Update to the CRASH

I got up last night and bandaged my knee - as the sheets were sticking to it. Ouch.
I pulled out Bec's wrist brace, which just happens to be for the right hand. 2 out of 3 of the velcro straps are long enough to reach. The brace helps, but makes work of typing. I'm icing the wrist periodically with a kitchen towel and a bag of frozen veggies.

I already had a run scheduled this morning with a friend, so sent him a text message last night to push our start time out 2 hours. The run went well - about 4 miles in the hills behind Alhambra High School - but I had my right shorts leg rolled up pretty high to keep it from rubbing on the road rash. (I'll spare you the picture)

Changing a diaper on a wriggling 7 week old is trying with one club hand. She managed to give my wrist a swift kick this morning evoking a quick yelp. Twerp. Burping her is also interesting.

I forgot to mention on the list of damaged gear, that my phone was among the casualties. This is among the greatest losses, as my beloved Treo Pro is not cheap - even on Ebay. I pulled it from my jersey pocket yesterday to find the top right corner of the screen blank. I either rolled over on it, or the cliff face tagged it on the way by. It has slowly begun to recover and may escape the e-waste bin yet, but my initial chagrin was great.



I still haven't gone out to check on my bike. I can't work on it anyway with my wrist as is. Not to mention, I'm not yet prepared to learn that I broke something expensive. Like Ben said in his text - this is no way to justify the STI upgrade I've been saving for.

1/1/2010 First Ride - First Crash

The title pretty much says it all.

It rained overnight and into the morning, raising the question "would we ride?"
The rain let up around 9:00 am - Start time - and I hurried to catch the group after arriving about 15 min late. The roads up Mt. Diablo were slick but the clouds were breaking up, and I was quickly sweating as I rode to catch up. I caught them a few miles before the ranger station, and from there I slowed to take in the view. Near the top I picked up the pace again while chatting with some new acquaintances, and climbed the final 18% grade in the best form ever.








At the top I donned long gloves, arm warmers, jacket, etc. after meeting up with the rest of our group.



Then we descended.

Did I mention that the roads were slick?

I've descended this mountain fifty times if once. Over time I've noted all the areas where I would be likely to biff if given the chance. I got the chance on this ride. I came around a corner below the ranger station at a reasonable speed, but touched the brakes a little too much. I really think I could have made the corner if I had just stayed off the brakes and trusted my Michelins. Too late. My back wheel locked and I skidded on the wet pavement. I backed off the brakes then, but the physics were fatally altered. I chose a line through the rough gravel on the shoulder shifting briefly into Mountain Bike mode, but the rock face had my number. Everything sped up and slowed down simultaneously, and next thing I knew I was spitting pink gravel.



My comrades arrived on the scene one by one and made temporary repairs to my bike and Milt offered to ride down and return with his truck. The wheels were fine, and nothing critical was broke. Unfortunately my front brake was tweaked pretty good, and the guys had to flip it over to keep it from rubbing. My rear brakes were fine but my right hand was slowly loosing feeling, having taken the brunt of the impact. I could operate the brake by pulling back on the lever, while avoiding squeezing with my thumb. I decided to ride it down. Slow.




The group was great and someone tailed me for the whole rest of the descent. Milt graciously documented the event with most of these pictures.

I will look over the bike tomorrow when - hopefully - I can use my right hand a little better. Yes, I'm using it right now to type, but it's pretty slow going.

In all - Not a bad way to start off the year. If I have to crash this year - may as well get it over with.







Following are the stats...

Road rash right shoulder, right forearm, right knee, and cheek (face cheek :))
Cut all 4 fingers right hand, knee, face, lips.
Blood blisters on 2 fingers right hand.
Hyper extended right thumb.
Sore and stiffening rapidly - everything from my knees up.

Bike - Not sure. Will look at it again tomorrow. But, the brakes should be fine.

