That was a ride

"Boy, that was a ride," said Jon Bren as we sat at Merchants. Indeed it was. He also observed that there wouldn't be hills anything like this in STP in July. Yeah, Jon, just 212 miles.
Today there were lots of hills, and a pretty brisk tempo too. Out Lower Waitsburg, then up the Tour of WW time trial course, and over to the Elevator shaft. Some testosterone enhanced person blew up the paceline about 5 miles from town, when we were already going 25 miles per hour. Sigh. So I ended up in small group with Jon, Dale, Tim and Leslie.
The odometer reading: 50 miles at 17 mph. Pretty good day for me.

A recovery week

After last weekend's 3 days of heavy exertion, this week needed to be more mellow. I didn't ride Tuesday or Wednesday, and Thursday was an easy hour-long spin.
Today, of course was different, because it was Friday morning with the guys. The Friday morning route is always the same; up the Mill Creek bike trail, gradually pulling into the maximum heart rate zone, and then up the steep side of 5 mile hill, and home.
This week we had the company of an old friend, Lee Zimmerman, who is visiting from Breckenridge, Colorado. Lee, who broke his arm badly last winter, and has a plate and umpteen screws in it, said that he only had 100 miles this spring. (It snowed last week in Breckenridge). All that didn't prevent him from beating me up the hill.
But the amazing thing this morning was Jon taking off from the very base of 5 mile. Normally I can keep him in range, but today was his day and he stormed up the hill. Life is getting dangerous when the primo draft gets out of range of the little people.

Tomorrow morning's ride involves the hills of Lower Waitsburg Road and the dreaded Elevator Shaft. Stay tuned for developments as they happen.

Hammered...then redeemed

The bottom picture is the view that I should have seen on Sunday. The rests stops had great themes. The top picture is the "Aloha" theme from Saturday's ride:
So, after I got home from Sunday's epic day up Cabbage Hill, I felt absolutely hammered. Even a two hour nap did little to rejuvenate me. After dinner I was ready for bed again. The problem was, I'd left my helmet and Camelbak in the Hoffman's rig. I called Phil's cell, and he said that they wouldn't be back until 8 or 9, as they're on the organizing committee and had to stay for the evening's program. So, I waited up until they got back at 9:30, and got my stuff back. I had planned all along on only doing the Saturday and Sunday routes, but not being able to complete Saturday's route was niggling at me. Plus, the Hoffman's were doing the rest stop on Monday and had put a lot of time into their theme.
So I decided that if I got up on Monday and it was raining I was going back to bed. It wasn't raining. It wasn't raining in Pendleton, either, according to the computer. I'd slept in until 6:30, so that meant that I wouldn't be in Pendleton and riding until 9. A lot of good excuses not to go - hammered, tired, late, using up expensive gas to drive to Pendleton again....but then there was the training effect of another hard day. Okay, I gave in. The cyclist outvoted the logical lawyer again.
It proved to be a good choice. It was a gorgeous ride, beginning with a series of rollers over the plateau, then dropping down and following the Umatilla River up to the Bar M ranch. One of the most lovely settings that I've ever ridden in. The river was full, and the sound of the river was relaxing. The grade was subtle, and I was humming along.
The Hoffman's rest stop was themed after an aircraft carrier, the USS Lincoln (it was Memorial Day, after all), and there was a group of 15 or so cyclists ON the Lincoln who were replicating our ride on their spinning bikes each day. The Hoffman's had even made a miniature aircraft carrier. The hot, baked potatoes were there again, and I slathered mine in sour cream. I got to visit with baby Hazel's parents again, and had a nice time.
The ride down the river was smooth and fun. Then there was the climb up to the plateau. Not so fun, but not terrible. I discovered, though, that the rollers that I had flown down were not symmetrical. On the way out I had been going down the steep side, and climbing the longer, shallower sides. There was plenty of momentum from the steep side to get going on the shallow side. Now, however, the reverse was in action, along with a headwind.
I kept grinding it out, and then made the last climb up to Tamasklit and was done. Satisfaction! I went into the little cafe there and had a simply wonderful bowl of salmon/corn chowder, took a shower and headed home.
I was so glad that I'd decided to do the third day and finish the event. I felt redeemed.

