Photos From the Saddle

Hats off to those Swobo kids for posting this… my new favorite video:

The variance between weather forecasts never ceases to amuse me. Here’s what I’m looking at for tomorrow’s commute home…

NOAA is saying there’s an 80% chance of rain with winds between 20 and 30mph. WeatherUnderground shows a similar picture. AccuWeather, however, would have me believe that things are going to be cloudy, no rain and mild winds up to 8mph. Weather.com and Intellicast are offering forecasts somewhere in the middle.

It snowed a little bit Sunday night, which meant that the entire region crapped itself for the Monday morning commute. School closures, “I’m not coming in to work ’cause I’m snowed in,” etc. The most snow that fell? Four inches was the max… two was average. Granted, it doesn’t snow often here… and I can attest that a large portion of the population doesn’t know how to drive in conditions other than dry. I think Seattle has a snow plow… maybe two these days.

Anyway, the weather forecast for today was along the lines of “OMG, it’s gonna snow MORE! Prepare for teh worst EVAR!!!” Instead of teh worst evar, we got… rain. Along with some wind. And, to be fair, I saw a few fat flakes of snow mixed in with the rain when I stepped off the train this afternoon. Apparently it skipped the lowlands and dumped in the mountains. I have a hunch a few people will be calling in sick tomorrow with the powder-flu.

I’m planning on riding and finding out what the weather is like along the way.

It was 17 degrees at McChord when I left to ride to the train yesterday. G reported his car’s thermometer read 19. I didn’t know any of this until I got to work, though. At the train station, they said that the train might be delayed because the rail switches were all frozen. Even the valley was colder than previous days. Bitter cold. No snot-cicles, though.

Rode all the way back into town with G after work. “We’re going easy, buddy. You pull anything, you’re riding alone.” Funny, since he’s unquestionably the stronger rider. It was nice to just spin and chill for a couple hours, though. Come to think of it, we had a steady 17 pace. A shame that I forgot my camera: clear skies and a beautiful sunset. Along the way we chatted about a bunch of stuff, including the relationship between bikes and cars after I’d had some “young adults” spit at me as they passed me the first time, and then yelled a bunch of unintelligible obscenities as we yo-oed a couple times after that. My response was my usual one: laugh and shake my head. It’s senseless idiocy, and it’s sad that cyclists have to deal with it frequently. It was coincidental, too, since G had sent me the link to Zabriskie’s Yield to Life project earlier.

Stopped at the watering hole after G and I split up. Warmed up my toes while watching Liverpool v AV. When I left, the girls all wished me a safe ride. For some reason, that made me smile.

It’s 30 out right now; they’re saying there’s a good chance of mixed rain/snow this weekend. Thinking about rolling over to the store on the One Way and grabbing some breakfast makin’s. I’ve come to really love the short ride to the store. Sadly, a sixer doesn’t fit in the small-ish rucksack I typically carry.

I often find the train ride to be great decompressing time. Typically I’ll pop my earphones in and tune out the general chatter… maybe even find an inspiring song for the ride to come. There’s always plenty to look at, either out the window or down the aisle. There’s also a pretty regular bike/train commuting crowd. We’re like a niche within a niche.

The ride in this morning was chilly through town… 25 degrees when I left. I noticed that my tires were picking up frost and little bits of gravel, which kept flying off and hitting my downtube with a poignant *ping*. Warmed up significantly in the valley, though—33 degrees, I think. Rode with C from the station and chatted with him a little bit along the way.

In the locker room, before heading home, I harassed another colleague about when he’ll be riding in/home. He seemed genuinely interested, though wanted to wait until the weather got nicer. This is the time, my friend… this is the time. There’s always tomorrow, but tomorrow isn’t guaranteed.

I thought about that yesterday. I thought about how everything can change in a fraction of a second… no matter who you are or what you’re doing. Justin’s accident with the fender started off the thought, but it soon spread to thoughts of other people in my life who’ve suffered much because of fractions of a second. I thought about the article in Bicycling magazine that a co-worker suggested I read… the article which outlined numerous cycling tragedies/fatalities, all of them completely out of the rider’s control. I only made it three-quarters of the way through the article before I indignantly tossed it back on their desk. I didn’t want to be reminded of my mortality on the morning of my first bike commute of the year.

