Thursday, April 20, 2017


     For all those expecting something else, sorry, this is about me getting old.  I keep a spreadsheet of my rides (yes, I'm on Garmin Connect and Strava but rarely actually use them).  Several years ago, 2011 to be precise, I started a new sheet and sorta lost track of the old one.  On the new sheet I have a page (Jester) dedicated to the rides I call my "hill route."  I've posted several times about this route, in that I use this get my HR up to maximum.  The last ramp up Courtyard never (hardly ever) fails to bring out the top rate of the ride, and when I'm feeling particularly energetic, my overall max.  I use this to set my zones.  But I digress, this post is about gearing.
     I came across my pre-2011 spreadsheet and transferred the Jester data.  And thus begins me gear tale.  Apparently I first began doing this route in 2008, at age 65.  At that time my road bike (custom titanium Roark) had a 53-39 chain ring and 12-27 cogs (as best I remember).  I struggled up Courtyard and Jester (and Rain Creek and Bluegrass) but accomplished the circuit in one hour and twenty minutes on average.  For the next two years I mostly stayed under 1:25.
     The next year I experienced real difficulties on Courtyard, to the extent of having to walk the last ramp.  The ego took a big hit on that day.  I had to face the reality of not having the oomph to push the gear.  I swallowed hard and switched to a compact crank.  Interestingly enough, my times stayed the same.  But then a different reality set in.  In racing Walburg I found myself spinning out and losing ground on the downhill, and quickly finding myself alone on the road.  So I moved on to a triple.
     Now, in 2012, my times stayed in the low 1:20's and I reeled myself up Courtyard and Jester a record 25 times.  But 2013 had me struggling again.  I switched to a 28 cog which was enough to keep me in the saddle.  I hung on for another two years, but in 2016 jumped to a 32.  I've had my fun remarking about people who have dinner plates for cog sets, so I'm now getting my comeuppance.  Most of my times moved to being under 1:35.  For the first four rides in 2017 I stayed at 1:35.  But then I needed new shifters, which turned into also a new crank set and derailleurs.
     Surprise!  The new crank set had a granny gear of 30 and my 28 no longer matched up so couldn't be transferred.  My fear was that I'd lost at least one gear and wouldn't make it up Courtyard.  As it turns out, I made it up Courtyard just fine, and in the fastest time for the circuit in three years.  I then did a check on Sheldon Brown's Gear Calculator and it looks like I only lost half a gear.
     The older you get the harder you have to work to maintain fitness.  I'd love to be able to push that 39-53 everywhere, but it is a fact of life, when the road turns up, I need bigger gears.  I recently emailed Marty Jemison that if I ever took his signature tour in Spain I'd need an Ebike.  But I'll keep pedaling as long as I can.

Sunday, April 9, 2017


     First the back-story.  In 2004 my friends Ray and Byran talked me into coming to Washington State to ride the John Wayne Trail.  This is a rail-trail with the famous two-mile long Snoqualmie Tunnel.  As an inducement Ray would provide the bike, a very nice fully-suspended mountain bike.  We had a great time (included in Bicycle Journeys with Jerry).  Ray wanted to sell me the bike but I wasn't inclined.  However, I agreed that if he could build me a bike for $1500, I'd buy it.  He did, and I did.  Since that time I've done multiple rail trails on my KHS bike.  But these rides are few and far between.  Most of the time the bike just hung in the garage.
     I've mentioned several times that when I realized I'd not ridden in any of the states bordering Texas, that became my next goal.  I did New Mexico last year and have signed up with Velo View Bike Tours for their Arkansas adventure.  Arkansas will be a gravel grinder.  I determined to get a few rides in before we go in June.  I missed one in early March, so was looking forward to March 18th and the Gravel Grinder to Bastrop, an eighty-three mile out and back.
     Let me quote from page 15 of Gotta Go! Cycling Vacations in Fantastic Locations: "When riding on non-asphalt trails, limit yourself to no more than forty miles per day."  Of course, this means when taking a cycling vacation on rail-trails.  But I had not mounted my mountain bike in over four years and my stamina is not up to eighty miles of gravel.   So, I whined a bit and found someone else who also only wanted to do forty miles.  As luck would have it, she is part-owner (not sure of Dani's formal relationship) of Velo View and she would drive the van to Bastrop and I would drive it back.
     When I drove into the departure point I quickly determined everyone else had their cyclocross bikes.  It was a good size group, in the neighborhood of 12-14 riders (I counted at the time but now can't remember).  I had a sinking feeling, soon verified, that most of the mileage would be on asphalt.  Something like six miles of gravel, and only a few patches where I fish-tailed.
     We left Pflugerville at 8:30am under cloudy skies and a slight wind in our face (as long as we were headed in a southerly direction), and a mild sixty-five degrees.  Perfect riding weather.  I had carefully measured the saddle height and position, so was a bit perturbed to find a bit more than the proper "slight bend" in my leg at full extension.  I could have used another millimeter.  Nothing I can't fix later.
     Truthfully, I cruised along on the streets, bikeways, sidewalks, whatever quite comfortably.  Only one trouble-spot: a surprise turn up a short, steep ramp.  I didn't have time to get a proper gear so had to gut it up and around.  Other than raising my heart-rate a bit, successfully achieved.  Dan led the group and I slotted in somewhere mid-pack.  Between twenty-five and thirty miles my legs started complaining.  Welcome to the club, my shoulders and triceps were unhappy from the get-go.  Then we hit the gravel.  I waved good-bye to the group as I dropped off the pace.  Of course, I wasn't left behind, either Dan or someone else dropped back to keep me in sight and we regrouped a couple of times.  The fat tires of the mountain bike had no problem in the gravel, which thankfully was mostly packed with very little wash-boarding.  The few spots of deeper gravel were more of a diversion than a hindrance.
     It wasn't until we stopped in Bastrop that I actually got off the bike and saw that the saddle bolt had loosened and the saddle had slipped back about an inch and a half.  I was grateful the bolt hadn't come out completely, as I envisioned riding without a saddle at all.  I was also grateful for having arranged to be in the van for the way back.
     We lunched at Neighbor's Kitchen.  This is a great place, good food, live music, overlooking the Colorado River.  Dan wasn't feeling too well, and decided he would drive back, so I rode shotgun.  Dani had the lesser end of our ride-sharing, in that while she now had a slight tailwind she also had about fifteen degrees of heat more than I had.  It was also a gain in elevation.
     The plan for the van was to hop-scotch the riders, but Dan saw a road leading off to the left and wanted to see where it went.  Always on the lookout for some good gravel to ride.  As it turned out, several miles down it ended at a plant.  Now we know.  Upon our return to the route, the gravel part, we saw one of the ladies riding by herself.  Dan decided he would join her so she wouldn't be riding solo.  Thus the driving duties fell to me.  As it turned out, one of the guys had also stopped for her, so she found herself with several companions.
     A little later, at a turn, one of the guys had lost contact by riding ahead of everyone.  Dan asked me to drive straight to make sure he hadn't gone that way.  Several miles down the road, it ended at a T intersection and no rider was to be seen.  Back I went, got on course, and eventually caught up with the group and passed them and finally set up a hop-scotch scenario.  A few miles further and one of the other guys had had enough, and decided to SAG in.
     Like any good sag van, water and Nuun was available and copiously used.  Only a few miles from the finish, one last stop for water refills, and then I headed to the shop.  The cyclists would come off the road and back on the bikeway and through the neighborhood.
     I rate this a successful outing on the mountain bike, even if the gravel miles were minimal.  And, of course, riding with friends is always fun.

