Finished with February

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

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

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

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

Disappointing Week

There were a few foggy mornings this week.

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

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

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

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

Rapidly Approaching

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When the Rain Falls

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

Mario

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

The rain bike

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

When the Sun Shines

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

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

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

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

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

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

Plasticity

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

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

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

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

The incoming Tulane president

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

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

Half Week

NOBC Training Camp group heading out on the Trace

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

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


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


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

A stop at Church Hill to regroup

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

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

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



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

Winter Giro Rides

It was 5:45 am on Saturday morning and I was staring out the window at the streelights reflecting off of the damp street.  The temperature was warmer than I'd expected, but it was still cold - around 36 as I recall.  It took a good five minutes to come to the decision, but I rolled out the door into the dark, turned on the lights, zipped up the wind vest I as wearing on top of my winter jacket, and headed out to Starbucks wondering how big of a group we'd have.  By 7:00 there were only six but we headed out anyway.  Just then Norman pulled up.  He had driven in from Baton Rouge and because parts of the Interstate were closed due to ice and the understandable lack of Louisiana road salt spreaders he had taken some long detours.  We waited for him to get going.  Seven riders is a really, really low turnout for a Giro Ride, but it had been raining heavily during the night and the temperature was in the 30s, so I wasn't too surprised.  Fortunately I was pretty well outfitted for the conditions.  This turned out to be a really nice smooth paceline ride.  Although we started out with everyone pulling through, by the time we were halfway down Chef Highway it was down to three at the front.  Every now and then I'd skip a rotation to get a little recovery, but otherwise it was a good pace for me.  Coming back, I think Brett and Brian Bourgeois did most of the work.  All the way back down Chef Highway I was telling myself I should get out from behind VJ's comfy draft and go take some pulls but it wasn't until much later that I was finally able to actually get up there.  Anyway, it felt like a good workout to me and I arrived home with my vest in my pocket feeling pretty good.

Saturday night was the annual NOBC party. I went with my daughter and had a good time there but by the time I got home I was more than ready for bed.

We have our annual training camp next weekend up at Natchez State Park where we also did the Tulane training camp a couple of weeks ago.  I am hoping the weather will be OK.  Right now the City of New Orleans is bracing for another round of sub-freezing weather with the accompanying road closures due to ice.  They have already announced that schools will be closed tomorrow and possibly Wednesday as well.  I don't think it will be too much of a big deal for those of us in the city who don't have to commute to work over various bridges, but since they are expecting some freezing rain, or sleet, or snow, or all three, it might be a repeat of last week when the Interstates and Causeway were shut down.

So Sunday's Giro was entirely different.  The temperature had warmed up into the 40s, resulting in a pretty big turnout.  Although the pace in general was faster than Saturday's had been, I probably did less actual work, being mostly content to hide in the middle of the pack and make only brief efforts at the usual sprint locations.  On the way back down Bullard half of us caught the light at I-10 so there were riders kind of scattered all over the place.  The pace is always easy along there, so it wasn't a problem.  I knew we'd all come back together by the time we got to Hayne Blvd.  Apparently Mike W, once again riding his TT bike that lacks actual handlebars (he has only the aero-bars, so it's more like the tiller on a boat than the handlebar on a bike) had ridden off the front well ahead of us.

As we approached Hayne we could see a group of riders in the middle of the road and when we got there it was apparent that Mike had crashed.  He was still lying on the concrete.  This is the third time I've seen him go down by himself like that.  I was at least glad that there had been nobody immediately behind him when he lost control of the handlebarless bike. The next time he shows up for a group ride on that thing I suspect some riders are just flat out going to refuse to ride.  Anyway, he looked pretty dazed and I fully expected he'd be hauled off by ambulance, but eventually he got up, decided nothing was broken, rather tenderly remounted his bike and limped home.  His helmet apparently looked OK and he said he had been doing something with his arm-warmers when his hand slipped off the handlebar (I use the term loosely).  Most of the group went on ahead once he was back on his bike, although a couple stayed with him to make sure he stayed safe.  Had he been anyone else, I think the whole group might have ridden in with him, but frankly I think a lot of riders were having some trouble generating a whole lot of sympathy under the circumstances.  I was one of them.  Coming out to a group ride on that bike, which I think is virtually uncontrollable if something unexpected happens, is a significant danger to everybody, especially considering Mike's well-known challenges with riding in a straight line.  There are a few other riders who show up with TT bikes, but when they're in the pack they ride on the bullhorns, and when they ride on the aero bars they ride on the side of the group or at the back in a predictable manner.  I know, because I often find myself behind them.

