Lighthouse Century

This weekend I did the Lighthouse Century Ride. The route, support and amenities were all top notch.

I had managed to buy another rider's registration but wasn't able to make the Friday night check-in as we hit too much traffic on the drive up. Christine and I decided to make lemonade out of the lemons and stopped in Santa Barbara for dinner and ate at an amazing Danish restaurant/bakery on State street called Andersen's. I had the goulash and Christine ordered the Chesse Celebration that we thought was a simple cheese/fruit plate sampler. When it arrived we found that it was more like a New Year's Eve Party of Cheese. We were stunned when it showed up at the table. Poor Christine couldn't get through even a quarter of it and sadly, I'm lactose intolerant so I was no help.
















Cheese Celebration

I couldn't pass up the dessert and have a lovely slice of Danish Layer cake. I also took some Cranberry Scones for a pre-ride breakfast on Saturday. Delish.

The next day, we started the ride in Cuesta College which is a community college a few miles north of downtown San Luis Obispo aka SLOtown. The temperature is cool but not cold and the sky is very overcast but it looks like it will burn off. I made the call to not wear any cold weather gear on the ride although I briefly considered the arm warmers. Christine drops me off and I check-in and then cruise the parking lot looking for my people.

There are at least two dozen TnT alumni at the event. I chat briefly with the my current coach for Tucson, Ricky along with other teammates, Kevin, Lynn and Kim. There were a few other former teammates from my Tahoe ride, including Taj, Mark W, Lisa E, Jenny, Coach Rick, Christine H. Also attending were 12 of the San Diego Sub-5 team, including TnT alumni, DJ, Timmy, Troy and many others.

I meet up with Coach Rick, Christine and Mark W and hit the road, keeping a moderate pace of 13-15 MPH to warm up the legs. In the first 5 miles, we pass no less than 10 riders fixing flats or making other minor mechanical repairs. Weird. Riding along, I'm starting to deeply regret not bringing the arm warmers. We make our way up along Highway 1. The course is well marked and there are volunteers at any location where you might accidently veer off course. About 10 miles into the ride, the fog rolls in and we're swimming in pea soup. Visibility is poor. I have to remove my sunglasses as the condensation is too heavy to see through. Poor Christine is wearing prescption sunglasses and has to occassionally pull over to wipe them down. I look down and there is morning dew on my arm hair. I touch my face and it is soaking wet and I've got water droplets dripping from my facial hair. Luckily, the temperature wasn't too cold and I was starting to warm up. I estimate that 3/4 of our riding time was done in fog so heavy that we couldn't see the ocean, 100 yards away.

We pick up the pace and are doing anywhere from 18 - 22 mph on the flats and higher than that on the drops. We continue on and make our first SAG stop at mile 25. SAG means "support and gear" or "snacks and goodies" depending on who you talk to. Bagels with peanut butter, pretzels, bananas, apples, cookies, water, lemonade...you get the picture. I eat a 1/2 bagel with crunchy peanut butter, a banana, refill the water bottles and we hit the road again.

About 30 miles in, the sun miraculously appears and there is much rejoicing. I dry off, my compatriots pull over to remove their jackets and we proceed on. 5 miles later we're back in the pea soup! At this portion of the ride there were no other riders in sight. We cross over a bridge, I look down and see the mist swirling around the ground below. It was kind of spooky. It looks like one of the mideaval times movies and I kept expecting a fire-breathing dragon to zoom overhead.

Mile 50 is the turnaround point and there is another SAG stop. More of the same, but this time I choose a couple of apples and cookies. We head back and Rick comments on how the course if probably very beautiful and scenic...if you can see it! Mother nature hears his complaint and the sun finally fights back the fog and we are rolling down the coastline looking at the pristine Pacific Ocean. We pass Elephant Seal Rock and see a couple of dozen lazy seals, rolling in the sand. Lot of pelicans too. On the hillside up on the left we spy Hearst Castle in the distance. All of a sudden, after miles of myopic peddaling, the ride is gorgeous.
















Happy the sun finally emerged
















Riding Buddies Rick, Christine H, Mark W (F to B)

Then it is time to eat again. Let me tell you, the San Luis Obispo Bike Club really know how to party. This time it is deli sandwiches, pasta salad, green salad, loads of fruit and Olallieberry pie. Yes, that is right, PIE. Great lunch on picnic tables, chatting with fellow riders and then it's back on the road.

