Snow afternoon. Like many people in Boston on Friday we were told to go home early due to the impending snow storm that dumped as much as an inch of snow an hour on New England.
I headed home feeling confident that the Schwalbe Marathon Winter (26x1.75) studded tires I had put on my bike would keep me upright despite the less-than-stellar road conditions. I was soon deprived of this delusional thought and although I did remain upright I also discovered the limitations of a wide road tire on compressed snow. Tire tracks made by cars in fresh snow create a rather slippery mess for biking. I now know what people mean when they say that a skinny road tire can often be better than a mountain bike tire at handling snow. The thought being that a skinny tire can cut through the snow to the asphalt beneath. Bike paths were especially fun as the snow on them was virtually untouched and made for some steady, stable, quicker then you would think, and quiet riding. That being said I found that on virgin snow, ice, slush, or really anything other than the compressed snow left by cars the tires hooked up fine and have kept me commuting in weather I wouldn't have dared ride in last year.
I'm beginning to think that a more aggressive knobby studded tire would be good for that first fresh snow, but of course these would be less than ideal for the day to day commute. Which makes me think that a cyclocross or similar type of bike with narrower 700c studded tires would be better suited to commuting in New England with it's unpredictable weather. The narrower 700c tire might cut through that compacted snow a bit better and would likely perform better on slushy, wet or even cold dry days. Research to follow!
Monday, December 22, 2008
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Recent acquisitions.
A Bike Friday Season Tikit. This thing is pretty damn cool. Here's a nifty video:
Now I don't have the super super fast folding style like that one as it was a $250 option that increased the complexity of an already complex little piece of machinery. So I opted for the so much slower 15-20 second fold *cry* But it's still damn cool.
Has an 8 speed internally geared hub (minimal maintenance) and I can take it on the T or Commuter rail at any time or throw it into even the smallest of trunks. Bad ass for such a dorky looking thing. It's fun, I like it, kind of a lot.
Winter Commuter
So I've had this thing for quite a while now picked it up sometime around last winter but never quite got around to setting it up. I have finally gotten the parts together and finished putting it together last night. None to soon as we got our first, rai... sn... sle... crap storm last night/today in Boston.
I've a 2006 Specialized Rockhopper with disc brakes (discs are key for ucky weather for a variety of reasons) a set of Schwalbe (I like saying Schwalbe) Marathon Winter studded tires, and a pair of basic plastic Planet Bike fenders. I decided to change out the suspension fork for a rigid fork and lucked out in that Bikes Not Bombs had a disc brake compatible, suspension corrected fork with rack mounts (which ended up being key as the disc brake caliper got in the way of the fender stays.) I rode it in to work today it was way fun and way confidence inspiring. I'm hoping I still feel this way on longer commutes.
Now I don't have the super super fast folding style like that one as it was a $250 option that increased the complexity of an already complex little piece of machinery. So I opted for the so much slower 15-20 second fold *cry* But it's still damn cool.
Has an 8 speed internally geared hub (minimal maintenance) and I can take it on the T or Commuter rail at any time or throw it into even the smallest of trunks. Bad ass for such a dorky looking thing. It's fun, I like it, kind of a lot.
Winter Commuter
So I've had this thing for quite a while now picked it up sometime around last winter but never quite got around to setting it up. I have finally gotten the parts together and finished putting it together last night. None to soon as we got our first, rai... sn... sle... crap storm last night/today in Boston.
I've a 2006 Specialized Rockhopper with disc brakes (discs are key for ucky weather for a variety of reasons) a set of Schwalbe (I like saying Schwalbe) Marathon Winter studded tires, and a pair of basic plastic Planet Bike fenders. I decided to change out the suspension fork for a rigid fork and lucked out in that Bikes Not Bombs had a disc brake compatible, suspension corrected fork with rack mounts (which ended up being key as the disc brake caliper got in the way of the fender stays.) I rode it in to work today it was way fun and way confidence inspiring. I'm hoping I still feel this way on longer commutes.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
In other news...