An hour or so after I got home I was on the road to Baton Rouge for an organizational meeting to establish a Baton Rouge Velodrome Association.  I think they're on the right track with this and hopefully the end result will be a more active racing calendar that includes some races large enough to attract track riders from velodromes in Texas, Georgia and Florida, among others.  There is still much to be put in place, of course, but I expect that the first step of establishing the nonprofit corporation will be done very soon. At the meeting they set up the 5-member Board of Directors and elected a President and Treasurer, so it is finally looking like it will actually happen.  There is still the major issue of coming to terms with BREC, which owns the facility, but I think there is sufficient room for flexibility that it can be accomplished.  Should be interesting.  Coincidentally, I happened to see the brief writeup of the first state championship track races that were held in that velodrome.  It was in 1985, shortly after it had been finished for the national Olympic Festival.

Just Words

No photos today; just words.  Sometimes I just can't force myself to go to the effort of pulling out my camera in order to take another picture of the regular group on a regular ride on a regular Thursday.  This particular regular ride had certainly not started out so regularly, however.  I'd decided a couple of days ago that I'd drive the car out to the Jefferson Playground, which is about two miles up the river from where we normally meet, or where we used to normally meet, depending on whether you are atop the levee or cowering from the traffic on River Road. 


So we drove out to Dakin St. a few minutes early this morning and waited in the parking lot there.  Brian had said yesterday that he would follow anyone who wanted to ride out past the construction zone in order to keep the cars and trucks from trying to pass on the narrow shoulderless roadway that is River Road.  It sounded like a good plan and I figured I may as well follow along too, forming sort of a rolling enclosure mini-caravan.  Soon enough Rich and two others arrived and we pulled in behind them as they rolled up the road at 20 mph.  I was immediately behind them and Brian was behind me with his hazard flashers on.  We had to get them only 1.2 miles down the road before they would be able to ride up the access road at Shrewsbury to the bike path.  As we approached Ochsner I looked in the mirror to see five or six cars behind us, a few of which soon turned off toward the hospital.  Things were going smoothly until we got close to where the riders needed to turn left across traffic to pick up the access road.  Just as they started to prepare to turn a dump truck decided it was the ideal time to pass both cars and the bikes.  It was also the time that Rich decided it was time to turn left. Behind me Brian saw it coming and eased over to the left to try and slow the overtaking truck which had no discernible effect other than to make the truck pass a little farther to the left. So I see Rich turning left right in front of the Dump Truck that has by now almost pulled even with me and I'm thinking how lucky his survivors are that there will be a couple of witnesses on hand to document his demise. In my head I see that Michael Hingle commercial that's been running on TV for the past ten years.  I should add that there is a solid double yellow center line all along this stretch of River Road.   Somehow he made it across ahead of the truck and the other two riders coasted until the truck passed and they could make a U-turn to get back to the access road.  It was way too close for comfort.


After parking next to the River Road Flea Market, across from the playground, we put on shoes and helmets and headed out, probably ten minutes later than usual.  We got a nice paceline going as the speed very gradually increased to about 24 mph.  At precisely 10.5 miles Danielle took a pull and then dropped off.  I know it was at 10.5 miles because my Garmin had paired with her heart rate monitor at the start, and the heart rate line went flat when she dropped off.  Then, somewhere between the little dip and the big dip I think, Brian got a flat.  After his triple flat experience earlier in the week he had indulged in a brand new tire and tube when he had now broken in with a puncture.  That delay allowed Danielle to catch up to us, but she was already planning on turning back to do some intervals.  By then we were running so late that we decided to turn around at the Luling bridge instead of going all the way to Ormond.  At least that allowed us to pick up the Destrehan Gang just before we turned back.  So overall, the morning ride consumed about fifteen minutes more than usual for me, while providing about fewer riding miles.  On the other hand, I was not squashed by a speeding dump truck. Sometimes life is just a big unavoidable compromise.