12 miles later, at mile 75 or so, there is unbelievably another food stop. What is with these people. We take a quick vote and veto the stop. Later we hear that the stop includes pound cake, strawberries, and chocolate syrup. These people are nuts!

Another 25 miles to go and the gang is tiring. Luckily, the weather remained cool and we were now riding in beautiful sunny weather. We triumphantly arrive back at Cuesta College. Ride totals were 97.58 total miles, with 6 hours, 1 minute of riding time. Elapsed time was a bit over 7 hours with all the stops. Average speed was 16.2 MPH. Very good. Not a lot of climbing. The ride was advertised at 3,500 feet of climbing but it was more like 2,200.

We roll back in and guess what...it's time to eat again. Post ride BBQ by the SLOBC. BBQ chicken, chili beans, salad, etc.

Ate, bought the event jersey and Christine took me back to the hotel and I had a nice nap. Good times.

Last day at the Velodrome

Track class ended last night. This was a 6-week class that I have been taking on Wednesday nights for the last month and a half. Each class is a 2-hour session of butt-kicking. I'm happy to report that the evening went very well after the last couple of sessions have been disappointing to me from a physical standpoint not to mention ego-crushing experience. It seems that rest and proper calorie intake are, in fact, important to a positive cycling experience. ;)

The session started with some warm up. "Warm up" in track class means go 75% of your max speed for lap after lap. Each lap is 333 meters, so three laps is 1 Kilometer. We did 15 laps, which is 5KM or a little over 3 miles. The first 8 laps were full lap "pulls". This means that each rider leads the pace line train for a full lap before rotating to the back of the line. The remaining 7 laps were what is called a "burnout". We went to 1/2 lap pulls, rotating at each 1/2 revolution of the track and increasing the speed with each rotation until the line "blows up", meaning that people start dropping off when they can't keep up. That got the blood pumping.

We take a rest and watch the advanced riders race and then it's our turn again. This time its a 15 lap "scratch" race. We take a "parade" lap to bunch up and hit the start line at roughly the same time. There are no real rules besides that whoever crosses the line first after 15 laps wins. The interesting thing is that there is no set strategy on how fast to go. Going all out from the start is poor strategy because then the rest of the riders will work against you. There was a lot of chatter amongst the riders negotiating a slower pace. We generally worked together for the first 10 laps and then the single group started to splinter into two groups, each pace-lining and jockeying for position. Then around lap 14, a couple of the riders took off and the chase was on! I'm 3rd wheel on the front group and peddle away, concentrating on making smooth even circles to maximize my efficiency. I'm hitting it hard trying to gain ground. A fourth rider catches me temporarily on the right with a 1/2 lap to go. I push harder, he gives it his all, grunting painfully before he cracks and drops back. 1/8 of a lap to go, I'm gaining ground on the second wheel but then a 5th rider passes me at the last second to take third place. I place a respectable 4th. I take a couple of cool down laps around the track gulping down as much oxygen as I can.

More blissful rest as we watch the advance riders "snowball" race. This is a 7-lap race with the first lap being worth 1 point, the second lap worth 2 points, etc until the last lap which is worth 7. Lot's of positioning and strategy with that one.

We're up again. This time, it's a match sprint. I get paired up with another rider and it is single lap race. First to cross the line wins. We start off slow and I ask if he wants to have a civilized race or is he of the attacking variety of rider. Attacking means surging ahead trying to break away. He gives a little grin and say's we'll see. Not good news. I line up right behind his wheel to save a little effort and the speed increases slightly. He starts sneaking up the curved bank wall and I'm trying to figure out what's going on. I stay in the pacer's line at the inner part of the track as that is the shortest distance around the course. Well, we hit the 1/2 way point and he plummets down the bank wall in front of me with the added momentum gain from coming off the wall and starts taking off. It appears that I have made a fundamental racing mistake. I should have taken off myself when he was wasting energy going up the wall. Anyway, I put the hammer down and try to catch him. I give it 100% of what I have and start gaining on him at an impressive rate. The crowd is cheering wildly...but he just manages to sneak a win on me. Damn, damn, damn. I would have had him in another 5 feet. Great race then. We head in and I'm feeling like I'm seriously going to puke. I'm chocking back the oatmeal I ate earlier and trying to get as much air in as possible. Water helps too. I collapse on the bench and stare listlessly at the rest of the match sprints. More blissful rest and I'm still feeling sick. My legs are very heavy and hard. Lactic acid build up. I walk around trying to get them loose.