I'm moving, soonish. Of course since this is new construction this means that I've been three weeks away from moving since mid-August.
In preparation I've acquired a couple of fun toys. Namely a longer distance winter commuter. I scoured craigslist and ebay until I found something really suitable. Granted I spent a bit more than maybe I should have but I picked up a 2006 Specialized Rockhopper disc. It's a solid bike and after a few modifications it should be an excellent winter bike. I really wanted the disc brakes for their better wet and icy weather performance I also would like to avoid chewing through about a set of rims a season via New England road grit.
I've taken off the suspension fork and replaced it with a rigid fork, installed some Schwalbe Marathon winter tires (seemed like the best option for Boston commuting tires) and a set of basic planet bike fenders. The fenders required some modification, mainly some scalloping to allow the fender to fit up between the fork blades enough to allow the hardware to reach the mounting hole in the fork crown. And of course this weakened the fender enough that I needed to re-inforce it with a piece of metal.
Also there was some creative bending needed on the fender stays to route them around the disc brake calipers. I tried to do this as elegantly as possible. Photos forthcoming!
In preparation I've acquired a couple of fun toys. Namely a longer distance winter commuter. I scoured craigslist and ebay until I found something really suitable. Granted I spent a bit more than maybe I should have but I picked up a 2006 Specialized Rockhopper disc. It's a solid bike and after a few modifications it should be an excellent winter bike. I really wanted the disc brakes for their better wet and icy weather performance I also would like to avoid chewing through about a set of rims a season via New England road grit.
I've taken off the suspension fork and replaced it with a rigid fork, installed some Schwalbe Marathon winter tires (seemed like the best option for Boston commuting tires) and a set of basic planet bike fenders. The fenders required some modification, mainly some scalloping to allow the fender to fit up between the fork blades enough to allow the hardware to reach the mounting hole in the fork crown. And of course this weakened the fender enough that I needed to re-inforce it with a piece of metal.
Also there was some creative bending needed on the fender stays to route them around the disc brake calipers. I tried to do this as elegantly as possible. Photos forthcoming!
Reminder to self...
do not place your face in the path of potentially fast moving pliers.
No big harm done, just a small cut below my right eye and a slight bruise. Looks like I took a not too hard shot to the face.
No big harm done, just a small cut below my right eye and a slight bruise. Looks like I took a not too hard shot to the face.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
D2R2, my first century! Crazy!
On Saturday I completed my first century in Deerfield, Massachusetts at the D2R2, a ride that is notorious for its difficulty in the Northeast. I started the ride with one goal: to finish (hopefully before dark and more hopefully before 12 hours).
The start was at 6 AM for the 112 mile/170K "long ride." Stage one was 35.9 miles and 5750' total climbing. According to the cue sheet: "This section is hard, but it is just a warm-up. Pace yourself accordingly."
I drove from my nearby friend’s house (thanks again guys) to the cornfield where the farm festival was to be held later that day. It was a cool morning and the sun had not yet risen.
The cornfield was a surreal scene of sleepy bicyclists wandering around in Spandex, stumbling towards the complimentary coffee with a contradictory but undeniable sense of anticipation for the ride ahead.
The mist in the valley was thick enough that I felt it upon breathing. On one of the first climbs there was a paddock, covered in mist, with two ghostly horses huddled against the cool damp air. They glanced at the pack of riders with an air of curiosity as we passed.
Right off the start, I met a nice fellow and we chatted amiably for a bit. He was definitely the faster rider though and quickly disappeared into the fog during the first few climbs.
Even though I wasn't trying to keep up with anyone, I was foolish, didn't heed the advice of the cue sheet, and was initially pushing a bit too hard. I was so caught up in the scenery and the experience that I wasn't eating or hydrating enough either. Because of this, by mile 40 my legs were starting to cramp up a bit. I was getting dropped on the climbs, but bombing the twisty dirt road descents—so much fun! Since I was already having some problems I took a good amount of time at the first rest stop to eat, drink and recover a bit.
