My rider number will be 22 for this course. I've also just seen the updated page of the registered riders. Dave Glasgow is 21, and there's one last rider 23. My hope is that I might find someone to ride with in this group of 23. I know Dave will ride stronger than ever and go for a personal best--and I hope him the best as well. Russ Goodwin may be crewing for him, so it will be good to see Russ because his positive energy is contagious. Its good to have friends and other crews to ride with. Maybe Dave will help me thru part of the course and talk me thru any rough spots. I know the first 20 miles or more will be cold and dark. There's also a chance for rain in the forcast.
My hope is that we don't have conditions for Cochise that we did for the infamous 300 K Brevet back in Febuary 2005. It was on Hell of a ride--Mike Alexa, Steve, Rich Combs, Susan France, and myself--all struggling to finish. Paul Layton was with us for a time too, but went on ahead as he didn't know we had more flats. My tire came apart on Oracle Rd, but luckily I knew there was a bike shop just down the road. I went into the bike shop and got a new tire, and tried desperately to catch-up as the Lads went on ahead. I was in luck because the 300 course went thru areas I knew--but the main thing was to get with the pack before it got dark. Everyone to this day says how surprised they were when I rolled up and joined them. I rode like a mad-man to close that gap.
What I'm getting at is that it was a long, wet, cold, and frustrating ride. To be avoided!
Anyway, taking some thoughts from Steve, he says just to ride my ride--relax--Allure Libre, which is French for feel free to ride how you want... Fast. Slow. By yourself. With hot babes--what ever! Gerry Goode mentioned to me about not coming un-glued if shit happens. He says he's seen people come apart when they've flatted a tire. Take time to change the tire, but make use of the time off the bike to stretch and recover or eat something.
It is good to know that Linda will be near with the car and all the stuff we need. But the catch is that there is the temptation to quit and get a ride back if things go wrong. I will have to fight that temptation if thing go wrong--which undoubtedly the will at some point. The thing is to finish at all costs and I believe I will because everyone knows I'll be out there--they're thinking of me--and wishing me all the best.
Allure Libre, mes amis!
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Rain and Horses
Last night rain clouds loomed, so by 4pm I thought I'd better try and hit the road. When I went to get the bike out of the store room, the back tire was flat. So much for leaving early. I picked the chunks of glass out of the tire with twizers I carry, and I recall all the glass everywhere from the ride in. This flat could have been worse--I could have eventually flatted on a busy road while getting soaked. For now I just got on the road and got rained on.
The Rain was not quite enough to keep things cool, but enough that when I made it to the car, I had a thin layer of grime covering me.
But as I road by the UofA farms there on Mountian Ave and Prince, I could smell the fresh cut hay, and smell a hint of the horses down the road. I can sometime hear them and I think one day I'll ride over and see what's up with them.
I think it was yesterday morning when I was nearing where the Mountain bridge ends, and the bike path cuts through a wash and then onto Mountain Ave, where I saw the huge pile of horse shit right in the path. Most of the stables are on the other side and I see the animals there standing in their stalls looking half dead it seems. In the evenings coming home, sometimes I see young girls brushing them--but rarely do I see people riding. It would be like if you went out and bought a really expensive road bike and it just sat in the garage.
When I had my two horses I road them all the time--rain or shine--hot or cold. Kind of like biking, there's sweat, grime, shit, bugs--and the possibilty of breaking a collar bone or rib (I should know) but you're outside, with friends, and physically--and sometimes emotionally--you are invigorated by brushes with danger and your own dumb-luck.
Allure Libre!
The Rain was not quite enough to keep things cool, but enough that when I made it to the car, I had a thin layer of grime covering me.
But as I road by the UofA farms there on Mountian Ave and Prince, I could smell the fresh cut hay, and smell a hint of the horses down the road. I can sometime hear them and I think one day I'll ride over and see what's up with them.
I think it was yesterday morning when I was nearing where the Mountain bridge ends, and the bike path cuts through a wash and then onto Mountain Ave, where I saw the huge pile of horse shit right in the path. Most of the stables are on the other side and I see the animals there standing in their stalls looking half dead it seems. In the evenings coming home, sometimes I see young girls brushing them--but rarely do I see people riding. It would be like if you went out and bought a really expensive road bike and it just sat in the garage.
When I had my two horses I road them all the time--rain or shine--hot or cold. Kind of like biking, there's sweat, grime, shit, bugs--and the possibilty of breaking a collar bone or rib (I should know) but you're outside, with friends, and physically--and sometimes emotionally--you are invigorated by brushes with danger and your own dumb-luck.
Allure Libre!
Monday, October 03, 2005
The Sound and the Fury
I rode the LeMonde to work this morning--not to knock my trusty commuter bike, but DAMN--the LeMonde is a sweet bike. I rode in fast--got into a groove--every shit heel was rolling thru the stop signs it seems! Had to watch out!
I tested out my light system I borrowed from Steve last night--it works sweet. Now I must buy one! Yes I must!
Nice and cool in the mornings. For the 252, Gerry Goode says keep the warm clothes on until Benson!
Owt!
I tested out my light system I borrowed from Steve last night--it works sweet. Now I must buy one! Yes I must!
Nice and cool in the mornings. For the 252, Gerry Goode says keep the warm clothes on until Benson!
Owt!
Sunday, October 02, 2005
Vaja con dios
Early this Sunday morning, after an hour of cardio/throwing the ball for the dog... I drove up to Casa Grande to meet Steve. We had breakfast at Cracker Barrel aka Crap in Barrel, and then we hooked up Steve's Schmit Hub to my LeMond--and it worked!
The hub is a dynamo in the wheel that when spins, creates power to run a head light. It is beautiful and simple, but an expensive piece of equipement. Its basically the Rolex of light systems. Steve has loaned it to me and the advantage is more mental than being able to see where I'm going. I just feel safer, Gentle Reader.
When the sun comes up, I remove the hub, which is built into a special wheel, and put back on my regular wheel.
I also have a set of wheels as backup, the plan being if I get a flat, it might be faster for my crew to pull up and switch out the wheel.
Vincent is an old guy that lurks in my library. He's old as dirt but a good fellow. He is a French, English, and American literture scholar--as well as a scholar of the Crusades and other Catholic Church debauchery. Years ago when he studied in Paris, he watched Le Tour de France. So he's always interested in my cycling exploits.
So I told him about the Cochise Classic coming up this weekend. "Vaja con dios" he said. "Go with God..."
Allure Libre!
The hub is a dynamo in the wheel that when spins, creates power to run a head light. It is beautiful and simple, but an expensive piece of equipement. Its basically the Rolex of light systems. Steve has loaned it to me and the advantage is more mental than being able to see where I'm going. I just feel safer, Gentle Reader.
When the sun comes up, I remove the hub, which is built into a special wheel, and put back on my regular wheel.
I also have a set of wheels as backup, the plan being if I get a flat, it might be faster for my crew to pull up and switch out the wheel.
Vincent is an old guy that lurks in my library. He's old as dirt but a good fellow. He is a French, English, and American literture scholar--as well as a scholar of the Crusades and other Catholic Church debauchery. Years ago when he studied in Paris, he watched Le Tour de France. So he's always interested in my cycling exploits.
So I told him about the Cochise Classic coming up this weekend. "Vaja con dios" he said. "Go with God..."
Allure Libre!
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Legends, Superstitions, and Ruins: or Big Bad Brevet
Legends, Superstitions, and Ruins. My first permanate--created by Paul Layton up in Mesa. Many firsts here, mes amis! First of all, as stated, first permanate, the first to offically ride it--that would be Paul, Susan, Steve, and Yours--that's kind of a cool thing. Oh, and my first time to ride with "The Flame!" Susan Plonsky--our beloved RBA. And I think Paul's first brevet with his new recumbant. Oh, and my first time to almost have my shit together...