Saturday, April 8, 2017


     Actually, today's ride was with Brian and Callie.  But we were there because of Callie.  She is going to do the Rookie Tri in Austin, more specifically at Lake Long (previously Decker Lake).  She is a self-professed terrible swimmer, but a better-than-a-lot cyclist and a good (but could be better) runner.  I felt she could make up a lot of time on the bike, but would need something better than what she is currently riding.  I have a super fast Felt B2 with Zipp 404 and 808 wheels and thought this would give her the edge she needs.  The ride today was a recon of the course.
     Reality set in.  Callie has never ridden with aero bars and we are only four weeks away from the race.  While that is enough time to be familiar with the bars, it really isn't enough to be comfortable in a race.  Plus, in thinking about the course, I decided now wasn't the time to break her in on a TT bike when the course itself is hilly and pretty rough for long patches.  We went with Plan B: putting the Zipps on her bike.
     Apparently the Expo Center is having a vintage bike show.  A very large one.  Old cars streamed by our parking place for several hours, getting into the Expo Center.  Traffic backed up.
     I am really, really familiar with this course.  They run the Decker Challenge and the Double Decker (foot races, 13.1 and 26.2 miles respectfully) there and back when I was running marathons, this is the course where I strained my achilles so badly that eventually I stopped running and turned to cycling.  It is also the course for an Austin Senior Games cycling event (2005).  It was my second year of racing and I earned two bronze medals in the time trials and got a flat in the road race.  The flat came as I turned a corner too fast and rolled the tire (or something to that effect).  It is extremely challenging with quite a bit of climbing.  Much more so than in most time trials.  I hate this course.
     But to be sure Callie got a proper recon, I sucked it up and we rode it.  The temperature was great, the wind likewise.  I won't describe it as gale-force, but quite strong.
     Because of traffic concerns we skipped part of the route by taking the bikeway up to the gun range and started on Lindell Road.  This is best ridden in the middle of the road, and can be taken in the big ring.  At the end of Lindell is a right turn and an immediate uphill.  In my opinion, you should reduce to the small chain ring while coasting up to the turn and go for the high rpm's.  I lost Brian and Callie on this hill and followed as best I could.
     They waited for me at the top of the next hill and we headed east toward the toll road and a right turn and another hill.  I'm pleading oxygen debt in not recognizing the next turn.  We stopped at it, Brian suggested it was the right road, but I didn't think so.  He acquiesced and so we added two more hills and about four miles to the circuit.  Just as well, in that we had a nice stop at a convenience store.
     Back on course, we now came upon backed-up traffic threading its way into the Expo Center.  We had a wide right-of-way so cautiously made our path through the cars and back to the starting point.
Round two.  Back on the bikeway, back on Lindell Road.  They are warmed up, I am tired.  At least I kept them in sight.  So much so that I saw Callie miss the turn (the one Brian rightly had the last time and who was waiting a bit past it this time); I saw Brian come back and chase her down.  Well it took him at least a half mile, maybe three quarters to catch her.  I, meanwhile, stopped at the turn and waited for their return.  They never returned.  I figured they had taken the same path as the first loop, therefore headed down the correct road to the intersection I knew they would come to.  Sure enough, less than five minutes later they were in sight.
     We made it back to Decker Lane, but rather than stay on course and take a right turn, we intentionally went straight.  Without the backed up traffic, cars were now at full speed.  We didn't need that hassle.  So we rode an extra couple of miles and picked up the bikeway and cruised back to our starting point and the cars.  I got my wheels back.
     What with the wind and trying to keep up with Brian and Callie, I was pretty much tuckered out.  It was fun and nobody got hurt (always a good thing).  I've written before how I can be going full bore and look in my mirrors and she seems to be filing her nails (certainly not being winded).  She feels the same when she rides with Todd and Brian and whoever else.  But that is the good part of riding with friends.  You give it your best, and if they are faster they'll wait at an appropriate place.  It's about riding, not about placing.

