Brevet Bike: round 1

With the first brevet this weekend, yesterday was a dry run with the beta version of the brevet bike. Basically, I’ve taken my cross bike and added a double chain ring in the front (39×53) with a 105 derailleur and lever and hefty 25c tyres. At present I’m running by American Classic cross wheelset, though they’ve seen a fair bit of abuse and will be replace with a sturdy 32 spoke set of DT Swiss wheels.

I picked up the bike at 5:30 and got a 1.5 hour spin around town in before the sun went down. I tried to take it at a near tempo pace to get the feel for the bike. The verdict, it feels like I’m riding a cross bike around. I’ve been getting used to my light and sprightly road bike, and this set up felt a bit sluggish in comparison, but it also felt sturdy and comfortable, which I think will be the far more important characteristics come August.

There remain a few things that I might change up on the bike as time goes on. I’ve always wanted to change out the horribly anodized stem that turned from black to bronze the first time I rode the bike in the sun. This is a pretty low priority issue from the standpoint of the fit and performance of the bike, but I will have to stare at that thing for thousands of miles this year! I’m going to pull off the cross levers to clear up a bit more space on the bars. I like the ability to stop from up there, and it might be nice to have an extra breaking mechanism at 2AM, but it comes an a high price in terms of cockpit real estate. I’ll certainly be changing out the saddle; I’m now running the mid-range Bontrager saddle that came on the bike just because it was what was around. Its not bad, and fine over 45 minutes of cross racing, but its heavy and not particularly comfortable over a whole day of riding. There were some negotiations at the bar last night to get a hold of an Italia Trans Am Gel Flow which will find its way onto this rig or the new IF (a ProLink will grace the other). To complete the comfort region of the bike, I’m thinking I may also switch out the seatpost (a Thompson aluminum or *gasp* something carbon might be nice; this has about the same aesthetic importance as the stem, so it probably won’t happen).

Of course, there are a few changes that absolutely must happen between now and the 400K. The Poprad has eyelets in the back for a proper fender and rack. I’m still looking around a bit for lightish options on that front, and the enigmatic Charles Carter has said he could fashion some custom racks though I may not be able to wait his standard 4 year turn around on custom orders. The Alpha Q fork in the front doesn’t leave many options for attaching fenders, so I may go with the race blades up front.

We’re off tonight to begin the epic . .

looming

With thunderstorms dotting the radar all around State College, Billy, Jacob and I headed out at 5:30 with hopes of staying dry.  Billy and I rode the fixies and Jacob made his return to outdoor riding on a geared bike as we headed through town and out the Lower Lime loop.  A stiff tailwind all the way out to Bellefonte had Billy and I spinning at full tilt for the first half of the ride, but the rollers on Valley View Rd let our legs relax at a more human pace.  A huge grey cloud loomed over the west of town as we rolled back into town, but the rain held off and I pulled into the driveway dry.

I spent lunch communing with the new IF at the shop.  It looks beautiful!  Because of the threat of rain I’d not brought my camera down, but pictures will be coming soon.  Its mostly built, save brakes, saddle, and a new bottom bracket (the first one was just a stop gap measure).  A Reba Race fork with pop-loc is now gracing the front end and Avid Juicy 7’s will provide stopping power.  Seatpost and stem by Thompson, drivetrain by White Industries, Salsa Delgado rims and promoto flat bar.

