A Life of its Own

My bike-to-work/school commutes have ranged from about 6 to 50 miles round trip over the past 30 years.

It's a funny thing how each commute takes on a life of its own - same daily routine, same people on the streets, same roads...

My favorite bike commute, which I did for 3 years, was a 12 miler (round trip). It traveled mostly through towns and neighborhood streets with some very minor upgrades thrown in for fun. Since most of the street had lights, I rode this route year round.

Why did I love this one over the many others? Because at the end of the work day, it was a red-line, pedal to the metal 6 mile sprint home - 5 days a week. A great way to end the day for sure.

And plus, commuting the 60 miles per work week was just enough to keep my fitness on the upside for my weekend rides.

Enjoy your ride home.

The Kids Are (not) Alright

When I ride past my local High School in the morning, I'm amazed how many kids drive to school. And I'm sure most of these kids are within walking, biking and skating distance.

We need to make it cool for kids to arrive at school without a car.

We need to educate the student body so as adults they would be more open to bike to work, and not drive.

Turn the (bike) pedals and don't push the (gas) pedal.

Greater Than One (or less than zero)

"Won't you be my number 2." - Joe Jackson

For the 1st 30 years of my life, I only owned 1 bike at a time.

During the last 15 years or so, I have added a total of 4 bikes to my shed. I try to spend equal amounts of time with each bike, sort of like one of those guys who lives in UT with multiple wives.

It's fun to spread the love around, but the closeness is missing.

When you just own 1 bike, you're on it almost everyday and as a result, you develop a special bond with that bike. It's a nice feeling for sure.

Lately, I have been longing to own just 1 bike again to regain that 1-bike love that's missing from my life.

Flip Flops

Note to self: don't race a guy on a tricked out Eddy Merckx bike while wearing flip flops.

Last week I was enjoying the sun & surf in Newport, RI (nice place). I brought my old road single speed bike up with me. This bike is outfitted with some big old BMX platform pedals for everyday "need to run to the store" riding.

On my last day, I was cruising around the southern tip of the island, pedaling with my flip flops on. Then I saw Mr. Eddy Merckx bike dude.

We started to race. Surprisingly, I was going pretty fast with the flip flops. I held him off for about 15 min, but then I lost the battle. That was OK - I mean - how can a flip flop cyclist compete with a bike like that.

Now picture this: I was trying to bridge the gap and out of nowhere, both feet came off the pedals in the forward direction, all 10 toes were dragged hard against the rough pavement, both pedals dug into the backside of my calves & caused some nice punctured wounds and finally, my manhood slammed into the top tube (sort of like what Lance did into 2003 TdF).

Once again- don't race wearing flip flops.

The Joy of Single Speed

About a week or so ago, I had a single speed moment that makes the suffering all worthwhile.

I came screaming down a short, steep hill. Coasting at maximum speed, sort of like dropping in on a half-pipe with a skateboard.

I hit the flat section and spun out at 32 mph, which was more than enough speed to propel myself up the opposite hill with minimum effort.

The whole experience probably lasted about 1 full minute, but what a minute it was. It was the simple joy of single speeding at its best.

The Constant

Throughout my life, I've been obsessed with skateboarding, rock climbing, snowboarding, long-distance trail running and so on. But since the age of 5 or so, cycling has always been there for me (except for the moped years - we won't talk about that for now).

The simple act of riding bikes has and hopefully will continue to provide me with transportation, fitness, fun and competition until my body fails me.

Even though I've been at it for about 40 years now, I still look forward to my early morning rides and any excuse to run an errand by bike.

Yes I have lost speed over the years, but I still can go the distance when push comes to shove.

Growing old with the bike is a nice way to age.

I Gave It My All (Part Two)

Friday - 6:45 am

3 riders - coming up fast on my rear.

This time I play it cool.

I let the 3 rides glide pass me. The last one says to me, "Hop on." I say, "Thanks, but I'm fine."

[It's better to chase than to be chased.]

I lose visual contact, but I pedal hard to stay within striking distance.

As I head into the rollers, I see the 3 guys about 1/4 mile up the road. I decided it's time to take care of business.

I'm flying up and down the rollers on the drops - M. P. style.

I finally catch up after a stout effort; they look surprised since they thought they dropped me miles ago.

I say hi and keep on pedaling hard.

The 3 guys are chasing me like a rabbit on a greyhound track.

I'm in pain; asthma is kicking in; my stomach hurts like heck.

But I kept pushing it. I'm not giving up this time.

They catch me on the last hill & we all hit the traffic light at the same time.

We rode for a bit (really nice guys) & then said our goodbyes.

So, what's the lesson here:

ATTACK where you are the strongest & don't give up the fight.

I Gave It My All

There's a little Tour de France inside all of us.