Then began Stage 2, during which I took breaks at the top of climbs to eat and drink. I figured this would give my body time during the relative rest of the descents to get sustenance and hydration to muscles before the next climb. I moderated my efforts on the climbs as much as possible and eventually the cramping subsided, unless I was on a really steep and or long climb.
The next 25-30 miles were a series of beautiful woods and dirt roads. One road could only be loosely defined as such—the term "cow path" comes to mind—although the cue sheet mentioned a couple of "jeep tracks"—it must have been one of those. I quickly found that one of this ride’s great challenges was the varying terrain, everything from newly paved roads to single lane dirt roads to effectively ¾-lane dirt roads. Some of these were barely maintained if they were maintained at all; they more closely resembled wide, Northeastern woods singletrack than they did roads. My bike was well suited to this although my real concern wasn't the bike, it was the engine!
Near the end of Stage 2 were some awesome rollers along Green River in Vermont. I kept up a good clip on this section and was having a lot of fun. I took some time on the upwards sections of these rollers to look somewhere other than down the road in front of me. The sun was shining through leaves and making the dirt road take on a late summer hue.
The high-speed fun came to a stop at a covered bridge marking the just-over-half-way point and the lunch stop. I got to talking with a few people, took some time to eat and ended up taking too long a break, dropping me at the back of the 170K pack. Somehow the next 15 miles went quickly despite the long climb immediately after lunch (I was glad in retrospect that I took some time to digest my food.) I hadn't been looking at my distance on my cyclometer because I didn't want to get discouraged—I was mainly trying to maintain a 10-11 mph average. But curiosity got the best of me so I took a look and saw that I was at mile 80, five miles longer than my longest ride to date which was last weekend! Surely it would all be downhill from here. HA!
Despite the cramping early on and the long, hard climbs I was genuinely having fun until the real pain at mile 90 on Patten Hill, which should be notorious if it isn't. This was a brutal climb: long, steep and deceptive, looking like it was over two or three times before the actual crest of the hill, and even then the crest was not a sharp break, but a gradual hump that lessened out a simple, steady incline until it mercifully started going down the other side of the hill. Even before this gradual hump I was starting to fade, my legs were no longer cramping but my arms and legs started to become somewhat defiant, or at least not as attentive to what I was asking of them. I realized that if I didn't stop riding and walk for a bit I would likely not make it the rest of the way up that climb. I had to walk up approximately the last quarter of the hill.
Not long after this I stumbled via bicycle into the last rest stop before the finish. I arrived late and realized at the time that I would not likely make the qualifying time of 12 hours. But the volunteers stayed on until the last of the stragglers wandered through and kept us fed and hydrated. I had some nice conversation and realized at this point that I really was going to finish the ride! That and I was a mere 4 miles from completing my first century! I set off, simply intent on grinding out the last 14 miles. I had, as one of the volunteers said, "passed the crux of it," the crux being the hill I had just scaled.
The hill descended into a series of rollers and a few short climbs and then a rather speedy decent to a T-intersection. Near the bottom, I looked down to realize I was at 99.6 miles! I kept glancing down and just at the intersection at the bottom of the descent the magic 100 came up! I yelled "YEAH!" to no one but myself (I hope).
The most memorable part of the ride after that was the second, wide singletrack road, even narrower and more trail-like than the first. They do define the word "road" very loosely in some areas.
A short paved climb and then things started going downhill, literally, and for the best. There was a marker flag somewhere I didn't expect it to be. I checked my cue sheet and realized I was two turns and a little under two miles from the finish: the distance of my daily commute, but without the traffic, lights, pedestrians or other impediments.
The last two miles were surprisingly flat, although given the nature of the rest of the course I think this was more a product of necessity than design. I soon rounded the final turn and saw the tents set up around the Farm Festival that marked the end of the ride. I rolled up to the tent where the final checkpoint was and turned in my card... I was done.
Surprisingly I could still walk (somehow I didn't really expect to be able to after all this.) I took my meal ticket and downed a large and much needed meal, as well a nice cold beer. The food was really so-so but it tasted five-star. I spoke with many people who congratulated me upon hearing that I completed the "Long Course." Upon hearing that this was my first century, they informed me that I'd find most others easy, shook my hand, and sometimes told me I was crazy.