Good Clothes and Winter Rides

The recent long weekend turned out to be great for riding, especially considering it is mid-January and much of the country is under about fifteen feet of snow.  We had earlier in the week planned a no-drop club ride on the northshore for Sunday, so when I headed over to Starbucks early Saturday morning for the Giro Ride I was not planning on taking it too easy. I had left home just a bit under-dressed since I was expecting to be burning a few calories over the subsequent few hours.  The ride itself was a fairly typical Giro.  There was a nice big group, the pace was brisk enough for a good workout for those who wanted one, a small contingent went out to Slidell, and I arrived back home feeling like I had been on a three-hour bike ride.

There was a time not that long ago when my winter cycling wardrobe was pretty severely limited.  I had one pair of long tights, one long-sleeved winter jersey, a wind vest, and a pile of summer stuff.  One can certainly still get by without a big collection of winter riding gear, but I have to say that the new stuff really does make life a lot better.  For Christmas I received a few "technical" fabric base layer shirts.  Adding those into the mix that includes my trusty Giordana winter jacket, long-sleeve thermal jersey, thermal bib tights, knickers, etc., I can pretty easily accommodate weather to at least the low 30s, which generally speaking is about as bad as it gets around here.  The new stuff is so, so much better than the old stuff from years gone by.  I do not miss the wool jerseys, cotton shorts, leather chamois, broken shoelaces, cotton-mesh and leather gloves, and especially the unyielding leather saddles.  It's all suitable nostalgic, of course, but please don't make me actually ride with it in anything but a inner-city antique bike ride!  Of course, all that winter stuff is expensive, and it's taken me quite a few years to accumulate it all, but since our winter really lasts only about three months, I get a lot of years out of most of it.  By the time I get to the end of January I'm already reluctant to replace any of it that needs replacement since I'm generally comparing the cost of a clothing item I'll use for only another three or four weeks with those new tires I need or that saddle that is worn through or all those increasingly expensive entry fees.  Anyway, suffice it to say that Over the past five or six days I've been riding in temperatures ranging from around 30 to around 65 and in general have quite comfortable.

So anyway, on Sunday Carly and Miles met Danielle and me to drive across the lake for the NOBC ride.  Although it was chilly at the start (kickers, double jerseys and arm-warmers) the sky was clear and it was supposed to warm up from the 40s to the 60s during our planned 65 mile ride.  We started with a large group of twenty that included a few riders, like Ben and Stephen, who were planning on splitting off after the first ten miles.  I was also expecting the rest of the group to split permanently at some point during the ride. Carly is most comfortable at around 16 mph right now and Miles was riding in sneakers with a borrowed helmet.  I was planning on riding herd at the back once they started to tire.

Passing the Firetower and heading down to Enon

As planned, everyone stayed together over the firetower hill and down past Enon, but by the time we were on Hwy 1072 gaps were starting to open on the hills.  The pace wasn't fast, but I knew a few of the riders in the group didn't have nearly the miles in their legs for a 3.5 hour 20 mph ride in the hills.  It was fine, though, because it turned out as I expected and even before the halfway point I was a minute off the back helping keep Miles and Carly within range.  At Hwy. 10 I debated taking a shortcut with them, but instead decided it would be better for them to finish the full distance, even if that meant doing a lot of it at 10 mph, which it did.  Way up on the north section of the route, where there are a few significant climbs, I found myself in-between Carly and Miles.  Carly was rolling along at maybe 12-15 mph ahead of me, but behind me Miles, who had been riding fairly strongly for the most part, was suddenly riding in slow motion.  I knew what that meant.  At first I eased up hoping he would catch me and I could pull us both up to Carly, but I was down to about 10 mph before he started making up ground. I eased up even more and when he pulled alongside I asked if he'd had anything to eat.  As I'd suspected, he hadn't and was now surely and profoundly bonked.  I pulled a powerbar out of my pocket, took one bite for myself and handed him the rest.  Then, when we to the Sie Jenkins Road to regroup Mignon gave him a piece of a Snickers bar.  That rejuvenated him quite nicely for the next ten or fifteen miles or so.  Things finally came apart again around the firetower hill and so the last seven or eight miles were pretty slow.

