Casey Neistat contests a ticked from NYPD for not riding in the bike lane. Bravo!
Soaked Lollipop
June 1, 2011 By 1 Comment
Time to lose
Between wolfing down road trip snacks on two back-to-back trips from Utah to Oregon, I’ve packed on a few pounds and am determined to get rid of it. In addition to the old calorie counting plan, I’ve decided to get serious about burning some calories.
But I’ve been sick for the last couple of days—waking up with fevered and sweating two nights ago and hacking up all kinds of friends with a deep cough; I was hesitant to ride today. But last night I slept pretty well and decided that, given I’d publicized my goal, I’d better make good on it—sick or not.
The plan
Breaking it down by day, I have to put in 500 calories every day between now and Saturday with a 2000 day on Thursday, which are turning into my long-ride days.
Today I mapped out a hour-ish road ride consisting of a 16 mile lollipop. I figure I burn about 600 calories an hour when I ride and if I shoot for that then I’ll be okay if my 2000 calorie Thursday plans fall a little short.
Watershed moment
It’d had been raining on and off all morning and Caren had come in soaked after her run earlier. But it wasn’t raining at the moment, so off I went. The ride was pretty uneventful as I tuned out the hill grinds with an audio book I’m listening to.
Around mile 10 a few rain drops splattered my glasses.
Mile 11 it decided to drizzle. “No matter,” I thought, “I’m almost home.”
Mile 12 the heavens opened up and it rained hard. Because the temperature was ~60° I started getting quite chilled. But I thanked my stars that I was at least doing an uphill section where I could keep my inner furnace stoked and stave off the cold.
The last two miles of downhill were absolutely brutal. The rain, if it was possible, got worse. It stung my arms through my sodden jacket and came through the vents of my helmet with such ferocity that it washed the sweat from my scalp and stung my eyes. Within seconds the rain turned to hail and pinged my cold skin into numb submission. Blinded with sweat and rain-spattered glasses, I raced down the mountain at 30 mph in an wild attempt to simply get home.
Arriving home, Caren greeted me with a towel and a warm sandwich.
As I rode down the mountain I had two thoughts: 1) I need some wool clothing and 2) this is an epic storm—to make it a worth-while story I really should be spending the night on the mountain. Alas.
Stats:
The World’s Toughest Bike Race Is Not in France
May 31, 2011 By Leave a Comment
The rules are simple: Start pedaling at the Canadian border, and the first fat tire to hit Mexico wins. JON BILLMAN saddles up for the Great Divide Race, 2,500 miles of blowouts, goatheads, UFOs, and misery—for the lucky ones who finish, that is.
High Noon is when a proper western should start, but we’re still waiting for Floyd Landis, Lance Armstrong, and George W. Bush. The 2007 Great Divide Race kicks off in 18 minutes here on June 15 at the First and Last Chance Bar, in Roosville, Montana, and the border crossing is buzzing with the carnival vibe of a gumball rally: 24 mountain bikers in clean, bright kits, tinkering with gear straps and barrel adjusters as they wait to begin the 2,490-mile self-supported race from the Canadian border to Antelope Wells, New Mexico, on the Mexican line.
Everyone’s nerves are showing. MYSTERY RACER is listed on the Website roster, and various forums are speculating wildly about which celebrity will show. Mike Curiak, 39, is the GDR’s official race director and the course record holder—16 days, 57 minutes, in 2004. Curiak’s rivals, now the 2007 favorites, are trading greetings: Anchorage bike wrench Pete Basinger, 27, who holds the Iditasport record, and North Carolina maître d’ Matthew Lee, 37, the winner of the last two GDRs—best time, 17 days, 22 hours, 30 minutes, in 2006. The wild card, balding and goateed Jackson Hole drywall contractor and Iditasport runner-up Jay Petervary, 34, is fiddling with his XM satellite receiver, which is wired to a mini solar recharger and preset to perpetual reggae and NPR: “I’m gonna get the weather.”
The rest of the field consists of two dozen underemployed dreamers who may have gotten ourselves in over our heads. I haven’t felt anything like this since the day I got married; I haven’t eaten since last night, but Matt McFee, a thirty-something computer geek and mountain-bike guide from Durango, is putting down his second or third hot dog as if he might not see another before the Fourth of July. Rick Hunter, a lanky California frame builder, tries to relax, surfer cool, on a picnic table next to his custom rigid ride, a cyclocross/cross-country hybrid with a couple of extra bottle cages for when this stunt hits the desert. Three middle-aged British endurance riders are keenly filling their camera’s memory card. And long-haired San Diego bike messenger Noah Dimit, 23, has waved goodbye to his grandparents and is heating soup on his backpacker’s stove: Jesus on a Stumpjumper.