So Paul has made this permanate and Steve thinks it would be fun to ride. Susan will be riding--she's done Boston Montreal Boston--and a few weeks later done the Last Chance in Colorado. Two 1200 K brevets in two weeks... Dang--
Susan "The Flame!" Plonsky, here at the start of the 200K.
Regarde, mes amis! Celebrity rider and legend, Steve Jewel.
The Superstitions loom as we quickly leave the city of Mesa behind us.
Commander Paul Layton avec Le Velo. Time for pictuers...
And repairs...
Climbing up the road. Scenic and beautiful. The mountain air is fresh and cool. These mountains are new to me--only on a bike can you enjoy the colours and exciting views at every turn!
The Flame and Commander set the pace up the mountain!
At the rim of Canyon Lake.
A sweet climb, and now down into the canyon to the 2nd Controle.
Across the bridge...
We'll be on the road seen here, and just over is the controle.
We get to the controle--then, I realize that we have to turn around and climb back out! The controle is where the road ends, mes amis! The joke is on me. I was too busy enjoying the ride to really study the que sheet...
As Susan said, we are now doing a truely Arizona Brevet--long stretches of road thru the desert.
On our way to Coolidge, AZ the tempature is easily 105 degrees.
Paul leading the way. Our next stop will be near Casa Grande Nat'l Monument.
Not really on the brevet route, but if the RBA says we're gonna stop and see the Ruins, well, we're gonna stop and see the Ruins, Baby!
Only a few minutes to ponder the site.
There's a big freakin' Walmart across the street from this site. Irony is in the air, but I'm not sure what to say.
Well, the brevet so far has been sweet--but its still September and still hot. I'm sure its at least 105 or hotter. For Steve and I--the ride starts to become a challenge of survival!
Okay, you guys know me--so I won't be shy... On SR87, for the next 24 miles--The Runs begin. I'm doing okay--then suddenly I feel that I'm going to shit my shorts. I need to get off the bike and find some bushes. I need to find bushes that will hide my very lound bike shorts--the bright blue yellow and orange shorts you can see from five miles away--and I need to find it fast. I let Steve know I'm pulling over--I'll catch up.
Paul will forgive me I'm sure, but I had to use my brevet map for TP. I was sure not to use my que sheet, just in case I got left far behind--but I'm back in the saddle, feeling good, and crankin' to get back with the group. They're up ahead; Susan has a flat. Steve and I help out and just as we're getting ready to roll--that feeling comes over me. "You guys go on, I'll catch up."
I catch up but I'm weak--I can bearly keep up. Steve is hanging back to see if I'm okay--Susan keeps going. Paul has had to break away because he promised the wife he'd be home by a certain time. I tell Steve to at least wait for me at the turn off for the Hunt Hwy--because, Gentle Reader, I am in trouble. The Runs are taking their toll--I've had to stop five times. As I try to catch up with Steve, the thought of eating and drinking makes me dizzy.
Dazed and a little confused, I see Steve at SR87 and the Hunt Hwy--this is a good sign because I may have made a wrong turn or kept going straight had he not been there waiting for me...
I also feel better because now I suddenly know where I am--Steve and I had been on this road when we did our Marana-Scottsdale-Marana ride. Earlier in the day Steve had pointed out the road we took down from Casa Grande to SR87 to get to the Hunt Hwy. My head cleared a little.
Okay, we need water and food. I ask a young woman waiting at a light there at the intersection where the nearest gas station is (because we are at the edge of the middle of nowhere in the desert) and she points down the road two stop lights.
We're only off course two blocks, and lucky for us, the attendant at the gas station and food mart is friendly--and we ice up and drink water from the pop machines (always ice cold) and I start to recover... The Runs are not bugging me, but could at anytime. It would be difficult to find a place to go if I had to pull over now that we're back in civilization--or at the edge at least.
Its time to finish this brevet!
But there are other problems... Steve has got heat exhaustion, and says it will be difficult for him to keep going. He tells me I should keep going and finish, but I have to hurry because it will be getting dark--and I have a little over 20 miles to go. I don't have any lights. What we thought would be a 125 mile brevet was actually becoming a 140 mile brevet.
I would get to my car, and go back and pick up Steve--so I rolled out to beat the clock and beat the sunset.
All I can say is that I road at a steady pace, about 18 MPH, for the 14.9 miles to the next turn, which would be a home stretch to the controle at just about 5 miles. I think I road pretty good for a guy who'd had the runs--and as the sun was setting behind my back, all the refectors on my bike, and on my Camelbak were glowing bright--so that made me feel better--I could be seen by traffic. This gave me confidence that I could finish and not get busted by the cops for not having lights. Paul pulled up beside me in his van--I told him I was going to make it, but Steve was back a few miles. Paul would go check on him, and find him; now it was just up to me to finish. I can remember being disoriented a few times--slipping into the Funk--but I was close, so close!
Just as the sun set, mes amis, I rolled into the parking lot of Albertson's--but not before making a very difficult and dangerous left turn into the controle from the busy street I was on. Traffic was heavy and there was only one little gap--so I went--made it!
Epiloge to the Brevet
Holy shit! That was tough...
So Paul has made this permanate and Steve thinks it would be fun to ride. Susan will be riding--she's done Boston Montreal Boston--and a few weeks later done the Last Chance in Colorado. Two 1200 K brevets in two weeks... Dang--
Susan "The Flame!" Plonsky, here at the start of the 200K.
Regarde, mes amis! Celebrity rider and legend, Steve Jewel.
The Superstitions loom as we quickly leave the city of Mesa behind us.
Commander Paul Layton avec Le Velo. Time for pictuers...
And repairs...
Climbing up the road. Scenic and beautiful. The mountain air is fresh and cool. These mountains are new to me--only on a bike can you enjoy the colours and exciting views at every turn!
The Flame and Commander set the pace up the mountain!
At the rim of Canyon Lake.
A sweet climb, and now down into the canyon to the 2nd Controle.
Across the bridge...
We'll be on the road seen here, and just over is the controle.
We get to the controle--then, I realize that we have to turn around and climb back out! The controle is where the road ends, mes amis! The joke is on me. I was too busy enjoying the ride to really study the que sheet...
As Susan said, we are now doing a truely Arizona Brevet--long stretches of road thru the desert.
On our way to Coolidge, AZ the tempature is easily 105 degrees.
Paul leading the way. Our next stop will be near Casa Grande Nat'l Monument.
Not really on the brevet route, but if the RBA says we're gonna stop and see the Ruins, well, we're gonna stop and see the Ruins, Baby!
Only a few minutes to ponder the site.
There's a big freakin' Walmart across the street from this site. Irony is in the air, but I'm not sure what to say.
Well, the brevet so far has been sweet--but its still September and still hot. I'm sure its at least 105 or hotter. For Steve and I--the ride starts to become a challenge of survival!
Okay, you guys know me--so I won't be shy... On SR87, for the next 24 miles--The Runs begin. I'm doing okay--then suddenly I feel that I'm going to shit my shorts. I need to get off the bike and find some bushes. I need to find bushes that will hide my very lound bike shorts--the bright blue yellow and orange shorts you can see from five miles away--and I need to find it fast. I let Steve know I'm pulling over--I'll catch up.
Paul will forgive me I'm sure, but I had to use my brevet map for TP. I was sure not to use my que sheet, just in case I got left far behind--but I'm back in the saddle, feeling good, and crankin' to get back with the group. They're up ahead; Susan has a flat. Steve and I help out and just as we're getting ready to roll--that feeling comes over me. "You guys go on, I'll catch up."