Yes, it’s true. I know it’s true and I think about it frequently whenever I ride. Life is filled with risks and completely random, unjust accidents and tragedies. But to live in fear of those would be disabling. Sterile bubbles aren’t my thing. I love to ride.

On the train home this afternoon, I thought about these things while looking out at Rainier being lit up by the setting sun. It wasn’t so much a somber process as it was just a process of reflection.

The thought came to me as I was driving home, pondering the year to come. Stamina. I need to improve it. Doing a short climb won’t do it. Doing a long, continuous climb will… With no long, continuous climbs immediately nearby, another thought came to me… laps.

I’ve done The Double a couple times now, each time feeling better as I crested the top of the second climb… so I figured doing three climbs on the same hill would be a logical next step.

First lap my legs were slow to wake up, but my lungs and heartrate felt fine. Sweet. Second lap, I started noticed my lungs and legs weren’t as loose and happy-go-lucky as the first go. No matter; I only had one more lap to go.

It’s still cold out. There are patches of ice around; mostly in the shade. Ice isn’t common around here. As a friend commented last night, it rains here, and everyone knows that, so we have no real grounds to complain when it rains a lot… however, it rarely gets cold, thus the relatively novel atmospheric condition is fair game for complaint. I don’t mind the cold all that much, though… I’m just really happy that it’s been sunny and clear for a few days. Great riding conditions… minus the ice.

Looking up the hill at the start of the third lap, I wondered if I would hit The Wall somewhere. When riding with G, I’ll find points, often on climbs, where I can see The Wall approaching… and I’ll back off, sit up and pace myself better. No races to win. At the bottom of the hill, I look up and wonder if I got in over my head. After all, I’m at the bottom of a hill and my destination is beyond the top of it.

Half-way up, I notice the mailman is doing his rounds, talking with his customers. I’m feeling it now; that ache. No rush, just take it slow and steady. I try thinking about other things… like how I used to run up this hill. I’m passing the speed bump that’s three-quarters of the way up, where I used to always stop jogging and walk a little bit to keep my heart rate from topping 210bpm. I think about how, when running, I typically close my fist around my right thumb… but not my left. I’m nearing the top and… it’s missing… That feeling is missing. The feeling of approaching The Wall, where your limit is in sight and you will be forced to make a choice.

Four? Could I really do four? Why not?

Before descending the hill again, I pause to take in the view out over the bay. Another cyclist rolls up next to me and asks if I’m ready to go fast (down the hill). I chuckle and tell him I’ve already gone, but that he should enjoy the ride. He rolls off down the hill, bright yellow neon vest and multiple reflective patches. I wonder if I’m appropriately visible.

At the bottom of the hill, I wonder if this was such a great idea. No choice at this point, though, so I start up. This time I’m slower from the start… but I’m steady. I see the mailman again. I pass an intersection where the road up levels out ever-so-slightly. It’s a little more than half-way up, but I remember doing a couple circles here to catch my breath the first time I rode up this hill. I pass through the intersection, thinking that I should be congratulating myself. Instead, I think about what I’m going write.

I ride up and over the speed bump again and wonder where it was that Justin’s fender mount came loose, got tangled up in his spokes and frame and pitched him over the bars at 30+ mph. He now refuses to ride with fenders… or down this hill. I think that it’s a good thing I don’t have fenders on. The top is near. My heart is pumping, my lungs heaving… but… I feel good.

I feel good?

The whole point of this ride is to work on stamina… which means I should find The Wall and push through it… laughing madly in its face. So why do I feel good after roughly 1100 ft. in 2 mi.?

Five?

At the top, I notice something that I hadn’t appreciated before… a place where the road is crumbling away on top of the cobblestones it covered. It looks cool and makes me ponder the March of Progress, so I take a picture.

If I’m taking pictures of stuff that looks cool, clearly I’m not suffering enough to claim I went out to work on my stamina. Five it is.

One more quick descent and I’m back at the foot of the hill again. I feel good; my legs are loose and my heartrate is fairly low considering I just came off a climb a minute earlier. I notice the large ice patch at the side of the road… I’d passed it four times already, but this time it looks different. Probably the change in the light.

