the Giro Ride. Earlier, the forecast had been calling for a front with a lot of rain to move through in the morning, but looking at the radar it now looked like it wouldn't come through until closer to noon. The annual Tour da Parish ride that had been scheduled for that day had already been postponed until Sunday because of the forecast. Then Candy walked in from feeding the dog and said, "It's raining outside." Indeed, the street was a bit wet, but the rain was barely a light sprinkle. I thought about it for a minute and, on the assumption that it was just going to get more wet and that nobody would show up for the Giro, threw the clothes back into the drawer and myself back into the bed. Naturally, it didn't rain any more until late afternoon and I could have ridden, even if it had been alone.

Friendly Friday Fog

Anyway, it was clear that Sunday's weather would be fine, and since the Tour da Parish ride had been pushed back until 1:00 pm, I figured I could ride the Giro, chill out at home for a couple of hours, and then head down to St. Bernard for the ride. I would be picking up Josiah, one of the Tulane riders, at 11:15. As expected, the Giro was a little thin attendance-wise, considering that many of those riders were planning on doing the afternoon ride, but there was still a group of 25 or so on hand. The "front" that had come through Saturday evening hadn't brought much in the way of cooler temperatures so everyone was in summer kit for the first day back on Daylight Saving Time. It was nice to have a little light for the ride out to Starbucks after weeks and weeks in the dark. The ride itself was mostly nice and steady - just a bit slower than usual. I got back home with the usual 59 miles a little hungry and thirsty but quite far from tired. That was good because I was expecting the afternoon ride to be fairly fast.

The Tulane riders - their new team kits came in the following day!

We got to the Tour da Parish an hour before the start, as planned. For me, this 50-mile ride would be similar to a regular Giro Ride, just on a different course. For Josiah it would be one of his longest rides ever. Turnout looked pretty good as we wrapped the color-coded wrist bands around our handlebars and pinned on the oddly large numbers that, really, served little purpose since the ride was not timed and there would be no "results" posted. A few minutes before the start I lined in near the front of the group with a subset of Giro riders and four or five of the Tulane riders. To accommodate my split loyalties that day I was wearing my NOBC/Apolline shorts with my Tulane jersey.

capture from TJ's video

These kinds of rides always seem pretty chaotic and sketchy for the first few miles until the speed and course eventually sort the group out generally by fitness level. As expected, there was a surge after we went around the road closure via a short section of crushed rock, but was wasn't expected was the riders who managed to get into the draft of the lead police motorcycle at 29-32 mph. There was a feeble attempt to chase that down, but pretty quickly the rider came back to the group anyway. I was trying to stay closer to the front than the back, and for me it was a little stressful for the next ten or fifteen miles because of the unfamiliar riders. Mary Beth was there on her Specialized E-bike, and there was one other rider there on what looked like the same E-bike. I rode alongside Mary Beth for a while as she remarked, not entirely without good reason, things like, "This is dumb. All of you guys are dumb!" Nevertheless, she was having no trouble staying with the group as we rolled down the narrow strips of asphalt alongside little bayous packed with fishing boats. I would later learn that at one point when there was a brief surge up into the 30s she had accidentally switched the E-bike to "off" instead of "turbo" and lost contact with the dwindling front group. For me, though, it was mostly just a moderate effort, cruising along in the ample draft among the front ten or fifteen riders. If there was a paceline at the front it must have been limited to just a handful of riders because I found myself at the front only a few times.

Allene of Bike Easy

As expected, the speed started to ramp up a bit on the last 6-mile stretch, which is about when I saw Dustin accelerate down the left side to the front. We still had to navigate that little crushed rock bit around the barricades about a mile and a half from the end, and I had no intention whatsoever of risking life or limb there. Naturally, though, I think Dustin attacked there, taking a short-cut through the turn in the grass and surging back up to 28 mph or so. I think he then looked back, saw nobody chasing, and put the hammer down for the last bit. I came through fairly close to the front but got held up a bit by riders ahead of me, so when I got back onto the asphalt there was a pretty significant gap ahead of me to a little group. As I debated the wisdom of putting in the major effort it would take to get up to them in a ride with no places or prizes or results, the E-bike rider came past me on the left. Knowing that he would be easily able to ramp up to 28 mph, the limit of the bike's assist, I figured, "what the hell" and latched onto his wheel. So a minute later we were back in the group just in time to watch a few of them sprint for the "finish" that was marked only by a few police officers standing in the road. All-in-all it was a fun ride with lots of food and drink at the end. All of the Tulane riders survived unscathed, as did I.

