Revolution

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If I say "Revolution" something comes to your mind.
If like me you have southern roots, you might immediately think along the lines of a political movement or restructuring such as the French Revolution, the 13 Colonies and the Revolutionary War, or more to the point - the Revolutionary action of the Confederacy in response to the oppressions of the northern states.
Or if you happen to be less historically and politically minded and more scientifically so, you may launch immediately into thoughts of celestial bodies in perpetual motion on a timeless journey around a more or less tangible axis.

While both of the above concepts are key to my existence in this particular environment, society, and frankly, life in general - a microcosm of revolution has been in play over nearly a year for this cyclist. This far less grandiose turn of events comprises both concepts - the radical divergence from a previous course, and the rhythmic systematic rotation of elements around an axis.

What have I done?

Long story short...
About 15 years ago I spent just over $800 on a brand new purple and white Bridgestone RB2 road bike with clipless pedals and white handle bar tape. I installed a second water bottle cage, yellow handlebar tape, and a computer and rode the bike for several years over a thousand miles. Then for nearly 10 years during college, newly married life, and the birth of our first daughter the bike sat idle, though dry and pampered. I began to feel the need to exercise regularly and started running, whereupon I quickly gained stamina and an array of pulled muscles. To maintain my cardiovascular progress and ease the pain, I transitioned over to my long neglected friend.

I gained endurance and strength rapidly and was addicted even faster. 3 years passed as I rode a classic road bike, which drew accolades on nearly every ride. But I longed for something more contemporary and efficient. Alas a second daughter and the budget in general made that impossible.

I crashed on New Years Day 2010. My Bridgestone was unrideable, but within days, a friend put his second bike up for sale at a price I couldn't pass up. I had my new ride. But I also still had an old friend with great potential, battered though she was.

A revolution began.

The crash bent the front brakes and tweaked the fork and rear triangles. The first act was to get the bike capable of any reliable wheel revolutions at all. With help from my dad and a vice and some tentative twisting , I accomplished this task. Amazingly the wheels were still true and now spun like a dream.

Upon purchasing the Bridgestone I was a "hard core" roadie. I fancied myself a racer, and hoped to be mistaken for a professional.


This was not likely to have happened. What also was not likely, was any consideration along the lines of the conceptual revolution now occurring in this bike. At a time when I was opposed to even installing a saddle bag on the bike, I would have certainly been opposed to obnoxiously large 700 x 28 tires, lights, reversible platform / SPD pedals, and for goodness sake certainly not a rear fender.

Well that's exactly what happened, plus the addition of the "hipper than Santa Cruz" triathlon aero bars and "Tri" brake levers, new saddle, and reinstallation of the yellow bar tape. The best part is that the whole transformation cost me less than $75 out of pocket. This setup definitely gives a nod to the whole Santa Cruz / Berkeley "fixie" revolution taking place on college campuses. I couldn't bring myself to replace the 7 speed shimano cassette for a fixed gear though.





The fender is home made, so we'll see how long it lasts. The bracket is from a broken and abandoned headlamp, and the aluminum is formed from a street sign my company replaced. Seems quite sturdy, though time will tell.

I now have a commute bike which will bridge the gap between my road bike and mountain bike on more utilitarian rides. I suspect I even see another saddle bag in my near future.


Special thanks to Kipp for the gear and guidance.

A few nights in Solvang

Bec and I spent a few nights at a snug Bed and Breakfast in the middle of a "Danish" California town named Solvang. Solvang is tucked neatly off 101 in southern California, and evidently has beautiful weather in mid November. Incidentally it has also been a stop for the Tour of California bicycling race for several years and will be so again in 2011.

It was her idea to bring the bikes - really. I almost tried to talk her out of it, but decided to be genial and just go along.

We enjoyed many strange things like eating out, staying up late, sleeping late, and even periodically ignoring the cell phones.


Both of us have an appreciation for architecture and sent ourselves to school to learn the why and how behind these Nordic structures.