Crossing the Spillway heading upriver to LaPlace

The next morning was MLK day and I was off from work.  David had posted a note that he was going to ride up the river levee past the spillway to pick up the six or seven miles of paved bike path upriver from LaPlace.  That would work out to a ride of about 70 miles, and although my legs were actually a little stiff I decided to meet him at the quite civilized hour of 9:30 am by which time the weather was really nice.  I wore knee and arm-warmers with the plan of removing the knee-warmers for the return trip.  We ended up with a bit over 70 miles, including a mile or two of gravel/rock between the upriver end of the spillway and the start of the bike path up there.  It wasn't a hard ride - we averaged under 17 mph - but the weather was great.  By the time we were halfway back my neck and upper back were hurting pretty significantly, which has become the status quo over the past couple of months, especially after three 60+ mile rides in a row.

We're trying to get Danielle's Cannondale more or less race ready and the first thing we wanted to do was to find handlebars with a shorter reach and drop.  That was not an easy task since she's riding 36 cm bars.  We settled on some Bontrager Race VR-S bars that have about the shortest reach and drop I've ever seen, and also picked up a 8cm Zipp Service Course SL stem from eBay.  Next was a second set of wheels, also from eBay - a pair of unused 650c Bontrager Race Lite wheels that were pretty inexpensive.  It would be nice to swap out the triple chainring for a double, but that may be a somewhat thorny problem considering it's 9-speed, 165 crankarm length, would require a new bottom bracket, and possibly a new shifter or shifters.  It would have to be practically free at this point to make it feasible.

To the Moon

The moon slipping down toward the horizon as the sun rises behind us.

I went out Thursday morning to, hopefully, meet the 6:15 am group for the long levee ride.  We are all still experimenting with morning ride options, so I really had no idea who might be there.  As it turned out there were a few riders waiting at Dakin Street, so with tail lights flashing we waited for a break in the fairly light morning traffic and just took the lane.  At around 22 mph we were passed by only a couple of impatient, possibly suicidal, drivers.  I was surprised that Brian, who was at the front, didn't stop right after Ochsner to ride up the grass and instead continued another half mile or so to the first road leading up the levee.  That meant we had to stop at the traffic signal at Causeway and get a little tangled up with the traffic there.

Anyway, the ride itself was very smooth.  We picked up a few more riders when we got up to the bike path, so it was mostly just smooth 22 mph paceline out toward the setting moon and back.  On the way back we stayed on the bike path, dropping down on the grass just before the Ochsner pipes.  A car let us in and we just rode that last mile single-file without much of a hassle.  It's not really something I'd like to do alone, but with a little group it wasn't too bad, especially since traffic isn't moving all that fast there.  Of course there was that one asshole who just *had* to pass us even if it meant risking a head-on collision with oncoming traffic.  Naturally, we caught back up to the dumbass by the time we got to Oak Street where traffic always slows to a crawl anyway.

This morning I met Ben and Ben over at Tulane's Reily Center for a 6 am recover ride out to the lakefront with a stop at the Fair Grinds Coffeehouse.  We rode out on Carrollton which was fairly quiet except for the  usual game of chicken at the Palmetto on-ramp to I-10.  On the way back we opted for Jeff. Davis which is still all torn up.  When are they going to put the new asphalt on that street?  It's been months.