Tuesday morning, 7:25 am

I looked behind me & there he was, about half my age, on a nice bike & wearing a full racing kit.

The next 7 miles or so are hills.

I just had a new SURLY Pacer steel fork put on my road bike yesterday, so I give it my all & go.

At one point, I was about 50 yards up on racer boy.

At the start of the first big hill, he was about 30 yards behind me.

We fight it out in the "mountains".

Racer boy finally passes me on the last hill.

He says, "Man, you were flying. Sit on my wheel." But I do a stage 16 Landis & bonk out.

I lost the stage, but it was a good fight until the end.

The late Marco Pantani would have been proud.

Somebody Saved my Life Tonight

Attached to my key ring is a 30 year old number 4 hex. A hex is a piece of passive rock climbing equipment.

Fall 1985

As I was topping out on a tough 5.8+ crack climb in Keene Valley (Adirondacks), I peeled off and headed towards the ground 75 feet below.

5 pieces of pro were placed in the crack.

Zipper - big time.

4 pieces blew out.

The 5th and last piece (that no. 4 hex) held.

My partner held a strong belay.

I bounced sideways, 2 feet from the ground. I was white as a ghost.

That no. 4 hex saved my life and is never far from me these days as my good luck charm.

Be a Bum

"Labor is honorable" - I'm all for that stuff. But at least once in your life, be a (climbing, bike, surf, skiing, etc.) bum.

I was a rock climbing bum in 1984. I spent 2 months climbing & living in Yosemite on $3/day.

In 1985, I worked minimal summer hours, which allowed my buddy & I to bike and climb almost every single day in the Adirondacks.

Needless to say, 1984 & 1985 were very good years.

So, if you can swing it, be the bum that you always wanted to be.

"The goal in life is to make enough money so that you can do the things you used to do when you had no money."

Commit to the Move

In rock climbing we say, commit to the move. It means that once you have decided to do the move / sequence, then cast off and do it without any doubts - no second guessing yourself - mentally and/or physically.

The second you start thinking about failure is usually when you blow the move and fall (hopefully, you're not soloing).

I think commit to the move also applies to cycling, especially while zipping through traffic at high speeds, riding some rough singletrack and definitively racing.

So once you have decided that you are going, then go.

It ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe
It don't matter, anyhow
An' it ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe
If you don't know by now
When your rooster crows at the break of dawn
Look out your window and I'll be gone
You're the reason I'm trav'lin' on
Don't think twice, it's all right

Bob Dylan

Yamaha

A kid on my street owned one of these bikes in the mid-1970s. It was a heavy bike for a 12 year old to pedal, but it was sure fun to ride. A pre-full suspension mt bike I guess.

Learning to Climb

"Experience beats youth any day."

Learning to climb is a lot like learning to drive a car. You think you know what you are doing, but the fact is you're clueless and dangerous.

I'm amazed I wasn't killed during my first few years of rock & ice climbing.

It wasn't like I was making stupid mistakes. My partners and I just didn't have the experience under our belts quite yet.

But we survived somehow, mostly by knowing when to back down. Sure, we didn't make it up a lot of climbs in the beginning, but learning to make objective decisions in the mountains goes a long way in saving your butt.

Like most climbers I know, the early years, though dangerous, are the best years of your life. But you don't realize that until much later in life.

Enjoy your early years, but be safe.

Johnny Cash

I love punk music from the 1970s.

People often ask - who started punk?

Iggy? MC5? Television? May be?

I say Johnny Cash.

That man was pissed off for sure.

As I was driving to school tonight, I heard a punk rock version of "Ring of Fire". I'm not sure who the band was, but it rocked.

This confirmed my belief that Mr. Cash was the founder of punk.

And plus, Johnny wore all black way before Lou Reed did.

ps: here's the link to the song by Social Distortion: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_i2ESgR0FUM

Speed & Relative Velocity

"I like to go fast, and use my brakes as little as possible." - Frank McCormack (national cx champion 1996)

I think most cyclists feel the need for speed. I do. First, there's the physical effort to get there, and once you are there, it takes work to maintain that speed.

Oh, but the joy is worth it.

However, for me, time trials (TT) are not really my bag of tricks.

You would think otherwise, right? I mean, TT is about speed.

The thing is, I like speed relative to objects.

What the heck is Roman Holiday talking about?

TT are all about the open road (most of the time); no one is really around you. So, it's difficult to get that sensation of moving fast and plus, there's not much to occupy your mind except pedal hard and keep your head down.

I like flying through tight traffic, with other bikes all around me. You see, blowing by stationary objects puts speed into perspective. You feel like you're going faster. Also, your brain is processing tons of YES/NO decisions along the way, which all adds up to the "speed blur". The same is true for flying through the woods on a mt bike.

