Slip 'n Fall

Thursday morning -- Nope!

Cabin fever was definitely a thing in the aftermath of the historic snowfall event earlier in the week, but with practically no frame of reference, I didn't really know when it might be possible to actually get out on the roads again. I'd skipped riding (indoors) on Wednesday, but finally relented Thursday morning, and spent a slightly miserable hour on the trainer down in the basement.

Friday on the leveee

There were still tons of snow, some of which had started to melt, by Friday, but desperate times call for desperate measures, so around noon I decided to see if I could make it out to the levee bike path, which I knew would be fine. I also knew that getting there and back would not, so I rolled out onto the wet streets on the 'Cross bike with 36mm gravel tires, hoping for the best. I stayed mostly off of Carrollton, which I new would still have some icy patches since it's entirely under the oak trees, and eventually made it to the levee. By then the sun was shining and the path was pretty dry, so I had a nice little 20-odd mile ride. The temperature was up into the upper 40s by then, so that was a nice change. The bike path was littered with abandoned gloves and socks, and a whole host of items New Orleanians had pressed into service as sleds. Those included a lot of plastic bin lids, styrofoam belly boards, inflatable pool toys, and one full-size windsurf board with the skeg removed. My training week, and for that matter practically the entire month, was already shot, so I didn't make much of an effort.

Walking to the exit after the crash on Saturday.

Saturday morning I made the fateful decision to ride out to Starbucks and see if anyone else would be foolish enough to show up. Most of the ice was gone from the regular city streets, so there was really no problem at all riding out there, except for the temperature, which was just barely above freezing. As it turned out, there were about ten of us. Lakeshore Drive and Hayne Blvd. were fine, and as we turned onto Paris Road Brett and Peyton rolled off the front without any reaction from the rest. We rode over I-10, coming down onto 510 as usual, and that's around where things started going downhill. One section between there and Lake Forest is elevated interstate, and you could see a lot of snow piled up along the concrete barriers to the right of the roadway. We were in the exit lane, almost to the Lake Forest exit when Blake, who was in front on his track bike, suddenly slid out. He's hit a long patch of ice that must have formed when melting snow re-froze overnight. Well, needless to say, everyone behind him, seven or eight in total, also crashed. Fortunately everyone seemed OK, more or less. One shifter was destroyed, and I guess everyone landed pretty hard on hips and shoulders, but all were able to get up and walk on the slip-n-slide, rather gingerly, to the exit. A passing car informed Brett and Peyton, who came back to make sure everyone was OK. 

Needless to say, everyone bailed out onto Lake Forest for an otherwise uneventful ride back where they could lick their wounds. I had landed pretty hard on my right hip, and whacked my head on the concrete, cracking my Lazer helmet (which offers a 50% discount on crash replacemets, BTW). I had a pretty significant hematoma on the hip, and I knew my neck muscles were going to be sore, but otherwise I survived in reasonably good condition.  By afternoon the temperature had warmed up into the 50s, so I once again took the cyclocross bike out to the levee to log another 22 miles. The sun was out, I spotted four bald eagles, and it was generally a nice little solo ride.

Back on Lakeshore Drive on Saturday.

On Sunday we had maybe ten on hand for the Giro. By then the road conditions were much improved, and we did a full Giro with some long sections of rotating paceline. Nobody was in any great hurry, but with so few to share the work it was still a decent workout, at least for me.

Mellow Monday

This morning there was the usual group for the Mellow Monday ride, except for Charles who was at home thinking he needed to get an x-ray to see if he's broken any ribs, and VJ who had likewise landed pretty hard on Saturday and had also gone to the doctor to check for broken bones (he was OK). It was close to 60° so we had a nice ride. Maurizio surged up the Bayou St. John bridge on the way back, as he usually does, and we lost everyone, but regrouped on Canal.

So last week was a third low-mileage week for me, thanks almost entirely to the winter weather. 

Sneaupocalypse

Yesterday's weather turned out to be even more eventful than predicted, which is saying something since the prediction was right on par with a Category 4 hurricane. 

Layers...

Considering the forecasts of imminent disaster, I was happy to see Monday's mid-day temperature creep up close enough to 40° to make a MLK Day levee ride feasible, despite the 12 mph wind. Knowing that I'd be riding both alone and slowly (it was Mellow Monday, after all), I dressed extra-warmly, and even broke out the trusty old NOBC winter jacket from back in the green Desire Title days. It was a nice spin ahead of the approaching collision between warm moist air that would be streaming out of the Gulf, and an arctic cold front that would be slamming into it some time early Tuesday morning. I brought the potted plants in from the front porch, covered some of the more vulnerable ones with a plastic tarp, and generally prepared for the worst.

Some photos from throughout the day are in my google photos album.

Having lived here all my life, I was a little skeptical about just how much actual snow we would see. Often enough, the lake protects us from the worst of the winter weather, keeping the temperature just that little bit higher than everywhere else that is outside of the lake "shadow." Turned out my skepticism was badly misplaced this time. I got up early Tuesday morning to let the dog out, noting that there was already some sleet falling. By 7 am it was snowing lightly, and I was still thinking that a light snow was probably all we'd see around here. The last time there was real legit snow was probably 1963, the night before the Sugar Bowl. We lived just five or six blocks from Tulane Stadium, and I remember playing in the snow and building a snowman as football fans walked by on their way to the game. So I guess we were due. There had been a few snow events over the intervening years, and the snow and ice storm we got around 1989 just before Christmas was significant enough to shut the city down for a few days.

Well, by noon it was clear that this was going to be way more snow than I'd expected. The snow continued non-stop from 7 am until around 5:50 pm. They had gotten a few snow plow trucks from other states where this sort of thing happens on a time scale of months rather than generations, and around 4:30 pm I saw a few of them going down S. Claiborne, which is technically a state highway. Obviously only the major roads were prioritized. Still, the streets were virtually deserted. By 4 pm there was about ten inches of snow accumulation everywhere, and of course officials were strongly urging people to stay home. As of Wednesday they are still saying that. 