Somewhere near the end I had noticed that Charles had disappeared from the front group. After the finish I turned around and rode back in the opposite direction for a mile or so, finally finding him. "I flatted" he said as I passed. Charles and Dan had ridden out to the ride from the French Quarter. I waited around for quite a while until Josiah finished. Just as he wandered off to change clothes and have a drink or something my phone rang. It was Charles. Dan had flatted on their way home and they had had some problems fixing the flat, leaving them without any more CO2, so I gathered up Josiah and we headed off on a little search and rescue mission. Christian, as it turned out, had left a bit before us and seen Charles and Dan at a gas station, so by the time we arrived Dan had decided to just get Christian to give him a ride home. That left Charles to ride back alone in the last bit of sunlight, so instead we loaded his bike into the car to give him a lift back as well since the ride back can be a little sketchy even under the best of circumstances. All was going well until we caught a train in the Bywater and were stopped for the better part of 45 minutes as the sun set. Eventually enough cars drove over the neutral ground to find another way that we were able to turn right and make our way over to Claiborne where there is an overpass over the tracks. So it turned into a long day, but I was happy to have gotten in around 110 enjoyable miles without really doing much damage. 

Tuesday morning on the levee

This morning, Tuesday, we had a visiting rider from Vermont for the morning levee ride. It was still summer-like weather. For some reason my phone hadn't charged overnight so I had left it at home. We started with a pretty good-sized group, ending up with I guess six after some riders turned back early. The way back was into a moderate headwind but we were rolling along at a nice pace anyway. When Martin turned off around River Ridge I looked back and realized that Jared, the visiting rider, was suddenly missing. Then I remembered thinking that his rear tire had looked a little low and figured he must have flatted, which turned out to have been the case. So Charles and I turned back to find him and we were later joined by Martin for a little while. Jared and I then stopped at Zotz on Oak Street for coffee. I hadn't been there since COVID started, so it had been almost two years. By the time I got home Candy was about to go out and search for me since I was a good 45 minutes later than usual and had picked the wrong day not to have my phone which would normally have been showing her my location via Garmin. 

Knobby Ridgeland Weekend

A little cyclocross race up in Ridgeland the weekend before Halloween was looking like perhaps a chance to get the 'Cross bike dirty and work on improving sadly lacking skills. The fly in that ointment, however, was a consistent forecast calling for rain, first on Sunday and then on Saturday, that had me teetering on the fence. I was thinking I'd go up for just one of the two days, ride the masters race, and head back, but then my brother called. He moved recently to Madison and had been planning on retrieving some of my mother's old furniture that has been languishing in my basement for the past 12 or so years to use for one of his daughters, also in Madison, but he'd been super busy repainting the interiors of two houses and basically starting a remodeling of one, so when he heard I was planning on driving up it presented an opportunity. So I went ahead and registered for both days, and on Friday afternoon picked up a rental minivan that could easily accommodate the furniture and my bike. Pre-registration for the race was extremely low, no doubt due to some degree to the forecast. Even so, you'd think there would have been more local riders signed up. I'd ridden the Friendly Friday ride that morning. Earlier in the week I'd gone out to meet the Tulane Wednesday evening ride on the 'cross bike, mainly to make sure everything was working since I'd barely spent any time on it at all and had changed the saddle and made a slight adjustment to the saddle height too.