I catch up but I'm weak--I can bearly keep up. Steve is hanging back to see if I'm okay--Susan keeps going. Paul has had to break away because he promised the wife he'd be home by a certain time. I tell Steve to at least wait for me at the turn off for the Hunt Hwy--because, Gentle Reader, I am in trouble. The Runs are taking their toll--I've had to stop five times. As I try to catch up with Steve, the thought of eating and drinking makes me dizzy.
Dazed and a little confused, I see Steve at SR87 and the Hunt Hwy--this is a good sign because I may have made a wrong turn or kept going straight had he not been there waiting for me...
I also feel better because now I suddenly know where I am--Steve and I had been on this road when we did our Marana-Scottsdale-Marana ride. Earlier in the day Steve had pointed out the road we took down from Casa Grande to SR87 to get to the Hunt Hwy. My head cleared a little.
Okay, we need water and food. I ask a young woman waiting at a light there at the intersection where the nearest gas station is (because we are at the edge of the middle of nowhere in the desert) and she points down the road two stop lights.
We're only off course two blocks, and lucky for us, the attendant at the gas station and food mart is friendly--and we ice up and drink water from the pop machines (always ice cold) and I start to recover... The Runs are not bugging me, but could at anytime. It would be difficult to find a place to go if I had to pull over now that we're back in civilization--or at the edge at least.
Its time to finish this brevet!
But there are other problems... Steve has got heat exhaustion, and says it will be difficult for him to keep going. He tells me I should keep going and finish, but I have to hurry because it will be getting dark--and I have a little over 20 miles to go. I don't have any lights. What we thought would be a 125 mile brevet was actually becoming a 140 mile brevet.
I would get to my car, and go back and pick up Steve--so I rolled out to beat the clock and beat the sunset.
All I can say is that I road at a steady pace, about 18 MPH, for the 14.9 miles to the next turn, which would be a home stretch to the controle at just about 5 miles. I think I road pretty good for a guy who'd had the runs--and as the sun was setting behind my back, all the refectors on my bike, and on my Camelbak were glowing bright--so that made me feel better--I could be seen by traffic. This gave me confidence that I could finish and not get busted by the cops for not having lights. Paul pulled up beside me in his van--I told him I was going to make it, but Steve was back a few miles. Paul would go check on him, and find him; now it was just up to me to finish. I can remember being disoriented a few times--slipping into the Funk--but I was close, so close!
Just as the sun set, mes amis, I rolled into the parking lot of Albertson's--but not before making a very difficult and dangerous left turn into the controle from the busy street I was on. Traffic was heavy and there was only one little gap--so I went--made it!
Epiloge to the Brevet
Holy shit! That was tough...
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Cochise Classic
It is official--I have sent in my name and fee to ride the Cochise County Classic. It will be 252 miles--what have I done? How much will I suffer? Will I suffer? I've been randonneering and these distances have not been too bad. So what am I afraid of?
Shitting myself for one thing...
Everything it seems has built up to this ride; a rite of passage--I've been talkin smack and now its time to do it. Luckily, I will have Linda on my crew--she will know what to do--And if not for Steve, who has gotten me to train on some pretty long and tough rides, I would not even have the courage to even attempt such a ride.
I haven't really had any support from Bev on this--she was waiting for me to talk myself out of it. But whether I want to or not--I will be on the start at 2 a.m. October 8th, 2005
Recently a friend gave me a goodluck charm--on the Solstice--so I take that as a good sign and will carry this charm on the ride.
I may finish last--but I will finish!
Cheers!
Shitting myself for one thing...
Everything it seems has built up to this ride; a rite of passage--I've been talkin smack and now its time to do it. Luckily, I will have Linda on my crew--she will know what to do--And if not for Steve, who has gotten me to train on some pretty long and tough rides, I would not even have the courage to even attempt such a ride.
I haven't really had any support from Bev on this--she was waiting for me to talk myself out of it. But whether I want to or not--I will be on the start at 2 a.m. October 8th, 2005
Recently a friend gave me a goodluck charm--on the Solstice--so I take that as a good sign and will carry this charm on the ride.
I may finish last--but I will finish!
Cheers!
Monday, September 19, 2005
Almost a short ride this morning...
Well, mes amis--I am at the golf course parking lot. The car is parked under the shady trees so it will be nice and cool on my return home. As usual, the rabbits are hoping around--they pay no mind to me--and the birds are singing and gathering in their gangs for mischief.
I am in the saddle, ready to roll. I clip in one shoe--I clip in the other shoe and I roll about two feet, and then HOLY SHIT!
This Old Lady, in a hurry, driving a big-arse SUV fuckin pulls her vehicle to park right next to my car--and comes one inch from freakin running over my sorry ass! I mean she didn't even flinch! I thought I was dead.
She had no clue I was even standing there. There were some other golfing ladies, probably her friends, that were standing a few cars over--and they just stood there with their mouths open in disbelief!
Okay. So what am I going to do--get in this Old Lady's face? Nah. What's the point? It wouldn't make any difference. I could kind of tell by the look on the Old Lady's friends' faces that they know she's a bad driver--and one day is going to kill someone.
So take a deep breath and get to work... Because I'm running a little later than usual, there is traffic--and people are getting their butts to work. I'm actually going faster than traffic. A guy driving a big cement truck slows and gives me plenty of room to get past--as he can see me coming up from behind in his rear-view mirror. The bike lane is narrow. I pass and give him a wave.
I'm glad someone's paying attention.
Cheers!
I am in the saddle, ready to roll. I clip in one shoe--I clip in the other shoe and I roll about two feet, and then HOLY SHIT!
This Old Lady, in a hurry, driving a big-arse SUV fuckin pulls her vehicle to park right next to my car--and comes one inch from freakin running over my sorry ass! I mean she didn't even flinch! I thought I was dead.
She had no clue I was even standing there. There were some other golfing ladies, probably her friends, that were standing a few cars over--and they just stood there with their mouths open in disbelief!
Okay. So what am I going to do--get in this Old Lady's face? Nah. What's the point? It wouldn't make any difference. I could kind of tell by the look on the Old Lady's friends' faces that they know she's a bad driver--and one day is going to kill someone.
So take a deep breath and get to work... Because I'm running a little later than usual, there is traffic--and people are getting their butts to work. I'm actually going faster than traffic. A guy driving a big cement truck slows and gives me plenty of room to get past--as he can see me coming up from behind in his rear-view mirror. The bike lane is narrow. I pass and give him a wave.
I'm glad someone's paying attention.
Cheers!
Thursday, September 15, 2005
New Easier to Read Flog
I rode in all the way from Marana this morning--all 21 miles. Bev has to be on Main Campus, and we will meet after work, have dinner, and then we'll drive home.
As I approached UMC and the library, turning off on one of the side streets to zip into the office, suddenly there where about eight young women riding their bikes to Main Campus--yes, eight--all young and pretty. Of course I took this as a sign from the bike god, Velo Torr, and joined them. "Good morning, Ladies!" and they were all smiles and said good morning and my goodness all of them were so cute. I suddenly felt like a big sweaty brute compared to these stately just-showered, on-their-way-to-the-university-to-rock-the-world beauties.
Why didn't I just keep riding with them to where-ever? I didn't have to be on the ref desk right at 8 a.m. Just a creature of habit I guess--next time--NEXT TIME
"Hello Ladies. I am called Bruce!"
Allure Libre, mes amis!