We only drove the car once in 3 days. Mostly we walked, but we also took the bikes out a few times.
We pedaled over to this coffee shop - which was run completely out of coffee?

So we found the back patio of this little bakery and drank their coffee.

We stayed out late.

Bec was game for a second ride, so we rode 5 miles up the valley to Los Olivos, a sleepy little wine town, and bought sandwiches at this little market.

I got a photo OP with one of the locals on our ride back home. According to a newspaper article the day before, this is a male out looking for some action. He just about got more than he bargained for as the cars breezed over him.

We came into a stiff crossing head wind as we rode down the valley toward home. I was impressed as Bec picked up drafting. It wasn't long before she was stuck like glue to my rear wheel coasting down the road while I hammered along braving a stiff breeze.

This is cycling country. I'm pretty sure my wife didn't have that in mind when she chose this as our 10th anniversary getaway, but I am pleased that she didn't cancel the reservations when she realized that it is.

The Picture of Disappointment

The weather had been predicting rain for the entire weekend. I was thrilled. Pastor, Matt, and I had planned another 6:30 am hike in Briones, and I was hoping for some spectacularly nasty weather.

For goodness sake...
I get up in the dark and ride 6 miles to the park with lights to keep from getting plastered. We hike through the mud for upwards of 10 miles, climbing an average of 3000'. I ride the bike home.
...not even the faintest element of adventure to breach the placid surface on the sea of the routine. The least we could ask for is dumping rain.

We got none. A barely perceptible mist in the headlamps was the only meager meteorological nod toward augmenting our adventure. From the summit of Briones Peak we witnessed the next county getting deluged.

We got none. I sit here typing - dry, warm, caffeinated - post adventure. It's raining outside.


All was not lost. We were briefly witness to the eruption of Mt. Diablo. A providential parting of the heavens provided a strangely prosaic validation to a mountain lamentably victimized in its designation. In spite of the metaphoric austerity, we were all 3 taken aback by the momentary show of artistry. For-shame, We had naught but the cameras on our phones.

Oh, that You would rend the heavens!
That You would come down!
That the mountains might shake at Your presence—
² As fire burns brushwood,
As fire causes water to boil—
To make Your name known to Your adversaries,
That the nations may tremble at Your presence!
³ When You did awesome things for which we did not look,
You came down,
The mountains shook at Your presence.
⁴ For since the beginning of the world
Menhave not heard nor perceived by the ear,
Nor has the eye seen any God besides You,
Who acts for the one who waits for Him.
Isaiah 64:1-4

Recovery - Running - Rain

Dr. Woll

Another $30 co-pay bought me a few minutes with John P. Woll MD, who after studying my lackluster knee xrays declared that the only really good chance of mollifying the Pre-patellar Bursitis causing my knee to look like it swallowed a golf ball, was a simple outpatient surgical procedure. "We have an opening tomorrow if you're interested."

Sensing my hesitancy, he offered to drain the swelling again and let me think about it. Suddenly a needle in my knee was sounding profoundly cheery. I think there was only 1 needle this time, though I wasn't watching. He froze my knee at the injection point rather than sticking me with a small amount of anesthetic like the last guy. That worked for me, and I was up and walking out of the room behind him, rather lying slimy with sweat waiting for my blood pressure to come back up. Finally he wrapped the knee and told me to keep it so for 5 - 6 days encouraging the swelling to stay down. Dr. Woll still only offered me a 40% chance of it actually solving the problem.

It worked. Sort of.

I'm running again, and riding a little. Vince and I rode a short 50 mile loop last Saturday, and that, after having run about 5 hilly trail miles on Thursday afternoon. I had been drained earlier Thursday morning, so with my knee looking normal again, I was powerless against the urge to be back out in the open with my heart pounding and lungs burning. I had my brace on, and kept it wrapped as instructed for the majority of 6 days. I'm no longer bracing or wrapping the knee (I could hardly stand it, plus it made my lower leg swell if I didn't move around), but the knee swelling has still come and gone, though to a far lesser degree, over the course of the last week. I haven't eliminated surgery from my options though procrastination has been victorious so far. I guess winter is the best time to recover and I should get it on if I'm going to go there.