Our turn again. I briefly contemplate backing out and calling it a night as I have the Lighthouse Century on Saturday and it would be the right thing to do, but my pride won't let me. This time it is Team sprint aka "Italian". Two groups of four line up on opposite ends of the track. It's a sort of relay where the first rider takes only a single lap, the breaks off the the line leaving the remaining riders to peel off with each lap until there is only one anchor rider left. Very similar to a relay. I lead off for our team, getting out of the saddle to gain a burst of speed. My teammates are screaming, faster, faster, faster. I get my rhythm and just burn it up, the last race of the class and I'm going out in style. It is very hard. I'm nearing the end of the lap, panting, straining, surging and then peel off. My God. I wheel off of the track to the asphalt and slowly cruise back to the start line in time to catch the last of the third leg. The race was essentially tied after the first two legs but our third rider is falling seriously behind. He hits the end of his lap, obviously dead on his wheels and 1/4 lap behind. Then our anchor rider, turns on the afterburners and gets after it. Amazingly, he is closing the gap. The crowd once again, goes wild. Somehow, he manages to make up the ground and we squeak out a photo finish win. It couldn't have been more than by 6-inches.

After I catch my breath, I ask the coach, why the race was called an "Italian". He says that because you ride so hard that you have to try and keep down your spaghetti when you are done. Funny.

Well that's it. The last couple of week haven't been great and I had come to the conclusion that this is a very specialized style of riding and I fancy myself more a jack of all trades type of rider. Maybe this wasn't for me but I'm glad I gave it a go. The coach asked if I was going to continue and take the next class starting in a couple of week which is the last of the season and I said not this time as I'm concentrating on longer distance riding and that I'd like to be a little leaner the next time I tried this. He said, "dude, you did awesome tonight. It just takes time". He said that he hoped to see me next year. Overall, it was a very positive day and as a bonus, I managed to keep the oatmeal down.

Feeling Stronger Every Day

I had a nice surprise when I showed up this morning. Coach John had fired up the propane stove and was serving pancakes, bacon and some nice OJ. Nice way to start the day. We had two guest speakers today providing the "mission moment". Each of the two speakers are cancer patients. The first speaker was David, who is a myloma survivor. He is an avid bike rider and has completed several programs with the Team after his cancer went into remission. He just happened to be riding by when Coach Ricky saw him and asked him to say a few words to the group. He didn't speak at length but he made a few points:

1) The medication that he is taking to control his cancer was developed as a direct result of monies that were donated by the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.

2) He has no choice but to "fight" as it is a fight for survival. He has a great deal of respect for our Team since we make the conscious choice to get out of bed at the crack of dawn on Saturday mornings and utilize several of our evenings each week in order to raise money for the Leukemia Society.

3) What we do makes a difference, and is appreciated.

The second speaker was a current Leukemia patient who echoed a lot of what Dave said and is actually looking into participating in a future event with the Team as his health improves.

Today's ride was much better than last week. The route was again the same as last week with just a few extra miles to bring the total up to 50 total miles. I have the Lighthouse Century next weekend so I limited the mileage to just the team mileage and didn't go for any "extra credit".

We started with two climbs up Torrey Pines was was pretty tough not being warm. I rode with the C group again and we are really starting to gel. We had some brilliant stretches where the pace line was tight and we cruising long distances at an average speed of 22-24 mph. If we can keep that up we are going to do pretty well at Tucson. I felt much stronger than last week where I think I was fighting a cold and not sleeping enough. Today, I felt great the entire day including all the climbs. It's amazing what getting a good night's sleep will do for you. The ride was mostly uneventful, with the exception of the last 10 miles where a couple of the rider's really started to tire after the blistering pace we were laying down. The pace line started stretching out and yo-yo-ing. As the group gets stronger I expect this to happen less frequently. Last part of the day was a third ascent up Torrey Pines which I massacred. I took that last climb better than the first. Great confidence builder for the Century next week.

The coming week is a "back down" week, where I taper my effort to let my body recover from all the riding I have been doing so I go into Lighthouse strong.

Fiesta Island Goodbye

I've been riding at Fiesta Island on Tuesday nights for the last couple of months. The island has two loops with my favorite being a roughly circular 2.5-mile one. The course is essentially flat although there are two little "bumps" to get a little variety. One side of the island also gets a lot of wind which offers additional challenges.