Gear - Small tear in 2 glove fingers (not bad at all considering the damage to my hands), Small tear in 1 sleeve of rain jacket, Helmet scratched but no real damage, 1 lens of sunglasses scratched beyond repair, everything else covered with mud.

Pride - Damaged, but not beyond repair.

The Guys and Gals I ride with - The best in the world.

Morning Run

Saturday Dec. 19 dawned cold and wet. The temperature downtown Martinez was a balmy 48 degrees with a dew point of 45. At around 600' in the hills west of Alhambra Ave. the temperature was at or below the dew point. I know, because we got lost - trail running in the fog.

We know those trails reasonably well, though never covering all of them. Last time we were there - a few weeks ago - Vince and I explored a new route and managed to find our way out at approximately where we expected. This time we decided to attempt to run that route in reverse. That was only one in a series of decisions which guaranteed a little excitement.



Another of those decisions was to diverge from the somewhat familiar path and take an alternate trail at the first of many trail splits. Several minutes of rather difficult climbing later, we encountered the next split in the trail. Visibility was well under 100', nothing looked familiar, and the typical landmarks on distant peaks or in surrounding valleys were useless. We could have retraced our steps at that point, since we were already 2 miles into our run, but true to form, we basically flipped a coin and pressed on.

Once we made that turn we committed to being truly lost. At each intersection we would compare opinions, and consistently agree that we had no idea where we were. We'd sometimes stop to listen for the fog horns out on the river, or the traffic from Highway 4 nearby, but even then couldn't be sure which way was out. At one point we compared perceptions regarding the compass headings, and found we were working with realities approximately 90 degrees divergent from one another. His North was my East.

Those who know me AT ALL will understand why at that point I gladly gave up my perception of reality for his, knowing that I'm capable of getting lost in a mall parking lot with no cars and one exit.



After alternating between left turns and right turns for a while, Vince recognized a trail that we had taken earlier (good thing 'cause I didn't) - but we were headed back down it in the same direction as before. Yeah - great big circle. At least then we knew which way not to go.

I used the GPS tracking on my phone to track this route - so we at least know where we were
Even if we didn't know where we "are."

After about 45 minutes of wandering at high speed, we did begin to recognize the trails and set out with more certainty.

We made it out.

Obviously.

I sit here this morning, another foggy morning, the day after Christmas itching to get back out there and run. Christmas Eve I rode the mountain bike from home, to Radio Shack looking for a new power cord for our newly inoperable DSL modem, then continued up to Briones Peak and back. (Don't get your AC Adapters from Radio Shack - I went to Fry's later and found it for a third of the price)

The modem now works.

Obviously - if you're reading this.



Merry Christmas.

Death Ride 2010

I think I can wait till after Christmas to start training.
This year - under 10 hours.

Snow Cycling

It snowed here in the San Francisco Bay Area and gave the news outlets a diversion from the typical political, economic, and global warming banter. Wait - global what?

It DOESN'T snow here, except a couple of times a year we are able to see a dusting at the higher elevations. Sunday night and Monday morning we got plastered - down to just a few hundred feet, making quite a spectacle of the foothills surrounding the Diablo Valley.
Mt. Diablo is still spectacular 2 days later.



Providence led me on Monday to an unexpected - though not unlikely - afternoon adventure.

The first act of Providence, was that a midnight feeding (The baby, not me) rolled my waking time back an hour, placing me on highway 680 South between Martinez and Concord at day break, unlike the darkness that I prefer. As I merged onto Hwy 4 I glanced to the east and saw the eastern hills and what was visible of Mt. Diablo below the lingering clouds glowing in the dim light. It DID snow - a LOT! I was instantly mentally rearranging my day.

The second act of Providence was that I received a text message from a fellow adventurer, Chris, who was interested in skiing our local ski slopes. I affirmed my desire to play in the snow - not sure how skiing was going to happen without lifts, and with the road up Diablo closed. His second text hinted at a willingness to ride his mountain bike up - and my preoccupation converted into pure distraction. Office work was quickly becoming impossible. Processing payroll seemed stunningly dull. The morning dragged by, as I imagined the sun melting all the snow.