A few spitting rain drops were refreshing, though a poignant reminder that summer has surrendered to fall.

This Thursday I ran in the Martinez hills again - alone, with the first real storm front of fall 2010 moving in just a few thousand feet above the peaks I was crossing. 4.6 miles with 1000' of elevation gain was a good warm up to our family walk to Baskin Robbins. This was Becky and I's 10th anniversary celebration. We were doing it up big with 1 scoop apiece.
I had brought a plastic picnic table cloth to throw over Gianna in the jogging stroller just in case the sky opened up on us. The rest of us wore rain jackets that really only proved useful against a variant irrigation sprinkler half way home.

My 4.6 mile run, with a double loop around the high school track.

This morning Pastor, Matt, and I hiked from Old Briones Rd. around 6:30am. With 2 blinkeys and 2 headlights, I slogged along the soaked streets on my mountain bike to get there right on time - completely soaked - not from the drizzle, but from perspiration trapped inside my rain jacket. The high tech fabrics they make technical cycling gear from are designed to promote "breathing" and evaporation of the inevitable perspiration. The rain gear is supposed to allow water vapor (evaporating sweat) to exit whilst preventing rain from entering. Supposed to. I fear that I may be vaporizing more than it can handle. Fortunately everything else I wear is "quick dry" so about a mile down the trail I was reasonably comfortable. Then the trail began climbing - and the process started all over again.

I met these six guys on the trail and took their picture as they sorted out their route.

I'm still awaiting the tally of miles we covered, though my unofficial total comes to nearly 11 miles in 3.5 hours. We climbed at least 2000', but that is certainly conservative.

Another 6 miles on the bike brought me home to a warm (second) breakfast, and the water bottle of coffee, that I had forgotten on the kitchen table at 6:00 am. It warmed up just fine in the microwave.

I don't see sunshine in the forecast for at least 2 more days. I fear it is time to break out the cold and wet weather gear for good, or possibly just lay off and send the "ok I'll do it" email to Dr. Woll. I'll think about it tomorrow.

She Was Right Again

So I've had some weird swelling on my knee. A Kaiser doctor drained it for me (using 3 separate needles) over a week ago, and drained the vast majority of blood from my cranium at the same time. As I was watching exam room ceiling swim above me, I heard the doctor saying something about my pre-patellar bursitis possibly coming back if I didn't stop doing whatever had brought it on. I was still trying to figure out what I had done to "bring it on," as the main cause is supposedly spending time on your knees. I received no clear or likely causation from the doctor nor admonition regarding cycling or running.

I have a 9 month old and a 7 year old, so my time spent on hands and knees may have spiked a little recently, but still...

24 hours after having my knee drained into a syringe roughly the size of San Francisco Bay, my left knee was bulging again. After a week of hopeful procrastination I emailed my doctor, who immediately ordered x rays and scheduled me with an orthopedist.

A week and a half after the needles I showed up for the x rays. At check in the technician indicated that I still had an x ray pending for a wrist injury from several months back.

Oh yeah... My wrist injury from New Years Day (And re-injury on the Tahoe Flume trail in August)

I had called for that appointment to placate my wife back near the beginning of the year, but then conveniently never showed up. The technician behind the desk informed me that they could nuke both appendages for the price of one - and I just couldn't say no.

Just for the record: I don't like going into rooms that have warning signs and lights all over the outside of the door, and I don't like the fact that the x ray tech always dives behind a thick wall and a pane of glass, leaving me posed and exposed while crunching and sucking noises emit from far walls and nearby instruments in rapid succession.

She blasted my knees and wrist in impossible poses at various angles, and then sent me on my radioactive way.

I got a phone call from a doctor today. About my wrist? "It seems that sometime in the recent past you must have fractured the scaphoid bone in your wrist..."

