20 Miles

broderic on August 28, 2010

I haven’t ridden my bikes all year.

Only twice. But those 20 miles don’t count considering I used to do 600+ a year.

I had promised myself a century before I am forty. That leaves one last year. I plan to do it, but most good (read easy) century rides happen later in the fall.

Here’s a few rides that may happen again next year that I should be targeting:

Back Roads Century
Seasons Change Metric Century
Shenandoah Fall Foliage Bike Festival
Between the Waters Bike Tour
Civil War Century
Save A Limb Ride

Eventually, I’ll do my century at least before I die.

Every Beautiful Spring Day

broderic on March 27, 2010

These gorgeous days of spring mock me.

I should be on my bike, but I can’t get up for it. She’s sitting in my garage with a deflated tire. Her sister still hasn’t had her flat fixed.

And every day that is a beautiful spring day, I don’t enjoy on my bike.

Up the Longnecker Road

broderic on October 31, 2009

One thing about cycling alone that makes it difficult is that on those lonely back country roads, it gets spooky. You look over your shoulder and can imagine something or someone following you, and your cadence picks up moving you quickly away from whatever it was that had you spooked.

Now, at times I get spooked, but it is always just a figment of my imagination. I’m not one to worry to much about the spooks. They come and go, and I continue on pedaling to my goal. Yet, I can’t help but think about a situation I ran into this past summer. On this spooky of evenings, let me tell you my tale. It may give you chills.

Butler Road is a favorite of the biking community. It can connect you to many other routes throughout Baltimore County, and it’s relatively near civilization. It’s in the beautiful valleys northwest of the city.

I make my way there all the time this summer. It’s become part of my favorite biking routes. I’ve always wanted to climb the hill off of Longnecker Road in that vale. At the top is a radio tower, you can see it whenever you ride there, and it usually beckons. I’ve never been up that way, but finally, on one of my last rides, I decide to check it out.

It was on over cast summer day cool which is great for a bike ride. I go out and pass through Reisterstown Road, out to Timber Grove, which spits me out onto Dover. I bomb down the hill at 40 mph, then hang the left out onto Dover Road proper. I take the left onto Longnecker. A cloud occults the sun and it looks a little bit like rain. The wind kicks up. A head wind sucks. I put my head down and grind into the wind hoping that when I get to the base of the hill that it will shelter.

I reach the base of the hill. It’s over a creek, around a bend, and through a stone quiet vale. The road hangs a right, then sharp left into the woods before the climb starts. I’m grinding up in a low gear. Half way up I pass an old lady walking her dog. Weird. Then I make it out of the woods, but the hill kicks up. It’s next to a nice field, but the road gets steeper. I’m out of gears, so I focus on trying to get up the hill.

At the top you can see a farm. There’s a false flat so that you don’t see the crossroads. You climb up the steepest section, make it to the false flat which rises to the crossroads.

Up ahead I see another cyclist resting. He’s tuckered from the climb too.

I pull up next to him. Huffing and puffing. Sit down and swig some water from my water bottle.

“Tough.”

“I usually like this hill, it’s less steep than the backside. But I wish the club ride wouldn’t have left me behind.”

“Club ride? Where to?”

“Carroll County and back. 40 miles. I’m late and must catch up.”

Even though, I’m overheated, I feel a chill.

“I’m always trying to catch up to the group.”

“I know how you feel. I’m a slowpoke myself.” This is when I take a good look at my rest stop companion. He’s an older gentleman riding an older bike: friction shifters and really only 10 speeds. Odd. The chills.

I look back down the hill, and see another cyclist coming up. His appearance startles me. I turn to the gentleman, but he’s just muttering, “I must catch up.”

The other cyclist reaches us. My rest stop companion, asks for directions out to Butler. The cyclist doesn’t know, but continues on with his ride. He gives us a queer look as he pedals away. “Follow me, this is the usual club ride.” My companion barely acknowledges.

“Well, I’m going right. Left should get you back to the group ride.”

“Maybe I’ll follow you.”

And with that the chills come again. To be followed by this gentleman just somehow gives me the spooks something awful. I get on and pedal away, quickly.

Over the backside, the road is in terrible conditions. There’s potholes and patches, its steep, and bumpy. I’m trying to go as fast as possible without crashing. I glance back on occasion to see if he’s following. Nope. Thank, god.

I don’t know, but that encounter always creeps me out. I don’t know what happened to that guy, but it was always strange how he didn’t know where to go and to be always trying to keep up. Who was that man? And why did he give me the chills?