Monday, April 3, 2017


     Regular Readers know I make repeated claims that I'm into racing mainly because it keeps me in good cycling form.  I got into Senior Games in 2004 as an adjunct to my club rides and touring vacations, and found it to be fun.  The competition is healthy and friendly.  My toughest opponent is also my team mate when we do teams.  We like to win, but mainly we like to do well.
     Which brings me to today's post.  For the last year and a half I haven't been doing all that well, climaxing with a dismal last place in the USAC time trials.  My leg strength was abysmal.  Had I not been racing against guys my own age (within the five-year age category), I might have chalked it up to finally getting old.  But they were ageing at the same rate, so it had to be me.  I made some changes last November.
     In February my first races in College Station went well.  I felt some life in the legs, winning the time trials and also a surprise gold in the road race.  In March, under very windy conditions in Dallas, I managed a gold and silver (also a bronze in the road race, but there were only three guys in my category, it was a very distant third).  More importantly, the legs felt good.
     Yesterday, the races in San Antonio were delayed an hour while a line of thunder storms rolled through.  Apparently the threat of rain and with this not being a qualifying year for Nationals combined to reduce the field.  The first race of the morning was the 10k time trial.  The road was wet and we had a strong wind in our face going up the back-side hill.  While not particularly steep, it seems to go on forever and with the wind I had to move all the way up the cogs.  I took the corners gingerly, scrubbing speed and not leaning as much.  But the conditions were the same for everybody.  I came in over a minute faster than second place.
     With the wind and now sunny skies, the course dried out for the second race, the 20k road race.  I found myself alone in my category, so more or less noodled five laps.  Mind you, I still worked hard but absent race tactics it was more or less a time trial without aero equipment.  I didn't get lapped, and actually passed a few of the younger riders.
     An hour later it was time for the 5k time trial.  Usually San Antonio has a two-day schedule, with the 10k tt and 20k road race on Saturday and the 5k tt and 40k road race on Sunday.  Apparently Saturday wasn't available this year, so they deleted the 40k road race and did the other three on Sunday.  Anyhow, my legs were tired.  This was an out-and-back, but still took in about three-quarters of the back-side hill plus another short one.  My previous slowest time has now been exceeded by forty-five seconds.  But again, I managed to come in first.
     I  measure success by how well my body moves the bike, not the placement in a race.  Of course, winning usually means I'm in good shape.  I'm looking forward to our vacation in the North Georgia mountains.  This is where I'll know for sure if I have my legs back.

Tuesday, March 14, 2017


     When I ride in a group I'm pretty much silent.  Conversing with me is always an adventure.  Given that I'm deaf in one ear and hard of hearing in the other, and that I remove my hearing aid when riding, it is easier to remain mute rather than ask someone to repeat themselves, in what is usually a banal remark anyhow.
     Given that background, I had a really fun evening last night.  This year's inaugural Monday Night ride out of Pflugerville had us going on a generally north-south loop and included some roads I was unfamiliar with.  I vaguely remember going the other way on one section, but that isn't germane to the narrative.  Because we have several miles of in-town riding I brought along my GoPro in case something interesting occurred.
     Nothing did.  We did pass an exotic animal farm and saw some zebras.
 Rather than erase the recording immediately, I started going through it to see if I had the zebra.  As I sat watching and listening (with my hearing aid) on the big-screen computer, I heard a strange thump-thump-thump.  Yes, that was me thumping along.  I'm surprised my companions hadn't mentioned how annoying I was.  Of course, I didn't hear a thing.  I was familiar with the sound.  If I don't position the mini-pump in its holder just right, the pedal clips it on each rotation.  With the wind at our backs, I was doing about 80 rpm.  Apparently on some of the rougher roads, the pump shifted position.
     Well, I went out to correct the situation this afternoon only to find I no longer had a mini-pump in its holder.  Gone.  Pook, ding-fu!  Now, the mini-pump is a redundancy, in that my primary air is compressed.  When I'm expecting difficulties I even carry two cartridges.  In the last fifteen years, I've only needed the mini once.  But when you have a bad day, and ruin all your tubes and cartridges and still need air, this is there.  I guess I'll be off to Bicycle Sport Shop for a replacement.