As I approached UMC and the library, turning off on one of the side streets to zip into the office, suddenly there where about eight young women riding their bikes to Main Campus--yes, eight--all young and pretty. Of course I took this as a sign from the bike god, Velo Torr, and joined them. "Good morning, Ladies!" and they were all smiles and said good morning and my goodness all of them were so cute. I suddenly felt like a big sweaty brute compared to these stately just-showered, on-their-way-to-the-university-to-rock-the-world beauties.
Why didn't I just keep riding with them to where-ever? I didn't have to be on the ref desk right at 8 a.m. Just a creature of habit I guess--next time--NEXT TIME
"Hello Ladies. I am called Bruce!"
Allure Libre, mes amis!
Monday, September 12, 2005
Ride Report
My new parking spot... (sigh)
On Thornydale I met up with a fellow commuter named Scott. It was nice to have two bikes on Thornydale and Orangegrove--where everyone turns onto I-10. With two of you, you can be seen better by motorists and you feel a little safer.
With gas at or over $3.00 a gallon, Scott figured he could save some money--plus, recent events of the war, and Katrina, and the price gouging from the oil companies had left a bad taste in his mouth, so he wanted to get back on his bike. He only has to ride 7 miles.
Last night before going home I locked my U-lock to the rack. That way I didn't have to carry it with me this morning. I am such a clever boy!
Cheers!
Sunday, September 11, 2005
John Heller Rides Again
Dave calls and will be by my place in Marana, and we'll do a quick spin up to the Pichacho Peak Dairy Queen. I'm feeling the legs after Dave and I rode 56 miles Friday to Saguaro. The gams feel like tree trunks... I'm expecting Dave anytime, and then the cell rings--Its John Heller--cool. They're at I-10 and Tangerine, so I head off to meet them.
DoctorJohnHeller sez, "Can you feel the LUV, my People!"
There's like the most awesome tail wind, and we take off in a tight pace line. With the help from the tail wind, we're riding 27, 28 mph!
The spout of John's camelbak comes off while he's drinking from it, and water splurts everywhere. We stop--Glasgow keeps going, unaware of our stop. We find the tip and pick it up again...
Dave stopped at Red Rock, and we actually passed him. We stop to let Dave re-group with us.
I gotta tell ya, we are flat out flyin' --damn!
The Peak from Dairy Queen.
So you know that the ride back is going to be torture. But we set up in an aileron, or wing position, and we actually ride about 19 mph thru the crosswind. John and I are trying to keep up with Glasgow but he's too strong. After about 10 miles, John drops off, and after about another 3 or 4, I'm just too tired and I drop back.
We re-group at the Marana Circle K , a job well done. John and Dave head South back into Tucson, and I head East up Tangerine. That will be a 6 mile climb home for me and its always tough.
Later that evening, Bev talks me out of meeting the Lads for the first El Tour training ride--at 6 a.m. Sunday morning. Instead she talks me into a steak dinner at "A Taste of Texas."
I have a thick steak, baked potato, and a 24 once glass of Dos XX lager. I might also mention I can barely walk at this point. But the Randonneur is not undaunted! And so what if a little beer sloshes on his shirt?
"The Force will be with you--Always..."
Regional Brevet Administrator, Susan Plonksy,
at the start of the 600 K, Casa Grande, AZ, April, 2005.
owt
DoctorJohnHeller sez, "Can you feel the LUV, my People!"
There's like the most awesome tail wind, and we take off in a tight pace line. With the help from the tail wind, we're riding 27, 28 mph!
The spout of John's camelbak comes off while he's drinking from it, and water splurts everywhere. We stop--Glasgow keeps going, unaware of our stop. We find the tip and pick it up again...
Dave stopped at Red Rock, and we actually passed him. We stop to let Dave re-group with us.
I gotta tell ya, we are flat out flyin' --damn!
The Peak from Dairy Queen.
So you know that the ride back is going to be torture. But we set up in an aileron, or wing position, and we actually ride about 19 mph thru the crosswind. John and I are trying to keep up with Glasgow but he's too strong. After about 10 miles, John drops off, and after about another 3 or 4, I'm just too tired and I drop back.
We re-group at the Marana Circle K , a job well done. John and Dave head South back into Tucson, and I head East up Tangerine. That will be a 6 mile climb home for me and its always tough.
Later that evening, Bev talks me out of meeting the Lads for the first El Tour training ride--at 6 a.m. Sunday morning. Instead she talks me into a steak dinner at "A Taste of Texas."
I have a thick steak, baked potato, and a 24 once glass of Dos XX lager. I might also mention I can barely walk at this point. But the Randonneur is not undaunted! And so what if a little beer sloshes on his shirt?
"The Force will be with you--Always..."
Regional Brevet Administrator, Susan Plonksy,
at the start of the 600 K, Casa Grande, AZ, April, 2005.
owt
Friday, September 09, 2005
Rattlesnake Ride
Did a good ride out to Saguaro Nat'l Park from Dave Glasgow's house.
We rode up Broadway to the park--Dave riding very fast--he blew thru a light and I just took it easy and did not want to chase after him. Traffic was light, and the sunrise was beautiful. Fall is around the corner, mes amis.
Leaving from Dave's house early Friday morning.
Up Broadway, then up Old Spanish Trail.
Other cyclists are out enjoying the cool desert morning.
I'm at the entrance to the Park. Oh yeah, my seasonal pass expired August--and the ride-in fee for bikes has gone up from $3.00 to $5.00--and the annual pass has gone up to $25.00 But that's okay.
The "Lephrechan" Mr. Dave Glasgow, chillin' at the Ramada in the Park. A personal best for him this morning. He flew up Broadway to the Park in like 49 minutes or less. I'm not sure the exact time... I'll edit later.
Ready to start some loops.
As we're on the loop, I see a nice fat rattlesnake making his way across the road. It won't be the last one I see today.
Anyway, I catch up with the "Wobblies" as they call themselves. A bunch of old farts who do laps to stay fit. Most of them are okay fellas, and they do one or two laps. But there are a few men, like Jim and Hal, who are hard-core cyclists in there late 70's. Make no mistake; they are fit and seasoned warriors.
Jim and Hal ready for another lap, and planning a hike in the Rincons, or a ride up Mt. Lemmon or Kitt Peak--heck, why not both after one more lap here in the Park!
The "Wobblies" chillin'
On lab two, hey! It's Robert.
Robert is riding strong as ever. I can't keep up with him...
We see another rattlesnake, and I think we see a king snake.
Robert heads out back home. Lator, Dude!
After lap 3, Dave and I meet Shelly. This lady Shelly has a $7,000.00 ride. Check it out.
She was telling us that she once rode 350 miles in one day--24hrs? Yeah? 24hrs--in Colorado even--mountains and junk!
Shelly had the bike, the clothes, but there was something else--
There are only three people I know who can ride that distance in that amount of time:
Russ Goodwin. He won Team RAAM in 2003.
A picture I took a few years ago of Russ training for RAAM. I crewed for him as he rode the John Farr Double Century course, twice, in 37 hours.
Of course, Mr. Gerry Goode, Randonneuring Legend, and Dave Glasgow--standing under the Ramada with Yours Truly...
My new Lance Armstrong Tour de France helmet Bev bought for me. The guy at the bike shop told me it had been wind tunnel tested and was way-aerodynamic. Also supposed to keep your head cooler, and give you longer- harder erections!
Ce'est un piece d'art, mes amis!
Well, time to roll back to Dave's house over by UofA. As we're leaving, we meet these really cool folks. I can't recall there names, sorry! But after Ms. 350 miles in 24 hrs, its nice to know that there are groovey cats like them to be found! Allure Libre!
Bon jour la bon jour!
She had a sweet hand-built bike from Rivendale, with the Dove tail style handle bars...
His recumbant bike. Oh--I messed up the pictuer! Sorry!