Oh, my quad(s), an epic day

Yesterday was just one of those epic days that you'll remember for a long time. The course was to climb the old grade of Cabbage Hill up to Deadman's Pass, Meacham and the Oregon Trail interpretive center. Basically, straight up to Deadman's pass for 15 miles was the heart of it. Only, it was raining...
As we began at 54 degrees at Tamasklit, with a sprinkle of rain, things were ominous as you looked up towards the mountains. Ominous as in black, with the top totally obscured. I sat there in car after I parked and thought, "you know, I should just go home. This is a bad idea." But, my cyclist self scolded my reasonable, lawyerly self into getting out of the car. In the parking lot, I ran into my friends Phil and Dale Hoffman, arguing about whether they should ride now or wait until later. Phil was sure that the weather would improve by noon or so. Dale wanted to go now. I left them disagreeing.
As we climbed, fortunately the road was traffic free except for the support vehicles, because the visibility became less and less as we rode upwards. I began to peek over the top of my glasses, and finally just took them off and put them up on my helmet. Nearsighted as I am, at 8 miles per hour, I could actually see better. Even so, visibility was less than 30 feet.
Then there were the 4 metal cattle guards. In the rain. I decided to walk across the first ones, but that proved to be more difficult in bike shoes with my small size 6 feet than riding. As I walked the first cattle guard, I saw a man pulling a Burley trailer with his 9 month old daughter in it ride on by. Astounding.
It was so steep that I had to go across the road to be able to remount and get going.
The hairpin turns weren't so bad if you rode in the middle of the road, which was only possible with the dearth of traffic.
Deadman's Pass was the food stop. I started to walk over to the food, and out of the mist appeared Phil Hoffman, like an apparition, only in his street shoes. "Hey, do you want a ride down? Dale decided to ride up but didn't want to go down in the rain and fog." Why yes, that sounded lovely.
They had hot baked potatoes wrapped in foil. It felt so good on my frigid hands that I almost asked for another one so that each hand would be warm. Others were making the same decision. In the ladies room (it is a rest stop on the I84) the hot air hand dryers were being utilized to dry out soaked pieces of clothing after they were first wrung out. One thing about cyclists in tough conditions: by and large they are pretty good humored and ingenious.
Pretty soon, the fellow with his 9 month old daughter arrived (I really don't remember passing him), followed a short while later by his wife (who then nursed their baby) and his mother in law. His wife complained about how out of shape she was. I said I was just in awe of her. I think that child has some great genes and parents with great values. Her name is Hazel. Watch out for her racing in about 18 years.
Going down the freeway side of Cabbage Hill in Phil's rig with some other refugees was slow and foggy. The big rigs had their flashers on and were going even slower than we were.
The shower at the bottom of the hill was thankfully very, very warm. My quads by then had stiffened up and were grouching at me. What a ride. As I drove home I was already making plans to go up (& down) this climb later in the summer...

A smooth sixtyfive

Today was the first day of the "Century Ride of Centuries" event in Pendleton. Wildhorse Casino is the signature sponsor, so each day begins and ends there. Not really my kind of place, but, hey, if they sponsor a bike ride that's okay with me.
There was a 25, 65 and 100 mile option today. Keeping in mind tomorrow's uber-climb up to Meacham, I chose the 65, and just kept it smooth and even. The course was mostly along the Umatilla River on the old "Echo" highway all the way to the hamlet of Echo. The road was almost devoid of traffic, as there is a newer road from Echo to Pendleton. The countryside reminded me of the Touchet River Road, gently rolling. The road surface left a lot to be desired much of the way, making me thankful for a titanium bike.
I was wearing my Whitman kit, so at the lunch stop, I had people asking me if I knew about that Ann Ride that was in their packet. Indeed I do, I said, and plugged the ride. Hopefully we'll get some riders who saw our flyers.
Tomorrow I'll wear my "Hill Slug" jersey to match my approach to the route. :)

Another great reason to bike...

This advertisement by the Hungarian government to encourage people to bike is absolutely hilarious .

Non-lycra thoughts

've been thinking lately that my commuting garb might want to change. By riding to work in "full biking kit" (jersey, bike shorts, bike shoes) am I making commuting seem less accessible, less something that the average person might consider?
In keeping with this, I've biked with tennis shoes and a t-shirt a couple of times. The shorts are more problematic, as I have trouble with chafing due to the unique pedal stroke on my right leg with its new knee. I need to work on this concept.