Becky's gonna love this...

She literally punched me when I told her.

You can read about it here. It might as well be talking about me.

Hopefully I'll get some good news about my knee in the next week or so when I visit the next doctor. I'm backing off in the mean time. Not that I have much choice - remember that 9 month old and 7 year old...? Maybe I'll work in a commute ride just before my appointment so the doctor can really see it bulge.

Commuting

Twice in as many "attempts" I've ridden up Mt. Diablo without summiting.

This is actually quite an achievement - not a failure. My poor beaten and burdened psyche is plagued with unreasonable and frequent obligations. Obligations self imposed. I'm often setting myself up with self directed phrases like "die trying" and "quitting is not an option." No doubt my wife could pontificate an opinion from her safe distance.

There was a point where I told myself I would never ride the mountain without forcing myself to go the distance. A rare occasion when I had a specific route planned and an extraordinarily good reason for skipping the summit, might be my only exception. Starting out with the thought of reaching the summit and not arriving was "not an option."

I've been commuting to and from work once a week for some time now after a sabbatical resulting from an overambitious schedule, the birth of our second daughter, and a myriad of additional excuses to stay off the bike at 5:30 am on a week day.

The route has been varied to add miles. Other opportunities to ride, run, or hike have been dwindling, so my return to commuting has become my singular athletic outlet. The score of miles each way isn't enough of an outlet, so I've been adding around 40 miles on the evening ride home to push the typical 20 closer to 60.

It's not really all that hard to accumulate 60 miles. There are great roads for cycling here in the Bay Area and a little creativity can map a route of just about any distance desired. From Richmond through Orinda and Moraga, and then over to Mt. Diablo and home makes a route almost exactly 60 miles. Well - if I don't summit and just ride to the Ranger Station and back down that is.

And so with some minor variation, that has been my route twice and may end up being thus again. I didn't push for the top the first time because of dwindling daylight, and the second time was nothing more than I just wanted to go home. I knew I would have 60 miles and I was ready to be done. After all, a 20 mile ride in the dark was waiting for me the next morning.

I consider my choice to abandon a victory. That works for me. However, I'm afraid if I allow such excesses too many times, I may be forced to bolster my bravado with some random adventurous excess.

I must use caution.

USA Cycling Pro Championships

Tyler Phinney and race winner Ben King - Both likely to put USA in cycling news for years to come.

Sunday afternoon I was sewing a new scarf, balaclava, bandanna "thing" on my wife's ancient sewing machine when my mother called to let me know there was a big cycling race going on in Greenville.

I pulled up CyclingNews and found the live report of the race. I had just missed the end by a few minutes, but enjoyed reading the report "as it happened" anyway.

How many times have I ridden past that plane in Cleveland Park?

I grew up in Greenville, SC, know the roads they were riding, and visualized the 4, 22 mile laps as if I was there beside them. Indeed by the end of the ride report I was ready to jump on my bike and take a few spins up Paris Mt. myself. I could hear the crowds screaming as practically amateur Ben King crossed the finish line minutes ahead of the pro peloton. What a day for a young 21 year old racer. Seems he had already earned himself a spot on the newly formed Team Radio Shack. Think - Lance Armstrong, Levi Leipheimer, and Chris Horner as ride companions at 21 years young.

When I was 21 and in Greenville, there was only one thing on my mind. Her. The bike was a distant and shrinking 2nd. And rightly so.

I wish him well and will live that part of my life vicariously through guys like him.

Caution - Rattlesnake Under Bench

I sat waiting for Chris and his friend Brandon to show up at the North Gate entrance to Mt. Diablo watching the horses through a rail fence.

I had been riding laps on Walnut Ave, and North Gate Rd. since quarter after 4. Now 30 minutes later and 45 minutes late, Chris called to say he was 6 minutes away. I found a place for him to pull off the road and sat. I had 30 some odd miles behind me.