TUCA riders at Williams Blvd. levee turnaround

The forecast for Saturday was still looking like rain, but at least the temperature would be mostly in the low 60s, and what's a cyclocross race without a little rain and mud anyway. Actually, neither my skill level or motivational level was really consistent with a successful wet CX race, but, you know, what the hell. Indeed, I had no intention of being competitive, and was focusing only on breaking in the "new" bike and not crashing - too much. I drove up Saturday evening and we unloaded the furniture, leaving me with a spectacularly voluminous space for my little bike. The house was only five minutes from the course, and with a 9 am start time I had the rare luxury of heading out the door in actual daylight. My morning training rides have mostly been finishing right around sunrise lately. The weather radar was looking surprisingly encouraging with most of the rain well off to the west and moving eastward at only a snail's pace. It was entirely possible there would be no rain until the afternoon. 

The course for this race was just under a mile around, located at the local BMX park. It was almost all grass, still just a bit damp from the morning dew. I had around 35-40 psi in my 32mm tires, which turned out to be about twice what I needed for this course, but my roadie fears of pinch-flatting were very difficult to fully dispel, even on this relatively gentle terrain that was devoid of roots and sharp edges. I rode a really slow couple of laps to check out the course and found a few rather sketchy (to me) off-camber turns, a couple of very short but steep uphills (no problem), and of course a couple of artificial barriers apparently designed, as they all are, to discriminate against short people. As planned, I started the race pretty much at the back of the very small field that included all of the masters age groups plus some of the juniors. I rode the first couple of laps quite gingerly, trying somewhat unsuccessfully to get used to the SRAM shifters and mountain bike pedals. It wasn't that they weren't working fine, of course, just that I was having difficulty convincing my brain that has been conditioned to Campi shifters for two or three decades to shift (pun intended) to SRAM shifting. As a result there were a number of times when I was going for a lower gear but actually shifted into a higher one. The other issue was that my roadie instincts had me using the front brake way too much, which at one point resulted in me sliding out on an off-camber turn and falling, dropping the chain, hitting my head, and doing something to the CMC joint on my right hand, which still hurts. Fortunately I was way off the back of the real race, and frankly wasn't in all that big of a hurry. I did notice that the front of my shoe was hitting the front tire if I wasn't careful about that going around sharp turns at like 2 mph. It didn't cause any problems, fortunately. As expected, I was lapped at some point which provided the added bonus of having to do one fewer lap! It was a good learning experience and I came away mostly unscathed, earning the dubious honor of winning the 60+ age group by virtue of being the only rider in it. I found that I was really enjoying the flatter more technical parts of the course, and also the sharp uphill sections, but still  had virtually no confidence on the downhills and off-camber grassy turns.  All of the races went off without rain that day, and I hung around for almost all of them. Later that evening the rain finally arrived, but it was looking like it would be all gone by Sunday morning.

The other old guy.

Sunday's races were essentially the same as Saturday's but in the opposite direction. The grass was still fairly damp when my 9 am race got started, but fortunately the prior day's races had at least bedded in a bit of a path on the course that didn't seem quite as slick as it had on Saturday. Considering the fact that there was no place on the entire course where I might reasonably expect to pinch-flat, I dropped my tire pressures down to around 20-25 psi for this one, which turned out to be about right. One other precaution I took was to back off the front brake cable a few clicks to keep my road instincts from locking up the front wheel. I was one of the few riders with actual Cross-legal tire widths, and in fact a lot of people were riding mountain bikes. I started out at the back again so as not to interfere with the two or three riders who were actually good at this. Doing the course in the opposite direction didn't seem all that much different except for that one off-camber turn where I'd fallen the previous day. There was also a steep drop down to a sharp left turn that was a little concerning, at least to me. For that drop I was basically dragging my rear wheel until just before the bottom when I'd finally let go of the brake. I could probably have taken it a lot faster if properly motivated. For that off-camber turn, I was crawling around it, often with my rear wheel sliding a bit here and there, but I felt like I was handling it a lot better than I had on Saturday, probably because I was trying hard not to touch the front brake. Anyway, I ended up finishing second in the 60+, which was also second-to-last in the 60+. I hung around for an hour or so afterward until a brief bit of rain started to fall, which I took to be my cue to load up and head back to New Orleans. So I actually enjoyed riding this course and maybe learned a little bit in the process despite the blazing average speed of like 9 mph over the 40-minute races. Even so, pushing a bike through grass and mud did keep my heart rate up pretty high the whole time.