I've really enjoyed riding here mainly because no matter how far or hard you go, you are always no more than 2.5 miles from your car. I can work out at whatever level I choose, pushing myself to the limit or just cruising along. There is very little traffic, which is another bonus. Over the course of the summer I tried a variety of things at Fiesta:

• Riding solo, cranking in the big gear, ripping myself apart;
• Riding in the peloton with dozens of riders;
• Riding in a pace line with a group of my Team in Training teammates;
• Riding fast with a partner, alternating taking the lead the entire way
• Riding solo working on high cadence pedaling trying to change the style of my riding
• Doing sprint intervals for 25 miles with the Tucson Team

Lot's of variety. Unfortunately, today was my last Tuesday Fiesta night of the season. It is just getting dark too early to make it worth my time to go. I can't get out of work early enough to make it. I was only able to get in a little over 17.5 miles instead of my usual 20 before it got dark. The wind was also especially brutal tonight making it slower going that usual.

I'm going to miss this weekly riding ritual but will be back with a next year when the days get longer again. So long, Fiesta!

Tuesday night training will now become spin class with the Team.

Training Log September 15-21

Monday: Rest Day

Tuesday: 17.8 Miles at Fiesta Island. Average pace of 16.3 mph.

Wednesday:

Thursday:

Friday:

Saturday:

Sunday:

Epic Ride - Saturday

I'm a few days late in reporting but I had one hell of a ride on Saturday.

The first leg of the ride started with the weekly Team in Training Saturday session. Saturday is long mileage day and we are working our way up to the 109-mile ride in Tucson in November. This week's planned mileage was 45 or so but the goal was to really increase the hill work.

We started out at the UCSD campus and an immediately dropped down Torrey Pines road. We had essentially zero warm up as the downhill is no more than a mile away from our start point. The downhill is a little over 1.5 miles. I decided to have a little fun on the down hill and really wailed down the hill reaching a top speed of 42.9 mph by the time I reached the bottom. We regrouped and then made a U-turn. What goes down must go up, so we started the 1.5 mile climb back up the the very steep hill. One thing became immediately obvious, I am very out of practice when it comes to hill work. At the end of the Tahoe season, I used to just fly up the hills. I've lost a lot in the time between the Tahoe ride (June 1st) and now. I used to regularly be the first up the hill, but only managed to make it in 5th or so position. It was very painful.

We reach the top and then back down. This time I take it a much easier. We continue up the coast and do a partial repeat of last week's ride of the Faraday street loop. I'm feeling pretty sluggish, particulary in my legs. I just can't seem to get warmed up and the legs are SORE. I'm also having trouble getting into a good rhythmn but just keep chuggin' along. I think the problem is that I have been missing my "noodle" rides. A noodle ride is an easy ride you take the day after a big ride to remove all the lactic acid buildup from your legs to help with recovery. I've been riding very hard on Tuesdays, Wednesday and Saturday on a regular basis. Up until recently, I have been riding to work a couple of times a week. The occassional ride to work that was acting as my "noodle" ride. I've been so busy lately, with lots of meetings that I have needed to drive in so I haven't been getting the short easier rides to work in.

I start to feel better 25 miles into the ride and settle in to enjoy the scenary. The conditions are perfect for bike riding with it being cool and slightly overcast. The stretch along Faraday canyon is really nice and there are no cars to be found. After the loop we head back to the coast along La Costa Avenue. La Costa is a straight shot west back towards the coast and the wind is always very heavy. We get into a pace line of 6 riders and plow through the strong headwind. We each take 1 minute turns at the front before rotating to the back. I'm lucky to have another rider in my group that is big enough that I can draft behind. Last season, the times I was able to effectively draft behind someone were few and far between. I stay behind Jeff for a while and let him do all the heavy lifting. It's all going great until its my time to be up front. Jeff rotates off the front of the line and the wind hits me square in the face and I immediately slow down by 2 mph. I lower my head, get into my handlebar drops and grind it out to get back up to the 18 mph he had been maintaining. We finally make it to the coast and then head back south to finish up the team ride. Unfortunately, this means that we have to climb Torrey again. Still tough going but I make it and we head back to the parking lot with a respectable 47 miles under our belts.