Sunday, March 5, 2017


     The previous post was bare-bones reporting.  But in re-reading, I stopped to ruminate about the lack of speed going downhill with the wind.  I also postulated that I didn't utilize the much-needed 11 cog.  I have a spread sheet going back ten years.  Occasionally I actually go back to see what I've done, but mostly I ignore the stats.  The bulk of my riding is recreational, so there isn't much to be gleaned by poring over them.  I did pick up a nugget this afternoon.
     But first a pearl of wisdom: If you know what you have to do to achieve a goal, but don't do it and don't achieve your goal, then you have no one  but yourself to blame.  I've known for years that to get faster I need to up my cadence from 80 to 90.  Yes, Todd and Dan, you've told me time and again.  I've also procrastinated, starting in fits and spurts to spin, but always coming up with an excuse to fall off that wagon.  With the addition of a cadence counter (Garmin GS-10 donated by Jason Wright, thank you again) to my trainer bike, I'm getting serious about the cadence.  I've had to come up a gear as I get used to it, but can achieve 90 rpm for three five-minute stretches.  I've yet to train outside using cadence to control the effort.
     Which brings me back to Saturday's races.  Besides recording on my spreadsheet, I also upload the data to the Garmin Training Center.  This creates a nice graph with multiple lines, in this case I graphed speed and cadence.  I also utilize Sheldon Brown's gear chart, having made charts for both 80 and 90 rpm.  It clearly shows in the 5k time trial I followed my game-plan of 90 rpm for about three-quarters of a mile.  Then, rather than shift to an easier gear I dropped rpm.  Sheldon Brown shows you can maintain or go faster at 90 rpm even in one smaller cog.  Ok, maybe the wind in my face was a factor.
     Then I got the wind at my back.  I was going up the incline in a big gear.  The relief I felt at getting the wind helped push me off my game-plan.  I took satisfaction in going faster: 26 mph at 79 rpm.  In looking at the chart, I apparently was in the 13 cog.  Had I been in the 14 at 90 rpm, I would have been doing 27.4.
     The downhill was worse.  I remember feeling the exhilaration of speed.  But my top speed was 29 mph at 83 rpm.  I had plenty of oomph left to ramp it up to 90, which would have put me at 31.9 mph.  I don't know if I could have, but the 11 cog at 90 rpm would have come in at 34.8 mph.  It concerns me that I was satisfied at 83 rpm.  My heart-rate graph looks like I flat-lined at 143 beats per minute (which is only 84% of max).  Perhaps the long waits to start had something to do with it.
     In any case, I have a good game plan, I just need to stick with it, keeping my mind on the race at all times.  Surely I can do that for eight minutes, or sixteen.


     Lack of sponsorship had put the Dallas races on hold for several years.  However my racing partner Dean has been persistent and finally was able to put it together.  We thank the Dallas Parks and Recreation Department.  I had to cancel my 40k time trial in Beaumont (which I really like) due to conflicting dates, but the Senior Games need to be supported.  When I first started with them in 2004 there were games in Killeen, Austin, Kerrville, and San Antonio in addition to Dallas.
     I wasn't real thrilled with the weather forecast: 58-62 degrees, SSE wind at 12 mph with higher gusts, cloudy with rain/drizzle scheduled for 3pm.  Our race course was the outer road around the Dallas Motor Speedway, five miles per loop.  The agenda was the same as last week: 5k time trial, 10k time trial starting a half hour after the 5k, and a 20k road race starting a half hour after the 10k finished.  And like last week, I had on shorts and tights, base layer under the skin suit, arm warmers.  I did my warm-up lap with my fleece pullover.
     There were seven competitors signed up for my age group.  Only three of us showed up to race.  Well, I'm there to ride hard and let the medals fall where they may.  Racing commenced at 9am with the younger guys going first, at thirty second intervals.  My time was 9:20.  I wandered by the start line about 9:10 only to find there had been a mix-up resulting in no one being at the finish line.  They quickly got that sorted out, but that pushed everything back about a half hour.  I went back to sit in the car.  Who would have thought 60 degrees could be so cold.
     For the most part, time trials are pretty boring, in that you pedal has hard as you can until the finish line.  Last week I had difficulties when I started in the small chain ring and couldn't get the derailleur to shift to the big ring in a timely fashion.  This week I started in the big ring, just a few cogs higher.  The wind was significant, especially for me who has real difficulties in it.  For this course, we started into the wind, sometimes on my shoulder and a short space from the left side.  But about half-way the road turned, putting the wind at our backs.  Even up hill (more precisely, an incline) I was moving around 24 mph.  Then the downhill I hit 29 mph and should have pushed harder.  I think I stopped at the 12 cog and didn't drop to the 11 (after correcting all the troubles with that).  Dang!  My time of an estimated 8:05 (official times not yet posted) garnered me a silver medal, but more importantly was in the neighborhood of my times from several years ago.  Of course, the wind played a big factor.
     The wait for the start of the 10k had my body cooling down, as I sat in the car protecting myself from the weather and refueling with Clif bar, Nuun, and pickle juice.  About fifteen minutes before my start time, I cycled down to the start line about a quarter-mile away.  The wind had picked up and temperature dropped a few degrees.  Everyone was shivering.  I contemplated what I could do and had a eureka moment: put my rain jacket under the skin suit.  Back to the car to implement.  That also included taking off the arm warmers and putting them back on over the rain jacket sleeves.  Who knew, three layers on my chest in only 58 degrees.  But I stayed comfortably warm and not over-heated.
     The 10k course consisted of a full loop plus the requisite mile and a third.  But the fly in this ointment was the second half of the course.  I breezed through the first 5k, although top speed of only 28 mph, and continued on until a slight curve now put me into a severe cross-wind.  My deep dish Zipps had me concentrating on keeping a straight line.  Another curve to the right and the road turned up (2%).  About a half mile into a headwind.  It lessened somewhat, to where I would call it flat, but the Garmin vacillated between 1 and 2% to the finish.    Again, we have to wait for the official time, but I suspect my gold performance was within a second or two of the silver.  In fact, I was berating myself for not pushing harder after turning around at the finish line and seeing how close my competitor was.
     I noodled back to the car, now about two miles away.  Once there I switched front wheels on the road bike, going with the Zipp 404, and put the TT bike in the car, then myself.  Another wait.
     The weather looked ominous, but the forecast continued to show 3 pm.  Our start time of 1pm should get us done, with medal ceremonies before 3.  With seniors, you generally have a natural selection between age groups, so rather than each 5-year category starting separately, this time it was guys under 65 and those over.  I think the ladies were all one group.  This puts a premium on staying in the peloton as long as possible.  I did this successfully last week.
     Since we started into the wind, the young guys (65-69) held back some, so I picked a nice broad shoulder to hide behind, and whizzed through the first few miles.  The pace picked up with the wind at our backs and I was over 30 mph before hitting the crosswind.  Ah, wasn't thinking.  The prime position I had on the right side of the road left me without shelter with the crosswind from the right.  I immediately realized the problem but wasn't quick enough to correct it.  In the blink of an eye, a gap opened and I couldn't get it back.  Alone, alone, all, all, alone.  Ten yards, twenty yards, fifty yards.  Regular readers know I only do road races for the training, even though I occasionally have a decent result.  This was good training, as my quads this morning can attest.  So I finished last in my age group (but not last overall), but that still got me a bronze medal.  I take my medal count tongue-in-cheek, but still, I was faster than all those who don't show up to race.  Racing for me is just another form of exercise, another way to stay healthy.
     Dean had the podiums ready for the ceremonies.  With the weather deteriorating and the wind picking up, they moved all the remaining racers and the medal table into a canopy with sides.  No podiums, very few pictures, just announcing the winners and handing them the medals.
  Truly, I thought I won the 5k and came in second in the 10k, but it was announced the other way around.  In any case, after receiving the bronze I headed for the car at 3 pm.  Just as the sprinkles started.  A quick potty stop and a three hour drive home in the rain.  Three weeks before the next race: Senior Games State Finals in San Antonio.  Hopefully I'll find some more form by then.

Tuesday, February 28, 2017


     But first, an update on my cassette problem, now solved.  There was nothing wrong with my 11 tooth cog.  It seems that in shifting cassettes back and forth, I managed to switch the Dura Ace lock ring from the CS 7900,  Yes, this fits a ten-cog cassette but with a 12 tooth cog.  For the 11 tooth you need a little more space for the chain to engage.  Thanks to Paul at Bicycle Sport Shop for sleuthing this out.  For the flat course in College Station, I wasn't even close to needing it, however it will come into play shortly.
     After last year's poor showing, I worked real hard on improving in the off-season.  Actually, I intended to work hard but coming into February, my training had been sporadic, with nothing long.  Then came the six-hour two-man "race" at Pace Bend.  I was very pleased with my endurance, not so much with the speed.  I put long distance on the shelf for a while and worked on cadence and repeats.  Also, every year except last year I went to spin class once a week.  This year I'm back to being a regular.
     I didn't bring enough cold-weather gear.  Mid-40's with a slight north-east wind.  That's in-your-face for the 5k and back-left-shoulder for the finish of the 10k.  I had tights and arm warmers plus a base layer.  I had a wind breaker.  I needed my heavy bike jacket.  The Redskin pullover would have to do until race time.  My warm-up in College Station is the same: ride the 10k course, which is one lap with four right turns and a slight uphill toward the finish.  The 5k runs south-to-north, point-to-point.  About half way through I realized my body was quite comfortable with the temperature and the wind not so bad.  I guesstimated twenty-two minutes to get back to the car; it took twenty-five minutes forty-eight seconds.  I took that as an omen (but after getting home and checking last year, it was two seconds faster).
     There is no drama with this race.  It runs quite smoothly, everyone doing their job.  I get a little antsy before a race, and usually forget something.  For the 5k, I was ready early and rode the mile or so to the start line and twiddled for about fifteen minutes.  I figured out which gear to start in, and reviewed my strategy: high cadence for the first half, and more gears for the second (it has downhills).  This worked to my advantage, in that for the first time ever, there was an "oopsy" and the finish line was set up at 1.77 miles rather than 3.1.  A really short race.  As it turned out, my time was good enough for first place.  Last year Dean beat me.  Regular readers know that Dean and I have been competing since 2004, and team up for team time trials, either two-man or three-man.  We came in second in 2009, the last time we didn't come in first.
     Things happen, we got over it and prepared for the 10k.  By the way, for the races I divested myself of the pullover and the wind jacket and had tight clothes to cheat the wind.  I was fairly sure I would come in first.  For whatever reason, I changed my start-strategy and went with the small chain ring and mid-range cog.  With a slight wind at my back, I figured to bring it up to speed quicker that way.  Should have known better than to trust that shift.  I accelerated quickly and pulled the lever.  Nothing happened.  More pull, more nothing.  Pook, ding-fu!!  Flashing in my head was me doing the whole thing cross-chaining in the small cogs.  I moved down a gear and the front derailleur had pity on me.  I concentrated on cadence into the right-shoulder wind, a right turn and some downhill into the wind, then finally some relief on the last right turn and a favorable wind.  I surprised myself how low in the cogs I was going.  Even going up a grade I held a decent gear, and still had a little oomph at the end.  I'm still waiting for the official times, but my best guess is, even finishing first, I'm about fifteen seconds slower than last year.

     We had about an hour before the start of the 20k road race.  Usually I skip the 20k and do the 40k, figuring my competitors will have tired their legs.  But with my lack of distance training, this year I decided to do the 20k.  I switched out my front wheel, going with the Zipp 404 from the time trial bike.  In the past I would also change the back wheel, but not this year.
     There weren't many competitors doing the road race, so it was divided into 64-and-under and 65-and-over for the start.  We stayed in our 5-year categories, but it was just me and Dean in the 75-79 group.  Since we started in 2004 I've never beaten Dean.  I've won two road races, one at State, but in those Dean wasn't there.  Mostly I finish last or at least not close to the winner.  It's still fun.  Anyway, when going with the faster young guys (and gal), my only priority was not to get dropped early.  Therefore I expended a lot of energy finding a wheel (most of the time my other team time trial partner Tom) and staying in the draft.  This is twice the 10k loop, and all went according to plan.  That is, the young guys didn't get serious until a couple miles from the end, so I stayed fourth or fifth wheel for the first loop.  Starting the second lap a gap opened and before I could come around and close it, someone else did.  We were still together, but now the four older folks were in the back, and I was last, resigned to my fate.
     On the back side, into the wind, the leaders tried some leg-breakers.  That worked out well for me, in that I needed the breather.  The last right turn and I started gearing down, knowing the acceleration was about to come.  It did, but not as devastating as I expected.  We were still hanging together.  About a half mile from the end is an incline where I thought I'd be waving good-bye.  Well, the young guys were gone, but us four were together.  It would come down to a sprint, slightly uphill.  Since I was in the back, I should have been first to jump.  Because of my past experiences of poor finishes, I waited until everyone else jumped.  However, I had time to get into a good, low gear, so when I ramped up the cadence, I found myself passing Dean and Deb (national champion in Cleveland, four races, four gold).  The one in front (Gerry) wasn't in our age group, so I managed my third gold in a road race.
     I can't say enough good about Brazos Valley and the College Station Parks and Rec Department.  They are easy to work with, have dedicated volunteers, and a good race course. The 5k hiccup was disappointing, but I didn't detect any rancor from the racers.  Things happen, get over it.

Thursday, February 9, 2017


     My previous post described the switching I did to get my road bike (Roark) ready to race.  Well, after the race I needed to reverse actions to get things back to normal.  In my first book,  Bicycle Journeys with Jerry, I opine that I'm a mechanical klutz and other than keeping the chain lubricated, leave maintenance to the mechanics at Bicycle Sport Shop.  I've progressed since then, but still require help when things get technical.
     It seemed straightforward, take off the two cassettes and put them back on to their regular wheels.  I used the Park chain whip without a problem removed the cassette from the Zipp and cleaned the cogs before remounting them on the Rolf wheels.  The time trial cogs, mounted on the Rolf wheels as an emergency back-up, came off-and-on in one smooth action.  I was rather happy at how easy it was.
      I put the Roark on the rack, spun the cranks and ran the chain up and down the cogs.  Smooth.  Ready to roll.  I put the Felt on the rack, spun the cranks, smooth.  Until I got to the 12 tooth cog (smallest).  Clack, clack, clack.  Dang!  For the next twenty minutes I went over everything.  I saw that the chain rubbed the front derailleur but couldn't understand why that would be since I touched nothing other than installing the wheel back on the bike.  Naturally, I took the wheel off and made sure I hadn't missed a spacer on added one.  All was good with the shifting until I got to the small cog.  Time to go to the experts.
     They are always so helpful and solicitous when I walk in pushing my Felt (they are when I bring in my Roark, too).  I explained the mysterious clacking and was assured they'd be back in a minute with the explanation.  Several minutes went by.  I needed a new bottle of chain lubricant, so purchased that and took it to the car and came back and waited some more.  It took quite a while, but they sleuthed until finding the answer: the cog was bent (out of alignment).   Pook, ding fu!  They also did a little adjusting, so that shifting remained smooth.
     Back home, I removed the wheel, took my magnifying glass and closely examined the cog.  I could see nothing wrong or out of the ordinary.  I put the wheel on the Roark, and got the same clacking result.  It's not that I distrusted the diagnosis, I just wanted to see what I'd missed.  I'm guessing I must have hit it somehow when putting it back on the bike.  Bah! So now I need a new 12 tooth Dura Ace cog.  I sure as heck don't want to purchase a whole new cogset.  I have several options, including using the Ultegra set on the Roark.  But races are just around the corner and I need to make up my mind.

Sunday, February 5, 2017

PACE BEND 6-12-24

     First, my hat's off to the twelve and twenty-four hour riders, and their crew.  Cold and drizzle is no fun.  Same to the six hour solo riders.
     Continuing from the previous post, since I decided to switch to the road bike, several changes had to be made.  While I really like my bomb-proof, fifteen year-old Rolf Vector Pros, there is no denying the Zipps roll faster.  So, I switched wheels.  But, if I wanted to stay in the big ring (more on that shortly), I had to also switch my 11-32 cogset to the Zipps.  I lubed the chain but didn't bother cleaning the bike since it was going to get filthy anyhow.  And, I went with Continental 4000's rather than racing tires.  So my bike was ready.
     Next, clothing.  I packed all my rain gear: booties, helmet cover, pants, jacket.  Given the forecast, I only expected to wear the jacket, but better safe than sorry.  I packed four kit changes, four pair of socks, tights, four shirts for base layers, one of which actually was a base layer garment.  Clif bars and a tube of Nuun, a gallon of water, one water bottle.  Two of my kits were skin suits, two regular jerseys.  I was hoping for maybe a dry lap, didn't happen.  I was prepared for riding, not prepared for waiting.  Angela brought her Snuggie.  I wished I had one to bring.
     On to the race itself.  We're talking fifty degrees and more or less racing in a cloud.  The road was wet, sometimes more wet than others, with sometimes drizzle messing with your glasses, sometimes not.  A light wind, but you could tell when it was in your face.  Lots of rollers, a couple of decent downhills.  Jim and I decided we would do two laps then hand off.  A lap was 6.12 (or .21 whatever), so we were looking at more or less twenty minutes for Jim and twenty-two minutes for me.  I started.
     To repeat, we were in it for fun and exercise, not that we had any expectations of placing well.  There were folks who were really serious about their racing.  That being said, I intended to give it my best.  That didn't happen (body, yes, bike no).  I knew last year that my shifters were beginning to wear out.  The left one (front chain ring) sometimes goes walkabout when I hit it.  Multiple clicks and cajoling might finally get it to switch.  This is all well and good on a recreation ride, not so much when racing.  That is why I left it in the big ring.  Well, maybe it was the cold and damp, but the right one started acting up.
     The start of the race tilts down then a big decent.  I brought the cadence up to speed and clicked for the next gear.  Nothing happened.  Four clicks later it finally moved, but by then I needed three more gears.  A whole bunch of clicking and swearing and I got it down, but by then everybody had moved away.  And because this is a rolling section, I needed some more clicks to bring it back up the cassette.  Then down, then up.  Bah!  Eventually, it started working right about 90% of the time.  Even with the shifting difficulties, I managed the first lap in twenty-one minutes.  And the second one, so I handed off to Jim after forty-two minutes.
     I waited around with a pullover, getting chilled, for his first lap, but then went to the car and changed my base layer to a dry one.  This was more of a chore than anticipated.  I made a big mistake in choosing my old skin suit to start the race.  It is one piece, with long sleeves.  To change the base layer, I needed to wriggle out of the upper part.  That accomplished, it was back to the pit to await my second section.  An aside, being old and cold means an over-active bladder.  Going in the skin suit was quite a chore.
     Jim was right on time, I was not.  I thought I was ready but had forgotten to take off my clip covers.  We lost maybe a minute, not that it mattered.  I thought my second section went faster than the first, but alas, I lost fifty-three seconds for the two loops.  This time I didn't wait for the cold to set in, but took a change of clothes to the car.  Picture this: sitting in the passenger seat, divesting a jacket, sweat shirt, rain jacket, then putting on a dry base layer and jersey, then removing the tights and replacing the shorts.  Fortunately the parking area was devoid of people.  I delayed putting on the rain jacket since it was wet inside and out.  Anyhow, I missed cheering Jim on for his second lap.
     He was a model of consistency.  I thought my third go around had more wind and a tad heavier drizzle.  In any case, I lost another minute.  I was protecting my protesting hamstrings.  Interesting enough, even given the cold and wet, I wasn't uncomfortable on the bike.  I certainly didn't get overheated.  I spent more minutes out of the aero bars on this go around, and my cadence slowed a bit.
     Once again I changed out the base layer, but this time it was quite easy.  I spent more time in the car with the engine running and heater blowing, and again missed Jim on his first lap.  The ladies, Annette and Angela, decided early on that they would alternate laps, thus not waiting the extra twenty minutes getting chilled.  I think my body needed the extra rest to recover.  Be that as it may, I dreaded what it would do on the forth foray.
     The hamstrings did not revolt, and I made it around, although losing another forty seconds.  Still, I originally figured forty-five minutes for the two laps, and my slowest was under that.  I packed up while Jim finished up, but managed to cheer him on to the second lap.  Done.
     I was more than done.  The race finished at 6:00 pm and awards were to be given out at 7:00 pm.  Refreshments were available, and a food truck.  I didn't think my body could handle hanging out for an hour, then the awards, then the seventy-five minute drive home in the dark and drizzle.  With apologies, I headed home.
     I slept well, but I need to spend today loosening up all the very tight areas which were abused yesterday.  All the knuckles on my hands are swollen. This afternoon I'll get my two bikes back to normal.  Maybe tomorrow I'll be back riding.