All in all, the weather was amazing 85 degrees, and low humidity, but the heat wasn't too noticeable as the ride was mostly in the shade. The scenery and views were amazing. I grew up a few miles south of where this ride took place and I miss it very much. New England farm country at its bucolic best: dairy farms, sheep, and horses, fields, farmers, trees, covered bridges, and alleys of maple trees.
Surprisingly, I felt quite good although quite tired after the ride. My knees were a bit sore, although they stopped hurting while I road to work this morning—very weird, very unexpected, very welcome.
One goal down...now I need a new one! I may even do this again next year!
Stats:
8932 calories
109 miles (according to computer 112 according to ride organizers)
11,300 feet of climbing (according to the organizers)
Average speed 10.5 MPH
Max speed 40 MPH
Ride time 10:24
Total time 12:36
The start was at 6 AM for the 112 mile/170K "long ride." Stage one was 35.9 miles and 5750' total climbing. According to the cue sheet: "This section is hard, but it is just a warm-up. Pace yourself accordingly."
I drove from my nearby friend’s house (thanks again guys) to the cornfield where the farm festival was to be held later that day. It was a cool morning and the sun had not yet risen.
The cornfield was a surreal scene of sleepy bicyclists wandering around in Spandex, stumbling towards the complimentary coffee with a contradictory but undeniable sense of anticipation for the ride ahead.
The mist in the valley was thick enough that I felt it upon breathing. On one of the first climbs there was a paddock, covered in mist, with two ghostly horses huddled against the cool damp air. They glanced at the pack of riders with an air of curiosity as we passed.
Right off the start, I met a nice fellow and we chatted amiably for a bit. He was definitely the faster rider though and quickly disappeared into the fog during the first few climbs.
Even though I wasn't trying to keep up with anyone, I was foolish, didn't heed the advice of the cue sheet, and was initially pushing a bit too hard. I was so caught up in the scenery and the experience that I wasn't eating or hydrating enough either. Because of this, by mile 40 my legs were starting to cramp up a bit. I was getting dropped on the climbs, but bombing the twisty dirt road descents—so much fun! Since I was already having some problems I took a good amount of time at the first rest stop to eat, drink and recover a bit.
Then began Stage 2, during which I took breaks at the top of climbs to eat and drink. I figured this would give my body time during the relative rest of the descents to get sustenance and hydration to muscles before the next climb. I moderated my efforts on the climbs as much as possible and eventually the cramping subsided, unless I was on a really steep and or long climb.
The next 25-30 miles were a series of beautiful woods and dirt roads. One road could only be loosely defined as such—the term "cow path" comes to mind—although the cue sheet mentioned a couple of "jeep tracks"—it must have been one of those. I quickly found that one of this ride’s great challenges was the varying terrain, everything from newly paved roads to single lane dirt roads to effectively ¾-lane dirt roads. Some of these were barely maintained if they were maintained at all; they more closely resembled wide, Northeastern woods singletrack than they did roads. My bike was well suited to this although my real concern wasn't the bike, it was the engine!
Near the end of Stage 2 were some awesome rollers along Green River in Vermont. I kept up a good clip on this section and was having a lot of fun. I took some time on the upwards sections of these rollers to look somewhere other than down the road in front of me. The sun was shining through leaves and making the dirt road take on a late summer hue.
The high-speed fun came to a stop at a covered bridge marking the just-over-half-way point and the lunch stop. I got to talking with a few people, took some time to eat and ended up taking too long a break, dropping me at the back of the 170K pack. Somehow the next 15 miles went quickly despite the long climb immediately after lunch (I was glad in retrospect that I took some time to digest my food.) I hadn't been looking at my distance on my cyclometer because I didn't want to get discouraged—I was mainly trying to maintain a 10-11 mph average. But curiosity got the best of me so I took a look and saw that I was at mile 80, five miles longer than my longest ride to date which was last weekend! Surely it would all be downhill from here. HA!