Around 1:00 pm I reluctantly went down to the basement, where the temperature was hovering just under 50° and broke out the ancient wind-trainer. I spent an hour spinning on that while watching a cyclocross race on YouTube. I guess something was better than nothing. 

By 5:00 pm the stairs were unrecognizable under a blanket of snow and the neighbors were sitting out in the front yard around a fire pit. It had been 30° all day, but was now starting to drop. The low last night was in the mid-20s. Anyway, although our water pipes are all in the basement, I went out to run water from the front and rear outside faucets, by which time the one in the back of the house was already frozen despite the pipe insulation and fact that it was less than six inches from the basement plumbing. I searched around for one of the increasingly rare incandescent light bulbs in the house and set it up in a clip-on work light where the old galvanized pipe goes throught the basement wall to the faucet. By morning it was running again. 

This morning I figured I'd better at least get the foot of snow off of the front steps and car before the sun turned everything into ice. I think it may get slightly above freezing here for a couple of hours today, but then tonight will again be in the mid-20s. At the moment, S. Claiborne is a slush-fest with increasing traffic. The shoulders of essentially all roads in the city are not rideable, and the middle of the roads aren't much better, although I guess some may take a shot at it on mountain bikes. At least the sun is shining. I guess I'll be on the trainer once again today, and perhaps tomorrow too since I doubt much of this stuff is going to melt before then.

Wind, Cold, and ... Snow???

It ain't over yet. The last week wasn't exactly a great one, weather-wise. I went out Tuesday in the dark to meet the 6 am group. It was in the 40s with what is now the ever-present northeast wind, but I was happy to find a decent enough group on hand to take on Lakeshore Drive. The wind kept our speed down to the upper teens as we made our way east to the Armory loop, and then of course it was faster as we headed west. Nobody seemed in the mood to push the pace too much, though, and by the time we got to West End I was alone, everyone else having turned off to head back home. Lured by the tailwind, and trying hard not to think about the inevitable headwind awaiting my return, I cruised out to the casino on the practically deserted, and not entirely dry, lake trail. Without putting much of an effort, it was 22 mph out and 15 mph back.

Wednesday was a little warmer, so I rode out to meet the WeMoRi with high hopes. As usual, I made a U-turn on Marconi and slotted in at the back of the group, which is never a good place to be. Unfortunately, someone on the front attacked after turning onto Toussaint, gapping me off before I'd adjusted to the effort. It happens like that sometimes. Having missed the draft after coming around the corner, and looking ahead at the strung-out line of riders ahead, I knew that closing the gap was hopeless, so I eased up, cut across the park on Filmore and rode upstream on Marconi until I could get pack into the group under better circumstances. It was not an entirely wasted workout, though.

Thursday was warmer but the streets were soaking wet. There were just a few riders at the 6 am meetup, and nobody was in a hurry. Rather than get even more wet on the lake trail that I knew would still be covered with runoff from the levee, I turned off early with Charles and just called it a day. By then we were already getting dire weather forecasts for the following week. 

Friendly Friday courtesy of Dylan

It was colder again on Friday, but at least the wind was relatively light. For reasons I can't explain, I was running late and didn't realize it until I glanced at the time as I approached the park and realized I would be two minutes late, so I just continued down Wisner, picking up the group on Lakeshore Drive. Once again, nobody was pushing the pace, so it was indeed a Friendly Friday in every sense of the word. The forecast for Saturday's Giro was not looking good.

Saturday morning it was warm with a south wind, and although it was supposed to be raining, it wasn't. I looked at weather.com and it showed little chance of rain for the next few hours. Then I looked at accuweather.com which showed lots of rain. I optimistically chose the former and rode out to Starbucks where I had just enough time to get my coffee before a light rain started. By then, weather.com's forecast was updated and it was ovbious we'd be rained out. A couple of people showed up anyway, but by then it was clear that the rain wasn't going to stop for a couple of hours. I rode back home in the rain with plans to try again later. At least it wasn't cold. So the word went out that we'd try for a levee ride at noon, by which time the rain would be over and the streets not so wet. I decided to ride the 'Cross bike, and stuck the ass-saver under the saddle since I knew the roads would still be a little wet and the chances of flatting would be pretty high. It was just Charles, Jeff, and me at the pipes, but we had a nice enough ride all the way out to Ormond and back. There were some wet and messy spots here and there, and it was fairly windy, but it turned out to be a nice ride, except for the fact that both Charles and Jeff flatted and I got sprayed with sealant, again. The forecast for the following Tuesday was now calling for snow, sleet, wintery mix, and freezing temperatures.

Sunday was another aborted Giro. The temperature was in the mid-40s, which wasn't so bad, bu the wind on the lakefront was howling out of the north at 29 mph with gusts to 36. A handful of riders showed up anyway, but once we hit Lakeshore Drive, and the crosswind, we quickly bailed onto Wisner to just ride a couple of laps around City Park. Meanwhile, Steven, Charles, Will, and Apryl did a long 100+ mile ride down to Pointe a la Hache, starting at 6 am. Although I'd considered joining them, I just could not summon up whatever it would have taken to get up that early on a cold morning to battle a 20 mph north wind. Of course they all got Strava KOMs on the long southbound stretch, anyway. I did not regret skipping that one.

The much anticipated cold front came through on Sunday, and when I got up this morning it was 31°F and windy, and there was no way anyone, including me, would be showing up for the 6 am Mellow Monday ride, especially since it was MLK day and most people were off from work. The sun is out right now, and it looks like the temperature may get up to about 40 by 1:00, so I'm planning on another make-up ride on the levee. Tonight it's supposed to drop down freezing again, and stay at about 30° most of the day with (gasp) snow showers predicted starting around 7 am. We'll see how that goes. At any rate, we'll be working from home tomorrow because the entire city is treating this like an approaching Category 4 hurricane. I'll have to play Tuesday by ear, I guess. Might even have to resort to the dreaded wind trainer again.