Magic Water

Two days of travel back from Santa Barbara left me wanting for the magic water today, and thankfully, the weather managed to provide the perfect opportunity. I was meant to get back Saturday night but a series of errors (some mine, some due to Northwest) had me spending the night in the Best Western at the Detroit Airport. Poor alarm clock operation, perhaps brought on by a long week of work, perhaps brought on by a long week of Californian wine, led to my missing my flight out of Santa Barbara on Saturday morning. But thankfully, I managed to get the next flight out and made my connection in LA. Alas, the correction was for naught as Northwest had already canceled the flight to State College (apparently under sold) and offered me a night of first class lodging at the Best Western for my troubles. Getting stuck at the airport is always a cultural experience. One would think it would be a great mixing pot of cultures and people, but apparently low travel volume on Saturday had me eating dinner at the hotel bar with a pretty one dimensional sample of mid-western culture. It appears that the only other people delayed in their flights that night were either white trash en route from one trailer park to another or a group of provincial middle aged women coming home from a “girls week” traveling in matching track suits and full jewels. The bar was littered with Budweiser long necks and cigarette butts, and I retreated to the back of the room in search of clean air in which to eat cheeseburger that was likely to have been frozen only minutes before. The upside to the evening was that it was karaoke night at the bar and a handful of local regulars (if there can be local regulars at an airport motel that appeared to be miles from any residential structures!) had showed up to croon the classics of the American songbook. Of note were a particularly soulful rendition of John Lennon’s Imagine and a stirring version of “Picture” the Kid Rock/ Sheryl Crowe duet by an overly enthusiastic 50 year old woman who’d gotten through life on the merits of her bossom and her good sport, if tone deaf, boyfriend.

I managed to touch down in State College late on a sunny Sunday afternoon that reminded me not only of the leisurely morning in bed of which I’d been robbed, but also the afternoon ride in the sunshine that would never be. So when the sun came out on Monday I took quick advantage and headed up for one of the great local climbing rides to Black Mo, and the therapeutic spring halfway up to spin the days of travel and cleanse my soul of its overexposure to the midwest. It wasn’t Gibraltar by any means, but climbing with the sprightly feel of carbon beneath me helped melt away the tension of a day lost in airport limbo.

The rest of the week will be focussed on bike preparation.  The first brevet is on Saturday.  At 200K I’m not terribly worried about the distance.  But it will be a good dry run for bike set up; I’ve got to try and get dual chainrings on the Poprad this week and sort out a rear light and fender set up (the latter may be put off until the 300).  Also, rumor has it that the IF is nearing completion, apparently the boys were busy while I was in Cali.  Pictures to follow after I visit the shop at lunch today!

Thursday: Gibraltar

Today the sun came out for real: 75 degrees and no clouds all day long. So after some brisk activity at work in the late afternoon I made it back to the hotel and got the bike for an attempt on Gibraltar Rd. The route was 13 miles uphill from the motel door, capping out at 3600 feet. I got out the door at 5:30 and was racing the sun up to the top to beat the sunset at 7. When I got to the top it was 6:45 so I rolled along the ridge at the top enjoying the views of the Catalina Islands to the south and the mountains to the north. It was hard to turn around, but I knew that descending in the dark would be bad so I parted with the high mountain air and headed back to the sea. It was about 25 minutes back down as the sun faded into the Pacific and I hit the Santa Barbara mission at dusk and rolled back down to motel in the fading light.

Its been said that you ride the bike you have, not the bike you want.  I’d have given anything to have the Madone on that climb.  But, without the option, a steel Seven did the trick.  I’ve got to give the bike back tomorrow, so this was my last ride in Cali, but it was a great way to end the week.  Back to the east coast on Saturday, hopefully spring will get there ahead of me.

Wednesday: finally sun

The sun finally came out today. Despite the bright morning I struggled to get to work at 8:30 and settled for a quick espresso at RoCo this morning. The sight of sunshine through the windows made the clock tick particularly slow today and it was just after 6 before I could make it out of work. Out the door, I sprinted back to the hotel and dropped off my computer before heading out again to spin up into the hills. Sunset was at 7, so I didn’t have much time and I opted for street clothes and headed up towards Gibraltar. After half an hour I’d made it up to Mountain Rd but didn’t have time to go exploring Gibraltar before dark and opted to cruise around looking for views of the Sunset. I managed to find little overlook park where I was afforded my first views of the Channel Islands and a descent view of the sunset. All told, I managed about an hour on the bike; not quite the effort I would have liked, but good enough to spin out a day stuck in the office.