Monday was Halloween, and as usual my street was fully engaged. I didn't get to rush home from work until about 4:30 or so, and of course the younger kids start showing up around 5:30, so there wasn't a whole lot of time left to make final preparations like lighting candles and setting up fog machines and strobe lights (both of which were underwhelming). 

It always amazes me how many people show up between 6 and 7:30 every year. Then around 8:00 everybody suddenly disappears. Candy had made a huge pot of gumbo, even though we just had a few people coming over to eat. At one point I had to chase the dog down the sidewalk when he snuck out the porch door as I was sliding candy down the "candy chute" to the trick-or-treaters. We had decided to keep the COVID candy chute this year since it would keep the little kids from having to climb up and down the steps, which always worries me a bit. Otherwise, things went fine and the dog was reasonably well-behaved considering all of the action going on around him. Although we gave out a ton of candy, I'm pretty sure there's enough left over for another entire Halloween, which should come as no surprise if you know Candy (the person not the junk food).

Undecided Weather - Tour de Jeff

An early 7:30 am start for the Tour de Jefferson

This is always a complicated time of year around here as Winter seems generally undecided about venturing this far south and spends the better part of two months coming and going. Complicating the whole situation are the extra-dark mornings around the end of Daylight Saving Time, and the fact that the wild swings of morning temperatures never really allow one to fully adjust - physiologically or mentally, mostly mentally. 

This week's cold front dropped temperatures down into the low 50's I guess on Tuesday morning, which wasn't nearly as much of a factor as the unrelenting north wind that battered those of us doing the full distance up on the unprotected levee. Although we'd started out with a pretty big group of eight or nine, the narrow bike path provides decent crosswind protection for only four, and as often happens when you try to cram nine riders at a table for four, those at the back in need of a good draft were left to fend for themselves. At one point early in the ride I dropped back after taking a pull and realized I was getting essentially NO draft back there. Eventually we were down a more manageable group of five to complete the full Tuesday distance.

Wednesday was no better wind-wise, and in fact the wind had already blown the diminutive WeMoRi group apart well before I arrived at LSD and Marconi. Looking to the east for the cluster of headlights yielded nothing but darkness and by 6:12 or so I decided they must have skipped Lakeshore Drive because of the wind or something, so I turned around and headed back down Marconi thinking I might find the group coming the other way. A few minutes later I found Geoff and a couple others so I turned around with them. Apparently the rest of the group was just running very late but doing the full route, so I'd missed them by just a few minutes. So we had a relatively easy ride around City Park and I got back home just a few miles shorter than normal.

Thursday morning the wind had finally died down, although it was still around 50°F at the start which allowed for a pretty normal Thursday levee ride. Friday's Friendly Friday ride had quite a big group for some reason. The temperature was warmer and the wind was light, which made for a nice ride with a few faster sections in the usual places. By Saturday I guess people were starting to think about Sunday's Tour de Jefferson, which always seems to be dominated by the Giro Ride group and practically serves as the annual Alt-Giro Championship, although technically it's not a race, which it totally is for the front group. Anyway, Saturday's Giro was going along nicely until we got onto Chef Highway, stopped at a light, and then the front of the group got onto the bumper of a truck that was accelerating at just the right speed. Those at the back, including me, weren't getting much of a draft and as the speed got up to 32 mph I, and a number of others, dropped off and eventually came together to form a nice paceline, ultimately about a minute and a half behind the front group. Then on the way back we got diverted at the Elysian Fields circle because of some footrace or something and switched over to Leon C and Toussant. Anyway it was a relatively short and non-intense Giro for me.