Alone Again

The Wednesday morning levee ride didn't happen today, unless me riding alone counted. After getting rained out on Monday, I planned on making the 6:15 am Tuesday ride, although given the still-unresolved levee bike ride crisis I wasn't too sure what would happen.  Unfortunately I got out there a few minutes late.  This sometimes happens for my first morning ride after a weekend road trip.  In this case I spent some time unsuccessfully searching for my missing headlight underneath the car seat, only to have Danielle show up and tell me it was upstairs in her room because she had removed it before we put the bikes on the roof of the car last Friday.  She decided to go do intervals out by Audubon Park, so I would be riding alone.  By then I had about five minutes to get to the levee, which I knew was impossible.  Well, as it turns out the traffic going upriver on River Road is pretty light at that hour and I was able to ride on River Road past the construction zone during which time only three cars passed me.  When I got up onto the levee I could see the cluster of blinking red lights that was the morning ride.  It was about a minute and a half up the road, so I knew that no amount of time-trialing was going to allow me to close that gap once they started rolling.  Even so, I could still see them half an hour later, but past Kenner the gap grew to the point that they were gone.  I turned around at the Destrehan bridge as they were coming back and rode back with the group listening to Howard harassing Brian, apparently for not staying on his wheel each time he would hit the front of the paceline and surge 1-3 mph faster than the consensus speed.  Before getting back to the new end of the bike path near Ochsner we regrouped and basically took the lane on River Road on the way back. It seemed to work pretty well since traffic wasn't moving very fast anyway.

Well, things were different this morning.  I got out to River Road at 6:40 and there was not a bike to be seen.  There were, however, lots of cars travelling upriver at around 35 mph.  There was no way I was riding alone on that shoulderless truck-laden road under those circumstances, so I waited until I could cross over to the river side to ride on the strip of grass between the temporary construction zone fence and the road.  That would have been fine except for the fact that much of it was soaked with water.  It was rideable, barely, and I could see lots of bike tire ruts in the mud the whole way, but it was not fun.  Fortunately it is only about a mile long so after six or seven minutes of impromptu cyclocrossing I was back up on the bike path. The path was deserted other than the strong north wind and myself.  I guess it was good that it was windy because otherwise I might have just soft-pedaled the whole ride.  As it was, I was struggling to maintain 17-18 mph most of the way out, sometimes unsuccessfully.  The ride back offered up a little more in the tailwind department, but of course I had to contend with that last mile in the muddy, soggy grass.  By the time I got home the bike was a bit of a mess, enough so that I took the hose to it in order to remove the dried grass and mud despite the fact that I probably never exceeded 10 mph.  So the lesson learned today was that riding on the grass alongside River Road is not good when it's wet, which is probably most of the time.  It's almost enough to get me up even earlier to meet the WeMoRi.  Almost.

Winter Camp

We pulled up to David's house at 5 pm on Friday and a few minutes later we were on our way up to Natchez State Park for the LSU/Tulane cycling winter training camp.  A few minutes after that David started remembering the things he had forgotten to bring, which included such items as the crockpot he was planning to use for dinner on Saturday and, more troubling, his riding shoes.  Fortunately, Kenny was planning on driving up early Saturday morning with a couple of other riders and stopped by David's place to pick up the stuff.  D and I had already made a grocery store run for the planned six or seven riders we were expecting.  Unfortunately, riders were dropping out like crazy at the last minute and we ended up with exactly two actual team riders, plus Kenny and myself.  Basically we ended up paying for one cabin that we didn't really need.  On the plus side, however, the weather forecast that had looked really bad earlier in the week had been revised and we were expecting a little cool front to come through Friday night followed by two days of very nice riding weather.  We were not disappointed in that regard.

Despite a rather rainy drive up to Natchez, we arrived early enough to get together with the LSU riders in the next-door cabin for a while, lube the chains on the bikes that had been on the roof of the car, and get to sleep at a reasonable hour.  The plan was to start breakfast at 7 am and hit the road at 8:30.

Saturday morning it was still a little cloudy and the roads still wet, but the rain was gone and the temperature was in the shorts-or-knickers range.  We scrambled up a big batch of eggs and everyone was ready to ride by 8:30.  Unfortunately Kenny had listened to his Garmin which had directed him down the unpaved Tate Road (this happens to everyone coming to Natchez State Park from the east), and we were also waiting for Curtis Moroney, who lives in Natchez, to join us, so I guess we were half an hour late getting started.