Road coach Jack and I decide to go for a little extra credit. I've got the Lighthouse Century in a couple of weeks and I really need to get my mileage up. Last week's planned ride was cut short due to very hot weather so I need to get at least 80 in today. Reviewing our work so far, we decide that we don't need to chase any more climbing because we have already logged over 2500 feet of climbing. We decide to simply head 20 miles up the coast and then turn around and come back to grab a total of 40 miles. We are both pretty tired at this point having ridden nearly 50 miles and keeping a pace over 16 mph for the duration. We settle into a line of two and start banging it out, rotating every 5 minutes or so. Not a whole lot of conversation goes on except to moan a bit at each of the stop lights.

We stop at a liquor store in Del Mar and fill up on water and continue on. I'm starting to tire quite a bit after 10 miles, which is a bad sign when you have 30 more to go. Hmm, the coast is supposed to be flat right? Well every little hill is magnified and the legs are starting to really ache. On the flats we're hitting nearly 20 mph but I slow down to 14 mph on the hills. I'm getting murdered on the inclines. 10 more miles and we head back. We crest another couple of hills and go 5 more miles and I beg for a break. We pull over beneath a shady tree. I pull off the helmet and gloves to cool off. Back on the road a few minutes later. We go another couple of miles and then I get a huge thigh cramp and nearly fall off the bike. I'm starting to feel like a big wuss, here. I dismount and walk it off. Another 3 miles and I'm out of water ?!? Another stop to fill up and I'm feeling like I'm letting Jack down. I mumble an apology to Jack and he tells me that he's actually thankful for the break as I have been apparently "killing" him with the pace on the flats.

Back on the road to knock it out but there is one more Torrey Pines climb to contend with to make it back to my car. I tell Jack that I'm going to take it very slow as I'm wiped out at this point. He goes on ahead and I tackle the hill for the 3rd time today. My pace is a ridiculously slow 5 mph and I crawl up the hill. I make it to the top in surprisenly good shape. I took it so easy that I'm hardly out of breath. We regroup at the top and head back in. We stop at Jack's car and he reads his bike computer to give us the totals. 86 Miles at an average pace of 15 mph with 3998 feet of climbing. Two lousy feet short of 4K. The heck with that. The parking lot is slightly inclined and we both hop on our bikes and get our extra 2 feet in!

86 Miles with 4,000 feet of climbing at that pace is one hell of a bike riding day. We're finally done for the day after 7 hours of being on the bike. We had some rest stops in there but it was still one long day.

I think I'm almost ready for the Lighthouse Century coming up in two weeks. I wish I had one more week to get long mileage in but this ride really helped. Next week, is taper week so I'm going to limit my ride to the Team ride which should be around 50 miles.

Bike Restoration Project - Before

Some eagle-eyed readers have commented that I have referred to a new bicycle in a couple of my posts. I'm finally ready to unveil my project. I bought a vintage bicycle about a month ago from a local seller. The components have a dating stamp on them that indicates that they were manufactured in 1973 so I'm guessing the bicycle was assembled in 1974.

The bike was hand-made and wasn't constructed by a major manufacturer. After weeks of reasearch, I've determined that it is very probably an Andy Gilmour racing bicycle. Andy has been building bicycle frames since the early 70's. I've been in contact with Andy via email and he says that while he can't be 100% certain, that it definitely looks like one of his early builds.

The bike is built in the classic lugged steel construction style using lightweight columbus steel tubing. The original owner of the bicycle went out of their way to outfit the bike with top of line lightweight components and parts and build the best bicycle they could. The components are the highly desirable Camagnolo Nuovo Record group and all the bolts were replaced with lightweight aluminum alloy ones to further reduce the weight.

While it was fortunate that the original owner took such great care to assemble the bicycle, the second owner wasn't as kind to the bicycle although it was obviously a "rider" instead of a "show-er" for him. There was a significant rust issue, the bike was filthy and it would definitely require a new paint job.

Here are the obligatory before photos.















As I bought it

Note the padded gel seat and "unique" bar tape. Gah.















Super Record Chainrings

Drill pattern to further reduce weight. Beautiful.




















Hand cut lugs

Pretty.




















Bottom bracket

Hand cut "G" detail.




















Little Rust Problem

The owner lives about 50 yards from the ocean and the bike was stored in a non-airtight storage room and just started rusting away. Rust was my biggest concern but it appeared to be limited to a surface issue.




















Campagnolo Nuovo Record Rear Derailleur

As noted above, the bike was filthy. I spent no less than 6 hours cleaning it before sending it in for repainting.




















"G" Decal

Remnant of a decal that doesn't match any manufacturer I've been able to find. In the future I'm going to have to have it recreated.