So Saturday I headed out early for the Tour de Jefferson in order to get a good parking spot (turned out I could have left half an hour later and been fine on that account. It was a little chilly for the 7:30 am start but would warm up quickly once the sun started to rise. As usual, most of the Giro Ride group was in attendance, and looking around at the start I was glad I'd decided to put the race wheels on the bike. I wasn't planning on riding it like a race, but I also didn't want to get dropped when the inevitable gaps opened up after the multiple U-turns on the rather strange course. Over the course of the 50-mile route I don't there there was ever more than four miles between turns. Like last year my main concerns were the traffic cones separating the left from right lanes for much of the route. Every now and then we'd come to one of them that was farther into the right lane than the others which resulted in a number of close calls and at least a couple of people hitting them. Like most non-race races like this the first ten or fifteen miles were, for me, very stressful thanks to the combination of overly enthusiastic riders trying to crowd the front and the ever-present traffic cones and frequent turns. There were also a number of attacks and breakaways resulting is long fast surges. 

Eventually, well almost immediately, one rider (Ben Hall) got clear and things kind of settled down as the still-large group sorted itself out into the front ten or so who were actually willing to put themselves into the wind and the rest of us who weren't. There were a number of attacks and some small groups that dangled off the front for various periods of time, but I think everything was pulled back except for Ben. Rob was up there in one of those groups but something must have happened because we saw him standing by the finish when we went past it at one point. I was glad that I'd created a route from my prior year's Strava data and loaded it onto my computer. I think I did the whole ride with the map screen visible, which I don't normally do. At one point I saw that we were approaching a U-turn and took the opportunity to move way up close to the front. Even so, I had to put in a pretty good effort to close gaps afterward, and I think a few people were dropped after that one. Finally we got back onto the 4-lane road leading to the finish and again people started trying to crowd the front in anticipation of the sprint. Meanwhile others were launching futile attacks way too early down the shoulder or on the other side of the traffic cones. The only casualty was Mary Beth who dropped a wheel into one of those lengthwise seams in a grade-level bridge and went down somewhere behind me (I didn't realize she'd crashed until afterward). She was a bit scraped up but otherwise fine. We finished the 49.9 miles with a typical average speed of 24.4 mph, having spent a fair amount of time in the 26 mph range. Ben Hall finished probably five minutes ahead of the front group, essentially solo I think. After the finish I found Tulane riders Jess and Josiah who had done one of the shorter rides. I hung around for a little while eating Jambalaya and veggies and stuff, but was back home before noon.

Next weekend there are cyclocross races up around Jackson so I need to negotiate with Candy about that, given that we usually have some pre-Halloween preparations to make for Halloween night, which will be Monday this year. I'd like to try out the "new" cyclocross bike on an actual cyclocross course, but have no intention of trying to be competitive in the process. I think the officiating will be covered with Ricky and Rolan and maybe one other official, although I suspect they may all be planning on riding one of the races too, so I might be of some assistance at some point. The masters races are at 9 am both Saturday and Sunday, so it's really just a question of whether I can do both days or just one, and if the latter, which day. 

She situation at the corner a week ago - still unchanged.

Meanwhile back at home the roadwork people had been working regularly on Pine Street for a while, but in typical fashion seem to have abandoned the job once again for some undetermined amount of time, leaving us with a dusty dirt road (still arguably smoother than Pine Street ever was when it was paved). The western part of Neron Place is still a complete closed-off disaster area and although I have always been endowed with an extraordinary level of patience, after two years of this mismanaged incompetent BS it is wearing dangerously thin.

Swamp

Tuesday heading back down the river

It was another low-volume week for me, mainly because of some self-inflicted weekend officiating. Other than that, though, it wasn't too bad. As all of my rides have been lately, Tuesday morning's ride started out in the dark, and although there was a slight hint of Fall in the pre-dawn air, it was still feeling mostly like summer around here. After the ride I had an ad-hoc visit to the dentist again so he could have a look and see if there was anything amiss with that pulled tooth because it was still hurting more than it should have. The consensus was that the clot that normally protects the nerve had gotten dislodged. He changed me from Penicillin to Clindamycin to be on the safe side but it wasn't really until the end of the week that I was able to make it through the day without Ibuprofin.