No Rattlesnakes were harmed in the writing of this flog-
Lator!
We rode up Broadway to the park--Dave riding very fast--he blew thru a light and I just took it easy and did not want to chase after him. Traffic was light, and the sunrise was beautiful. Fall is around the corner, mes amis.
Leaving from Dave's house early Friday morning.
Up Broadway, then up Old Spanish Trail.
Other cyclists are out enjoying the cool desert morning.
I'm at the entrance to the Park. Oh yeah, my seasonal pass expired August--and the ride-in fee for bikes has gone up from $3.00 to $5.00--and the annual pass has gone up to $25.00 But that's okay.
The "Lephrechan" Mr. Dave Glasgow, chillin' at the Ramada in the Park. A personal best for him this morning. He flew up Broadway to the Park in like 49 minutes or less. I'm not sure the exact time... I'll edit later.
Ready to start some loops.
As we're on the loop, I see a nice fat rattlesnake making his way across the road. It won't be the last one I see today.
Anyway, I catch up with the "Wobblies" as they call themselves. A bunch of old farts who do laps to stay fit. Most of them are okay fellas, and they do one or two laps. But there are a few men, like Jim and Hal, who are hard-core cyclists in there late 70's. Make no mistake; they are fit and seasoned warriors.
Jim and Hal ready for another lap, and planning a hike in the Rincons, or a ride up Mt. Lemmon or Kitt Peak--heck, why not both after one more lap here in the Park!
The "Wobblies" chillin'
On lab two, hey! It's Robert.
Robert is riding strong as ever. I can't keep up with him...
We see another rattlesnake, and I think we see a king snake.
Robert heads out back home. Lator, Dude!
After lap 3, Dave and I meet Shelly. This lady Shelly has a $7,000.00 ride. Check it out.
She was telling us that she once rode 350 miles in one day--24hrs? Yeah? 24hrs--in Colorado even--mountains and junk!
Shelly had the bike, the clothes, but there was something else--
There are only three people I know who can ride that distance in that amount of time:
Russ Goodwin. He won Team RAAM in 2003.
A picture I took a few years ago of Russ training for RAAM. I crewed for him as he rode the John Farr Double Century course, twice, in 37 hours.
Of course, Mr. Gerry Goode, Randonneuring Legend, and Dave Glasgow--standing under the Ramada with Yours Truly...
My new Lance Armstrong Tour de France helmet Bev bought for me. The guy at the bike shop told me it had been wind tunnel tested and was way-aerodynamic. Also supposed to keep your head cooler, and give you longer- harder erections!
Ce'est un piece d'art, mes amis!
Well, time to roll back to Dave's house over by UofA. As we're leaving, we meet these really cool folks. I can't recall there names, sorry! But after Ms. 350 miles in 24 hrs, its nice to know that there are groovey cats like them to be found! Allure Libre!
Bon jour la bon jour!
She had a sweet hand-built bike from Rivendale, with the Dove tail style handle bars...
His recumbant bike. Oh--I messed up the pictuer! Sorry!
No Rattlesnakes were harmed in the writing of this flog-
Lator!
Sunday, September 04, 2005
Shoot Out on Mountain
Biking home, I was cruising, or getting ready to cruise down Mtn Ave when I started passing all the cars--which means something's up.
Lots of people, mainly students, looking a little shocked/intense--I'm getting closer and see cop cars with lights--and them an ambulance--and then heavily armed SWAT.
Everything is frozen--and I'm gliding through like a knife. SWAT guys stand in the road holding back traffic. They signal me to stop. Then they look at each other, and wave me through, and I go through very slowly. Everyone is frozen and and looking like they can't believe what they've just seen. SWAT guy looks at me as I pass. His face says don't look, but I look--and this is the real deal. Dead man in the street. Blood. Cops with the stare in their eyes.
Must have been something heavy that just went down. Luckily I was not there when it happened--car chase probably down the bike lane until the guy pulled into the side street--then all Hell breakin loose...
Because all traffic was held up--the road was mine. But I had a sick uneasy feeling. Death was certainly about that late afternoon. The bike gives you a different perspective-- Creeps me out just thinking about it...
Lots of people, mainly students, looking a little shocked/intense--I'm getting closer and see cop cars with lights--and them an ambulance--and then heavily armed SWAT.
Everything is frozen--and I'm gliding through like a knife. SWAT guys stand in the road holding back traffic. They signal me to stop. Then they look at each other, and wave me through, and I go through very slowly. Everyone is frozen and and looking like they can't believe what they've just seen. SWAT guy looks at me as I pass. His face says don't look, but I look--and this is the real deal. Dead man in the street. Blood. Cops with the stare in their eyes.
Must have been something heavy that just went down. Luckily I was not there when it happened--car chase probably down the bike lane until the guy pulled into the side street--then all Hell breakin loose...
Because all traffic was held up--the road was mine. But I had a sick uneasy feeling. Death was certainly about that late afternoon. The bike gives you a different perspective-- Creeps me out just thinking about it...
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Shout-Out to My Hommies in the 2nd Grade
I wanted to mention that while on the commute up Mountain Ave. to work, there's often some kids waiting for their school bus. They like to hold out their hands and I give them the "Hight-Five"
They sit by the road, looking bored as Hell--then when they recognize me, they jump up and stand out in the street and hold out their hands as I'm coming by.
I did the ride home last night--only 103. Ride home was fast. I passed most of the traffic lumbering along. I saw a fellow with a really sweet 2005 Mustang--gave the guy the thumbs-up, and he smiled in appreciation.
Cool... Owt
They sit by the road, looking bored as Hell--then when they recognize me, they jump up and stand out in the street and hold out their hands as I'm coming by.
I did the ride home last night--only 103. Ride home was fast. I passed most of the traffic lumbering along. I saw a fellow with a really sweet 2005 Mustang--gave the guy the thumbs-up, and he smiled in appreciation.
Cool... Owt
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
The Day I Knew Would Come, or, Mean People Suck
UAPD put out a warning to all skateboarders and bicyclists that they were enforcing a no-tolorance policy about "hot dogging" on campus. That would mean skateboarders doing tricks, and dudes with those BMX-type bikes would be arrested if caught grinding on handrails and walls, and on sculpture, etc. The bulletin wasn't geared toward students biking on campus or commuters.
However, I believe my supervisor, whom I don't really care for very much, saw a chance to be mean and suggested to the library director that I be forbidden to have my bike parked here in the office. Supposedly he sent me an email to that effect, which I never saw.
This morning my supervisor came banging on my door and made some comments about my bike. Naturally I was suspicious and I didn't know what email she was talking about. Our director came by and I asked him about it--about an hour later, the email showed up.
Anyway, I told him it would take a couple of days for me to come up with an alternate plan so he will let me lock the bike in a store room downstairs.
Last year I tried to get a bike locker but I was told they were for UMC employees only. I'll have one of my friends that works at UMC see if they can rent the locker and I'll use it for my bike.
Actually I knew this day would come, but not under these circumstances--at least I didn't or haven't got a fine yet--there were those two fat bitches I wrote about a few weeks ago, you know, the two women that are so fat they have to use the freight elevator to get back and forth from their offices. Yeah, mean people suck...
I did have a strong commute home last night--nothing to report there--and this morning, the ride was good and I felt strong. I actually road a few miles with two women out for a spin. They were very pleasant and on their way to breakfast. They asked me to join them--very cool of them--but I was on the desk for the early shift and had to decline.
So for every mean person, there's two nice ones just ahead.
Cheers!
However, I believe my supervisor, whom I don't really care for very much, saw a chance to be mean and suggested to the library director that I be forbidden to have my bike parked here in the office. Supposedly he sent me an email to that effect, which I never saw.