I'll let you stew on these and will begin posting some "after" photos in the near future. If all goes well, I'll get this baby back on the road in the next two weeks.

Family Photo

My brother recently sent me a photo of he and I along with some of my cousins that was taken in front of my Grandparent's home when we were kids. I'm estimating that it is circa Summer of 1977, making me around 11 years old in the photo. We were playing baseball in the front yard and Grandma was cooking. These were good times.














Background standing - Little Danny
Background crouching - My brother, Angel
Front Row L to R - Anthony, Me, Donny and Little David

We lost Little Danny to Leukemia in 1992 at the age of 20 when the survival rate of Leukemia patients was abysmally low. Things are thankfully improving.

I wanna be this guy, except only alive...

This is so inspiring to me. Below is the obituary of Ian Hibbel from the Economist Magazine. Ian was a famous Randonneur and died recently at the age of 74 while riding his bicycle, appropriately enough.

Direct link may be found at http://www.economist.com/displaystory.cfm?story_id=12202333

All praise and credit to The Economist magazine.

=====================================================

Ian Hibell

Sep 11th 2008
From The Economist print edition

Ian Hibell, a long-distance cyclist, died on August 23rd, aged 74

Nic Henderson

IN A man’s life there comes a time when he must get out of Brixham. He must leave the boats bobbing in the harbour, the Devon cream teas, the holiday camp and the steam railway; he must bid farewell to the nine-to-five job at Standard Telephones and Cables, up the A379 in Paignton, and hit the more open road.

Some might get no farther than Bristol. But Ian Hibell went so far in one direction that his eyebrows crusted with frost and his hands froze; and so far in another that he lay down in the hot sand to die of dehydration (as he expected) under a thorn tree; and so far in another that the safest place to be, out of range of the mosquitoes, was to burrow like an alligator into black, viscous mud.

In the course of his 40-year travelling life he went the equivalent of ten times round the equator, covering 6,000 miles or so a year. He became the first man to cycle the Darien Gap in Panama, and the first to cycle from the top to the bottom of the American continent. He went from Norway to the Cape of Good Hope and from Bangkok to Vladivostok, wheeling or walking every inch of the way. Every so often he would come back, showing up at STC (from which he had taken, in the beginning, only a two-year leave of absence) with vague murmurings of an apology. But pretty soon the panniers would be packed, the brakes checked, the tyres pumped, and he would be off again.

His cycle, loaded with 60-80lb of clothes, tent, stove, biscuits, sardines and water, was sometimes a complication. In the Sahara it sank to its hubs in fine, talc-like sand. In the Amazonian jungle he could not squeeze it between the trees. Crossing the great Atrato swamp, where the track became a causeway over slimy logs and then a mat of floating grass, the bike would sometimes sink into nothingness. He became expert at feeling for it in the morass with his feet. Every tricky traverse in mountain, stream or forest needed doing twice over: once to find a way for himself, then to collect the steed, often carrying it shoulder-high through sharp palmetto, or water, or rocks.

Yet Mr Hibell’s love for his bikes was unconditional. He took them, muddy as they were, into hotels with him, and clung fiercely on to them whenever tribesmen robbed him of the rest of his things. His favourite had a Freddie Grubb frame of Reynolds 531 tubing on a 42-inch wheelbase, reinforced to take the extra weight of goatskins holding water; Campagnolo Nuevo Record gears front and rear; Robregal double-butted 14-16-gauge spokes; and Christophe pedal-straps. It was so lightweight, as touring bikes go, that a group of boys in Newfoundland mocked that it would soon break on their roads. Instead, it did 100,000 miles.

Bikes rarely let him down. Escaping once from spear-throwing Turkana in northern Kenya, he felt the chain come off, but managed to coast downhill to safety. He crossed China from north to south—in 2006, at 72—with just three brake-block changes, one jammed rear-brake cable and a change of tape on the handlebars. In his book, “Into the Remote Places” (1984), he described his bike as a companion, a crutch and a friend. Setting off in the morning light with “the quiet hum of the wheels, the creak of strap against load, the clink of something in the pannier”, was “delicious”. And more than that. Mr Hibell was a short, sinewy man, not particularly swift on his feet. But on a good smooth downhill run, the wind in his face, the landscape pelting past, he felt “oneness with everything”, like “a god almost”.