Slimed

The WeMoRi is now entirely in the dark, start to finish, so as we do our cool-down on Lakeshore Drive we see the sun coming up over the horizon. It seemed like a particularly fast one last Wednesday. Somewhere toward the end I suddenly noticed what felt like raindrops, but looking up at the dark sky it didn't look like it was cloudy. As it turned out, the rider in front of me had punctured his tubeless tire and sealant was spraying out of the hole for a little while until it sealed. I ended up with spots of blue sealant everywhere, but mostly on my helmet. Fortunately, the leak sealed and he didn't even realize he'd punctured until afterward. Of course the back of his bike was splattered with sealant, though.

Thursday morning there was some slight threat of rain which kept the regular group from showing up. We started out with just two and by Williams Blvd. it was just me. The levee trail was a bit damp past there but I never got rained on. In fact, it had been over a month since there had been a drop of rain at my house (we finally got a little rain shower this weekend).

So this weekend was the Swamp Otter Classic over in Chalmette. It's kind of half cyclocross and half gravel with the course running along the levee and floodwall of the 40 Arpent Canal. I was scheduled to officiate, solo, both Saturday and Sunday. For reasons I cannot fathom turnout was very, very low this year. I think that while the larger bike racing areas are bouncing back fairly well from the COVID disruption, the smaller ones like LAMBRA are having a really hard time getting people back into the racing scene. At any rate, I think we had maybe 20 people altogether for each day. Considering how much work goes into setting up even a simple cyclocross course like this one, and then putting on the event, it is getting hard for the clubs and race directors to justify putting on races. Classic self-fulfilling prophecy stuff. Because of the low turnout a lot of the races and categories were combined, so the start was pushed back by an hour or so and it went from I think five separate races to three (and then only two on Sunday).

Anyway, the riders who did race had a pretty good time, I think, and of course the combination of the relatively long lap length and the small fields made officiating pretty easy. For Saturday's race I loaded the generator into the car, along with the tent, chair, table, camera, computer, clock, etc., etc., but planned on using my Jackery 300 power station to see how it would handle running the camera, laptop, and clock. The latter two have their own batteries, so I was pretty confident it would make it through the four hours, but wanted to have the generator on hand just in case. I'm sure that if I had to also run a P/A system it would have been a problem, but I'll save that for another day. As it turned out, I still had about 70% at the end of the day, so it handled everything easily. I should probably spring for the solar panels as well, but they are kind of expensive. As a result, I left the generator home for Sunday's race. For such a small race, neither the camera or clock were really essential anyway, and Townsend was transferring my hand-written results into the results workbook way over at the registration table anyway (where they did have a P/A system and generator). Later that evening I ran into all sorts of trouble uploading results and completing the post-event report on the USAC site. Parts of the system think the event was a single day while other parts know it was two days. They are still running both their Legacy and New systems and the two are increasingly out of sync as they are finally, after four years, nearing the end of the transition.

For this event I brought my new-to-me cyclocross bike, mainly so I could get around because the finish line and registration table aren't close to each other and the bathroom is even farther away. Although I didn't bring any cycling clothes or shoes or anything I did ride around a bit on the bike just for fun. Along the way I noticed that one of the jockey wheels was cracked all the way through, so I ended up ordering a new set and while I was at it a pair of 40mm gravel tires in case I get a chance to do some of that. The tires on the bike right now are "cross-legal" 32s. 40 is probably overkill for me but they were on sale.

The weather forecast is saying that Winter will be arriving down here tomorrow with a low in the upper 40s, although that's probably what they'll see on the northshore and it will be ten degrees warmer down here on the south side of the lake. Of course this means we'll have a strong north wind to deal with for a few days, and I guess I'll have to dig out the knee-warmers and arm-warmers and gloves and stuff for a couple of days, after which it will be summer again. 

Extraction

Wednesday morning cool-down on the lakefront

The week started out well, but I knew it wouldn't last. On Tuesday we had a good-sized group for the morning levee ride, which is to say that there were still more than two of us left to do the full distance. Although last week's wind had died down, it wasn't entirely gone, and even though it was largely out of the north, its easterly vector was hard to ignore on the return trip. I wasn't sure but I thought that might be my last longish ride for a couple of days because I had a dreaded dentist appointment scheduled for Wednesday morning. Fortunately, I'd have time to do the WeMoRi and still get there before 9 am.

