Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Daffodil-less Classic

The 33rd Annual Daffodil Classic was this past Sunday.

I really hoped to complete this ride with my wife Kasia, but she just returned from a month-long trip to Poland, and is suffering from the severe jet lag that only nine hours of time difference can induce. I've been there, done that, and I appreciate the discomfort. Jet lag is high on my "not fun" list.

CliftonGK1 (a friend from bikeforums.net) and I caravaned to Orting, WA and met up with EastHill (another online friend from bikeforums.net) in the parking area around 7:00am. I didn't record our starting time, but by the time we unloaded the bikes, registered, and took care of last-minute details, we probably hit the road about 8:00am.

The plan:
  • CliftonGK1 had his mind set on completing the entire century: both the 60- and 40-mile loops.
  • EastHill was under time pressure due to an appointment to deliver a bike frame to yet another bikeforums.net member, so she planned to do only the 60-mile loop.
  • Me, I planned to finish the 60-mile loop, then evaluate my condition and only start the 40-miler if I knew I could finish it. I was not hopeful.
As you can see from the profile of the 60-mile loop, the ride was not exactly flat. There were two rest stops: one at approximately 22 miles, another at 41 miles. There was a nasty climb (not steep, but long) just after the first rest stop, and another climb (even longer) before the second rest stop. Just after the second stop was an all-to-brief downhill section before beginning a 15 mile climb, following by a thrilling twisty descent into town.

At the second rest stop I ran into Tessa, a woman I met at The McClinchy Mile ride a few weeks ago. We completed the final stage together; CliftonGK1's pace was just too fast for us.

According to the elevation profile page linked above, we covered 61.2 miles and climbed a total of 3341.6 feet. I would guess there was also about 20 miles of rough chip-seal pavement, the kind that rattles your bones (and every other body part).

By the time we arrived back at the start/finish line, I hoped CliftonGK1 had given up on waiting and had started the 40-miler on his own. No such luck -- he greeted us as we rolled up with "fuel up, top off, and let's head out!"

One strawberry shortcake, two bananas, and a couple of bagels later, my energy reserves were replenished and I felt ready for another 40.

Press on regardless.

As you may have guessed, the 40-mile loop was not exactly flat, either. Two hills stand out in my mind. The first was just before the 10 mile point, a narrow road twisting up a hill near a waterfall. I'm sure the waterfall would have been beautiful if I had enough oxygen in my brain to appreciate it. I didn't. This hill would have been "not fun" if we had done only the 40-mile loop; climbing it after 70 miles was downright painful.

The other notable hill was at the 35 mile point (which was our 97 mile point). Another narrow road, twisting up the hill, with each section seemingly steeper than the previous. It was like someone's idea of a bad joke, except there was more cussing than laughing.

As with the 60-mile loop, there was a lot of rough & rotten chip-seal pavement. I thought the lenses would vibrate out of my sunglasses, the fillings out of my teeth, and the bolts out of my bicycle. I tried unlocking the fork on my bike, but the vibration frequency was just too high to be effectively damped by a suspension fork. Bummer.

Shortly after the final Hill of Death, we had a very nice long downhill section. I hit a personal top-speed record: 41 MPH. Not bad for a big guy on a mountain bike (with road tires, but still).

Somewhere around 4:00pm we rolled into town, found our cars, loaded the bikes, and headed home. I see a lot of ibuprofen in my future.

According to the elevation profile, we completed another 40.9 miles and climbed another 2161.5 feet. Totals for the day: 102.1 miles ridden, 5503.1 feet climbed. What a day!

Except for a few blooms in private gardens, I saw almost no daffodils.

Sunday, April 06, 2008

Tulip-less Pedal

I completed the 27th Annual Tulip Pedal ride yesterday.

I thought I would be riding by myself, but in the registration area I just happened to run into a friend from work, Bobby, and 3 of his friends. The 5 of us completed the 40-mile loop (which is actually closer to 46 miles) more-or-less together.

First, let's talk about the wind. Oh my... this was some of the nastiest wind I've ever biked in. Blowing in from the south, the wind speed was high (at least 20) and the gusts were terrible (at least 30). The last 20 miles or so (from Edison back to the start/finish line) were mostly into headwinds. Ouch.

I originally planned to complete both the 40-mile loop and the 20-mile loop, but I decided to skip the 20 miler, for several reasons:
  • I started much later than expected. My silly alarm clock didn't ring at 5:30 as set, so I woke up at 7:30. By the time I ate breakfast, drove to La Conner, registered, and prepared the bike, I didn't actually start riding until 10:30.
  • The organizers wanted everyone finished by 4:00. Fighting the wind really cut into our average speed; we didn't make it back to the start/finish line until 3:00. Getting somewhat lost in Edison (don't ask) didn't help.
  • There's a lot of overlap between the 20- and 40-mile loops, so adding the 20 miler would not have added a lot of new scenery.
  • Speaking of scenery... Despite this being the "Tulip Pedal", part of the annual "Tulip Festival", we did not see a single tulip during the 40-mile loop. There were a few fields of daffodils (and they were certainly beautiful) but not one blooming tulip. Anywhere.
Overall, it was an enjoyable ride, although it did have its "moments". Hopefully next year will have more tulips and less wind.

Wednesday, April 02, 2008

The Key to Cycling is Knowing How to Accessorize

We've seen some bizarre weather recently. The last week of March brought snow every day. The snow didn't last long, and was often just a quick shower, but still. Snow. Every. Day. This past Monday had a little bit of everything -- rain, shine, snow, hail, sleet, lighting, thunder.

There is a giant mass of cold air hanging over the area. The temperature at 17000 feet is about -36C, allegedly the coldest on record for this area. Bring on the CGI wolves.

I've think I've finally learned what I need to wear in order to bike comfortably in our [a]typical early Spring weather conditions. Here's what works for me:

Head
I've finally found a fleece cap that fits my giant noggin and is reasonably comfortable under a helmet. It was $6 on the clearance rack at Joe's Sporting Goods.

Torso
I usually wear a long-sleeved base layer (the REI Lightweight MTS is my current favorite), then a short-sleeved Pearl Izumi jersey, then (optionally, depending on temperature) a North Face fleece jacket, then finally a Pearl Izumi outer shell.

Legs
My legs almost never get cold because a) they're doing all of the hard work, and b) I wear Foxwear Rain Pants over my Pearl Izumi biking shorts. I'm really impressed with the Foxwear Rain Pants. They keep the rain off, they're breathable enough that I don't sweat, and so far they seem indestructible. I was wearing Foxwear Power Shield Pants during my recent accident; they survived without even a scratch (I wish I could say the same for myself).

Hands
For my hands, I wear a thin Pearl Izumi glove liner, then a Pearl Izumi padded cycling glove over the liner. If it's really cold (or windy, or rainy, or all of the above) then I wear a Mountain Hardwear glove over the other two gloves. I think the Mountain Hardware glove is actually intended for snowboarding. It keeps the wind and rain off my hands, but makes them sweat like crazy.

Feet
My feet are the only area that still gets cold occasionally. My current setup is wear SmartWool Light Hiker socks, Specialized BG Sport MTB shoes with Superfeet insoles, and (optionally) SideTrak booties over the shoes. I've tried many things (except those chemical warmer packs -- I hate the idea of having something in my shoe other than my foot). I always feel like the heat is sucked out the bottom of my foot, as if the bicycle is acting like a giant heat sink.

Hopefully (crosses fingers) our weather will warm-up and this will become much less of an issue soon. By July I'll probably be fretting about the heat...