Steady. Steady. Steady. The elevation slowly disappears behind me and the distance in front of me shortens. I feel good. I pass the mailman again… and the speedbump… and the cobblestones.

1340 ft. in 2.5 mi. Five laps.

G and I rolled out at 7:30am with clear skies but a shivvery 31-degrees. We looked at each other, laughed and rattled off the additional layers we’d donned after looking at the forecast this morning. He was rockin’ the double-skullcap, I went the way of double leggings. It was going to be a fun ride.

The sun was just edging over Rainier’s foothills, offering spectacular views all around. Rolled down to Pt. D, where the temps dropped into the upper 20’s and sheets of ice seemed to cover a good portion of the road. No rush. Easy pace. The caribou seemed to be enjoying themselves, though:

Sheets of ice aren’t exactly commonplace around here, so it was a bit of an amusing novelty. “Ginger” would be apt for our pace, and in some spots we just dismounted and walked.

The views were truly spectacular, though. The Olympics were out in full glory and Baker was just barely visible. A good wind was blowing through, which the eagles seemed to be enjoying—at one spot we saw at least a half-dozen. (Check out the sheet of ice on the road next to the barrier… and that little fleck in the skies on the left is an eagle.)

Olympics and the Gig to the Harbor:

A bit of an homage to Raleigh’s habit of bike-hanging:

After making it through Pt. D’s various icefields, G started cranking a bit harder than usual to warm up as we beelined it to the raddest little coffee shop in town, where we ended up shootin’ the breeze ’bout bikes with a local guy.

Great random encounter; sounds like the bike community is growing a bit here in town… they organized an alleycat not long ago and we all agreed there’s plenty of opportunity to get more rides going.

Not bad for a random morning ride.

It was a “balmy” 32 degrees when I got home.

Walking out from the pub, the pavement is that color… the rain color. Might as well ride. Immediately drenched, hands start to freeze—they are the scouts for the chill to come, where the sensation of cold slowly becomes burn and then sting and then the uncertainty of what kind of feeling it is, if any at all. Where you rest your wrists on top of the bars so you can clutch your fingers and thumbs together in futile hope of keeping them warm. It’s the kind of weather where friends call and ask “You out riding? You want us to come get you?” and you laugh because there’s no other place you’d rather be than in the saddle, feeling the water collect where your pant legs are tucked into your socks.

It’s almost more fun to get drenched. Kinda like jumping in puddles when you were a kid.

This is why I ride.

Managed to finally commute to work, both Thursday and Friday: rocked the One Way on Thurs., then the Soma yesterday. I seem to be cursed when it comes to “breaking in” new bikes; the spokes on the One Way continue to be an issue and will likely result in me just buying a new wheelset (while “you get what you pay for” certainly applies, I’d like to hope you’d be able to get a functioning bike for $600). To add to the One Way frustrations, I managed to over-torque the wheel and cause it to slip in the dropouts while riding up a short (but steep) hill. Perhaps 42×16 isn’t ideal for climbing. Perhaps I just beat the crap out of bikes until they (or my checkbook) submit.

My legs are definitely feeling the week of stepped-up riding. That familiar subtle ache is sitting in my muscle tissue this morning… they feel strong, but fatigued.

Lovely lockers

Suspicious additional brown patterning on a train seat

Work magnets

The sun came out for the commute home…

The Seattle PI published an article on storm drains and their relationships with cyclists this morning. While interesting, the comments are by far the better read.

You know it was a good ride when the post-ride conversation shifts to Tiger Balm and Epsom salt baths.

G and I met up in the late afternoon for what ended up becoming an impromptu 22-miler. Clear, sunny skies and temps in the 50’s inspired plenty of people to venture outside, including the classic car drivers (you know it’s nice when they come out). It was a good mix of bike-lane’d roads, fun descents and long climbs. Ended at G’s and ended up having an awesome dinner with his family. A great ride, especially for mid-January. Definitely looking for the Tiger Balm and wishing I fit in my bathtub, though. All this riding is taking a toll.

Some shots from the ride: