Road Season Cometh

The weather was finally warming up a bit for the weekend thanks to the promise of clear sunny skies. I rushed out to the Giro Ride on Saturday dressed for temperatures of around 49F but knowing full well it would be above 55 by the time I got home.

Frank and Kenny

As I turned the corner at Canal and Harrison I met right up with about half of the Palmer guys, including Frank Moak and Kenny Bellau, both of whom are rare sightings at the Giro start. It was a little windy, probably 10-12 mph out of the northwest, so speeds heading out to Venetian Isles were slower and more choppy than usual. We were a couple of miles from the turnaround when some of the guys who had been pushing through the wind at the front rather suddenly eased up and started dropping back. The entire group then kind of splintered as if nobody knew what to do without the power guys on the front.  It was almost comical. The ride back offered a few sections of good tailwind, so we had some nice long stretches where we were going 28-30 consistently. I am just starting to feel like I am at least approaching the riding fitness I should have had about a month ago, so I guess that's progress of a sort, although I'm still a long way from being able to spend more than twenty seconds on the front of the group when its going fast.

Saturday afternoon I dragged out the extension ladder, opened an old can of primer, and slathered some of it onto the window frame at the back of the house. Nothing like standing on a ladder for a couple of hours to do a number on tired legs! I'm not really sure when I am going to find time to paint all of that old peeling woodwork, especially considering that we're talking about six 8-pane windows, all in dire need of paint, especially for the glazing which takes forever.

Anyway, on Sunday the Tulane group was planning an outing to Independence for a 60+ mile training ride, so I decided to do that rather than another Giro Ride. I'd ridden some of those roads in various races, century rides, training rides, etc., but wasn't familiar enough with them to really know where the hell we were going most of the time.  Since it was a very mixed group, the pace was kind of all over the place depending on whether you wanted to stay with the front group or chill with the rear group. Dustin had mapped out a route with about a hundred turns, so none of the stretches was more than a few miles long before everyone stopped or eased up to regroup. The weather started out in the mid-50s and ended in the mid-70s. As usual, I dressed for the first hour and then just started unzipping layers the rest of the day, while others started out in basically summer kits and just suffered through the chill for the first 45 minutes or so. To each his own. It was a nice ride on some good roads. Nothing particularly hilly or steep and lots of low rolling terrain with a few kind of long gradual climbs. This was all followed by bar-b-cue for lunch.

After I got home I met up with local rider Bill Brundige who was donating his old SyCip bike to the team. They're starting to acquire a nice little stable of loaner team bikes with four full road bikes available right now, plus one track bike, a few track frames that need to be built up, and a cyclocross frame that needs to be built up. There are also a couple more very bare road frames that could be built up as well.

Anyway, the start of the road season around here will be a criterium up in Monroe next weekend, then the Tulane race that still has a lot of loose ends to tie up, followed Rouge-Roubaix the second week in March. I'll be officiating the Tulane race and also Rouge-Roubaix, and will likely make the trip up to Arkansas for a collegiate race in-between, so I'm definitely getting a little nervous about missing a lot of weekend mileage over the next month.

Disarray

For at least the last month, probably more, my training has been about as unstable as the weather. Every time I think I'm getting back to some semblance of stability a monkey wrench gets thrown into the works and everything grinds to a crawl for a few days. Earlier in the week it was super cold and windy, which made riding fairly uncomfortable. Right now its something like 74F, but tomorrow morning it will be 44. Then you throw into the mix Mardi Gras and stuff and things go from bad to worse. It's frustrating, especially when you've been around the block as many times as I and you tend to start gaining weight about ten minutes after you get off the bike.

Take this week, for example.  On Monday I was off work and the weather was good and I treated myself to the luxury of going out to ride after sunrise and logged 30 miles, which is a lot for a Monday when I would usually be doing a short easy 20-miler. But of course while Tuesday was just Tuesday in most places, it was Fat Tuesday here, so I rode all of 13 miles at a pace too slow to qualify as training and undoubtedly not even enough to burn off the piece of King Cake I had at the Royal Run. The rest of the day involved maybe ten or twelve miles on the commuter and a lot of walking around which resulted in an achy back and hips and feet. Wednesday morning was so cold and windy that I slept in, which brings us to Thursday when I got the only real training ride, however marginal, so far this week. This morning I went out with the Tulane group for the coffee ride and promptly flatted after rolling through a patch of glass on Orleans Avenue.  The streets are pretty much covered with broken glass right now. Not wanting to hold up the ride, I told them to go ahead and I'd meet them on Lakeshore Drive after I'd fixed the flat.  So I roll over to the sidewalk, open my saddle bag, and realize that although I'd re-stocked it with tubes after the training camp flat-fest, I'd apparently forgotten to put any CO2 cartridges in there.  Crap.  So I texted Danielle who was with the group, and cautiously rode the rear flat, leaning heavily on the handlebars, another mile or so to Harrison Avenue where I knew they'd see me on the way back.

Anyway, although the coffee ride is always an easy Zone 2 type of affair, I didn't even get those 25 miles, settling instead for a mere 12. In the last two weeks I've missed four days of riding, which is a lot for me, and the riding I've done has been shorter and less intense than normal as well. The net result is that I feel like a sack of cement. Of course, I can try and make up for some of it this weekend by maybe riding a little harder or a little longer, but it doesn't really work that way. The training disarray of the past couple of weeks translates into a lower level of training capability which basically means that if I try to jump right back into the deep end with two back-to-back days of heavy training I'll probably end up doing more harm than good, requiring more recovery time afterward, thus repeating the cycle of inconsistency.

Back to the Routine

Mardi Gras week was pretty nice this year. For a change we had good weather.  Granted, it was a little chilly and a lot windy, but compared to a freezing cold cloudy windy day it was spectacular.

Thoth

Saturday afternoon around 3 pm we headed downtown to the Tulane Tidewater building. The Endymion parade didn't start until something like 4:30, and wouldn't arrive downtown until after dark, but the parking garage wouldn't be accessible once the streets were closed, and traffic would only get worse. Fortunately there was wine and those little mini-muffelettas, and king cake and chips and fried chicken and finger sandwiches and perhaps one or two other things I didn't actually eat while we were waiting. The nice thing about waiting for the parade from a 10th floor office overlooking Canal Street is that you can just glance out the window every now and then, and wait until you see the flashing lights and people on horses before going outside. The parade went pretty much as usual until just a couple of floats before the end. Then everything came to a halt for some reason. By then the crowd was already thinning out and the temperature was dropping, so after waiting for fifteen minutes or so we went back upstairs. Naturally the parade started moving right about that time, so Danielle ran back down to catch the last of it. Now the downside of watching the parade from the Tidewater building and parking in the garage is that you really can't leave until at least half an hour after everything is over and the some of the streets are opened up again. We timed it pretty well this year and didn't get stuck in much traffic at all, which meant we got home around 11 pm or so.