I guess its like skiing on a narrow, tree-lined trail as opposed to skiing a big open bowl. Don't you feel faster in the trees?

In physics, this is known as "Relative Velocity". I'm not sure if it was Newton or Einstein that first described this.

In a nutshell, the velocity of a body, like it's position, must be described with reference to the origin of a coordinate system. The origin is fixed.

So, the velocity (i.e., speed) of the bike is relative to the traffic, other bikes, buildings, etc.

Either way, enjoy the rush.

Nova Scotia (New Scotland)

Years ago when index shifters on the DOWNTUBE were hot and the US $ was worth something in Canada, I & 3 buddies headed North by Northeast towards Nova Scotia. We caught the ferry in Bar Harbour, Maine & 6 hours & a few beers later we landed in Yarmouth.

During the next few days, we rode from Yarmouth to Shelburne, hung a left at Liverpool, traveled across the interior past the Kajimkujik National Park, then hung another left at Digby & rode back towards Yarmouth in a strong headwind. Once in Yarmouth, we hopped on the ferry again and steamed our way back to Maine.

When I wasn't looking at someone's rear wheel, I remember great views of the countryside & relatively quiet roads to bike on. Also, I remember meeting super friendly & easy going people along the way. And of course, there's Schooner Beer.

If you have a few free days this summer, I highly recommend a bike trip to Nova Scotia.

http://novascotia.com/en/home/default.aspx

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schooner_Lager

Don't Play it Again Sam (No Replays)

I've had many fine adventures thus far in my life - be it by bike, foot, climbing, traveling across the USA on $3/day, etc. Some of these trips are firmly engraved in my brain cells for life.

And I have gone back to repeat some of these trips in an effort to re-capture that great, initial experience. I got news for you sir, it can't be done.

Don't try to relive it. Leave it alone.

I am not sure why this is the case. But I think it's due to the fact the you are always comparing the "repeat" experience to the "initial" experience, and that in itself ruins the "repeat" trip.

As they say, "the end of one adventure is the beginning of another adventure."

Trail Running - Lake George Style

Up for a nice 20 mile or so trail run overlooking The Narrows of Lake George (ADK, NY)?

Sure you are, then check out the Tongue Mountain Range (TMR).

It's a great loop with super views of the lake. The mountains are not real tall, but lots of ups & downs.

But be careful because during the warmer months there's a good chance that you may step on a Timber Rattlesnake.

So hop in your car, drive North & enjoy the trails

p.s. - About 6 yrs ago, my buddy & I hiked this loop during one long, full-moon January night, that was fun - well sort of - until the stove died. At least there were no snakes.

http://www.naturepanoramas.com/03961112.html#top

Grab the Bull by the Horns

Aero vs. bullhorns

I know that aerobars are faster.

I've tried aerobars in the past & I just can't get used to them. It just doesn't feel right. And plus, aerobars don't look right on the bike either.

So, what's a struggling triathlete supposed to do?

Slap on a pair of narrow bullhorns & ride'em cowboy/cowgirl.

There's something special & traditional about grabbing onto bullhorns as opposed to resting your elbows on the bike. Bullhorns just want you to crank & go.

So for tri's/TT, I get low, stretched out & narrow with my DYI (flipped & clipped) bullhorns. These bars are very narrow (less than 40 cm). My buddy calls them my "goat horns".

I do OK with this setup. I'm sure a wind tunnel test would tell me to go aero, but it wouldn't be the same.

Bullhorns are classics.

May be I'm just a traditionalist (actually I am), but whenever I watch an old film clip of a rider flying on a TT course with bullhorns, I say to myself, "man, that's cool."

Grab life by the horns as they say & enjoy the ride, especially as you pass a cramped up, hunched over triathlete.

Alternatively, riding some narrow track bars on the drops may also do the trick for you.

Helmet Hair

I did not wear a helmet from age 5 to 22 years old. I only started to wear a helmet when I began to race in 1985.

I know wearing a helmet is the right thing to do, especially on the trails & in the traffic, but lately I find myself leaving the brain bucket home, at least for the short bike trips to town & back.

Remember the 1989 TdF, Greg vs. Laurent? Greg won by 8 seconds. He wore an aero helmet, which helped for sure. But who could forget Laurent flying thru Paris with his ponytail blowing in the wind behind him (note: Laurent did post the 3rd faster time)

Now that was style.

Bike Snob NYC made a good point last week:

"Helmets have pretty much killed style in road cycling anyway. Not that I have anything against helmets, mind you, but let's be honest. Cycling looked better before helmets." (http://www.belgiumkneewarmers.com/2008/02/burden-of-being-bsnyc.html)

Anyways, wear your helmet for sure, but we can dream about the good old days when your hair cut meant something in road racing.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AyvwtOQYQ-E