But wait, there's more! Wednesday morning's forecast is worse, and is calling for 24° at 6 am, following a 24 hour stretch of below-freezing temperatures that are sure to burst some pipes down here. We'll have to see how all that plays out, but it could be a bit of a mess around here because we are not equipped to deal with icy roads.

Weather Impact

Sadly, we lost Scott (far left) on Saturday. This
image from the 2020 Tour de La

Well, as predicted, the weather last week was, in a word, miserable. Miserable enough, in fact, that I never even tried to fish my phone out of my pocket to take any photos. So use your imagination. 

Tuesday morning was in the 30s and windy as all hell. Remarkably, three of us showed up for the 6 am ride - Charles, William, and me. A strong NNE wind kept the pace down on the way out to the Armory on Lakeshore Drive, and a lack of motivation, together with the temperature, kept it pretty much down in the other direction as well. We all bailed out at Canal Street, each with his own reason, or excuse, as the case may be. I was cold the rest of the day. Actually, I was cold the rest of the week.

Wednesday was supposed to be WeMoRi. It was again freezing cold, and after multiple days of cold and wind and rain, I just could not drag myself out of bed onto the dark streets that morning. Apparently, I was not alone in that regard. Charles went out there to find the parking lot deserted, and ultimately found only Will, who was also out there alone. The rest of the WeMoRi never got out their respective doors. The temperature was just above freezing, with the lately usual 15 mph wind. It was not fun.

Yeah, I knew that. 

On Thursday the situation was just marginally better. The temperature was still in the 30s and the wind, which had shifted a little bit more to the NE, was strong. Once again, it was just William, Charles, and me. I think Will pulled us basically all the way out and all the way back along Lakeshore Drive - 17 mph on the way out, 28 mph on the way back. Also, once again, we all bailed at Canal. I had a staff retreat that day over at the Audubon golf club where I was freezing the entire time. It was not fun.

Mother Nature threw some rain into the mix on Friday, so I dragged out the old non-smart wind trainer and stared at the Elapsed Time on my Garmin for an hour down in the basement. It was not fun.

Saturday morning the temperature was just a bit under 40°F with the now ever-present north wind. There were enough desperate riders that we had a decent enough turnout for the Giro. The wind, however, was playing games on the group, though, coming sometimes a little from the left, and other times from the right, but not quite so strongly that the riders up at the front could tell. At one point we were just a long single file up against the left lane divider because the guys in front were, I guess, thinking there was shelter to the right, and the guys at the back weren't willing to get out in the wind to ride up there and let them know. I eventually did myself. Anyway, it was probably the least miserable ride I did all week, even though I flatted on the way home along the Greenway. It seemed like a slow leak, so Charles tried out his new electronic pocket pump, which worked fine. I then took off with Will, hoping I could make it home before it went flat again, but of course no such luck. It was flat again before we got to Tulane Avenue, so I had to stop and put in a new tube with barely functional half-frozen fingers. That was no fun.

Later that day I learned that a friend and long-time cyclist, Scott Gumina, had unexpectedly died while on his bike up on the northshore. I think he was only 52 or so, so it was quite a shock to everyone. I heard that he had started with the regular "Posse" group that morning, and then turned back early. Another rider who had turned back later, or perhaps just happened to be going the same way, found him and tried CPR, but unfortunately to no avail. I think it happened somewhere on Old Military Road. 

On Sunday I, somewhat reluctantly, drove over to Mississippi to do a 72-mile ride that Steve and Charles had cooked up. The forecast was calling for a cold, dreary morning ahead of a lot of rain. It wasn't wrong. I guess it was barely 40°F when we rolled out north into a NE wind at the relatively luxurious hour of 9:00 am, comprising a group of 7. The sky was overcast and the forecast told me that it, and the temperature, would pretty much stay that way. After so many cold mornings, I wasn't playing around with my wardrobe any more, and had full tights, shoe-covers, Gore long-sleeve base layer, summer short-sleeve jersey, long-sleeve jersey, and wind vest. I was never hot, at least. Jess and Connor showed up, and Jess started out with little more than a long-sleeve jersey and tights, and without gloves. Yeah, she was freezing for most of that ride. I knew this would be mostly a winter Long-Slow-Distance kind of pace, so I also knew that overheating would not be a factor. On the plus side, despite the dreary winter landscape, traffic was light, consisting mostly of hunters in pickups splattered with red clay, loaded up with either dogs or ATVs, or both, only one of which tried to kill  us. All-in-all I was glad I'd gone, if for no other reason that the forecast for the rest of the day, and Monday morning, was calling for nothing but rain. In fact, by the time I got home it was raining. I guess the rain eased up some time around dawn, but it was way too cold and wet at 6 am to even consider doing a ride. Another weather impact day, I'm afraid.

As expected, Monday there was still a little bit of rain falling before sunrise on Monday, so once again, I didn't ride, unless you count riding to work, since by then the rain had moved on.

Meanwhile, the City is gearing up for the February 9th Super Bowl, which will probably feature some seriously blockaded streets and airport-level security. Of course everybody is trying to get in on the action, so all forms of advertising and special events are planned. Looking out my office window I can see two giant advertisements on buildings along Poydras, and more stuff being put up on the Superdome itself. All I hope for is that it will be relatively problem-free.

Winter Week Ahead

New Year's Eve Ride

The last week of 2024 started out warm, then became chilly, then got warm again. None of which is particularly unusual around here, but the cold front that came through in the middle of Sunday night brought with it a thirty degree temperature drop and a brutal northwest wind. It's looking like we now have a solid winter week, or two, ahead of us, and won't see a morning temperature in the 50s for a while. Welcome to 2025.