A teapot in the desert

Human company was less uplifting. His travelling companions usually proved selfish, violent and unreliable, unappreciative of Mr Hibell’s rather proper and methodical approach to putting up a tent or planning a route, leaving (sometimes with essential kit) to strike off by themselves. But there were exceptions. One was the beautiful Laura with whom, after years of shyness towards women, he found love as they skidded down rocky tracks in Peru. Others were the strangers whose kindness he encountered everywhere. Peasants in China shared their dumplings with him; Indians in Amazonia guided him through the jungle; and in a wilderness of sand a pair of Tuareg boys produced from their robes a bag of dates and a small blue teapot, which restored him.

In a career of hazards, from soldier ants to real soldiers to sleet that cut his face like steel, only motorists did him real damage. The drivers came too close, and passengers sometimes pelted him with bottles (in Nigeria), or with shovelfuls of gravel (in Brazil). In China in 2006 a van drove over his arm and hand. He recovered, but wondered whether his luck would last. It ran out on the road between Salonika and Athens this August, where he was knocked out of the way by a car that appeared to be chasing another.

At bad moments on his trips he had sometimes distracted himself by thinking of Devonian scenes: green fields, thatched cottages and daffodils. He would return to a nice house, a bit of garden, the job. But that thought could never hold him long. Although his body might long for the end of cycling—a flat seat, a straight back, unclenched hands—his mind was terrified of stopping. And in his mind, he never did.

Training Log September 7-14

Monday: Rest Day

Tuesday: 17.5 Miles at Fiesta Island. I took it easy today so I don't keel over at track class tomorrow.

Wednesday: Track class at the Velodrome. We did a couple of actual races. I was pretty weak sauce. My body is tired from all the biking I've been doing and the small amount of sleep I've been getting.

Thursday: Worked late doing a field inspection. Two hours of walking around a large job site.

Friday: Save the legs for tomorrow's planned 85+ miles. Updated fundraising page and blog.

Saturday: 86-Miles with 4000 feet of climbing. Average speed just over 15 mph.

Sunday:

C-Rider

Saturday is long mileage day on the Team. We are at the start of our program, being about 4 weeks in so our scheduled mileage is a modest 35 miles. Here is the route we rode.









I've been riding 40-50 miles on Saturdays since completing the Lake Tahoe century in June so this isn't that big of a deal. I decided to work on my pace line skills and continue working on my pedaling cadence. I've been trying to get used to pedaling at a higher cadence that I am used to as it is more of an aerobic workout and I'm told that it is a more efficient style of riding. I have been more of a gear masher my whole life up until now so this is a big adjustment. Below is a graphic taken from my bike computer showing heart rate (red) vs cadence (orange). I tried to stay up around 90-100 rpm the entire route.








Today's route includes the Faraday Loop, which is a very nice route in Carlsbad and I rode with the "C" group, which is comprised of the fastest most experienced riders. We are lead by the Chad, who is a lightning fast racer with loads of experience.

We started out as a bigger group which included the advanced intermediate group (B3's) and practiced pace-lining and maintaining a constant speed of around 18 MPH. Today was the first real hill work we had in the program so far. Climbing seems to be the real dividing line between riders. The rule is you ride with whichever groups you can climb with. After the first big hill, the groups divides into a two pretty distinct groups. 4 of us break away from the rest of the group and pretty much ride by ourselves the rest of the session.

I felt fairly comfortable riding at the increased cadence and I found that it didn't really slow me down much. I felt strong the entire session and my legs felt great afterwards. There might be something to this high cadence pedaling technique.

After the session, Kevin, Captain Jack and myself decided to get some more mileage in. I've got the Lighthouse Century Ride at the end of the month so I was hoping for 80+ miles. Well, the weather didn't cooperate as it was very hot. Kevin had a shorter mileage goal so dropped off after about 15 miles. Jack and I continued on and made the mistake of heading inland towards San Elijo. Not a good idea. We soon found ourselves climbing a respectable hill in the stifling heat with no shade or breeze to be founds. After about 20 miles of this I started to overheat. I was also down to the last few drops of my water bottle. A convenience store was nearby and I considered pushing on but I remembered the lesson I learned during the Scipps Old Pros ride on July 4th, where I overheated and promptly bonked. I decided to listen to my body and asked Jack to pull over. We rested in the shade of the only tree in sight as I took of my helmet, gloves and cooled down. After 5 minutes or so I felt much better and we headed towards the convenience store where I promptly headed for the restroom to douse my head with cold water in the sink. We refilled the water bottles, eat some salt and vinegar chips, drank tons of Gatorade and decided to head back.