Sunday morning I went out to do another Giro Ride. The wind wasn't quite as bad as it had been the day before and the pace was particularly smooth and steady. I'd swapped out the worn cassette for the one from my race wheel, so the bike felt smooth as silk.  There's nothing like a fresh drivetrain to make an old bike feel like new. Later that day I went out again on the commuter to catch three parades on Magazine Street. The first two were fairly short. The third was Thoth, which is now up to thirty-something floats. The sun was in our faces all day and the temperature was well up into the upper 50s or even lower 60s, so I think I actually got a little sunburned. Anyway, by the time I got home from that I was ready for a break and didn't even consider going out again that evening for the Bacchus parade.

Rex King and Queen, 7am, Audubon Park

Monday morning, since I was off work Monday and Tuesday for Mardi Gras, I waited until the sun was up before heading out for a solo ride on the levee. I rode out to where the construction area starts and then as I was heading back I saw Taco on his way out.  A little while later I saw one of the police cars heading the same direction. Since the river has been high lately they had removed the fence and barricade where the construction area starts, so there are just a few signs there. It was so that they could do regular levee inspections during the high water. Since that part of the construction area has had the asphalt bike path back in place for months, lots of people just keep riding. I wondered if Taco would make it to Williams Blvd. before the police car. I turned back to do another lap of that section and soon saw Taco coming my way. The police had made him turn around. So we had a nice ride back up uptown and did a lap or two around Audubon Park before I headed back home.

Mardi Gras morning started out pretty cold, but I went out anyway to welcome the king and queen of Rex at the start of the annual Royal Run. As usual, it was difficult to get any good photos, but I did manage a couple. The king this year is a tennis player and was a lot more animated than some of the others have been, so it was kind of fun seeing him having such a good time that early in the morning. After the race started I went off to the levee and put in a few miles before heading home to get ready for the usual Mardi Gras pilgrimage to the French Quarter.

We left on the bikes at just the right time to make it across Napoleon Avenue just barely ahead of the Rex parade, riding down to around the Columns Hotel to meet Ginger and some of her friends. After Rex we unlocked the bikes (three U-locks, three cable locks) only to find that Candy's front tire was flat. I changed it and we started heading downtown only to have it go flat just a few blocks later. I put the slow-leak tube back in and pumped it up but she decided to head back home anyway.  As it turned out she didn't get too far and ended up walking most of the way. Meanwhile Danielle and I worked out way downtown after getting across St. Charles during a lull in the parade. Taking Prytania to Camp and then Poydras to Convention Center Blvd. and little-known Badine St. East, we worked our way through the parking lots, eventually locking up on the fence alongside the Jax Brewery.

We made a couple of circuits of Royal and Bourbon streets, taking photos and generally enjoying the atmosphere. There were a lot of people in costumes this year, and it was hard to decide what to photograph. It was kind of photo-op overload. The streets were kind of half in shade and half in bright sunlight, which made it a little tricky to take any really good photos, but I guess I had taken at least 200 by the end of the day because even after narrowing them down and deleting the bad ones and some duplicate ones I still had over 150. They're posted on Picasa. By 3:30 or 4:00 we were pretty much done and headed back via the Lafitte Greenway and Jeff. Davis.

So I woke up Wednesday morning feeling pretty stiff, All of the walking and standing and riding had really taken a toll on my back and hips. I didn't even get out of bed before deciding to skip the early morning WeMoRi. It was still windy and the temperature was in the upper 30s so I didn't really feel too bad about it. Tomorrow I'll try and get back into the training routine. How much longer until Spring?

The Days before Mardi Gras

Mardi Gras Commeth...

The American men of American Men Roofing arrived promptly at 7 am on Friday to tear off the 40+ year-old built-up asphalt roof over the back room. Considering the fact that doing so was the roofing equivalent to opening Pandora's Box, I skipped my Friday ride so I could be around to see of any of them fell through into the kitchen. Amazingly, the old 2x4s serving as rafters held together despite the to very large Americans ripping through the multiple strata of tar and gravel up there. They went about their work with the disinterested efficiency of characteristic of guys who have been there and done that many times before. By 2 pm nobody had fallen through the ceiling, they'd flamed down the new roof, cleaned up the yard, collected the money, and rushed off to someone's daughter's school soccer game.  I briefly considered going out for a ride, but I'd been cold all morning sitting at my computer "working from home" and in spite of the sunny sky, the temperature was still in the low 50s.  Somehow I just couldn't get my ass out the door. As I'd discover the next morning, I should have.

Things are ramping up around here in anticipation of Mardi Gras.  There are parades every night, and most of the day this weekend. Rented mobile homes are parked out front of the frat houses on Broadway and the crowd at The Boot is overflowing into the street. People have been camped out on the neutral ground along tonight's Endymion parade route since yesterday. We'll be heading downtown to Tulane's Tidewater building in a couple of hours where we'll be trapped until the parade, which starts at 4:15.  The last float probably won't pass us down on Canal Street until late tonight.

So this morning the thermometer was reading 41F, although I think it was more like 39 in some spots, when I headed out to meet the Giro at Starbucks. It was full tights and winter jacket weather by my standards. It was also a New Chain ride, since I'd replaced the chain and chainrings Thursday evening before rushing off to catch the Muses parade down on St. Charles Avenue. When I stood up to cross S. Claiborne Ave. I got the not unexpected bad news. At least three of my most-used cassette cogs were toast and the nice new shiny Campagnolo Record chain was skipping over the teeth pretty badly. My bad.  I had set up a warning on Strava or Garmin Connect to tell me when the old chain reached 3,000 miles but had put off getting a new one for another 1,500 or so. Basically, I had a choice of the 17 or 12 cogs.  For some reason, which I would discover later, the bike wouldn't shift to the 11.

So the ride started out fairly calmly.  There were a few people missing, of course, thanks to the prior night's parades or today's plans or just the cold weather.  In fact, I was halfway through my Americano by the time anybody else showed up at Starbucks.  With my limited gear selection as a plausible excuse, I was quite content today to hang around the back of the paceline, occasionally letting bigger guys move ahead of me when they pleaded for the better draft. We had an increasing wind at our faces most of the way out to the turnaround, which kept the speeds on the low side and made it easy to sit in. This morning's visiting rider was Eric who was on a TT bike but seemed quite capable and fit in nicely, mostly near the front. Yeah, I should have taken some photos, but it was cold and it's a pain with my gloves on.

Once we started back I was expecting a super-fast drag race down Chef Highway, but for some reason that didn't really happen until we were a couple of miles from the Goodyear sprint sign.  I just plopped it into the 12 and slow-pedaled in the ample draft of the group, which started to disintegrate once we'd been going 30+ mph for a couple of minutes.