Tuesday morning the streets were damp and it was quite foggy when I rode out to NOMA. On the plus side, the temperature was in the 60s and the wind was light. On the minus side, I flatted out by the Armory, but everyone waited, and I got in the full ride out to the Casino and back anyway. I was still feeling unrecovered from the prior weekend's excessive mileage, but at least the pace remained moderate enough that I didn't feel like I was doing any additional damage. We were already getting predictions of a big cold front that would be hitting the area late on Sunday. While weather forecasts can be pretty sketch when the weather is coming out of the Gulf, Winter cold fronts coming from the northwest are usuall spot on. We had a visiting rider from the frozen North, aka Minnesota, to whom the damp 62 degree weather must have felt like a summer vacation.

Holiday Giro to start the new year.

Wednesday was New Year's Day, and so we had a Holiday Giro planned. It was chilly and a little windy, but I wasn't expecting a big turnout or a super fast pace. Checking my phone, I saw that the city had sent out a notice around 5:00 am about a "mass casualty" event around Canal and Bourbon streets, and I guessed it must have been some drunk driver incident like the one that happened some years back on Esplanade Avenue. I would later learn that it was way worse than that, and most definitely not an accident. Oblivious to the seriousness of the terror attack, we had a nice enough ride, despite the 10 mph north wind, and then spent the rest of the day watching the nonstop news coverage.

Friendly Friday

Thursday was colder, and although nobody seemed too interested in a hard workout, a few of us did complete the usual full ride. I was technically back at work, but because they had postponed the Sugar Bowl until that evening because of what had happened on Bourbon Street, it didn't seem advisable to go in to the office under the circumstances. At the time it was still a little unclear if there had been other people involved in the attack, so security around the Superdome was understandably even tighter than usual.

On Friday we had a nice turnout for the Friendly Friday ride. It was warmer, and the wind was light, and although it got a little spicy in places, it was the first morning that week where I felt more or less recovered from Sunday's ride around the lake. Afterward, I rode down to Faubourg Marigny with Charles, Dan, and Will for coffee.

Looking for coffee

A little cool front blew through that evening, so the temperature on Saturday was back to the upper 40s. There was a pretty significant east wind that kept the outbound speeds down a bit. For some reason the front of the paceline kept hugging the left edge of the right lane on Chef Highway, despite the fact that for most of it the more sheltered side was also on the left. The entire group was strung out single-file for most of the way despite some loud verbal suggestions on my part about not putting all of your riding buddies into the left lane. Granted, it's tough wind direction for that segment, and toward the end the road curves enough to shift the sheltered side from left to right. Of course, it's hard to complain too much when you are sucking wheels back in the cheap seats and aren't willing to move up into the rotation. 

After getting back home I swapped my road shoes for my mountain bike shoes to take a little test ride on the 'Cross bike. I had put a new saddle on it the night before. This was a Selle Italia Novus Boost saddle, which is a fairly inexpensive and well-padded one that I thought would be better for longer gravel type rides than the super-light road racing SLR that I had on there. It was. I rode some of the neighborhood gravel and some of the Audubon Park bridle path to give it a fair test. It is wider at the nose than I'm used to, and shorter as well, but it seemed fine, so I guess I should be OK for some extended gravel riding, at least from an equipment perspective.

At the Spillway in the wind, about to head back downriver.

Sunday morning it rained, and there was a super strong south wind blowing. I knew the Giro wouldn't happen, so I waited until most of the rain blew through and the streets started to dry out a little bit, eventually rolling out to the levee around 10:00 am. I'd guess that the south wind was around 20 mph, with gusts up into the 40s, but at least it was nice and warm. The bit cold front was supposed to come through that night, so I felt like I should maybe put in a little extra saddle time, even if it was only optimistically Zone 2. Although the river winds around quite a bit, the wind going upriver was largely crosswind, with just a few brief stretches of headwind or tailwind. I wasn't in a hurry by any means, but I was still lured into extending my ride all the way out to the Spillway. Once there, I looked down at the computer and decided to continue on for a few miles so I'd have a nice round 60 miles for the day. Coming back was definitely harder, but again most of it was crosswind. It was strong enough, however, that just keeping the front wheel headed in the right direction was a challenge, and I guess the stress involved in that was making my usual upper back and neck pain all that much worse.

This morning, as predicted, the temperature was around 43° at my house, and dropping, when I rode out into the 20 mph northwest wind. I didn't know if anyone would be insane enough to be out riding in that, but as I was circling the NOMA, Charles showed up at literally the last second. Obviously this was going to be just a charcter-building ride, so I shifted down to a nice low gear for the duration. Most of Lakeshore Drive was OK until we got out past Franklin to the east. There I could see the waves crashing over the seawall, and some areas where the westbound lanes were slightly flooded. We wisely decided to return to City Park via Leon C. Simon rather than deal with the cold spray of lake water. That turned out to be much better, but of course we were just soft-pedaling anyway. I was glad I'd ridden, but it took twenty minutes after I got home for my fingers to start working normally again. The rest of the week is looking to be pretty cold and windy, so welcome to winter.

Around Again

It had already been a high-mileage, if not high-intensity, Christmas week as we collectively closed in on another lap around the local Yellow Dwarf we call "The Sun," and I coincidentally closed in on another fourteen thousand mile year. As the week started, there was yet another lap in my immediate future, although I didn't know about it at the time.

The one nice thing about working for a university, aside from the frequent interaction with overworked administrators and overconfident students, is the long holiday break that this year began the Monday before Christmas and ends the day after New Year's Day. This provides great opportunities to do things like fix up the house, which I almost never actually get around to, and ride a lot, which I almost always do get around to. As we often do, we had a Holiday Giro ride the day before Christmas, which started off a little chilly but was otherwise nice despite the steady east wind that I was doing my best to avoid. 