Despite the cramping early on and the long, hard climbs I was genuinely having fun until the real pain at mile 90 on Patten Hill, which should be notorious if it isn't. This was a brutal climb: long, steep and deceptive, looking like it was over two or three times before the actual crest of the hill, and even then the crest was not a sharp break, but a gradual hump that lessened out a simple, steady incline until it mercifully started going down the other side of the hill. Even before this gradual hump I was starting to fade, my legs were no longer cramping but my arms and legs started to become somewhat defiant, or at least not as attentive to what I was asking of them. I realized that if I didn't stop riding and walk for a bit I would likely not make it the rest of the way up that climb. I had to walk up approximately the last quarter of the hill.
Not long after this I stumbled via bicycle into the last rest stop before the finish. I arrived late and realized at the time that I would not likely make the qualifying time of 12 hours. But the volunteers stayed on until the last of the stragglers wandered through and kept us fed and hydrated. I had some nice conversation and realized at this point that I really was going to finish the ride! That and I was a mere 4 miles from completing my first century! I set off, simply intent on grinding out the last 14 miles. I had, as one of the volunteers said, "passed the crux of it," the crux being the hill I had just scaled.
The hill descended into a series of rollers and a few short climbs and then a rather speedy decent to a T-intersection. Near the bottom, I looked down to realize I was at 99.6 miles! I kept glancing down and just at the intersection at the bottom of the descent the magic 100 came up! I yelled "YEAH!" to no one but myself (I hope).
The most memorable part of the ride after that was the second, wide singletrack road, even narrower and more trail-like than the first. They do define the word "road" very loosely in some areas.
A short paved climb and then things started going downhill, literally, and for the best. There was a marker flag somewhere I didn't expect it to be. I checked my cue sheet and realized I was two turns and a little under two miles from the finish: the distance of my daily commute, but without the traffic, lights, pedestrians or other impediments.
The last two miles were surprisingly flat, although given the nature of the rest of the course I think this was more a product of necessity than design. I soon rounded the final turn and saw the tents set up around the Farm Festival that marked the end of the ride. I rolled up to the tent where the final checkpoint was and turned in my card... I was done.
Surprisingly I could still walk (somehow I didn't really expect to be able to after all this.) I took my meal ticket and downed a large and much needed meal, as well a nice cold beer. The food was really so-so but it tasted five-star. I spoke with many people who congratulated me upon hearing that I completed the "Long Course." Upon hearing that this was my first century, they informed me that I'd find most others easy, shook my hand, and sometimes told me I was crazy.
All in all, the weather was amazing 85 degrees, and low humidity, but the heat wasn't too noticeable as the ride was mostly in the shade. The scenery and views were amazing. I grew up a few miles south of where this ride took place and I miss it very much. New England farm country at its bucolic best: dairy farms, sheep, and horses, fields, farmers, trees, covered bridges, and alleys of maple trees.
Surprisingly, I felt quite good although quite tired after the ride. My knees were a bit sore, although they stopped hurting while I road to work this morning—very weird, very unexpected, very welcome.
One goal down...now I need a new one! I may even do this again next year!
Stats:
8932 calories
109 miles (according to computer 112 according to ride organizers)
11,300 feet of climbing (according to the organizers)
Average speed 10.5 MPH
Max speed 40 MPH
Ride time 10:24
Total time 12:36
Friday, June 6, 2008
The Beginning
In the beginning there was a kid, and the kid had a bicycle, and that kid rode the bicycle and decided that it was good.
Isn't this how it always begins?
The complications only come later, with age, and time (or lack thereof). School, work, all these things that get in the way of what you love to do. So my first entry in this blog is going to be a reminder to myself and to anyone who reads this, take the time to do the things you love. Make it a priority. Get on your bike and ride.
Isn't this how it always begins?
The complications only come later, with age, and time (or lack thereof). School, work, all these things that get in the way of what you love to do. So my first entry in this blog is going to be a reminder to myself and to anyone who reads this, take the time to do the things you love. Make it a priority. Get on your bike and ride.
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