It was a nice, albeit uneventful, Giro Ride and  riding along Lakeshore Drive I was already thinking about that legit French almond King Cake from Maple Street Patisserie waiting for me at home when my dreams were suddenly interrupted by a god-awful sound coming from Jim's bike, just to my right. The rest of the group continued on as Jim ground to a stop, so I turned back to see what the problem was, thinking he'd pinch-flatted on the potholes near Franklin Avenue and bottomed-out his carbon wheel.  As it turned out, that wasn't the problem at all.  Instead, he'd put a rusty old 10-penny nail right through his tire and Mr. Tuffy. I extracted it with my gloved hand, with some effort, and luckily the hole wasn't so big as to require a boot.

On the way home the police were already diverting traffic, including me, on Marconi where the Endymion floats line up, even though none were there yet. so I had to detour over to Canal. It wasn't a problem, but really, why not let the bicycles ride through? Along Canal the neutral ground was already lined with people who had been camping out there to claim their spots since at least yesterday, many with neatly delineated "property lines" marked with survey tape on the ground. Tomorrow I'll do another Giro Ride and maybe make it over to Magazine Street for Thoth.  We'll see.  It's looking like it will be a dry but cold Mardi Gras this year. Better than the cold and wet one we had last time.

Long Parades and Strong North Winds

The Bianchi is still kind of in pieces right now since I haven't found the time to pull the cranks off to check the bottom bracket and reassemble everything with the new chain and chainrings. The derailleur jockey wheels were a real mess, and since I was out of mineral spirits that I use for cleaning that sort of thing, I had decided to wait until I could pick some up. After work yesterday I took care of that and also stopped by the bike shop to get a CO2 inflater since I apparently lost mine somewhere between my last flat in Natchez and Monday night. A little while later I was back on the commuter bike to ride out to the Columns on St. Charles Avenue with Danielle to watch the Druids and Nyx parades. I had heard that Mignon was in Druids with the Amelia EarHawts Cabin Krewe, and one of Danielle's professors was in Nyx.

It was comfortable riding out there around 7 pm, but I'd worn my winter riding jacket because I knew it would be getting colder as the night wore on, and indeed it did wear on. Druids went pretty smoothly, getting to where we were in front of the Columns Hotel around 7:30 I guess. The crowds were just the right size last night - not too many people, so easy to move around.  Amazingly, all of the ladders were neatly lined up about six feet from the curb, which is probably the first time I've seen that.  That allowed enough room for people to stand in front of them without getting squashed up against the ladders every time a big band came through. We found Mignon easily when the EarHawts marched or danced or strutted by.

I was trying out a new used camera I'd gotten just hours earlier via ebay.  It is the identical model to the Nikon AW110 I've been using.  My old one's memory card slot broke a while back so it usually couldn't read, or even find, the card, dramatically limiting the number of photos I could take since the internal memory is relatively small.  Otherwise I really like the camera because it's waterproof and presumably shockproof, which it just the thing for a camera that spends most of its time in jersey pockets. Unfortunately I hadn't had a chance to adjust all of the settings the way I like, and apparently the lens was a little dirty, so some of the photos didn't turn out as nicely as I'd have liked. On the plus side, at least I didn't have to learn how to operate it or set it up.

The Nyx parade followed immediately behind Druids, but there was a long delay at one point when one of the big double floats miscalculated the turn onto St. Charles and apparently had to back up and try again. To make matters worse, Nyx now has, I think, forty floats, which is really a bit much for a weekday night parade. This krewe tried to be very inclusive and indeed seems to have both of the locally predominant skin colors equally represented, but the floats and costumes are generally uninspiring. It's basically like a shortened truck parade all dressed up like a regular parade. Anyway, it was fun, but by the time they were up to float #30 I was starting to look at my watch and then down the street to see how many more floats there were. We nonetheless stayed to the end, which was around 11 pm, I think, before riding back home.

Low Mileage

After last week's pretty good riding opportunities, this week is already looking really bad. When I woke up on Monday and looked out the window I could barely see the other side of the street because of the dense fog. Still groggy from sleep I made the unwise decision to skip riding. If I'd thought about it for a bit I would have realized I was going to need all the saddle time I could muster this week. An early meeting on Tuesday would require me to cut that ride short, and then rain was predicted for Wednesday morning. To make matters worse, this is the week leading up to Mardi Gras, so there could be some evening excursions to parades that sometimes have undesirable repercussions the next morning.

Around 3 or 4 am this morning I could hear thunder and rain.  The forecast for 6 am had something like a 90% chance of rain with strong winds, so I wasn't surprised. The night before I'd switched the old Pennine out of Cyclocross mode back into Rain Bike mode, changing out the antique long-cage derailleur for an equally antique short-cage one, installing the classic old steel fenders, swapping out the 'cross wheels (well, "wheel" since I destroyed one at the last race), and adjusting the brake shoes to account for the old-style 27" rims. If it wasn't actually raining in the morning I'd be all set to at least get in a few miles.  Well, it was actually raining in the morning so I bailed. A couple of hours later the front had moved through and now it's windy but with almost clear skies and a temperature in the 60s .... and of course I'm at work in front of a computer. I did think to throw the Garmin and some shorts in my bag on the off chance that I actually get up the motivation, and find the time, to get on one of the WattBikes at some point today. Hope springs eternal.

With over 34,000 miles plus whatever Matt put on it before
I bought it from him, I guess the big ring isn't looking all
 that bad, but it's still definitely time for replacement.

So since I didn't ride this morning I went downstairs and got a small start on some work I need to do on the Bianchi. On the top of that list is installing a new chain and new chainrings. The old chain is showing about 4,600 miles on it right now, so I guess there's a good chance I'll be in for a new cassette by the time I'm done. At least I got the really messy stuff done - removing the chain and pulling off the chainrings and derailleur jockey wheels, which by the way were pretty cruddy after all the riding I've been doing on wet streets lately. I'm going to pull the crankset off and at least have a peek at the bottom bracket bearings to make sure they aren't dried out or rusting, but it spins OK at the moment so I don't think there's any significant damage there. I've been hearing a little clunk once per crank revolution for the last week or so, so I'll probably clean things up and get a little green LocTite between the shell and the bearings and otherwise grease anything else that might need it. If I get really energetic I may take a look at the headset bearings as well.  Next will be replacing cables, but that is going to involve also cleaning up the right shifter that has not been engaging the thumb shifter very well for months. I'll probably be on the Orbea for a couple of days if I don't want to pull an all-nighter, which I probably won't be able to do anyway because inevitably I'll be missing something I need to finish the job and will have to make a trip to the shop.