On Wednesday, Christmas Day, it was warmer. I got up at the usual time for the WeMoRi, which I knew would not actually happen that day, looked out the window, and remembered that I could ride later when the sun was up and it was even warmer. 

I finally rolled out of the house some time after 7:30, on the 'cross bike, for a little easy spin before the scheduled festivities at my sister's house. Fortunately for my grossly inadequate off-road skills, the City of New Orleans has thoughtfully provided numerous stretches of gravel and dirt roads, interspersed with the occasional pavé segment, within a few city blocks of home. After sharpening my skills on those without incident I made my way out to the levee to ride the little batture trail. It made for a short but peaceful and relaxing  Christmas morning ride.

Thursday morning the somewhat wet streets were deserted as I rode out to NOMA to see if anyone would show up for the 6 am ride. Nobody did, so it was another solo ride for me, mostly along the lakefront. I did see a couple of other riders, also alone. So go the holidays, I guess. By then, Charles and Dan, who is apparently back in town, had hatched the slightly insane idea of doing a ride around the Lake the following Sunday, starting at the equally insane time of 4:00 am. These are the kinds of things that tend to happen around this time of year when people start looking at their annual Strava mileage and searching for some last-minute challenges to coax a few more kudos from their devoted followers. I was definitely on the fence, and definitely feeling no need for any additional challenges this year beyond just waking up each morning on the right side of the dirt.

Friday was another wet and even warmer morning as the wind had shifted around to the SSE, so I once again decided to wait for the sun to rise before venturing out. It wasn't until 10:00 that things looked good and the streets looked a little less wet before I stepped out the door and rode off toward the levee. Lured into a false sense of fitness by the tailwind, and the fact there was little traffic on River Road, I decided to drop down to the highway at the parish line and make the two-mile detour around the closed section of bike path. I ended up going all the way out to the Spillway and logging over 50 easy miles. By then I was starting to seriously consider joining Sunday's ride around the lake, despite the 4 am start and the fact that there were storms forecasted for Saturday night as a cold front was coming through. The hourly forecast predicted the rain to stop by 3 am or so, which was cutting things kind of close.

Saturday was the usual Giro Ride, which had a smallish turnout thanks to the weather radar, and despite a totally conflicting weather forecast. The Giro ended up being on mostly wet roads with a bit of rain during the ride, and then a significant amount of rain on my way home. I had to wash off the bike for the third time that week. Although the pace had been moderate, by Giro standards, I was still rather tired by the time I got home, soaking wet, and jumped straight into a warm shower. The higher mileage for the week was already taking its toll and I was already questioning my decision to ride around Lake Pontchartrain the following day. As predicted, there were some big thunderstorms overnight, but also as predicted, they ended around 2 am or so.

The alarm went off as planned at 3:00 am, and I looked out the window at the wet streets below. It was a dark and moonless night, and the wet streets made it harder than usual to see all of the little things that want to puncture your tires. My legs already felt a little sore and stiff, and if I had been expecting the ride to be fast I would have definitely bailed. The cold front was working its way through with a WNW wind that would be gradually shifting around to mostly north by early afternoon. The group had decided to do the ride in the counter-clockwise direction based on some rather tentative logic involving the wind, but, you know, it's a loop, so if there's wind, you aren't likely to escape it much. The temperature was in the low to mid 60s and would probably fall a few degrees over the next few hours until the heat from the sun could counter the cold air streaming in from the northwest. I arrived at NOMA to find just Apryl, and a text from Charles that he and Dan would be delayed because Dan's bike had a flat tire. It was an omen. Will rolled up shortly thereafter. I knew that three hours in the dark on wet streets would mean a flat tire or two among the five riders we'd have. That would turn out to be a huge underestimate. 

This image pretty much sums up the day.

We finally rolled out about fifteen minutes late with Dan, Charles, Apryl, and Will, and I immediately realized my rear tire was almost flat. I pulled a piece of glass out of the tire and put in one of my two tubes, and we headed out to Chef Highway where, ten minutes later, my rear tire was flat again. This time it was a piece of metal wire that I had to pull out using the scissors of my little pocket knife. We had gone ten miles and had three flats. Dan had forgotten his saddle bag at home, but the other four of us had two inner tubes each. We were now down to six, but no worries, right? The streets were still soaking wet and it was a dark moonless night, so although there was virtually no traffic, the next couple of hours from there to Slidell was all wheel spray and blinding bike tail lights. On the plus side, not a single car passed us on Highway 90 from Venetian Isles to Fort Pike. We stopped at the store in Slidell a bit before sunrise and then made our way to the Tammany Trace. There we found the soaking wet bike path strewn with debris from the prior night's storm. A tree was down at one point that we had to climb over. It was fairly sketchy riding, and Dan was trying to keep up a pace that some of us weren't, under the circumstances, and kept riding off ahead.  Dan wanted to see if Highway 190 would be a better option, so he, Charles, and I rode over to it, only to decide against the idea and return to the Trace. By then Apryl and Will were a few miles ahead of us, but when I called them I found out they were stopped to fix a flat (number 4 if you're counting). 