We rode a total of just over 65 miles and I was on the road for nearly 6 hours. I'm going to suggest an earlier start time for next week.

Not so fast...

Back at the Velodrome, Wednesday night after a week off. We started off with a few warm up laps and then came in. The instructor, Sean asked us to break ourselves into two groups, those that think they are fast and those that are not so fast. Well, I've been feeling pretty good about my speed work lately so I choose the fast groups. 8 of us line up and hit it pretty hard. The group is riding FAST but I'm hanging on. There is some pretty heavy duty slinky action going on as the pace line keeps contracting and expanding. It takes me about 4 laps to figure out that someone in the line ahead of me is accelerating around the corners. We are doing 1/2 lap pulls, which means that we are rotating at every half revolution of the track. My form isn't very good and I keep dropping back into the line too late which makes me have to surge to get back on the line. After about 6 laps, I can't hold on any longer. I'm still tuckered out pretty well from Tuesday's Fiesta 100 rpm spin fest and all the surging I'm doing isn't helping. I pull off and roll in gasping for air with my tail between my legs. Oh well, I guess I'm not as fast as I thought I was.

Next leg is the same but this time I ride with the "not so fast" groups and all is well. 8 laps at a pretty fast speed and the legs are starting to get a bit wobbly.

Next we move to today's game which is a pursuit variation. 8 of us start milling around the track. Two of the eight riders ride to the opposite side of the track. Once everyone is in position, the whistle blows and the group of 6 tries to catch the group of 2. Essentially we are simulating catching a breakaway by two attacking riders. The 6 of us are the peloton that have to hunt them down. The game ends if the breakaway can complete three laps before being caught by the peloton. More sprinting...and I'm about done. I'm dead tired. In the Tour de France it's called being "cracked". It's called "blowing up" at the track.

Last exercise is team sprint. 12 riders line up in rough order of speed and pace line around to complete 12 laps. Each rider gets one lap in the lead before pulling off so this means that the first rider completes only a single lap while the last rider completes the full 12. Mercifully, I take the 3rd position. Duty calls at Lap 3 and I give it all I have, which isn't much. I finally pull off and stagger in, gasping for air feeling like I'm going to puke.

All in all another intense workout. I've been doing a lot of riding lately, including a very difficult day the day before and haven't really been taking the track class too seriously. The velodrome is not a location to trifle with. All in all, very exhausting but very fun. Next week, I'm going to come in a little more rested

Training Log September 2-6

Monday: 3-ish mile hike at Torrey Pines State Beach

Tuesday: 20-Miles at Fiesta Island in 1-hour, 8 minutes. I worked on my cardio and tried to have my pedalling cadence stay at 100 RPM for the entire session. Totals were 20 miles at an average speed of 17.6 MPH with an average cadence of 98 rpm. What a tremendous workout.

Wednesday: Very difficult track class at the Velodrome.

Thursday: Day off after the near death experience at the track.

Friday: 'nother rest day and Silent Movie Nerd Fest II with my buddy, Noel.

Saturday: 65-miles with the Team and beyond.

Sunday: No noodle for me. Worked and then went to visit my sister who is in CA visiting family.

Congratulations - A Wedding

Congrats to my beautiful cousin, Arlene and her new husband, Brian who were married this weekend. It was great to see everyone and I was only asked 19 times when I was getting married. This is a record low for the last few weddings I've been to, so maybe people are starting to give up on me ;)

Here's a photo of the bride and groom and 24 of my closest family members.

Training Games

Second session of Tucson training was 35 Miles up and down the Oceanside bike path. I rode with the extended B3/C team which is an amalgam of upper intermediate and advanced riders. Halfway through the session, we broke up into two groups and started into some training games. Tucson is a race and the important thing in a race is to be able to latch onto a group of riders and share the effort in a peloton. The method that usually happens is by you surging/sprinting trying to catch a pack of riders to hang on to. The problem is that if you go too hard, you are wasted by the time you get there so you have to gauge you effort. The pace line did a steady 18 MPH and then the lead rider drops back but instead of re-attaching at the end of the pace line, they drift back 25 yards or so and then try to catch up and latch on without braking or pooping out. When my time came, I sped up to 20 MPH and was able to catch the group very easilty without expending too much effort. Pretty interesting and useful exercise.

No extra mileage today, as I'm going to a wedding!