TUCA Camp Weekend

As always happens before a road trip, all sorts of complications at work and home started popping up by Thursday, and even by Friday morning I didn't know for sure when I'd be able to leave town. The roofer called in the morning and scheduled a 3 pm meeting to look at the leaking roof, so once that was locked in, I was pretty much committed to leave work by 2:30. By "leave work" I mean literally leaving a lot of work undone. Ergo, this week is going to be rough. Anyway, the roof is going to be upwards of $2,300.

It wasn't until around 4 pm that we started fighting our way out of New Orleans, but once we got past the city and onto I-55 things smoothed out, so we made it up to the cabins at Natchez State Park right in time for dinner, which had just been put together by the riders who'd gone up earlier in the day. This year it was a combined Tulane and LSU camp, so we had I think 14 or 15 riders on hand. Jamie had come in from Jackson, to which she recently relocated, to join us, which was nice since I got to have my own bed in a different cabin, which would prove to be invaluable Saturday night. The most amazing thing about the whole weekend, however, was the weather. Temperatures ranged from the upper 50s to mid-70s, with a clear sky on Saturday and partly cloudy sky on Sunday. Other than the 15 mph south wind, it was nearly perfect for riding.

So Saturday's ride actually worked out pretty nicely. Naturally, I went out over-dressed since it was still January and how can you not be wearing at least knee-warmers in January. I ended up with a lot of stuff crammed into my pockets.

It's always a challenge when there is such a wide range of abilities. We had a 60+ mile route mapped out, which included a mile or so of gravel, divided into basically two loops that met in the middle.  About halfway through the first loop we turned onto Church Road, which was that nasty chip-seal.  The group split right away, with plans to re-group at the end of the road. I guess the front of the group got there well over five minutes ahead of the end of the group, so we decided to route some riders a slightly shorter way to Natchez, while the others took the turn-off onto the gravel road and added a few miles.  Amazingly it worked out perfectly with the two groups meeting up at the entrance to the Natchez Trace within a few minutes of each other. A subsequent attempt to practice paceline riding was like trying to teach cats to team time trial, but anyway we arrived back at the cabins more or less together. Later that afternoon we went out on the grass and practiced some of the usual bike-handling skills and sprinting.

Saturday evening started out with dinner (more pasta of course), and then they started playing one of those group card games. That went on late into the night, although after a couple of glasses of wine I headed back to the quiet cabin.  I'd had a flat tire on the Saturday ride, and when I got back to the cabin I found it was nearly flat again, so I swapped out the tube with the other one I'd brought, checking the inside of the tire, but finding nothing. Well, that was the start of a lot of tire changing.

Sunday morning I didn't get very far before the tire went flat again.  I again ran my finger inside of the tire, pulled out a couple of very small bits of rock or glass that didn't seem significant, and put the slow-leak tube I'd taken out the night before in there. We rode into Natchez for coffee, after which one group headed straight back to the cabins while the other group took off on a longer loop to the southeast. Well, of course the tire went soft yet again. I nursed it along for a few more miles but finally had to stop and borrow a tube from Quentin.  The pace on this loop had been relatively brisk since it was just the faster riders, and so I was spending a fair amount of time hanging out at the back of the paceline thanks to the combination of low tire pressure and low leg power. It was fine, though. Eventually we turned onto State Park Road, which was full of rough pavement, holes, and fresh road repairs that consisted of asphalt with loose crushed rocks on top. As we turned into the park, about three miles from the cabin, I felt the tire going soft again. I thought I'd be able to make it all the way back, but after everyone passed me it just went completely flat and after squirming down a couple of downhills I called Danielle to come pick me up. Somewhere along the way I lost my CO2 inflater.

Unwilling Participant

I had started the week with the best of intentions. After my usual Monday ride on the river levee, I went out Tuesday morning to meet the group wearing almost summer clothes. The temperature was in the low 60s, and as often happens on a warm day in January, the ride along the lakefront was quite fast from start to end.  Out along the lake it remained pretty brisk with a light cross/tailwind that kept the speed in the 25 mph range. Like most, I was feeling pretty good and was even a little disappointed that the return trip from Kenner was relatively conversational.

That evening a front came through and it started raining heavily before I left work. I eventually left the bike there and got a ride home, only to find that the roof over the back room was leaking. We put a couple of ice chests under the leak since there was really nothing else to do. It's a section of flat roof that was once part of a back porch, with that old hot asphalt and gravel roofing.  I guess it's been there at least forty years through numerous hurricanes, and is the only part of the roof that wasn't replaced after Hurricane Katrina ten years ago. So although it had certainly stood the test of time, the timing was really bad. Property taxes are due and funds are depleted from the DisneyWorld trip. It always seems to work that way, though. Spend a bunch of money on one thing and it's almost a guarantee that some unexpected expense will pop up to make you regret it. We climbed up there yesterday evening to have a quick look to see if it was anything obvious, which of course it wasn't, so I'll have to track down a roofer today. At least there's no serious rain expected for a few days. That roof is so old and crudely put together, since it was just a porch roof, there's no telling what other problems will be uncovered.

So anyway, the forecast for Wednesday morning had been very bleak when I went to sleep the night before.  Like 90% chance of rain in the morning bleak. At some point in the early morning hours I woke up enough to realize that I didn't hear any rain.  Then, when the alarm went off I looked out the window to find the streets only a little bit wet, as if it  had stopped raining hours earlier.  The radar looked fine. The rain had moved through and was mostly south and southeast of the city, so I headed out to meet the WeMoRi. Of course it was colder - somewhere in the mid-40s - but that wasn't the real problem.  The real problem was the north wind.  I went out anyway, spinning a lower gear and riding more slowly than usual and figuring to meet the WeMoRi around Marconi and R.E. Lee rather than on Lakeshore Drive.  As I rode past Harrison on Marconi I saw two riders about to make the turn and realized they were riders who should have been in the WeMoRi group.  At first I thought maybe they had decided to avoid Lakeshore Drive because of the wind, but when they caught up to me I learned that they'd been the only ones who had shown up at all and had decided to just do a couple of laps around City Park. So, no WeMoRi but nice conversation to keep my mind off of the weather.  I ended up with 21 fairly easy miles, so really no "training." There would always be Thursday, though.