Heading back from Ormond Tuesday morning

So I headed out on Wednesday in the relatively comfortable 70°F darkness, arriving at Lakeshore drive in just enough time to catch the group that showed up a good two minutes earlier than usual. As it turned out, things has started out uncharacteristically fast that day, and indeed I would find they would stay that way. In the blink of an eye I went from 15 mph to 28 mph as my lackadaisical physiology attempted to get on terms with my legs, a process that seems to take longer and longer with each passing year. Eventually, though, all systems achieved equilibrium as I tucked myself into the draft back in the cheap seats. I knew I shouldn't stay there, but the pace was fast and I wasn't feeling too motivated, which is always a bad combination. We came back around to Lakeshore Drive where the pace was hovering in the 27-28 mph range, which seemed more than adequate for my purposes that day, even at the back. As we approached the Elysian Fields traffic circle I found myself on Judd's wheel, way, way at the back of the strung-out paceline. As we started around the circle I noticed a gap slowly opening ahead of him and knew I should go around ... but didn't. By the time we'd completed the 180 I knew I was in trouble. I finally went around and made a feeble effort to close, but at the speed the group was going it was clearly impossible, so I backed it off and cruised in the last couple of miles as the group rode off in the distance. It wasn't until we we were on the cool-down and heading the opposite direction that the sun finally came up. The sky was a bright red, which seemed appropriate considering what was to come later that morning.

The visit to the dentist was predictably unenjoyable, as it involved removing a large but cracked tooth using various implements that might be generally considered more suitable for automotive repair jobs. Fortunately I'd been given enough Novocain, or whatever they use nowadays, that the whole left side of my face would be numb until mid-afternoon. It was an easy decision to work from home that day. When the anesthetic finally wore off I took a couple of Tylenol and had a smoothie. So now I'm on Penicillin for a week and then another appointment in two weeks to see how the bone graft is doing. Wednesday night was uncomfortable, and although I skipped riding I went ahead and went to work. That actually went fine. I had another smoothie for lunch and later that evening made a salad for dinner. Surprisingly things were still pretty painful last night so I skipped another day of riding. I'll probably go ahead and do the Giro tomorrow. Hopefully it will all feel a little better by then. 

I've still not ridden the cyclocross bike more than around the block, so hopefully I will be able to take it out for a proper shakedown this weekend. The Swamp Otter races are the following weekend, although I think I will probably be too tied up officiating them to race. Perhaps I will try to make one or two of the Spooky Cross races in Jackson the 29th and 30th, although there could be complications with Halloween preparations since that's on the following Monday. Frankly, one day of cyclocross would likely be more than enough for me.

Windy Week

Riders arriving at the rest stop just upriver from the Spillway with around 125 miles
already in their legs.

Fall weather, and I use the term "Fall" in its broadest sense here in New Orleans, is always a bit of a compromise. As the occasional cool fronts move through they tend to keep the hurricanes, such as Ian that did a lot of damage on the west coast of Florida, at bay. Also, they bring in some nice dry air so that the locals can briefly experience the sensation of sweat actually evaporating. But of course there's the downside. For one thing, I don't think we've had any significant rain around here in a month. I've actually had to water the expensive new plants in front of the house that I recently put in to replace the ones that the Roadwork crew destroyed and the big 35+ year old Camelia that just mysteriously died. As a cyclist, though, the things you notice most about the arrival of Fall are the morning rides in the dark and the relentless wind. It seems like we've had wind out of the northeast to northwest for over a week straight.