Then Charles flatted. As usual with a tubeless tire flat in the wet, it wouldn't seal. We eventually found another piece of steel wire, among other things, in the tire, then pinching the first tube we put in, and finally getting rolling again with another tube. So we had by then used 5 of the 8 tubes (by then I'd lost count) we had and still had about 100 miles to go. Dan rode off ahead of us to meet back up at the trailhead, and I called Mignon who lives practically along the Trace to see if she had any tubes she would give us so we wouldn't end up a Walmart. She saved the day by meeting us with four tubes. When we got to the Mandeville trailhead to meet up with Dan we found him with a flat front tire (#6). As we finished fixing that one, Apryl discovered that one of her tires was flat. So that made 7 (I think) flats, but thanks to Mignon we still had four good tubes and Will had an actual pump. As we were fixing Apryl's flat a group of triathletes showed up, having finished their morning ride, and taking pity on us, they donated a couple of CO2 cartridges to the cause. By then the streets were starting to dry out and we headed out of Mandeville toward Pontchatoula on infamous highway 22 where traffic was fast and heavy. We almost made it, but Charles had another flat, so we used another tube. On the plus side, the clouds were clearing and the sun was starting to shine. We were probably well over an hour behind schedule.

The rest of the way down highway 55 was thankfully without incident except that my Garmin battery finally died somewhere around Pass Manchac, thanks to the extra hour(s) and probably the fact that it had also been handling live tracking, the Varia radar tail light, and navigation. My Varia battery had already been warning me it was low, so I turned it off and then started Strava tracking on my phone for the remainder of the ride. It was right around noon by then, which wasn't far from the time I'd expected we would finish. We still had around 45 miles to go. 

We took a long break at the Circle K near LaPlace. People were starting to feel the miles by then. My neck was killing me from all of the tension caused by riding in the dark and watching for holes in the road and everything, and my legs were hurting from all of the extra miles I'd accumulated over the week. It also felt a little strange to be riding with a dead computer and no speed or mileage, but at least I knew the roads well by then. When we finally hit the levee bike path and headed east, the mostly west wind we'd been expecting had shifted to more northerly, but at least it wasn't a headwind. The final run-in along the levee to Oak Street was mostly uneventful, and I arrived back home with around 150 miles for the day, over 400 for the week, and quite sore legs.

Rule #9

Friendly Friday before the Flat

Rule #9 // If you are out riding in bad weather, it means you are a badass. Period. 

Well, not really. You might just be a little insane, or desperate, or obsessive-compulsive. Take your pick. So obviously my thoughts are, as they usually are this time of year, on the weather. For the past couple of weeks it seems like we have been going back and forth between cold north wind and warm southeast rain - often on the same day. Yesterday I went out in the morning in what was essentially summer kit with just a nod to the fact that the streets were still soaking wet, and by "nod" I mean wool socks.

New Shoe Day!

Speaking of socks and feet, I received the new Bont road shoes about a week ago. The worst part about new shoes is positioning the cleats, and it didn't help that Bont changed up the alignment grid printed on the bottom, so I was basically starting from scratch - again. On the first ride I felt like the cleats were just a bit too far back, and my troublesome right foot wasn't aligned correctly. I then made some microscopic adjustments and I think got a little closer to where they should be. My right foot still feels like it's pointing inward just a bit. This pair of 41s feel a little bit smaller than the last pair, but it's really too early to say anything for sure. The insoles that came with this 2024 updated model incorporate metatarsal buttons, so I haven't felt any urgency to rush out and find some of the Specialized insoles I've been using for years. Again, I haven't done any really long hard rides with them yet, so the jury is still out on that. I did get their special upgrade insoles, but haven't ridden with them yet. They include an optional stick-on metatarsal button that is kind of big. Anyway, I guess I have all winter to experiment. Frankly, the biggest problem I've had hasn't been with the shoes, but with the cleats. All I had on hand were the ubiquitous Keo Grip cleats. Every time I try to clip in, the rubber pad on the front of the cleat catches on the pedal. It's absolutely infuriating. The last time I used those cleats I got dropped at the start of two criteriums. Unfortunately, the non-grip versions are pretty rare, so I haven't gotten them yet. Instead, I used a razor to cut off some of the rubber on my left cleat, which helped a little, but didn't really eliminate the problem.

December flowers

This morning I went out to the WeMoRi knowing full well that I might be the only one. A cold front had come through yesterday along with rain all day, but on the other side of the front was dry, cold air, so by morning the streets were mostly dry. Of course one reason they were so dry was the 30 mph north wind. It was just above 40° when I headed out into it. As I approached Toussaint from Wisner I saw Brett go past, but I wasn't inclined to chase him. I figured that Lakeshore Drive was probably wet from water blowing over the seawall, so I was on the lookout for a group doing City Park laps as an alternative. Just as I started to turn north onto Marconi I heard someone call my name from the other direction. It was Geoff and Maurizio, who together constituted what there was of the WeMoRi, apparently. When Lisa blew past us on Wisner there was a very brief effort to catch her, but that didn't last long. We were all already firmly planted into Zone 2 territory. Anyway, it was not much of a workout.

The day before hadn't been much better. Tuesday morning the streets were soaking wet, but at least it wasn't cold. There was nobody at NOMA when I got there, which was no surprise. I did the route anyway, at one point meeting up with a couple of riders, but otherwise it was just a quiet solo ride that left the bike quite a mess. Monday hadn't been much better. It was just Colin and me for Mellow Monday. 

Last weekend's Giro Rides were both rather small and therefore not super fast.  Last Thursday it rained all morning, but I did manage to sneak out in the late afternoon for a solo levee ride. At least I saw one of the River Ridge eagles atop a power pole near their nest. The Friendly Friday ride the following day went better. We had at least a handful of riders on hand, including Charles who was about to fly out to Lithuania. It was all going nicely until we made the turn from Marconi onto Flimore and I realized my rear tire was almost flat. I told the others to go on, thinking that the slow leak might allow me to limp back to NOMA, but unfortunately it bottomed out about halfway down Wisner. It was freezing cold that morning and so it took me and my frozen fingers longer than usual to fix it.