Well, I woke up Thursday morning, looked at the temperature still in the mid-40s, and felt a really strong urge to skip riding altogether. That happens every now and then in the winter.  It's like the cumulative effect of numerous cold and windy rides eventually tips the scales and my willingness to get out there dissipates. I got dressed anyway. When I stepped out the door and felt the wind I knew immediately I should have put something warmer than the single long-sleeve jersey over my arms. I briefly considered if that was an acceptable excuse to go back in side and get back in bed, but time was short and I went ahead and rode out to meet the group. From the start I was chilled and uncomfortable and just generally an unwilling participant in the morning ride.  Out on the lakefront the usual group came together and the pace ramped up to a reasonable level, but the crosswind was playing havoc on the paceline. As we came around the loop at the Armory I heard Daniel say, "OK now, everyone stay left so there won't be any draft."  The wind was coming off the lake from the right, and it would have been typical for the front of the group to not move all the way to the right to accommodate what was going to have to be a 15-rider eschelon. So a number of riders were in the left lane, off and on, scrapping for a little shelter as we headed back to the west. I was feeling particularly lousy and uncomfortable and was already considering cutting my ride short. Somewhere around Franklin Avenue a car when screaming past us way over in the oncoming traffic lane, hitting the gas to speed up when he saw an car coming at him from around the curve.  A moment later a pickup truck passed the group without leaving the left lane, basically trying to see how close he could come to us.  You know, that "I'm going to teach those guys a lesson with my big ol' manly pickup truck" thing.  Well, that pissed a lot of people off, and when they spotted the truck pulling in to park at one of the construction areas a bunch of guys decided to confront him.  I have a general rule of not getting confrontational with anyone bigger than myself while riding my bike, which basically includes almost everyone, so I rode on with a few others to avoid what I knew would be about a pointless an exercise as trying to talk reason to a sack of rocks. Even with the slower pace I was still feeling lousy, so at the end of Lakeshore Drive I decided to call it a day and rode back home with Scott and David.

Sixty Long Ones

Saturday's Giro turnout was pretty thin.

Saturday morning was, I guess, the coldest we'd had this winter. It was around 38F when I headed out -- not exactly arctic conditions temperature-wise.  The kicker, though, was the wind, which was still blowing in the 20-25 mph range from the north-northwest.  I figured the combination of cold and wind would keep a lot of the usual Giro riders in bed, at least until later in the day.  I was right.  I got to Starbucks around 6:30 as usual. There were no other bikes around. I got my coffee and sad down inside.  Fifteen minutes later I was still the only rider in sight and I started wondering if I would actually be the only rider to show up. Eventually, though, a few others arrived. Very few.  We headed out with seven riders, and it was still up in the air as to whether we'd be doing the full Giro route. After turning off of Hayne Blvd. Matt and the two Brians turned off to head back, leaving Taco, Adrian, Stephanie and me.  Taco went to the front, set his cruise control to something like 22.5 mph and stayed there.  Somewhere along Chef Highway I was sitting behind Adrian, who was on Taco's wheel. There was a patch of gravel and dirt in the right lane, so Taco eased over to the left. I was escheloned against the crosswind to Adrian's right and was surprised that he didn't follow Taco, but instead rode straight through the messy patch, slowing down as he did.  Stephanie went left and rode up to Taco's wheel. I was surprised when Adrian didn't speed up to get back up to Taco.  Then he suddenly stopped pedaling and swung right across the rumble strip and stopped, leaving me out in the wind and by then hopelessly far from Taco and Stephanie.  Apparently he was having some kind of wardrobe malfunction.  Anyway, I ended up riding solo the rest of the way out to the turnaround.  The ride back was, essentially, non-stop motorpacing behind Taco. He wasn't really killing it or anything, but for some reason I'd been feeling lousy since the start, so it was a very long ride for me. I guess maybe I was a little bonky by the time I got home, so I probably should have had something to eat. Anyway, despite sucking wheels for most of the 60 mile ride, I was pretty trashed.

So Saturday night was going to be even colder than Friday's had been. I was determined to do another Giro Ride anyway, even if I had to do it alone. Some time well after dinner I got a message from Woody suggesting a late 9 am start for the Giro.  I jumped on that immediately and sent messages about it out to both the NOBC email list and the NOBC Facebook group. It has always been a mystery to me why the Giro continues to start at 7 am all winter rather than pushing it back an hour like most places do.  Anyway, we had a pretty good group out there for the 9 am start. It was still a bit under 40 degrees, but the wind had died way down and the sun was out, so it was looking a lot better than Saturday.  There was just a handful of riders wanting to go hard today, and they pretty much rode off the front on Hayne Blvd. Behind, the group never really got a full paceline going.  There were maybe four or five willing to pull, but everyone else seemed content to sit in.  After the turnaround Taco and I rolled down the road a bit while the rest of the group stopped at the little tree to do whatever they do there. After a mile or two we looked back and could see a few people riding across to us from the pack, so when they caught we latched on. It was a nice smooth, fast group of five or six.  I took a few brief pulls when the speed wasn't too high, but wasn't bashful about sitting at the back when it got faster. As a result I had a really nice ride.  That morning I'd checked my tires and found that I'd ridden Saturday's ride with something like 50 psi. Maybe that had something to do with how lousy I'd felt. Anyway, in contrast to the day before, I felt great today. Go figure.

Wet Mornings

The weather around here has been all over the place lately. It rained much of Tuesday night, but when I got up Wednesday morning and saw the temperature in the upper 50s I got dressed, grabbed the bike, and stepped out the door, only to find that there was still a fine misty rain falling.  The streets were soaked, which was bad enough, but the combination of the cool temperature and wet streets was going to make the WeMoRi ride miserable, assuming anyone showed up at all. I stared out into the dark for a while watching the rain fall through the beam of my headlight and turned around. Before leaving for work I threw some riding clothes into my bag just in case I got desperate enough to ride the WattBike. After work I walked over to the Tulane cycling center, which is literally about 25 steps away from my office.  I'd seen Quentin there earlier. He's the rider who crashed last weekend when his pedal came out of the crankarm.  His face was looking a lot better and he was busy busting out a training session on the WattBike. After work there were a few people already there when I arrived. I put a pair of Keo pedals onto one of the bikes that didn't have pedals on it (these things move around from bike to bike constantly since we've got riders using everything from mountain bike cleats to Speedplay Zeros). I aimed a fan at my face and suffered through an hour or so. I have never gotten used to working out indoors. Even at my relatively easy effort level, I was dripping sweat within fifteen minutes, the saddle position didn't feel quite right, the pedals are too far apart, and the handlebar is too far out. The best I could do was a few minutes over an hour, and by then I was more than happy to head home since all I'd had at lunchtime were a couple of plain bagels.

This morning I got all excited when I saw the temperature in the low 60s.  I mean, it's December, right?  Then I walked past a window and saw the fog.  Although it hadn't rained for hours, the street was wet and the fog was thick. I put on arm and knee warmers along with an extra jersey as baselayer, since I knew I'd end up good and wet. I rode over to Nashville, but none of the usual group showed up, so I just continued on out to the lakefront. I had to wipe the fog from my glasses every few minutes, finally taking them off and stashing them in my pocket before I even made it to the lakefront.

Out on Lakeshore Drive there were a few people riding around looking for the group that didn't exist. Eventually everyone realized it and six or seven riders came together.  We did a good lap of Lakeshore Drive, but at the end a few, including myself, decided that the bike path along the lake would probably be soaking wet with runoff from the levee, so we did a short lap around City Park and called it a day. By then I was pretty wet just from the fog, and my feet were starting to get cold, so I'm glad I didn't venture out to the bike path where I probably would have had wheel spray in my face most of the time.