This morning my supervisor came banging on my door and made some comments about my bike. Naturally I was suspicious and I didn't know what email she was talking about. Our director came by and I asked him about it--about an hour later, the email showed up.
Anyway, I told him it would take a couple of days for me to come up with an alternate plan so he will let me lock the bike in a store room downstairs.
Last year I tried to get a bike locker but I was told they were for UMC employees only. I'll have one of my friends that works at UMC see if they can rent the locker and I'll use it for my bike.
Actually I knew this day would come, but not under these circumstances--at least I didn't or haven't got a fine yet--there were those two fat bitches I wrote about a few weeks ago, you know, the two women that are so fat they have to use the freight elevator to get back and forth from their offices. Yeah, mean people suck...
I did have a strong commute home last night--nothing to report there--and this morning, the ride was good and I felt strong. I actually road a few miles with two women out for a spin. They were very pleasant and on their way to breakfast. They asked me to join them--very cool of them--but I was on the desk for the early shift and had to decline.
So for every mean person, there's two nice ones just ahead.
Cheers!
Monday, August 29, 2005
Ride Report, Bebe!
Mes amis, you must know that school has started and all the students are back, and the library is a happenin' place. Girls are freakin' everywhere--I love this job!
Yes, I'm happy to report that I rode in today and all is well. My handle bars are loose on the Lemond, and I'm too lazy to fix them. Actually it was cool because they were just set the way they were set since put together. When they got loose I was able to experiment to find a comfy position--but I'll do that later when I have some time.
So I charged in on the Monsoon bike--I feel like such a stud when I pass the lines of cars waiting to go and then wait thru yet another light. See I left late and there was more traffic than I'm used to. It was 7am --usually I'm in my office by 7:05 am, so it was surprising to note how slow and backed-up traffic was. There was headwind worth mentioning, and I got tired of fighting, so I just relaxed...
I must tell you all that I got caught in a traffic jam on I-10 last night after work. It took me an hour to get home. There was construction, and then people in a hurry to be first through caused a minor fender-bender where traffic merged. Yeah, it sucked all right--then it began to feel like torture!
Anyway, I still don't have a final go-ahead to ride in the Cochise Classic from Bev. Time is running out to commit...
Stef told us a great story about the Saturday morning shoot-out. Where a few pros taunt the posers and run them into the ground. I should try it sometime as a change. I feel fit and able to ride the long brevets, and a 250 mile ride like Cochise, but it would be fun just to try it with Team Mooney--Stef and the lads would give me the low-down--so when I got dropped I'd know how to get back home...
I will do the El Tour training rides because there are cool and laid back riders to hang with--but I have to ride in a pack to get under 6 hours for El Tour--that is a goal that's worth doing. Right now my best time is about 6 hours and 40 minutes; a respectable time. I'm just not fast or fit enough to hang on to a paceline and get that good time.
So I'm off the subject--got to ride home soon... 107 outside... Hmmm... Do I have cold beer at home in the fridge? I hope so--it will taste good tonight.
Luv!
Yes, I'm happy to report that I rode in today and all is well. My handle bars are loose on the Lemond, and I'm too lazy to fix them. Actually it was cool because they were just set the way they were set since put together. When they got loose I was able to experiment to find a comfy position--but I'll do that later when I have some time.
So I charged in on the Monsoon bike--I feel like such a stud when I pass the lines of cars waiting to go and then wait thru yet another light. See I left late and there was more traffic than I'm used to. It was 7am --usually I'm in my office by 7:05 am, so it was surprising to note how slow and backed-up traffic was. There was headwind worth mentioning, and I got tired of fighting, so I just relaxed...
I must tell you all that I got caught in a traffic jam on I-10 last night after work. It took me an hour to get home. There was construction, and then people in a hurry to be first through caused a minor fender-bender where traffic merged. Yeah, it sucked all right--then it began to feel like torture!
Anyway, I still don't have a final go-ahead to ride in the Cochise Classic from Bev. Time is running out to commit...
Stef told us a great story about the Saturday morning shoot-out. Where a few pros taunt the posers and run them into the ground. I should try it sometime as a change. I feel fit and able to ride the long brevets, and a 250 mile ride like Cochise, but it would be fun just to try it with Team Mooney--Stef and the lads would give me the low-down--so when I got dropped I'd know how to get back home...
I will do the El Tour training rides because there are cool and laid back riders to hang with--but I have to ride in a pack to get under 6 hours for El Tour--that is a goal that's worth doing. Right now my best time is about 6 hours and 40 minutes; a respectable time. I'm just not fast or fit enough to hang on to a paceline and get that good time.
So I'm off the subject--got to ride home soon... 107 outside... Hmmm... Do I have cold beer at home in the fridge? I hope so--it will taste good tonight.
Luv!
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Sunburned Lips, but Undaunted!
Well, I want to say its been nice driving into work this week--but it has sucked. I just had shit to do and got sleepy and other excuses. But I do have two changes of clothes here in the office, so that will save me some time ironing! Ironing clothes is fuckedup--I hate it--I could be sleeping...
Somehow I ended up getting my lips sunburned--Geez, but its not fun. They're peeling. And everytime one of the guys has a wisecrack and I laugh, my lower lip splits open and bleeds--thought all of you would like to know that!
But does that stop the Randonneur from his sick pursuit of ulta distance? Non, jamais, mes amis, jamais! Other than being asleep at my desk for a few days, I am 100%
More adventures to come! Who knows who I may meet on the road!
Somehow I ended up getting my lips sunburned--Geez, but its not fun. They're peeling. And everytime one of the guys has a wisecrack and I laugh, my lower lip splits open and bleeds--thought all of you would like to know that!
But does that stop the Randonneur from his sick pursuit of ulta distance? Non, jamais, mes amis, jamais! Other than being asleep at my desk for a few days, I am 100%
More adventures to come! Who knows who I may meet on the road!
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Marana--Scottsdale--Marana
263 miles round trip.
Sorry, but the camera didn't work, so my prose will have to suffice, Gentle Readers...
This ride is the brain child of my friend Steve--a seasoned Randonneur, and two-time veteran of Paris-Brest-Paris, and other countless brevets... If you ever want to ride the long ride, you want Steve in your pace line. So here's my shout-out to Steve--Yo, Steve--Allure Libre, mon ami!
4 am Marana
Dogs freak out
Packed, and ready to roll--Callie, my dog, and Shasta, my neighbor's dog that I'm watching while they're away, can feel the excitement--or something. So they're outside and in the garage with me. My hope is they'll run around, get some exercise, and leave me to finish getting ready. One of my other neighbors appears, and starts up his motorcylce--at 4:30 am (Kind of odd actually) Callie and Shasta freak out and bark and growl and chase him as he speeds off. Great. I've woken up the whole block...
4:30 am
Steve arrives in the Mystery Van
Callie likes Steve--she barks--Shasta starts barking. It's more of a, "Hey Steve is here!" bark, and pretty loud... So whoever got woken up, went back to sleep--is now awake again.
4:45 am
Bev bids us farewell
5 am Marana
We roll out
Going down Tangerine to the Frontage Rd, we can ride about 28 to 30 mph for 6 miles. That's pretty cool (enjoi while we can) and there on the Frontage Rd, just as we turn to head North, Picacho Peak is visable about 27 miles in the distance. About 13 miles past the landmark will be breakfast...