The planned ride up the Natchez Trace and then back around the Church Loop was designed to be more about practicing paceline than intensity and in that regard it worked out well.  The Trace is all silky smooth asphalt with minimal traffic (I think it was half an hour before we saw a car), and all of the hills are graded, so there's nothing particularly steep.  This makes it fairly easy to maintain a nice double paceline, which we did for most of the ride.  Toward the end, Danielle's legs were about cooked thanks to a serious lack of mileage over the prior few weeks, so she was really struggling on the climbs as her quads started to lock up.  I dropped back to keep her rolling and minimize the gap, which worked out pretty well. After we got back to the cabins for showers and food, Kenny, David and Danielle took off on a beverage run to Natchez, which is about twelve miles away, while I hung around to watch the LSU team play foot-down in the grass beneath the dam.  Meanwhile the Saints were having their own struggles with Seattle.  That night we all got together for a big pasta and salad dinner at the LSU cabin, followed by an interminable game of To the Moon that was so exciting I fell asleep and eventually wandered off to bed.

Sunday morning the temperature was cooler - I guess in the low 40s at sunrise.  The sky was clear blue, however, and by the time we where half an hour down the road we all knew we'd overdressed.  The plan, which had been changed the night before, was to take the long way around to Natchez, coming into town by way of Cemetery Road which runs along the high east ridge overlooking the Mississippi, make a trip through the old historic cemetery, and stop for coffee at the Natchez Coffee Company on Franklin Street.  Unfortunately, we took a wrong turn along the way, backtracked and missed the correct turn again, then finally found our way to the correct road(s).  I had ridden most of the route the year before, but had not taken the Cemetery Road route.  As it turned out, Cemetery Road was unpaved for the first couple of miles.  Luckily it was nice hard-packed dirt most of the way, so it wasn't a problem at all.  After a half hour stop at the coffee shop, we returned via the Trace, making for a ride of just under 50 miles.   The group stayed together at a moderate to easy pace nearly all the way back, but after turning off of the trace a few riders split off the front.  As we entered the park I decided to bridge up to them, which was about the time they decided to race all the way back to the dam. I caught one of them who had been dropped about half-way there and we bombed the downhills, bud didn't catch the other two until they eased up near the cabins.

So it was a really nice weekend of riding, even if the mileage and intensity was dialed down a bit from a more typical January weekend.  I was kind of looking forward to a recovery pace ride this morning but another front came through around dawn and it rained until around 1 pm, which was about when my pants started to dry out from my commute to work.  Tomorrow should be sunny and colder. Since they have closed off the construction area on the levee and are apparently threatening people who jump the fence with arrest, I will probably go out tomorrow and see if it's feasible to ride the mile past the construction area on the grass, or perhaps if there's a group, on River Road.  Riding alone on River Road in the dark, however, is not, in my opinion, an option that is compatible with survival. I am hoping that riding the grass is a reasonable possibility because my other options are to play in traffic on Carrollton Avenue or drive out to Jefferson Playground, which would cost me quite a bit of precious early morning riding time (and sleep).  We'll see how it goes, I guess.

Alternatives

Well it finally happened on Tuesday.  No, I don't mean that my pipes broke because the temperature dropped into the 20s.  What finally happened was that the levee construction crew started tearing up the bike path at the Orleans/Jefferson parish line, which is basically where we have been starting our morning rides for the past ten years or so.  Since the construction zone extends about a mile upriver from there, and since there are no other safe roads that bypass that area, I find myself looking for alternatives.  One possibility, which I will try tomorrow, is to ride on the very narrow strip of grass that they left between the construction fence and River Road.  Since it's less than a mile, that may be a viable alternative.  This morning, however, I figured I'd ride out to the lakefront like I used to do before the bike path existed.  I was expecting a nice relaxing ride at 6:30 am heading north before rush hour traffic got started.