A Kooskooskie morning

The alarm went off at 5, not my usual rising time for a Sunday morning, even if it is for a weekday. But with highs projected near 100, it was time to get up and ride before it was hot. And once I got my butt out of bed, I was glad that I had.
An easy-paced ride up Kooskooskie was what I had in mind, and that was what I got. Except for the headwind all the way up, which was replaced with a sweet tail-wind only down as far as Blue Creek. But it was oh so sweet while it lasted. Then a headwind all the way home. Sigh.
In ones and twos, I saw others with the same game plan in mind - ride while it's only in the seventies. When I got up at 5, it was already 70. In May. Delightfully, two of the cyclists I saw were two of my favorite people, Mia and RJ, Whitties and cyclists to boot. We made plans for dinner on Wednesday, when Mia is caught up with school from her trip to collegiate nationals and we can all get caught up with what's been going on in our lives.

Lightly Toasted

I went out this morning to warm up at 6:30 before the group ride to Weston at 7:30. It was already comfortably warm at 6:30. With the forecast for a record 94 degrees, I decided to just go on up to Weston and climb the "old grade," which was the plan anyway.
Once I got up there, I decided to keep going until I had 30 miles. So, I climbed, and felt pretty good. I went past the old weigh station, and kept going. It was lovely up there, green and just a gorgeous day. I debated going all the way to the top at Tollgate, which is 40 miles, but I new it would be blazing hot once I dropped in altitude.
I flew down to Weston, and kept moving pretty well until Milton-Freewater. There, the heat hit like a blast furnace. I stopped at the convenience store and drank a bottle of Gatorade, then started towards home. All was well until about 8 miles from home, when I began to feel the heat and bloated to boot. Dropped into an easy gear, and made it home. It was 86 degrees when I came home.
With 5,900 feet of climbing for the morning I think that it was a good effort. Good enough for today.

Touring the tough way

Joe Kurmaskie, the "Metal Cowboy"rode his bicycle with his two young boys across the country, pulling them, and all of the family camping gear. Read about it here.

This says it all

Bike to work week - why isn't everyone?

It's bike to work week, which means, as usual, I am biking to work. The thing that bothers me, especially in a town the size of Walla Walla, is that there are so few of us biking or walking. People in my building think that biking 1.5 miles to work is a huge athletic feat. Or that walking in the winter when it's too cold to bike is equally astounding.
My morning commute takes maybe 10 minutes. If I drive, then I have to park in one of the city all day lots, which means walking about 5 minutes to get to my office. The time I "saved" by driving is already lost.
Of course, there are days when I take my car - days when I have to be somewhere in the middle of the day that I can't walk to and I need to be wearing my lawyer suit. And I do drive my professional clothes to work once a week, usually on Sunday evening. I filled up my car about 10 days ago. I've gone 21.2 miles in it since.
But all in all, it's so easy. Here's a link on the Cascade Bicycle website that gives a lot of great reasons for biking to work, even part of the time.

Mother's Day

Mother's day was somewhat buoyed this year by the joy of Jim's return to work. It made a painful day less so. I even went for a short bike ride.

A satisfying day

101 miles. Spun the whole way. Yep, a good day and a great training ride.
It really was a great day to ride a bike in the Tri-Cities. A little cool in the morning, and with a headwind all the way to Prosser, including the 6.5 miles up Webber Canyon to the top of the Horse Heaven Hills. The grade is not overwhelming - probably about 5%. However, a headwind up the canyon added to the degree of difficulty.
I rode most of the day with Phil and Dale Hoffman, which made it quite enjoyable.
Time to go put the feet up.

Feeling torn and blue

Tomorrow is the day that the local cyclists traditionally ride up Kooskooskie in Ann's memory, and toast her with champagne. It's almost like taking communion as a cycling community. I'm signed up to do a century in Tri-Cities tomorrow, but am feeling very torn.
I know that I need the miles if I'm to do 200 miles in a day at STP in July, but I really want to be with my cycling buddies on tomorrow. Sigh.

Getting cautiously psyched

Saturday is the Tri-Cities Century and is my first hundred mile ride of the year. My knee has been feeling better the last couple of days, so I went on some easy morning rides with friends. Wednesday it was the usual group, but at a more relaxed pace, as Lynne was there for the first time in a while. I'm still a bit concerned about the knee, but I'll do my best to go easy and just use Saturday to get a wider base mileage-wise.
Sunday, of course, is Mother's Day. It will be four years since Ann was killed. Emily, Ann's step-daughter, is expecting her first child, a child that Ann will never see. It's a hard, hard day for me, but every year gets a bit better.

A bit better

The knee is a bit better.
On a more important note, publicity and planning for the 2008 Ann Weatherill Cycling Classic is well underway. The ride is a fund-raiser for bicycling safety, and is in memory of my best friend, Ann Weatherill. She was killed by an oncoming car when we were cycling with a group on Mother's Day, 2004. The website link for the ride is here.
I'm planning on carrying her beloved purple jersey along when I ride STP in July.

How I got to be doing this

Following the 1994 STP, when I only completed 165 miles, I'd wanted to come back and do it right. Now I had completed all 190-some miles in 1993, but I just don't like to leave a challenge unsuccessful.
Then I had a series of knee surgeries - 1997, 1999, and 2006. It takes me at least a year to recoup from a knee surgery, and really two years to get back my stamina. The 2006 surgery was my unicompartmental Oxford (1/2 knee) replacement (read about it here), which greatly improved my quality of life. In the couple of years leading up to that surgery, I basically was bone on bone. I spent much of my non-cycling time in a knee unloader brace. It helped some, and relieved some of the pain, but I couldn't do something as simple as walk to work, which is only about a mile and a half. Gradually, the knee worsened.
So, I never really had the combination of comfort, stamina and time to consider "re-doing" STP until now.
It had been a really tough fall and winter. My sister died unexpectedly in Texas, then my husband had 3 knee surgeries, including two Oxford knees like mine. He only returned to work this week after 6 months off. Plus, I made two trips to Texas, and continue to try to handle my sister's estate.
So I sat here in February, and wanted to get a positive goal for the year. I decided to register for STP. Then came searching for training plans. I bought a book "Bicycling Magazine's Long Distance Cycling," downloaded a different training plan, and got one from a friend who's done STP in a day for several years in a row. I ended up combining different aspects of them, although I'm mostly using the book.

Ouch!

Now the bad old knee is sore. It got a sore on the 76 long miles on Saturday - sore on the lateral side, which was new. I can't decide whether it was just because I had reduced mileage due to my sinus infection the week before, or whether it was because I've been switching back and forth between my old bike and "Annie" (Ann's bike). The fit is very close, but it's not exact. Plus the pedals are different (a new pair of road pedals would set me back $220, which is not a priority at the moment due to finances).
Anyway, it was a bit sore on Sunday, but much more so on Monday, so all I did was ride to work. I think that may be all today, too. With a 100 miler scheduled for Saturday, I don't want this to become chronic. On the other hand, I don't want to not ride all week and begin the cycle of aggravating it after not riding. Oh, the Hobson's choices of life!

76 long miles

Yesterday I did 76 miles. The first 60 miles were easy, incredibly fun on a perfect day. At 60 miles, I hit the dreaded wall. I bonked. At mile 64, I told my husband and brother in law, who were sagging for me, "I'm done." Since we had planned a picnic at the end, we drove up to Camp Wooten. I ate, and felt a whole lot better. At John's suggestion, I rested in his hammock, and then with a bit of encouragement, I said, okay, meet me ten miles down the road.
Looking back at hitting the wall, we had planned a stop in Starbuck (the route being Lower Waitsburg, Bolles Road, and then Alto road, with its marvelous 8 mile downhill to Starbuck). Going down the downhill, I came up behind some farm equipment that took up the whole road. I waited for them, went again, and when they didn't turn off, I pulled over to wait. So, I had a quick snack when the guys came by, and then met them in another 25 miles. That's when I didn't eat enough. I had a bagel and some tea, but at mile 45 it was time for more serious food.
Today I'm going to do some very easy spinning and then tomorrow is a day off. With the Tr-
Cities Century next Saturday, I need to taper a bit this week.