It’s no small feat to get your rig to this border—like marriage, the GDR is a tough race to start and a tougher one to quit. Ask Nathan Bay. Bay is a 37-year-old baker, elk hunter, and recovering alcoholic from Bozeman sporting Ted Nugent camo on a green GT single-speed. Bay will tell you that mountain biking helped save his life—but be careful, because fat-tire rehab is a slippery slope, and you could find yourself in Roosville pointed south.
Read the rest of the story at OutsideOnline.
Silver Butte Loop
May 27, 2011 By Leave a Comment
The forecast promised a deluge of rain, but the weather actually was quite nice for this little jaunt. I picked out a short bit of logging road on Google Maps to try out some of the hills around my new, temporary, home. Even though it didn’t rain tons, it was plenty chilly. During the hill climbs I removed my Under Armour since I was working up a good sweat, but on the downhill I had to put it all back on to avoid going into hypothermia. Good thing I was in the middle of nowhere because putting on a base layer in public could get you arrested.
What the…? Here’s a hint: buy a GPS.
Google Maps, by the way, should never be used to plan any sort of trip that involves logging roads in Oregon. I’d planned out the route (which was pretty straight forward) using the ubiquitous tool, but found that when I was actually in the hills, all preparation turned useless. You’d think that I would have learned my lesson by now.
Take the second left at mile 6.4 and 2900 feet.
The problem was that there were far more than two roads before I ever came close to the true turn off. Which meant that when I truly came to mile 6.4, I’d already gone 8.9. Fortunately the elevation profile was somewhat accurate. As I neared the road, I was checking out my homemade map and as a BLM officer stopped and I asked him for directions to the turn off. Fortunately he pointed me in the right direction and, within 500 yards, I’d made my critical turn. After that, it was mostly a downhill cruise through some beautiful old growth, a logging operation (where I had to pick through discarded “brush” that littered the road), and plenty of mud.
Photographic evidence
Sadly my camera’s battery bonked after only a few photos, but I was nonetheless pleased with the shots.
Panorama of the Riddle Oregon township
One of the many false trails
Above the clear cut line
Stats:
Silver Butte preview
May 24, 2011 By 1 Comment
I only had an hour today. Caren was going to help out with a funeral and I needed to be around to watch the five little indians. I’ve been wanting to get back on dirt for a while now, but most of my riding has been simple 30-40 minute sprints around the area to make sure my legs don’t atrophy.
On Thursday, I plan to ride this route.
It’s a lollipop gravel grinder that climbs 4000 feet over 17 miles. And it’s really just a precourser to this ride which uses a lot of the same roads, but is 35-ish miles. This longer route isn’t even in the planning stages, but on the bucket list.
But as I said, today I only had an hour and figured I’d better see what there was to see. Ten thousand logging roads in this area are begging to be explored.
It was a quick gravel/road grinder with virtually no downhill until I reached my turn-around spot.
I felt a lot faster today, and no wonder. Last night I discovered that I’d tightened my bearings too tightly last time I packed them—now I can’t believe how much drag I had accepted as normal.
Make your own cycling cap
May 24, 2011 By Leave a Comment
The Real Reason Why Bicycles are the Key to Better Cities
May 24, 2011 By Leave a Comment
It’s true—put someone on a (comfortable) bike and as often as not, they’re a convert.
We all know the talking points. The benefits of bicycles have been tirelessly elaborated upon; bicycles improve health, ease congestion, save money, use less space, and provide efficient transportation with zero fuel consumption and zero carbon emissions. The culmination of a population on two wheels can have a drastic impact on the overall wellbeing of a city. However, none of these come close to the most meaningful aspect of cycling, a factor that cannot be quantified but has endless value to those fighting to improve their communities.
The most vital element for the future of our cities is that the bicycle is an instrument of experiential understanding.
On a bicycle, citizens experience their city with deep intimacy, often for the first time. For a regular motorist to take that two or three mile trip by bicycle instead is to decimate an enormous wall between them and their communities.
Full article at sustainablecitiescollective.com.
The Clymb Sells Kilowatt Bamboo
March 16, 2011 By Leave a Comment
Kilowatt doesn’t make race bikes—they’re all about commuting. Most of their rigs are e-bikes of some sort. This week on The Clymb, Kilowatt are going for 60% of retail. The Bamboo Pedal, a sweet looking non-e-bike, is only $900. Looks like a good opportunity to buy!
Check it out at The Clymb. (aff link)
To the Pain
March 1, 2011 By Leave a Comment
What is it about time that ebbs away the pain of a moment? How can the pain and suffering of an extreme ride reduce me to a quivering lump flesh.
But when I look back on it, all I think about is this:
How easy it is to forget the pain.
Time to plan another trip.