So I got a call yesterday morning from Frank Moak telling me that they were not going to be able to put on the Mississippi Grand Prix stage race this year. That puts a pretty big hole in the calendar for us. One of the other races has already moved to that weekend, since it was a prime date in April (that unfortunately conflicts with a collegiate race in Texas). The MSGP has been going on for 13 years and was basically a continuation of the Natchez Classic stage race that had been going on in nearby Natchez for many years before that.

Tonight we're expecting a tornado watch and heavy thunderstorms starting around 7 or 8 pm as a cold front comes through.  No telling yet if it will be as bad as they think - these things often swing just north of us. The rain should be over by 2 am, so it's likely the streets will dry out by morning, especially since the wind at 7 am is predicted to be blowing at 24 mph from the WNW and the temperature will be back down in to the mid-40s.  Should be interesting.

The 411 on the 911s

Despite the cold temperatures this weekend, there were a lot of people out on their bikes. I went out to the Saturday Giro Ride knowing I wouldn't be able to do the whole thing. We were having our annual LAMBRA business meeting immediately afterward, and I needed to get there a little early, pick up some refreshments, and run off some copies.

The Giro headed out into a mostly east wind, which kept the speed down a bit. I was feeling pretty good - even better after I turned around and had a nice little tailwind riding solo back home. When I got home I found that the wife had taken the car to the grocery store, which kind of threw a monkey wrench into my plans. I ended up taking Danielle's scooter to the meeting and having her drive over a bit later with some drinks and the LCCS team trophy.  The meeting went pretty well.  We decided to keep the organizational and voting structure the same for now, so no changes to the bylaws. We'll be doing some kind of grant program for event promoters in 2016, for which I need to write up some criteria and figure out how much we can afford. We'll also be buying some serious radios.  I need to go back and find the information on those. We had investigated that early last year but never acted on it.

TU Cycling team members and med students
checking out Quentin's x-ray

So anyway, since I turned around early on the Giro Ride, I missed the crash.  Apparently Quentin's pedal came out of the crankarm in the middle of the Venetian Isles sprint. He landed on his head and face, breaking his nose and also a finger, and probably suffering a mild concussion.  I guess the pedal had been working its way out for a while and when he stood up to sprint it ripped through the last few threads. Quentin's on the Tulane team. On the plus side, there were at least two Tulane medical students also on the ride who got a little extra trauma experience.

Sunday there was an NOBC group ride on the northshore. I opted to do that one instead of the Tulane ride up in Independence.  It was damned cold when we started at 8 am, and the hour and a half into the north wind didn't help, either. I was quite surprised to count nearly 30 riders as we started out. When I dropped back after taking a brief pull I thought to myself, "This mix of riders in a headwind could get a little sketchy."  Well, shortly after turning off of Tung Road onto Lee Road there was a surge at the front and some gaps started to open.  I was sitting on Mike Lew's wheel as he started closing the gap.  Just as we got really close, toward the bottom of a little downhill, we suddenly saw riders going down up at the front. I guess some wheels got overlapped as they bunched up on the downhill.

Heading north toward Enon at the top of the Firetower hill

Anyway, two guys went down pretty hard, one of them especially so. He had what looked like a pretty deep gash on his forehead and someone immediately called 911.  We were pretty much out in the middle of nowhere.  A few of us rode back to the top of the hill to alert any cars, since everyone was still in the middle of the road.  Within a few minutes a fire truck arrived, followed immediately by three Sheriff's cars, and then the ambulance.  So that was the second 911 call of the weekend. A few people headed back to get a car to come back and pick up the bike while a couple others stayed on the site until they arrived.  That brought the group down to about 15 riders. In general the pace was controlled, although someone attacked one of those longish climbs on the backside of the course which split the group for a little while.  I saw them go and thought to myself, "It's way too early for me to be doing that kind of stuff." Anyway with the long delay because of the crash, a couple of nature stops and a few regrouping stops, the 65 mile ride took an exceptionally long time. After the ride a bunch of us went to Chimes for lunch, but it was so crowed that we would have had to wait half an hour or so (and we were hungry) so we went to that Greek place instead. It was probably after 3 pm before I got home.

I've still got some lung congestion, and Sunday's long ride in the cold doesn't seem to have helped at all.  In fact, since I got back from that ride I've felt more lung congestion than I had earlier, so I'm hoping I didn't do any real damage.  We're doing a hopefully easy Tulane ride today at 10 am since it's MLK day and the university is closed. The sun is out, but it's still in the 40s.  Looks like it might get up to 52 by noon, so I guess that's not too bad, although wardrobe selection under these conditions is going to be a little tricky.

The Morning Flat

I pulled the bike down from its hook and it landed on the basement floor with a sound I know all too well.  The rear tire was flat as a pancake. I hate when that happens in the morning.  With no time to change tubes I swapped it out for a race wheel and Danielle and I headed out on the wet streets to meet the Tulane group for an easy coffee ride. A little front had moved through overnight, and judging by all the puddles in the road, the rain must have ended only a couple of hours earlier. On the plus side, the temperature was in the mid-50s.

We were heading north on Marconi under an overcast but brightening sky when I felt my front tire go flat. It was completely flat within a minute, but I nursed it the last could hundred yards to the corner at Robert E. Lee so I could stop and change it on the sidewalk. I sent the rest of the group ahead since it would easy to meet them on their way back down Lakeshore Drive. A quick swipe of the tire with my gloved hand immediately found the offending piece of sharp glass, so a few minutes later I was back on the road.

Coming back into town from the lake on Marconi, the traffic was pretty bad. Marconi is picking up all of the commuter traffic that used to take Wisner, and the corner where it meets the Harrison Avenue traffic is now getting awful. Just as we were approaching it and contemplating whether to try for the difficult left turn or stay in the right lane amidst the impatient rush hour drivers, Katie flatted. Nothing like freshly wet streets to guarantee a couple of flats!

We ended waiting out two light cycles to make the left onto Harrison and then cut through the park to Esplanade and, finally, Fair Grinds and a cup of coffee.

This afternoon the sun is out and I guess the temperature is near 70, but it's supposed to be back down to 50 by tomorrow morning, and then in the 40s for the weekend mornings. There's an NOBC northshore ride on Sunday that I'll probably do, although the Tulane crew is doing a ride that day up around Independence. Things are finally moving on the Tulane Cycling Classic race preparations, so that's good.  On Saturday I have the annual LAMBRA meeting. I hope people show up for it. Things have kind of been on autopilot for the last year or so and it's time for maybe some new enthusiastic officers.  We have to decide whether to make some changes in the bylaws to have an elected Board or stick with the status quo where the Board is composed of one representative from each member club.  It's not really a problem as it is, but I can see some possible issues down the road.