I had an afternoon appointment which set the scene for Providence's final act. My afternoon appointment canceled. I called Chris, we set up a rendezvous, and I started the process of organizing the thermal layers. Ella was wanting to see the snow also, which after warning her of the risks involved ("You will get very cold"), guaranteed this adventure would be worthy of bringing the camera along.












The ride was thrilling, and though difficult, was not as hard pulling the trailer bike as I thought it would be. In doing so, I unwittingly nearly completed another of this year's goals - pulling Ella to the top of Mt. Diablo. The road was closed to even cyclists at the ranger station, and between the steep grade of the trails and the setting sun, we wisely turned back shy of the top.

When it started spitting snow on the climb at around 1000' we were excited. When it started collecting on our helmets we were like kids at a carnival. We had no expectation of it actually starting to snow again, and couldn't have been more pleased. Ella got her time in the snow, and we got our adventure, nearly making it worth the frigid descent.

Yeah, it was cold on the way down. The climb kept us warm - even to the point of sweating. But playing in the snow chilled us, and the wind chill finished us off. My finger tips hurt for hours. We figure the wind chill was in the teens if not single digits up around 2000'.

As always - Well worth it.

Chris posted a compilation of video he took on the ride - available here. It's a long download, so be patient.

Also, Channel 7 caught us on video as we neared the Ranger Station at around 2,000'.
Fast forward to about 2 minutes into the video.
http://abclocal.go.com/kgo/story?section=weather&id=7156828

Christmas Child

Our 2nd beautiful daughter is a mere 7 and 1/2 pounds with a soaking wet diaper, but has managed to blast a monstrous hole in our day to day routine, leaving only shreds of recognizable normality. Her effect on our emotional stability has been little less.

I am sleep deprived.

So far that is the best explanation I can come up with for the emotion laden thought processes that have been swirling the mists of recent cognitive exercises. On the one extreme, I find myself reacting to mere annoyances with the intensity of dire emergencies. While on the other, I am easily sobered and rendered melancholy by the simplest reference to maternity or paternity.

In short I'm pretty pathetic - especially by my own standards.

Yes, it is a bit alarming to see such a remarkable and respectable stoicism suffering abandon. But I believe it is not all bad. Blinding though it may be, I've peered through the chinks of the adamant facade and seen a gleam which I have previously either discounted or shunned. Even with the birth of our first daughter, I was undaunted, the conqueror and champion bringing life to the world, and victory to our familial obligation.
Procreate.
Done.
And then I was content to be the victor.
And I was content.
Period.
Next objective...

My wife tells a completely different story - not about me - but about her approach to this phase of our journey. I will not tell her story for her. But she has lived without a facade around that part of her life and has drunk deeply from what I'm now sipping.

Don't worry I'm not planning on opening an orphanage or a day care. But, since the loss of our son a year ago on the 12th of this month, I have seen life, mortality, and the part I play in them in a far clearer fashion. Now with the birth and life of our daughter, my part in the saga has crystallized even a touch more.

...that to say...

I would like to communicate in the most reverent, and immensely inadequate way, how I have for the first time realized that our Lord Jesus Christ came to this world - as a little Baby. You understand what I mean, because you've been there too, when I say that though you give ascent to many concepts, there are times when concepts meet circumstances and meld to become reality for you. No one else necessarily gets the benefit of it, but YOU are keenly aware of a new reality - for YOU.
For me - this Christmas - it is the infant form of the God of the universe.

I've heard a few Christmas songs this year for the first time which bring out the question of, in essence "What was Jesus' understanding as a child of His surroundings and limitations." As I am hearing these songs, I am able to put the face of my own infant child into the scenario, and am astounded that the Creator would condescend to not just the form of his creation, but into the barest and most dependent state of its existence.