It seems like every day lately there is some kind of threatening weather. It's cold, or windy, or wet, or about to rain, or some combination of the aforementioned. Kinda sucks, actually. Early morning meetings are going to interfere with my morning rides tomorrow and Friday, so basically the whole week  has been kind of a disaster. The forecast for tomorrow morning is calling for 43°, and I have to be at a meeting on campus at 8 am, and then other meetings downtown from 11 on, so I may not get to ride at all. Friday morning is another 8 am meeting, this time downtown, so the best I can hope for is an early escape and an evening levee ride, I think. 

December Too Soon

The holiday Giro riders starting to arrive Thanksgiving morning

On the first of December I finally broke down and changed the house thermostat from "Cool" to "Heat." It was the first time I'd fired up the heater since the new system had been installed over the summer, so I was glad that there were no surprises and the house didn't burn down. It's been pretty chilly, by my standards, since the day after Thanksgiving, with one little cold front following the other, yielding morning lows in the 47 - 52° range, along with the usual winds. As always happens this time of year, my thoughts switch from cool, expensive equipment to warm, expensive clothing, and getting out the door into the chilly early morning darkness becomes more and more of an uphill battle. 

Monday morning

My birthday was a week ago, on Monday, and is now more of a reminder of how time flies than anything else. So to lessen the blow, I had already bought a pair of last year's Bont mountain bike shoes for the 'cross bike that were on sale. Candy then ordered for me a pair of the new Bont Vaypor road shoes to replace my old ones that have accumulated almost 72,000 miles despite the fact that I still think of them as my "new" road shoes. Again, tempus fugit. They were not cheap, but I guess if I amortize the cost over five or six years, it doesn't seem quite as bad. I remember buying cycling shoes from the local shop for $30, so the sticker shock is real. Danielle, who is currently in Okinawa, send me a front and rear light kit, so that was nice since I was wanting another set so I wouldn't have to move the Garmin Varia from one bike to the other. Anyway, the Monday morning ride was the usual Monday morning ride, and things were quiet at work, and there was cake that evening.

There was some rain that night, so the roads were pretty wet when I reluctantly rolled out on Tuesday morning. As you'd expect, turnout for that ride was minimal, but there were still three of us left for the stretch out to the casino and back along the lake that featured a few puddles in the usual spots, and a fair amount of wheel spray. It was still reasonably warm for the pre-Thanksgiving Wednesday WeMoRi that featured a larger than usual turnout and a number of heroic but mostly unsuccessful attacks, and finished up with Lisa well off the front after launching off of the Bayou St. John bridge with Eddie.

I was "working from home" along with practically everybody else since it was the day before Thanksgiving and there wasn't a whole lot going on. The weather was still nice ahead of a cold front that was expected to come through on Thanksgiving day, so late in the afternoon I snuck out for a casual ride on the levee. As I made the u-turn out at the parish line where the bike path is still barricaded, I saw a fully loaded rider on a recumbent climbing the levee from River Road. He (Andre Wakeford) was riding the Southern Tier route, having started in San Diego. Since I was already in sight-seeing mode anyway, I rode along with him all the way back at about 10 mph. Google maps was telling him to get off of the bike path and onto River Road, so it was good that I was there to tell him to stay on the bike path. I led him through Audubon Park and sent him on his way down St. Charles Avenue after letting him know that he was going to run into a little problem when he got to the West Pearl River on Highway 90. I never heard back from him, so hopefully he managed to haul those 90-pounds of bike and gear over the barricades at the closed bridges, since the only alternatives were I-10 or a 90-mile detour. He does seem to have a blog, so perhaps we'll eventually see something about his ride through New Orleans. Anyway, I ended up riding over 60 miles that day since the forecast for Thanksgiving day was not looking too good.

Last warm ride of the week

Thursday morning the radar was surprisingly clear for the Holiday Giro Ride, although it was looking like the rain and cold front would start moving through around mid-morning. Nonetheless, we had a nice turnout for what turned out to be a reasonbly brisk and warm ride that featured an increasing southwest wind. As we got close to Lakeshore Drive at then end of the ride we could see the line of approaching clouds, and indeed got a brief little sprinkle of rain, but fortunately got home well ahead of the actual cold front that didn't really arrive until that evening. Of course Candy cooked a big turkey, so we'll be eating that for a couple of weeks, I guess. The cold front, and the rain, came through mostly overnight, so when I woke up on Friday morning the streets were still quite wet. Realizing that I didn't have to go to work that day, I decided to wait  until things dried up a little before venturing out. I ended up hitting the road around mid-morning and suffering through a  rather chilly and windy levee ride. By the time I was heading back the sun came out, so that made it a little better, despite the 14 mph north wind.

By Saturday morning it was starting to feel like winter. The temperature was down to the low to mid-40s and there was a strong northeast wind. I pulled on my new NeoPro bib tights for the first time that day and headed out for the Giro wearing at least three layers, but saving some pocket room for the wind vest that I knew I'd be removing later because there wasn't a cloud in the sky. The eastward segments of the Giro were all relatively slow but hard pushes into the wind, and the southward and westward segments were more like 28-32 mph efforts. Fortunately the group was large and there were lots of places to hide. Also, there were really only a handful of riders willing to be at the front for any length of time. By the time we were heading back it had warmed up into the 50s. 

Audubon Park

I got home, had a little bit to eat, and decided to try out the new mountain bike shoes and the 36 mm Continental Terra Speed gravel tires I'd put on the cyclocross bike. I was pleasantly surprised by both. The shoes felt great and the cleat position seemed fine, although I will definitely want to add some Specialized insoles. I had about 40 psi in the tires, and was surprised how much more smoothly they rolled than the regular 33 mm cyclocross tires. Of course, I knew they would feel better, but I didn't think the difference would be quite so noticeable. I rode down Broadway, which currently features a few stretches of gravel due to unfinished road work, and then rode some of the Audubon Park bridle path and levee top, before doing a few miles on the levee bike path and returing via Broadway. 