Thursday, February 2, 2017


     At the Bicycle Sport Shop club kickoff party the other night several of us were discussing the upcoming Pace Bend 6-12-24 race.  I was whining about the change of venue, in that I'd planned to ride my TT bike, but would now switch to the road bike in view of the terrain and possible rain.  I then remarked that in the seven years of racing time trials on this bike, it had never (ever) been wet.  I have never washed it, only a damp cloth on occasion to remove the dust.  Raised eyebrows.  True.  If it is wet out, I train on the road bike and aero bars.  I've been lucky in that actual races were dry (except one that I did on the road bike).
     I truly love my TT bike.  Jack (of Jack and Adams) spent a whole lot of time getting me fitted just right, and I can spend fifty-five minutes in an hour in the aero position.  It is a Felt B2 Pro, with Dura Ace and Zipp 404 and 808 wheels.  I became a minute faster overnight (See my March 23, 2009 post).
     After typing the last sentence I looked up my time trial results with this bike.  I've raced 51 times in Texas and podium'd 49 of them.  At Senior Games Nationals I placed 13th and 18th, but first from Texas.  I admit that most of the races had thin fields, and were age-grouped, so I don't get too chuffed up about it.  Besides, it's the bike that makes the difference.

Wednesday, February 1, 2017


     For starters, for me it isn't a race at all, just an opportunity to ride faster than normal.  But, let's start at the beginning.  Originally this six-hour race (there are also twelve and twenty-four simultaneously) was to be held at The Driveway.  I've never ridden it, just cheered the BSS racers and others, on Thursday evenings.  This was a perfect opportunity to experience the 1+mile course with little elevation on my TT bike, a much needed training ride in advance of my first actual race at the end of February.  Teamed up with Jim Hungerford, I anticipated six half-hour sections.
     Just like in real life, sometimes there are hurdles to overcome.  Due to construction delays, The Driveway would not be available and the venue was changed to Pace Bend Park.  Pook, Ding-fu!!  I've "raced" twice at Pace Bend and have also done a few practice rides.  There are no fond memories.
     Several years ago, like maybe ten, when I felt much stronger and in better shape, I thought I'd do the Walburg/Pace Bend weekend.  Walburg was a tough ride.  For Pace Bend, while I felt good warming up, my legs lasted about half a lap and I dnf'd in a hurry.  The next year, having learned my lesson, I skipped Walburg and toe'd the line full of vim and vigor. My plan was to be mid-pack, but somehow I mis-placed the start line.  Not by a lot, maybe twenty yards.  Once I realized the error, I moved up, but now at the back.  I was ready.  Too ready.  I botched the clip-in, needing two pedal strokes to get up and running.  That's all it took.  The pack was full gas from the get-go and I could never close the gap.  In my defense, these guys were ten years younger than me and I had no illusions of hanging with them for more than half the race anyhow.  I didn't finish last, but did the whole race more or less alone.
     From the start, Jim and I were just in it for the fun, so that hasn't changed.  Rather than passing the start/finish line every five or six minutes, it will be more like twenty to twenty-three.  We figure two loops before handing off, so something like four sections each.  Rather than my TT bike, I'll be on the road bike with aero bars, regular helmet.  Rain is forecast, but with luck will be done by the time we start.  If not, I'll have my rain gear.
     Check back next week to see how we fared.

Thursday, January 19, 2017


     OK, I'm calling this desire to ride more a New Year's Resolution but it actually it just happens to be how things fall into place.  We start with Senior Games Nationals in June.  I skipped the ones in 2015 and was 12th and 17th in 2013.  I'm hoping to do better this year.  In order to do better, I need to race more (reality check: no where close to top eight).  Therefore the early months have me doing more time trials.
     The first scheduled race is late February, but Dame Fortune has inspired the good folks at The Driveway to host a 24 hour race Feb 4th.  They also offer 12 hour solo and team and 6 hour solo and 2 person team.  I intended to do the six hour solo but my friend Jim asked me to partner with him.  Serendipity.  Now I can do six 30 minute time trials (which I haven't broached to Jim yet).  Today I got on my time trial bike for the first time since last June.  Legs were good, my neck is killing me.
     As things turned out, I have two races in February, one in March, then the Senior Games State Finals the second week of April, USAC State Finals the third week of May, and then Nationals the first week in June.  If that isn't enough, I can go down to Castroville once a month.
     My good friends at VeloView Bike Tours have a gravel grinder in Arkansas right after I get home from Nationals.  Regular readers know that Arkansas is on my to-do list for 2017 and I was the first person signed up for this.  Right after returning home from Arkansas we have our annual get-together in the North Georgia Mountains (and yes, I take my bike).
     There are other local bike rides happening, so the first half of the year is full.  Last year I skipped the USAC State Road Race Championships and Tour de Gruene in the Fall.  They are back on the agenda this year.
     Every year my goal is 8,000 miles.  Every year I fall short.  Doesn't keep me from setting it.  I know if I do 800 miles per month, my speed and stamina are where they should be (January and December are down times).