After a cool but very windy Tuesday morning ride where most people turned back early, or didn't show up at all, I went out to meet the WeMoRi on Wednesday into a strong north wind. I knew from experience that the group would be smaller than usual, but I was a little surprised to find just two headlights coming down Lakeshore Drive when I got there. I got in with them and wondered if they had been the only ones to show up. Neither was pushing the pace, and we cruised down Wisner at an easy 23 mph, looping around the park and onto Marconi where we stopped for the traffic light at Harrison. At that point a few more riders caught up. As it turned out, the small group of ten or so that had started got shattered into bits and pieces in the crosswind on Lakeshore Drive. I guess the wind on the lakefront was blowing around 10 mph and as I'd ridden from the bridge to Marconi earlier I had felt the spray from the waves crashing against the seawall. When we came around to Lakeshore Drive again it was an easy decision to bail out onto Wisner rather than continue to Elysian Fields as usual. I did another lap around City Park and went back to Lakeshore Drive to take a photo or two, which ended up being a short video of the water coming over the seawall and flooding much of the road between Marconi and Canal Blvd. So it was kind of an aborted WeMoRi this week. Thursday's shortened levee ride was just slightly less windy, and the northeast wind made for a long slog back with just Charles and me. Friendly Friday was, like may Friday rides are for me, an exercise in expending the minimal amount of energy to avoid being dropped. For some reason there's always somebody who wants to go fast on Friday. I was already planning some significant extra mileage for the weekend, so a hard Friday ride was not something I wanted.

Jess is a new Tulane rider

This was the weekend for Sunday's NOMA to NOMA ride which is now an annual event in which riders do a long 150+ mile loop around Lake Pontchartrain starting at 6 am on Sunday. A good number of the usual Giro riders were signed up for that, so that made the Saturday and Sunday Giro Rides a little easier than usual. Even so, there was still that mostly northerly breeze. My plan for Sunday was pretty simple. As I'd done the prior year I planned to ride the Giro, stop briefly at home to pick up water and carbs, and then ride up the river to the Spillway to watch the first groups of NOMA to NOMA riders come through. Last year I'd left home around 10:30, arrived at the spillway around 11:45, and watched the first riders come through around noon. This year I was scheduled to meet a couple of the Tulane riders up on the levee at 10:15. I figured we'd be going a little slower than I would have on my own, but felt pretty confident that we'd be at the Spillway before the first riders came through. As it turned out only Jess was there at 10:15. The other rider has been late and missed us by probably just a minute or two. There was moderate NNE wind when we started, so the ride felt fairly easy at a nice gentle 18-19 mph. We picked up Steve for a while but he turned off at Ormond to go home.

We were around NORCO, still a mile or two from the Spillway, when the lead group of three, containing Brett, came flying past. I looked at my watch and realized that they were probably over half an hour ahead of last year. As planned we arrived at the Spillway right at 11:45, by which time a few more riders had come through. We went ahead and crossed the spillway as a small group that included Charles, who finished 7th, came through. Then we stopped for a while at the rest area / feed zone at Montz Park just on the upriver side of the Spillway. While we were there another group came through, and I thought we might be able to tag along behind part of that as the got rolling again but the pace was a little too fast for Jess, so we backed off to an easier speed of 17-18 mph. Then my computer battery died at around 93 miles. On the way back a number of other riders passed us, and just before I exited onto Oak Street a small group of two, including Bo, came past. I caught up to them on Oak Street and rode with them for a bit until I turned off at S. Claiborne to head back home. I'd started Strava on my phone when my Garmin died, so a little arithmetic told me I'd logged around 115 miles for the day, most of which was at a pretty easy pace. Still, it was more than adequate to dismiss any feelings I might have been harboring about feeling left out of the 150-mile ride - or race. 

I learned there had been a big crash somewhere on Highway 22, but fortunately no serious injuries except to carbon-fiber. The leaders finished in around 6:45 for the 148+ miles, if Strava is to be believed, which was considerably faster than last year. Official results should be available today, maybe. One rider I was a little worried about was Allene from Bike Easy whose preparation for this type of thing had been minimal to say the least. I was happy to find that a friend had followed her on Hwy. 22 and that she had indeed finished in somewhere around 14 and a half hours. That must have felt like a much harder effort to her than finishing in 6:37 had felt to the leaders!

Meanwhile in other news, I finally broke down and bought a Blue Norcross cyclocross bike. Granted, it's ten years old and has rim brakes, but I think it'll be more than adequate for my purposes and of course it was pretty cheap. I haven't really ridden it yet, but perhaps I will go for a spin one evening this week. With some many of the roads in Carrollton torn up there should be plenty of readily available "gravel."