No doubt Joseph and Mary are baffled, in addition to the emotions that all the rest of us face in those first few hours and days. I suppose the one fear they needed not have was the one of losing this child. They had God's promise. Yet, undoubtedly the hosts of hell had planned His demise. In my mind's eye I can see the swords of hell's fiercest drawn as they converge on the hillside town of Bethlehem. Then - a blinding diversion among a group of shepherds, leaves them vulnerable to an assault from Heaven's mightiest. The skirmish is brief and decisive, and a soft whimper softly shakes the earth to its core.

There are a thousand questions with no answer. Did He cry? Did he relinquish his omniscience for a time? Did he immediately begin to bear the burden of our sins, or was his infancy spared such weight? I wonder.

I am left with one answer.

Thank you.

Rockville Again

I did manage to squeeze in a ride in Rockville on Saturday - 24 hours before my wife went into labor. I checked the phone frequently during that ride to be sure I hadn't missed any calls, but could have saved the energy for getting up some of those hills, or bounding over the boulders in the rock gardens.

I finally got to wear my new full face helmet. I certainly felt more safe. But it was a little hot, and the one time I did go over the bars - I managed to spare my brand new helmet.

Attached are a few videos of our short adventure.

The basic conclusion we came to was...
We need to do technical riding more often.



This is a little crazy - I didn't do this drop, and neither did Vince and Jeff the second time we came around to it. Maybe next time - with pads.



This is me coming down a small hill that looked meaner than it turned out to be.




And Vince on the same hill.

Baby

For one like myself, who enjoys the thrill of the unexpected, living in fast forward as much as possible - The birth of our second daughter was about as mundane as such events can possibly be.

It was not in the middle of the night.
It was not announced to me in a text message because cell reception was so poor in the remote corner of the wilderness where I was mountain biking.
It was not with a pop and a woosh, right in the middle of Starbucks after ordering 2 White Chocolate Mochas (one being decaf of course).
It was not on the busiest day of my week requiring rescheduling dozens of cascading appointments.
It was not at all exciting.

It was Sunday morning November 15 shortly after waking from a restful sleep, that my wife stated that she was seeing a pattern to the tightness in her watermelon shaped abdomen. No one ran, and no one shouted. As a matter of fact - I kept getting ready for church, assuming I would be going alone with Ella, while Bec rested. The most exciting thing I got to do that morning was change out of my brown pants (which I was looking forward to wearing, since I hadn't worn them in a while) and pull on a more comfortable pair of jeans, and a long sleeve t-shirt.

About 10 hours later it was over. I was exhausted, emotionally drained, psychologically spent, and ready for a seat by a fire with a hot cup of coffee (which is not possible in a Kaiser hospital, since all they have in the hospital is decaf, which really isn't coffee.) For her part - Bec was a little tired too, but generally little worse for the wear. We were both happy to have Gianna Keren Swinton out and among us finally.

Like I said, pretty uneventful. It all went so smooth, that we didn't even argue with the doctor 2 days later when they said they wanted to keep her overnight under the bili lights to bring her jaundice under control. We figured, we would take any excitement we could find.

So now we are home, Gianna is nursing fairly well, sleeping well, and - well she doesn't do anything else. And I'm creating my own excitement by seeing how quickly I can clear the dishwasher, and fold the laundry or by trying to estimate exactly that point at which the green beans will spontaneously combust in the microwave - and beat it by a second.

If you think I'm desperate - you're wrong. I went riding up Mt. Diablo this morning with a group of friends and I turned around short of the very top because of ice on the road. I didn't need the excitement. I sat on the couch for nearly half an hour this evening with an infant that had been sleeping for 20 minutes - not because I had to, but, because it was exciting.

Taking Risks

I've condensed a recent email exchange.

Talk about taking risks...

From: Vincent Hackett

Meeting at noon today, Briones Staging area for a 2 hour tour

From: Scott Swinton

Let's try again next weekend.
What about rockville next weekend?