Wish I had the camera. At sunrise, Picacho Peak is awesome, as are the Picacho Mts. Father Kino noted Picacho Peak when he first arrived in the area in 1775. I've also learned that near the Dairy Queen was the stagecoach stop in the 1870s. They went through Picacho Pass and turned left (West) and went on to San Francisco. (image borrowed from the web)
Welcome to Eloy -- Evil Eloy
There's an old legend about Eloy that goes like this: A guy gets off the train and takes one look at this shit hole and says, "Eloi! Eloi!" "Eloi" is supposedly the Spanish pronunciation of the biblical quotation, "Eli, Eli, Jama sabachthani?" meaning, "God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" Somewhere leaving Eloy on the way to CG, I ran over something sharp in the road and my rear tire blew. If you've been reading the blog this summer, you know my luck with blow-outs... To my dismay the rear tire is gashed. We are about 40 miles into our 130 mile leg. My brand new Continental set of tires I just bought($$$)--So now the rear tire is crap.
Eloy is an evil place. We change the tire. WHAM. The tire blows again... "Eloi! Eloi!" Okay, this time we use the dollar bill trick to keep the tube and tire in place. Keeping our spirts high, we decide we'll make it to breakfast and find a bike shop open--I'll buy a new tire and we'll get some more tubes. As we're leaving, I hit my head on the "Welcome to Eloy" sign. We had been using it for shade while we fixed the my tire--ouch! It hurt.
Casa Hop
When we reach Casa Grande, I see a UPS guy getting gas at a service station. He gives us directions to the bike shop, and the I-Hop, and the strip club--not really, just playing!
Bike Shop
Steve and I decide the tire will make it to Scottsdale, but we'll buy extra tubes. Steve says he'll loan me a tire for the return trip back to chez Marana. Really I think we just want to get rolling. The bike shop guys know Susan Plonsky, and they know we're the sick long-distance riders--they give us directions to get us up the road to where we'll catch the Casa Grande Century course, and on to Chandler, AZ.
Chandler, Arizona
Alexander John Chandler, 1859-1950, born in Canada--he was a veterinarian when he arrived in Arizona Territory. Later he had a large farm and citrus groves--no relation to my people. We ride the Casa Grande Century course on Hwy 87 for a good while--and we are riding strong and making good time. Other cyclists are out enjoying the cool morning. This part of Hwy 87 is probably the most scenic of our ride. Open desert, lots of giant saguaros, and rugged moutains in the distance. Traffic is light, and people driving don't seem to be in hurry.
Before long, I begin to recognize Chandler--we're getting into what used to be farm country. Developments are underway with nice homes and shopping malls--Circle K's begin to appear. It is worth noting that its late morning or going on very early afternoon--Friday--but as we buy ice and get water, etc, mexican laborers and guys like that are buying cases of cheap beer. Hopefully we won't meet up with them later on the road.
My moral is boosted by arriving in Chandler, but we still have a long way to go. I'm still confused about time and distance in the Pheonix area because I really don't know that much about it. South Mtn becomes a visable landmark.
100 Degrees +
I have one more flat tire before we start to push through Guadalupe and then Tempe. I must tell you Gentle Reader, that although we are riding fast, averaging between 16 and 19 mph, the flats have slowed us--and the heat is beating us down. We have to stop when we can and get ice and water. Steve's call to Kim on the cell let's us know that the temp is 106. We push through Pheonix proper, stop at Taco Bell because we're starving, and start making a gradual climb through to Scottsdale. ASU and Tempe are beautiful, but its so hot! We're also manuvering through early afternoon Friday traffic.
Camelback Mtn is our next landmark. We're about 20 to 25 miles from Steve's house--its due North of us. We go thru Papago Park, and then thru some pretty posh Scottsdale neighborhoods. Check out below, mes amis!
Chicken Marsala
I'm leaving out stuff because I only have one thing on my mind.
We make it to Scottsdale, and Kim is getting dinner ready. After a quick shower, I'm starved! Dinner is the best!
Cheers!
Back to Marana
After a few more glasses of Italian wine, and a few more beers--we pack up our gear so we can be ready to roll at 3 a.m.
3 a.m. in Scottsdale--
The road is wide open for us. All the traffic that we had to drag ourselves through is now gone, and we fly down to Tempe to our favorite I-Hop. There is no one out, say a few party-goes returning back to Mommie and Daddy's house. Its clear, cool, and the only sounds are spinning wheels, a few yawns, farts--and my stomache grumbling. Geez, after all I ate and drank you think I wouldn't be starving--but I am.
I-Hop staff is wide awake and professional. The waitresses do a good job dealing with a few drunk college boys... My omelette is the size of an SUV, by the way.
We have made good time, riding fast, getting good service--before I know it, we are on the outskirts of Chandler--a quick look over my shoulder, and I can see the lights on South Mtn. It's like the 4th of July.
Sleep
We are riding at a good clip, and by 9 - 9:30, we are in Casa Grande. But I think the funk is getting to me, because at our stop for water and ice--it takes us/me 30 minutes to get it together to get back on the road. Because we're tired, and now because of the heat, our stops will become frequent and time-consuming. We're gonna work on this so as to cut our time down. I've thought about driving out on the course for next years brevets and stashing stuff... As we get through Eloy, thank goodness, there seems to be only one place to stop and get some shade and some rest. Its an old foundation of a building by the side of the road. The trees have shaded the slab and its still cool from the eveing. Steve and I both lie down, take off our shoes, and rest--but after a few minutes, I feel myself falling into a very deep sleep. But we got to get out of there and keep rolling--but I wouldn't have caught myself, I believe the both of us could have falling asleep for a very long time. The longer we take getting home, the hotter it will get.
Two Brothers
As we're getting our asses in gear, two cyclists roll by and wave. After a few miles on the frontage road, they are in sight. We catch up to them and have a friendly chat. They are two brothers from Chandler, Arizona. One of the brothers has been living on the East Coast and is home for a visit. They are both eager to be out riding. They think our ride has been "Sweet" and they know our course and think that it is way cool that we left at 3 a.m. They are on their way to Tucson to meet friends and party. I hope they'll get a ride back. It is going to be hot, and although the guys look fit, they havn't ridden in awhile... Pichaco Peak looms ahead about 6 miles in front of us. We'll stop at DQ for lunch. We move on and quickly drop the brothers, as we are riding strong and fast.
The Heat
After a quick burger, ice and water in the bottles, we step outside to mount the bikes--it is noticably hot--and I mean like over 100 hot. Holy Shit but we are going to fry, and we know it. But we only have about 27 more miles. They will be unforgiving. We are riding strong, and soon I see the Marana Circle K a few miles ahead--which is good because I have no water left.
Tangerine Rd
We have a six mile climb up Tangerine Rd to the finish. We road about 12 miles an hour, which is a good pace, but soon, I'm sweating so much that I'm wiping sweat out of my eyes and I can't see. I have to remove my helmet for the climb, just so I can better wipe the sweat off my forehead. In the couse of this six miles, Steve and I are both soaking wet.
Finish
Made it. And I still feel strong! But I need a shave.
Allure Libre!
Sorry, but the camera didn't work, so my prose will have to suffice, Gentle Readers...
This ride is the brain child of my friend Steve--a seasoned Randonneur, and two-time veteran of Paris-Brest-Paris, and other countless brevets... If you ever want to ride the long ride, you want Steve in your pace line. So here's my shout-out to Steve--Yo, Steve--Allure Libre, mon ami!
4 am Marana
Dogs freak out
Packed, and ready to roll--Callie, my dog, and Shasta, my neighbor's dog that I'm watching while they're away, can feel the excitement--or something. So they're outside and in the garage with me. My hope is they'll run around, get some exercise, and leave me to finish getting ready. One of my other neighbors appears, and starts up his motorcylce--at 4:30 am (Kind of odd actually) Callie and Shasta freak out and bark and growl and chase him as he speeds off. Great. I've woken up the whole block...