Easing Back In

Off the back, riding easy

It was around 40F Tuesday morning as I stepped out the door into the darkness. Thankfully, the wind was calm. Unfortunately my tail light wouldn't come on, but I was already running late so I took off to meet a few others at the end of Nashville for the ride out to the lakefront. I was wearing everything from shoe-covers to winter jacket, since I fully expected to be spending some time alone. I'm trying to ease back into training, and the cold weather and this lingering cough are definitely slowing the process.

Out at the lakefront I turned around a little early at West End, and was able to spin easily most of the way to Bayou St. John until the rest of the group caught up to me. There, we picked up some more riders and the pace started to rise, but it was clear that most of the group wasn't interested in going too hard that day.  Later, about halfway out along the bike path to the Kenner casino boat, I dropped off the back to give myself a few extra easy miles, turning around early, and then picking up the group again on the way back. I got back home a little cold but none the worse for wear, so - mission accomplished.

After breakfast and a shower I headed over to the local Volvo dealer to see about getting a replacement key for the car. They need you to show up in person with ID and registration in order to get a new key. Since it was going to take an hour and a half to get the car in there to program the new key, I walked down to The Bicycle Connection and hung out with Donald and VJ for a while. When I got back the told me that there was some kind of problem with the car and they couldn't get it to go into program mode, so they gave me a loaner and I went off to work.  Later that day they had it fixed.  The problem had been with their computer, not with the car.  The cost for a new key?  $360 without the metal "valet" key.  That hurt.

This morning I went out to meet the WeMoRi. The new route, necessitated by the closure of the Wisner Overpass, starts out with the same lap on Lakeshore Drive and continues to Robt. E. Lee and Wisner as before, but turns at Harrison to cut through the park to Marconi.  Then it's back to Lakeshore Drive for another full lap with a sprint at the end near Brisbi's.  The pace wasn't too fast, so I was pretty comfortable sitting near the back of the group, coughing occasionally and wiping my nose constantly, but otherwise OK.  It was just as cold as Tuesday had been, and I'd gone out without shoe covers, so my toes were pretty frosty by the time I got home, but not too bad. I guess a few more days to ease back into things and perhaps I'll be back to normal by the weekend.

Back in the Pack

Still not feeling quite back to normal, it was nonetheless time to get back on the bike. There's something to be said for taking some time off when you're obviously sick, but after nearly two weeks of mostly sitting on my ass I was feeling fat and soft and generally anxious, and I'd at least improved enough that it seemed a few miles on the bike probably wouldn't make things worse. After a cold front started coming through Saturday morning, along with a few hours of rain, the sky started to clear and by afternoon it was looking pretty nice.  The temperature hadn't started dropping yet, so around 3 pm I went out for an easy spin on the levee. The wind was already picking up, but it was still warm enough for the summer kit.  The river is pretty high, just about up to the base of the levee on the river side and well above the base on the other side. I rode out to the barricade near Moss Lane, and shortly after starting back ran into Kenny, so I turned around and rode with him for a little while.  He was kind of scouting out the route to the Spillway for a ride he'd organized on Sunday to watch them open the Spillway up. I was tentatively planning on doing a northshore ride with some Tulane and LSU riders to check out a possible course for the upcoming Tulane collegiate race.  This was good since watching them open the spillway was going to be like watching the grass grow in the dead of winter.  The spillway is pretty impressive once it's mostly open and the river water is rushing through on its way to the lake, but the actual process of opening it involves pulling up one huge wooden pin at a time. Anyway, Saturday's ride went well, although I was careful to take it easy since I'm still worried about hindering this excruciatingly slow recovery for the worst cold I've had in a long time.

Sunday's ride wasn't starting until the civilized hour of 10 am, which was good because even by then the temperature on the northshore was barely 45 degrees with a stiff northwest wind making it feel considerably colder. I intentionally overdressed, for what should by now be obvious reasons, as eight of us headed straight into the wind for the next hour and a half. For the first seven or eight miles it was just a single paceline with Dustin sitting on the front at something like 17 mph and complete silence behind while everyone came to terms with the cold. Fortunately for me the ride pace was generally easy, so I don't think I did too much lung damage. We found two or three possible locations for parking for the race, although actually tracking down the property owners may be a bit of a challenge considering how little time we have.

We ended up with 66 miles at 17.4 mph, so kind of classic zone 2, LSD, base training, or whatever you want to call it. I was happy enough that I didn't have to sprint up any hills and that I didn't get dropped. So after the ride I had my car key in my hand and went to start putting bike on the roof, so I put the key on the roof, where I promptly forgot about it.  The problem is that the Volvo was still detecting the key up there and, thinking I had the key in my pocket as usual, I started the car and we headed back home.  A minute later we heard an odd noise and I said, "What was that?" thinking at first that wheels or something in the back of the station wagon had shifted. Almost immediately, though, I remembered the key.  Shit.  I pulled over at the first place I could and four of us scoured the narrow road shoulder and ditch, walking up and down both sides, sadly without any luck. At least the car was still running despite a warning on the console about the missing key.  I guess it's going to cost me a few hundred dollars to replace that key, which sucks.

This morning the temperature was in the mid-30s and when I woke up with a headache I decided maybe it would be a good day to skip. I think tomorrow I'll finally be back to my normal routine, although it'll clearly be nearly as cold as this morning.

Eggshells

It's been nearly two weeks since I came down with this cold and it wasn't until yesterday that I started to feel almost normal. I ventured out, intentionally overdressed, to meet Andrew for an easy ride on the levee. The temperature was in the mid-50s, the streets were dry, the wind was low, and it was nice and humid. It think it was a good decision and I felt fine, although it was amazing how strange it felt when I first got on the bike. Clearly, though, it will be some time yet before things are back to normal. There's still some lung and head congestion, and then of course there's the fact that I haven't really been on the bike consistently for almost three weeks now. I think the last time I was off the bike this long was when I broke a collarbone. Come to think of it, I'd rather be recovering from than than from this cold.

This morning it was raining.  I probably would have ridden out to the Giro and done just part of it if the weather had cooperated, but riding in the rain right now would be a big mistake. I'll essentially be walking on eggshells, or maybe riding on them, for the next week or so.  I'm afraid to do anything hard because I don't want to risk pneumonia with my airways still compromised.  It's a balancing act.

By tomorrow morning this cold front will have pushed through and the temperatures will be in the 40s.  I'll probably go across the lake with a few of the Tulane guys to check out a possible new course for the race. It's scheduled for the last weekend in February and essentially nothing has been done yet, so it's going to be a big push. There's a nice 17 mile loop up north of Enon that seems perfect. There would be only 5 turns, and of those only two of those would have the riders going through stop signs. The looming problem, however, is where we can park all the cars, and therefore where the start/finish will be. Then of course there's the matter of tracking down land owners and getting permission. Anyway, I'm a little worried about jumping on the bike for a 65 mile ride in cold air and headwinds at this point, so I'll be trying to keep my efforts as much under control as I can.