Scott Swinton
www.cycling-through.blogspot.com

From: Vincent Hackett

I would like to ride somewhere, road or MTB

From: Scott Swinton

Rockville.

I want to wear my new helmet and look like I know what I’m doing.

That is – if we aren’t delivering a baby – still waiting…

Scott Swinton

www.cycling-through.blogspot.com

From: Vincent Hackett

A friend at work just had a baby yesterday, 5 weeks early...

From: Scott Swinton

We are still 3.5 weeks early. But Ella was 4 weeks early, so we figure any time now.

Have a friend from church at labor and delivery right now.

But, hey, Bec will do just fine without me if I’m out on my bike.

I’m sure she’ll understand.

Scott Swinton

www.cycling-through.blogspot.com

From: Vincent Hackett

You're pushing it, hope she didn't read this :)

So, on Tue, Nov 10, 2009 at 8:04 AM, Scott Swinton forwarded the above messages to Rebekah just for the fun of it:

Love ya. :)

Scott Swinton

www.cycling-through.blogspot.com

From: Rebekah Swinton

Rockville had better have phone reception. That's all I have to say. Otherwise, I'm afraid you won't need a good crash to wreck your bike--you might just find it in a million pieces in the recycling can one day. I know you'd understand. ;-)

Love you, too.

--- On Tue, 11/10/09, Scott Swinton Forwarded Rebekah’s message: To Vince...

From: Scott Swinton

Thought you would like this.

Scott Swinton

www.cycling-through.blogspot.com

From: Vincent Hackett

Ya right, you wrote this from her email account and sent it to yourself. Rebekah's too nice to write that...




From: Scott Swinton

Just keep thinking that.
Don't forget - she's pregnant.

Scott Swinton
www.cycling-through.blogspot.com

And yes, life is full of calculated risks for those of us who like to live it near the edge.

Another Mt. Diablo First

Dave Climbs Diablo

...On his bike. I've been challenging him to attempt it ever since he was given a decent hybrid mountain bike a couple of years ago. It was also one of my goals for the year, as I wrote about earlier. Seems it blossomed into a goal for him too and he trained well. I gave him some pointers for training and pre-ride preparation, but didn't have to lend any other aid.


The weather was PERFECT at 65 degrees and crystal clear. We stopped once, halfway to the ranger station, because nature was calling, and stopped again at the ranger station - mid way up. The stop was long enough to chat with other cyclists, refuel, and re-fill the water bottles. Next year's Death Ride ended up being the focus of conversation among the group gathered there. I was proudly sporting my 5 pass Death Ride finisher jersey which had recently come in the mail. I was pleasantly surprised at how much conversation that sparked along the way. (Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, I enjoyed the accolades too.)

We summited in around 2 hours and 20 minutes. He was cramping, talking to himself, sweating profusely, and looked prepared to eat anything that didn't move. Not bad form at all for a first attempt, on a mountain bike, on the second longest ride of his life. He also complained about some numbness, but I assured him that the numbness was his friend, and he should just enjoy it while it lasted. We burned about 30 minutes at the top and then I couldn't abide the wait any longer. I also was on my mountain bike, and was salivating over the trails below.

Now Dave is not a downhiller. Dave and I are rather different in this general concept. I thrive on adventure - not like some, I mean I don't really want to hasten my demise, but - on the adventure scale I'm probably an 8 out of 10. Dave is a 5, and can often be persuaded to be a 3 or 4 if he hangs out with the wrong crowd. All of that to say, I'm not sure if he was dreading the climb or the descent more. At one point, after spending a peaceful interlude waiting for him to catch up- or down, I offered to segue our journey back to the road; but he bravely agreed to stay the course. We arrived back at his car intact. He kept mumbling about long periods of time in sleep. I encouraged him to wait till he got home.

I had ridden my bike from the house to the mountain, and so, left to wander home again pleased with his initiation into - (or possibly, discontinuation of) the sport of cycling.

Way to go Dave.