4:30 am
Steve arrives in the Mystery Van
Callie likes Steve--she barks--Shasta starts barking. It's more of a, "Hey Steve is here!" bark, and pretty loud... So whoever got woken up, went back to sleep--is now awake again.
4:45 am
Bev bids us farewell
5 am Marana
We roll out
Going down Tangerine to the Frontage Rd, we can ride about 28 to 30 mph for 6 miles. That's pretty cool (enjoi while we can) and there on the Frontage Rd, just as we turn to head North, Picacho Peak is visable about 27 miles in the distance. About 13 miles past the landmark will be breakfast...
Wish I had the camera. At sunrise, Picacho Peak is awesome, as are the Picacho Mts. Father Kino noted Picacho Peak when he first arrived in the area in 1775. I've also learned that near the Dairy Queen was the stagecoach stop in the 1870s. They went through Picacho Pass and turned left (West) and went on to San Francisco. (image borrowed from the web)
Welcome to Eloy -- Evil Eloy
There's an old legend about Eloy that goes like this: A guy gets off the train and takes one look at this shit hole and says, "Eloi! Eloi!" "Eloi" is supposedly the Spanish pronunciation of the biblical quotation, "Eli, Eli, Jama sabachthani?" meaning, "God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" Somewhere leaving Eloy on the way to CG, I ran over something sharp in the road and my rear tire blew. If you've been reading the blog this summer, you know my luck with blow-outs... To my dismay the rear tire is gashed. We are about 40 miles into our 130 mile leg. My brand new Continental set of tires I just bought($$$)--So now the rear tire is crap.
Eloy is an evil place. We change the tire. WHAM. The tire blows again... "Eloi! Eloi!" Okay, this time we use the dollar bill trick to keep the tube and tire in place. Keeping our spirts high, we decide we'll make it to breakfast and find a bike shop open--I'll buy a new tire and we'll get some more tubes. As we're leaving, I hit my head on the "Welcome to Eloy" sign. We had been using it for shade while we fixed the my tire--ouch! It hurt.
Casa Hop
When we reach Casa Grande, I see a UPS guy getting gas at a service station. He gives us directions to the bike shop, and the I-Hop, and the strip club--not really, just playing!
Bike Shop
Steve and I decide the tire will make it to Scottsdale, but we'll buy extra tubes. Steve says he'll loan me a tire for the return trip back to chez Marana. Really I think we just want to get rolling. The bike shop guys know Susan Plonsky, and they know we're the sick long-distance riders--they give us directions to get us up the road to where we'll catch the Casa Grande Century course, and on to Chandler, AZ.
Chandler, Arizona
Alexander John Chandler, 1859-1950, born in Canada--he was a veterinarian when he arrived in Arizona Territory. Later he had a large farm and citrus groves--no relation to my people. We ride the Casa Grande Century course on Hwy 87 for a good while--and we are riding strong and making good time. Other cyclists are out enjoying the cool morning. This part of Hwy 87 is probably the most scenic of our ride. Open desert, lots of giant saguaros, and rugged moutains in the distance. Traffic is light, and people driving don't seem to be in hurry.
Before long, I begin to recognize Chandler--we're getting into what used to be farm country. Developments are underway with nice homes and shopping malls--Circle K's begin to appear. It is worth noting that its late morning or going on very early afternoon--Friday--but as we buy ice and get water, etc, mexican laborers and guys like that are buying cases of cheap beer. Hopefully we won't meet up with them later on the road.
My moral is boosted by arriving in Chandler, but we still have a long way to go. I'm still confused about time and distance in the Pheonix area because I really don't know that much about it. South Mtn becomes a visable landmark.
100 Degrees +
I have one more flat tire before we start to push through Guadalupe and then Tempe. I must tell you Gentle Reader, that although we are riding fast, averaging between 16 and 19 mph, the flats have slowed us--and the heat is beating us down. We have to stop when we can and get ice and water. Steve's call to Kim on the cell let's us know that the temp is 106. We push through Pheonix proper, stop at Taco Bell because we're starving, and start making a gradual climb through to Scottsdale. ASU and Tempe are beautiful, but its so hot! We're also manuvering through early afternoon Friday traffic.
Camelback Mtn is our next landmark. We're about 20 to 25 miles from Steve's house--its due North of us. We go thru Papago Park, and then thru some pretty posh Scottsdale neighborhoods. Check out below, mes amis!
Chicken Marsala
I'm leaving out stuff because I only have one thing on my mind.
We make it to Scottsdale, and Kim is getting dinner ready. After a quick shower, I'm starved! Dinner is the best!
Cheers!
Back to Marana
After a few more glasses of Italian wine, and a few more beers--we pack up our gear so we can be ready to roll at 3 a.m.
3 a.m. in Scottsdale--
The road is wide open for us. All the traffic that we had to drag ourselves through is now gone, and we fly down to Tempe to our favorite I-Hop. There is no one out, say a few party-goes returning back to Mommie and Daddy's house. Its clear, cool, and the only sounds are spinning wheels, a few yawns, farts--and my stomache grumbling. Geez, after all I ate and drank you think I wouldn't be starving--but I am.
I-Hop staff is wide awake and professional. The waitresses do a good job dealing with a few drunk college boys... My omelette is the size of an SUV, by the way.
We have made good time, riding fast, getting good service--before I know it, we are on the outskirts of Chandler--a quick look over my shoulder, and I can see the lights on South Mtn. It's like the 4th of July.
Sleep
We are riding at a good clip, and by 9 - 9:30, we are in Casa Grande. But I think the funk is getting to me, because at our stop for water and ice--it takes us/me 30 minutes to get it together to get back on the road. Because we're tired, and now because of the heat, our stops will become frequent and time-consuming. We're gonna work on this so as to cut our time down. I've thought about driving out on the course for next years brevets and stashing stuff... As we get through Eloy, thank goodness, there seems to be only one place to stop and get some shade and some rest. Its an old foundation of a building by the side of the road. The trees have shaded the slab and its still cool from the eveing. Steve and I both lie down, take off our shoes, and rest--but after a few minutes, I feel myself falling into a very deep sleep. But we got to get out of there and keep rolling--but I wouldn't have caught myself, I believe the both of us could have falling asleep for a very long time. The longer we take getting home, the hotter it will get.
Two Brothers
As we're getting our asses in gear, two cyclists roll by and wave. After a few miles on the frontage road, they are in sight. We catch up to them and have a friendly chat. They are two brothers from Chandler, Arizona. One of the brothers has been living on the East Coast and is home for a visit. They are both eager to be out riding. They think our ride has been "Sweet" and they know our course and think that it is way cool that we left at 3 a.m. They are on their way to Tucson to meet friends and party. I hope they'll get a ride back. It is going to be hot, and although the guys look fit, they havn't ridden in awhile... Pichaco Peak looms ahead about 6 miles in front of us. We'll stop at DQ for lunch. We move on and quickly drop the brothers, as we are riding strong and fast.
The Heat
After a quick burger, ice and water in the bottles, we step outside to mount the bikes--it is noticably hot--and I mean like over 100 hot. Holy Shit but we are going to fry, and we know it. But we only have about 27 more miles. They will be unforgiving. We are riding strong, and soon I see the Marana Circle K a few miles ahead--which is good because I have no water left.
Tangerine Rd
We have a six mile climb up Tangerine Rd to the finish. We road about 12 miles an hour, which is a good pace, but soon, I'm sweating so much that I'm wiping sweat out of my eyes and I can't see. I have to remove my helmet for the climb, just so I can better wipe the sweat off my forehead. In the couse of this six miles, Steve and I are both soaking wet.
Finish
Made it. And I still feel strong! But I need a shave.
Allure Libre!
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