Let’s do this

broderic on October 23, 2009

Someday. We’re doing this. It’s the Alleghany trail from Frostburg, MD, but what’s cool is that you can get to it from the C&O. It will eventually get you to Pittsburgh for a good 350 miles of pedaling fun. Now that sounds like a good bike week. Let’s see: 60 miles a day for 6 days. All on a rail to trail. I thought the C&O sounded tough.

Yes. It is fun

broderic on July 29, 2009

Joy.

I haven’t ridden as much as I want to. It seems that I really want to share the fun with you, but since I can’t because you won’t enjoy this from the fatcyclist.

Mount Ventoux

broderic on July 25, 2009

So far, Le Tour has been slightly disappointing. It hasn’t been as exciting, because Astana has been making mince meat of the GC category. They’ve locked it down. No one else has come close, except for the Schleck brothers. They threw a wrench into the Astana train’s gears by climbing onto the podium on Wednesday, the last day in the Alps. It took the long individual time trial to dislodge the oldest, Frank, and Lance Armstrong, the old man, to show them how it’s done.

Today was the Mount Ventoux stage which would sort out the contenders from the pretenders. Usually, a mountain top finish would not be anywhere near the penultimate day of Le Tour. Usually. The GC contenders threw themselves up the slopes of the Giant of Provence. Andy Schleck showed that he was a young rider to contend with. He attacked, and attacked hoping to drag his brother back onto the podium. It did nothing. Lance Armstrong sat on their wheel all ride up not allowing them to breach the strangle lock that Astana has. The other top ten sorted themselves out keeping their places. Contador wins. Tomorrow will just be for the sprinters and the victory laps around the Champs Elysée.

And that’s why it was boring. The same things have happened as when Armstrong won his seven. The strong team goes out and locks down the GC, and the other contenders can only watch. More fireworks.

Afterwards, I went for a quick ride in the heat of the late morning. I should’ve ate breakfast, because their was not gas in my tank. Today was my own suffering on my Mount Ventoux.

These legs, they’re heavy

broderic on July 18, 2009

And so is the rest of my body. I’m 5 lbs heavier than last year and I can feel it. My average MPH is down to 14.5 mph, but I’m taking in more hills. It’s the hills that are killing me.

Today, I only road 28 miles out to Falls Road and back. Instead of the usual Park Heights climb out of the valley, I chose to stay on Garrison Forest. When you look at its average grade, their are parts of it going into the red about 8% plus, but it is only for half a mile. I hated every minute of the climb. I had to stop once past the steep. I watched some riders go down it. You can do 45 MPH on that, but up I was only going 5 MPH. I suck.

Going out, I knew this was going to be a terrible day. These legs of mine didn’t want to turn the cranks over. I also don’t think I had enough energy. Dinner last night was a long time and I didn’t really have any carbs to fuel me today. But I had to go out. 500 miles for the year is coming up. I need to get to 650 by September. Tomorrow should be the quick time practice.

See you on the road.

10 miles of flat

broderic on June 25, 2009


10 miles of flat
Originally uploaded by browsermetrics.
I haven’t been cycling in a while.

I was supposed to be at 500+ miles. I’m only reaching 350. What happened?

It’s been great weather for the past week, and I decide to take advantage of it by going on a bike ride. If it’s Wednesday, it’s distance day. That means NCR trail. I’ve been twice this year. Each time making it to a different mile marker: 11 then 15. Now I aimed for 17 which will make it about 34 miles. Not the longest I’ve gone out this year, but it has been a while for a ride.

When you go north on the NCR it starts off slightly down hill. It’s nice. About past White Hall, it levels out and around the 13 mile mark, it’s uphill. I hate it, because I slow down. I’m going slower this year by about half an mph. I don’t know why. It could be the 3 lbs I’m carrying or it could be the fact that I’m getting older and out of shape quicker. It’s just so depressing. The slower you go the longer it takes you to get there.

So distance day is always trying to gauge comfort in the saddle. I hate it.

I make it to mile marker 17 and turn around. I’m cruising down the slight decline. The I notice a weird noise. The air is slowly leaking out over a mile. I’m just short of 13 miles. I’m short of Monkton. It plain sucks. No one has a pump. And when I do find some helpful guy, my tube is toast.

I huff it at 11 mph for the last 10 miles. It sucks. I have to get it fixed. The damage: 34 miles in 3 hours. The last hour is nothing but plodding on a flat.