Mile One

It's the third of January and, yeah, I'm still sick. The weather hasn't been very nice over the past week. I don't think I've seen the sun since last weekend. It seems like it's just been nothing but cold, damp and dreary - at least that's what it's looked like through the window.  I haven't been doing much of anything except sitting around watching television and taking cold medicines that don't seem to help very much.

So anyway, I decided to ride out to the Giro Ride this morning. I had absolutely no plan to ride it, of course, but I thought it might do me good to at least get on the bike for an hour or so.  It night not have been the wisest decision, considering the cold air and all, but I went anyway, wrapped up in my winter jacket and shoe-covers. The only question after that was whether I'd ride with the group down to the end of Lakeshore Drive, or just go straight back home from Starbucks. I went with the latter.

Even at the conversational pace along Lakeshore Drive I could feel the cold dry air tearing at my lungs, and by the time I got home I couldn't take a deep breath without reflexively coughing. It's a lot like what happens sometimes after a very long, hot road race when I get dehydrated. I'm hoping it will go away eventually and not progress to pneumonia or something. This morning on the way out to the lake from Starbucks we saw them setting up the start for the 109th annual Jackson Day Race at Marconi and Robert E. Lee.  I guess they had to move it from the usual location over by Wisner because of the overpass being closed.

So anyway, my first ride of 2016 was a couple of days late and a few miles short, but at least I broke the ice, so to speak. After I got home Candy and the neighbors found an obviously lost dog who is now in the neighbor's back yard. Hopefully we can find the owner.

Not looking forward to going back to work tomorrow. It feels like I've missed my entire holiday vacation.

Under the Weather

I knew it was going to happen.  I caught a cold some time during our little Disneycation and for the past few days have been more miserable than someone standing in a 120 minute queue on a hot summer day for a ride down Space Mountain. There was a long list of things I wanted to do over the holidays, but it's looking like few of them will actually get done. In-between doses of cold medicine I was able to sit through the annual New Rules Webinar and Safe Sport Refresher courses, taking the brief tests afterward and presumably satisfying my official's license CEU requirements for next year. I also renewed my USAC rider and officials licenses and submitted the required background check information, and renewed my NOBC club membership, so at least all that's taken care of. My officials license is still showing up as "pended" due to a CEU requirement, but I'm assuming that's because everybody's on vacation.

On the new rules front, I was glad to see that they have finally changed the wording in the stage race rules so that the smaller stage races that don't use timing chips/cameras can specify how they will do pack timing.  We haven't ever complied with the older inflexible 1-second rule since it's neither feasible nor fair anyway. I'm way behind on a lot of LAMBRA stuff, and need to get some input on the annual meeting since we have some significant proposed revisions to the bylaws to consider and we are overdue for an election of officers. I kind of hate to have the meeting here since it would be a long trip for some people (i.e. they probably won't come). Guess I'll have to make some phone calls since email hasn't really gotten me much of a response.

Meanwhile, I'm just sitting here being alternately cold and hot, with a runny nose and scratchy throat, looking at the newly-arrived $3k+ property tax bill, the same gloomy sky we've had for the past couple of days, and the collection of potholes and patches outside the window that is supposed to be a city street. It's all a little depressing.

Happy Place?

There were a few things I knew from the outset.  It would be long and painful. I would be off the bike for nearly a week. It would be expensive, and I would probably end up sick.  I'm talking, of course, about a visit to the happiest place on earth, Disney World, and I was correct on all four counts.

We headed out from New Orleans for the long drive down to Orlando at around 6 am on a Monday morning. Meanwhile Danielle and Shannon were flying from Seattle to meet us there. I almost never make long drives on weekdays, and was a little surprised how easy it was. Even the notorious I-4 stretch was relatively sane as we approached Orlando at around 4:30 pm.

Just checking.....

This was the first time I'd been to Disney World since they started using RFID chips for everything. My little wristband held the key to our hotel room, our park admission, Fastpass reservations, etc.  We decided against linking our credit card to it, but that was also an option. Since Candy had bought the park "tickets" online through Orbitz when she'd arranged for the flights from and to Seattle, and then had added an extra day of room reservations at the last minute, things got a little confused and we had to get new wristbands after the first day, which involved multiple locations and multiple people, but it finally got done.  Our first day was actually at Universal Studios rather than a Disney park, although they are practically indistinguishable. The crowds weren't very bad, which I found surprising since I had been expecting the worst. Still, there were the usual long periods of standing in lines. Day two was mostly at Animal Kingdom, followed by Epcot, which was actually quite nice. We didn't really have much of a plan, but Danielle had downloaded the Disney App (which is pretty impressive) and gotten Fastpasses for some of the key attractions. I was amazed that the entire park had solid cellular, data, and even wireless connectivity, and I can't even begin to imagine how many point-of-sale transactions they are processing every minute. The behind the scenes data network infrastructure is always the most amazing part of Disney World to me.

We stopped to eat at the English pub, where I had a stout along with my hamburger and chips. The hit for four people was over $100, of course. We returned there for the fireworks show because there's a little patio area down behind the pub that's right on the water and is one of the best places to watch the fireworks show since few people know about it and even fewer can figure out how to get down there. All this time I'm thinking how the parks are less crowded than I'd expected, considering the holidays.

Spectacular as usual

Well, Christmas day we got up early and took the Disney bus (they run about 400 buses!) to the Magic Kingdom.  It was packed. I've been to Disneyworld a few times over the years, but this was the most crowded I'd ever seen it. After a couple of hours Danielle and Shannon bailed and went back to the hotel for a while while we soldiered on, waiting in some long lines since the only Fastpasses we had were for later in the evening. We ended up eating a dinner of hot dogs and fries, sitting on the sidewalk, waiting for one of the parades to start, where we met back up with Danielle and Shannon. We were able to knock out a couple of rides like Space Mountain with our Fastpasses before the big electric light parade started, which was nice but of course really, really crowded. Then we hit a few more rides before finally heading back to the hotel around 11 pm. We didn't stay for the midnight fireworks.  There was a fair amount of traffic for the drive back on Saturday, but it wasn't too bad and we were back home by 5 pm.  This morning I woke up with a sore throat.  I knew my chances of making it through the trip without getting sick were slim. Aside from the thousands of snotty-nosed kids running around the theme parks, Candy, with whom I'd spent about 18 hours in the car, had been working through a cold for the past week and Danielle was kind of sick on Friday. All I can do now is hope for the best, but at least the Christmas in Disneyworld trip is behind me.