Maybe I'm getting soft in my old age, but it was considerably worse than I'd expected.  There was a lot more traffic going a lot faster down Carrollton than I would have liked, and of course I caught every red light. I cut through City Park to Marconi, which was pretty nice, and then hit Lakeshore Drive heading east.  Some of Lakeshore Drive is closed to traffic so that part was nice, but as I got closer to Elysian Fields the cars reappeared and most of them were in a big hurry to get to work.  Then, at Franklin, there were bulldozers working in the street putting the dirt back where it belongs after the last cold front came through, so I had to turn around there.  Likewise, the west end of Lakeshore Drive is full of construction activity where they are putting in sheet piling and, finally, eliminating the mud and grass between the seawall and the street. With all of that, plus numerous stops for red lights and speeding traffic, it was not what you would call a good training ride environment.  The ride home was more of the same, although it was actually nicer along the most busy stretches of Carrollton because by then things were backed up and nobody was going much faster than a bicycle.  At any rate, I lost so much time dealing with traffic signals and cars and intersections that it was hardly worth it.  Once they finish paving Jefferson Davis, that may present a better alternative for getting to and from the lakefront in the mornings.

So anyway, this morning's ride made that 1-mile stretch on River Road look a lot more attractive.  When Ben told me that he was able to ride the grass between the fence and the roadway yesterday I decided I'd give it a try tomorrow.  Under the circumstances, it might be well worth it in order to spend a solid hour riding uninterrupted on the bike path rather than dodging cars on Carrollton Avenue.  We'll see.

Weather or Whether Not

It's been a week of crazy weather all-around, and down here in New Orleans we'd been spared the worst of it.  Last weekend was pretty nice, especially for the first weekend of January.  I went out to the Saturday Giro, which was a typical winter Giro, which is to say that a number of riders were planning on riding all the way out to Slidell so they weren't killing it on the way out.  That kept the pace relatively manageable which meant that I got home with legs that were only slightly sore.  Slightly sore was better than very sore because I'd decided to do the Northshore ride the next day.  After the Giro I rushed over to Mark's house for an NOBC meeting where we talked over some plans for the new year.  This was mostly about club rides, parties, training camp (which for us is kind of a party), etc.  One thing we did decide to do was to make a club effort to put together a Women's team composed of five or six or so riders who were willing to commit to a schedule of "A" races and in return get some club-provided perks.  If a good group comes together this could easily become a separately sponsored team within the club.  There was some talk of moving in that direction with other teams as well. 

After the meeting I stopped at Bud Logan's house and picked up the surviving copy of the video he made of the 1987 (I think) Race Across Louisiana.  I next need to get it converted to DVD, but that may be a little complicated because it was made in an unusual VHS format that incorporated an extra sound track for the music.  I'm checking on someone he has worked with over in Oregon, so we'll see.  If that doesn't work out I can always get it copied locally, although they may not be able to find the second audio track (which I think is mixed into the video track).

So Sunday I headed over to Puccino's to see if anyone was there who needed a ride, but nobody was around.  I did see Mignon's car so I figured there must be at least two people on the way.  I gave her a call just to be sure she wasn't across the street at Cafe' du Monde and expecting to get a ride, but she was already on the road with Sherri. That turned out to be funny because when I was about three-quarters of the way across the lake she called me back because, as she discovered after they got to Mandeville, Sherri thought they were riding with the slower Abita Springs group while Mignon was planning on riding with the Lee Road Jr. High group.  So I picked her up at a gas station because Sherri wasn't comfortable riding with the faster group, which in the end turned out to be not so fast.  The ride itself was great.  The big cold front was still many hours away so it warmed up to the upper 50s or maybe even 60 and I got in about 67 miles on roads that were not dead flat for the first time in a couple of months.  My neck was still sore by the end, but no worse than what is now usual.

By Monday morning the temperature was down to 31 or so and for a little while I debated with myself whether to ride or not.  The wind was in the 15-25 mph range out of the north so it was going to be hard to make it a recovery ride, but considering that this morning was supposed to be in the 20s, which it is, I decided to bundle up and ride anyway.  I think my average speed was in the 14 mph range, but I spent an hour and a half on the bike and other than cold feet had a pretty nice recovery ride.  This morning, however, I decided it would be a good day to skip riding.  It'll be a little better tomorrow.