I had texted Chris earlier in the day to let him know I was heading for the mountain around 4:00 for some extra miles on my way home. Chris was game. Brandon, who never rides bikes was obliged to come along on a borrowed bike.

Brandon did outstanding for a newbie, and gave me a fresh perspective on the hills. Chris and I took turns pushing him up the steeper sections... Yow. The slow pace also gave rise to a series of sprint challenges raised by Chris. I'm incapable of declining. Chris is a good sprinter.

But that snake...
I needed to refill my water, so we dropped Brandon between the 1000' marker and Diablo Ranch, and headed for the Ranger Station at the junction. As I refilled, there was a commotion about a snake on the other side of the building. I wanted to see.

Everyone was looking at this...


So I looked under the bench...



Ummm...

I think ...

if I was the Park Ranger ...

I might have found a long stick.
...Run along now little buddy.

Bike - Hike - Bike

Saturday morning was supposed to be a Bridge to Bridge ride with "the old guys" who meet at 8am near Mt. Wanda. (They are all over 40 which is going to be "old" to me for at least 8 more years)

Other obligations loomed, so I ditched the old guys and biked to a hike along the Carquinez Strait at 6:00 am. I rode to our meeting spot with the lights on my mountain bike, since they were still mounted from my commute ride last week. (My previous ride home from work had taken me through some intense road construction on my usual route, so I wanted to avoid a spill while navigating back the next morning in the dark with 700 x 23 tires. Hence the lights on the MTB)

Matt passed me in his truck on the way there, but I believe I arrived right at 6:00am.
We hustled to the top of the ridge, so I could get some shots of the awakening delta and Diablo valley.

This shot seems to have jumped right out of the pages of a J. R. R. Tolkien novel.
I didn't realize Martinez looked so ominous in the early dawn.

I finished my morning by riding as hard as I could over the Benicia Bridge and back. Not much of a workout, but it burned. Home by 9:20am
12 miles on the bike - 8 miles hiking.

We might coordinate a similar adventure this Saturday, since I'm watching the girls while Bec has a ladies brunch. Briones at 6am anyone?

Taking it Slower

It's been pretty slow the last few weeks. At least when it comes to my cycling.

Spring and early summer were busy with training rides - getting in shape for the Death Ride, Santa Cruz Mts. Challenge, and just generally trying to get into the best shape I could. Since the end of the SCMC, I've laid off a little and focused on some other more domestic challenges.

Build shelves for Ella's school notebooks...

Clean up the flower beds, garden, and yard...

Remove everything from the laundry room in order to extricate the stacked washer and dryer. Washer had gone kaput and needed new struts and springs. Remove everything again when the washing machine leaked... Call me if you want to know an appliance repair company NOT to use...

I'm also well into a new gate for the back yard. So far it has been completely free (If you don't count the blisters on my hands from the digging bar as being a cost) - using scraps and salvage from other fences and construction sites around the Bay Area. My employees typically don't see me sorting through the stuff that they haul back to the yard from their job sites

I had to draw the gates first so that Bec and I could decide how it would be designed. Nothing is as simple as it would seem around here.

Here is the concept... Bec wanted the solar lights on the outside posts. Bought them at Home Depot - $40 for the pair. At least we are able to be content with the lower lighting of solar - I really don't want to do the whole underground wiring, new breaker, conduit, realize you short circuited the laundry room thing.

The gates will come along soon - when I either collect enough material or break down and purchase a few 2x4's and fence boards. Then I'll stain it to match the rest of the fences.

But I have been riding some...

Chris and a new guy Nick were riding in Briones on Friday, so Vince and I joined for a few hours.
Vince has gotten stronger in the last few weeks. Seems he has met a girl that is stronger than he is... She beats him to the top of Briones regularly... Well, now he's pushing me. Somehow I think the off season isn't going to be so off.

Chris had just ridden up Mt. Tamalpai from San Francisco and had sent some pictures. I've posted a sampling of them below because I thought they were definitely worth sharing.