Sunday's Giro was just as cold and windy as Saturday's had been, so I was again bundled up in winter gear, unlike Steve who was still riding in just shorts and arm-warmers. Again, it warmed up lot on the way home, but at least I'd been cozy warm on the way out that morning.

It looks like we will still have a couple of cold mornings before things warm up. This morning it was right at 50° when I left home, but there was a strong north wind blowing. I immediately wished I'd worn a wind vest, since I could feel the cold morning air blowing right though my jersey and base layer. It was chilly, but not bad enough to turn back, although I must admit that the thought did cross my mind. The next ten days are calling for another little front on Thursday, and then a significant chance of rain for a number of days as the wind shifts back around to the southeast and we wait for the next cold front to arrive, so situation normal.

Wayward WeMo, BSL Ride

Saturday in Mississippi

Last week seemed particularly disjointed, for multiple reasons. I headed out early Wednesday morning to meet up with the WeMoRi as usual. The temperature was still in the mid-70s and there was a significant east wind, neither of which should have caused any problem for the ride. There was, however, one little fly in the WeMo ointment. That film crew is still working around one of the houses on Lakeshore Drive, and even at 6 am there are lots of people there and the road is barricaded - some days more than others. Each morning, it's a roll of the dice whether a bunch of bikes can slip throught the cracks in the barricades. On the assumption that the group was able to do its usual route, I went out to Lakeshore Drive, looped around the fountain circle, and made my way back to Marconi, looking expectedly over my shoulder for the flickering headlights of the WeMoRi that usually appear right about 6:10 am. Well, 6:10 came and went, and still no lights. I hovered around for a little while, but soon abandoned hope and turned back down Marconi, assuming I'd be doing a lap around the park alone. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, an three-person group of Steve, Marurizio, and Sam came flying by, so I latched onto whatever scant draft there was at the back. When we hit the Wisner overpass, though, Sam and/or Maurizio attacked it, opening a gap on Steve, to whose wheel I was desperately clinging. Despite Steve's heroic effort, we never quite made contact with the lead duo again, and by the time we were nearing Lakeshore Drive again, Steve was toast and turned off onto LSD westbound to head home, leaving me to my own devices. I eventually found out what had happened that morning. It seems the police were particularly lively that morning and had prevented the group from continuing down Lakeshore Drive, so the riders decided to do two laps around City Park to make up the difference. Somehow that kind of shattered what there was of the group, and the timing was such that they were on Toussaint as I was hitting Lakeshore Drive, so I missed them entirely. Anyway, it was kind of a mess. 

On Thursday there was a 10 mph NNW wind, but at least we had a few riders on hand for the long ride out to the casino and back. I think Maurizio was on the front about 80% of the time, but it still didn't feel like an easy ride. The bike path along the lake was pretty wet from levee runoff, so although it didn't rain on us, there was a fair amount of wheelspray to deal with, and I got home kind of wet and grimy for at least the second time that week. 

Friday threw another monkey wrench into the works, at least for me, because I had to work a Tulane conference that started at 8 am. On the plus side, I was able to slip away around 3 pm for a few miles on the levee. By then the weather was pretty nice, with just a bit of a northeast wind. I rode out to the upriver end of Jefferson Parish where it's been barricaded since last Spring. I thought I could see some torn up levee in the distance, but at any rate, the section right at the parish line is still completely untouched. Riding back downriver I saw an eagle dive down below the batture trees along the river and then come back up with a fish, flying almost directly over me before deciding to perch atop one of the big metal power line posts to eat its catch.

I had been considering doing a little informal gravel ride over in Mississippi on Saturday to try out the new tires I'd put on the 'cross bike, but when I pulled out my MTB shoes I discovered that the sole was separating from the rest of the shoe and decided maybe that wouldn't be a good idea. Luckily, I found a pair of last year's Bont MTB shoes on sale on the Bont site and ordered them. Ordering directly from Bont pretty much guarantees I won't seem them for another week or so. Amazon they are not. So as a result, and in consideration of all of the missed mileage I'd already accumulated that week, I decided to do the 73-mile ride out of Bay St. Louis (more or less) that Steve M had lined up.

So Saturday morning I headed for Mississippi, stopping briefly at the relatively new Starbucks along I-10 in Slidell. Crossing the 5-mile bridge, the temperature was around 65°, but by the time I-10 headed east for Mississippi, it had dropped to around 55°. No surprise, of course, as I was expecting to see something around 54° for the start. On the plus side, there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the wind was fairly light, relatively speaking. We had I think nine riders for this ride, and as usual it was mostly smooth enough paceline that you could enjoy the scenery. Toward the end a couple of riders started to come off the back on the little climbs, so we waited a few times at intersections for them to catch up. It was a pretty nice ride, so I was glad I'd made the trip. Sunday was a regular Giro day for me. We had a good enough group, a bit smaller than usual I'd say, but still enough to allow for some recovery time at the back. Rob was kind of pushing the pace on the way out along Hayne and Paris, but turned off at Chef, after which things kind of settled down a bit. I was feeling fine, the prior day's ride not having left much of a mark for some reason. This morning, Monday, however, I was feeling like crap, possibly due to too much wine the prior evening, or maybe just accumulated stress, so I quickly dropped back to a spot where the draft was wider. The Mellow Monday pace wasn't particularly fast, so that strategy worked out fine, which is to say I survived. 

Adams Street, a couple of blocks away. A long and winding road?

The forecast for tonight and tomorrow is not encouraging. From 5 am through 8 am the probability of rain goes from a dismal 98% to an equally dismal 84%, so it's likely to be a rain day until the next cold front blows in around noon and the winds shift around to the north again, which means cold and wind for Wednesday and especially Thursday and Friday. It looks like we will be riding the meteorological roller coaster for a while, with cold fronts followed by warming followed by cold fronts. Nothing below 50°F for the next ten days, though, so it'll just be a matter of dealing with rain and wind.