Tuesday: March Muck

They call the weather here June Bloom. A heavy cold fog that blankets the coast in the morning but is meant to burn of when the sun hits its zenith at noon. Its something of a misnomer now as its neither June, nor does the fog pay any mind to the sun’s path. So, from what I’ve been told, the locals have renamed this the March Muck and the streets are full of bewildered Californians in shorts, heavy coats, and wool hats.

Looking for a bit of quiet time in the morning I spun through the local neighborhood until I found Reds Espresso Bar for the morning elixir and a breakfast burrito. Its not much to look at, but I couldn’t immediately find Rocho and there was a fixie parked outside that led me to think that this place might just do.

The days here have been long stretches of confinement and nerdiness, punctuated by wine and meals (at the expense of the National Science Foundation). Today the sun managed to creep out a little in the afternoon an I got to take a little spin for half an hour around the town. The sun may return tomorrow. I have hopes of blowing off a little work and getting up Gibraltar Rd. We’ll see how that goes over with the group.

Sunday: to the mountains

I was awoken by nearly 200 lbs of Rotweiler laying on me and licking my face at 7AM. There are worse wake up calls, and this one was soon followed by a large plate of eggs and toast and coffee. After a bit of morning fortification we loaded up the car for a long excursion on the mountain bikes. I’d be riding Larry’s custom steel Seven. The fit was nearly spot on, though a bit more upright than I’m used to on the 29er. I hesitated a little at the little wheels and all the shifty bits, but the latter would turn out to be useful as the day progressed. We’d be spending the day at altitude, with little access to water, so we packed heavily and each of us carried a Camelback laden with food and extra water.
About 40 minutes drive put us at the trail head at Sisar Rd where we mounted up and started off (about 9:50) on a 12 mile climb that would take us nearly 4000 feet further up to the ride maximum of about 7000 feet. The road up was a rugged jeep track that gave way from lush forest to dry scrub as we climbed. At the base we covered up in arm and leg warmers and vests, but a few miles into the climb we broke through the cloud layer and felt the full blast of the sun. We stripped down for the second half of the climb and marveled at the views of the mountains in 3 directions and the blanket of white clouds that obscured the Pacific Ocean to the West.
After an eternity of climbing we turned downhill on singletrack down the edge of the Rose Valley. Within 100 meters, Richie, leading the way on his new carbon Anthem, came across a group of hikers in a technical rock section and amazed them with a spectacular yard sale. Larry then informed us that the bells on his handlebar were meant to alert hikers of our presence, not to deter mountain lions as we’d assumed (apparently in Santa Barbara, the bells are free at trailheads, provided by local riding clubs to ease tensions among cyclists and hikers looking to close access to the trails). The descent took us 5-6 miles down a spectacular, semi-technical side hill that at times was little more than 4-5 inches of slightly raised shale on a 500 foot exposed slope. At the bottom we got onto a section of rolling up and down through a dry river bed that dropped us out at the midpoint of the ride in the Rose Valley campground.
After a break for lunch Larry offered us a short, steep option (with an extra downhill payoff) or a long gradual options. Fools that we were, Richie and I agreed to the former and we headed up a formerly paved road that took us up 2000 feet in 2 miles (that’s 20-25 percent grade!). I sang praises to my granny gear the whole way up as I struggled to stay on top of the bike (I failed a few times, but managed to ride most of it). At the top we began an exposed 3 mile descent to the Gridley trail, which took us an additional 5 miles down to the road. Rolling down Gridley took us back down to the cloud layer and from 85 degrees to 60. Halfway down we passed through the clouds and the air became cool thick, and the vegetation went from pale and dry to a vibrant green. Just below the clouds I managed two flats in 100 meters, one a ripped sidewall and one a pinch flat (damned low volume 26ers!) so I took the bottom half of the descent at a ginger pace.
The trail dropped us out on the road, from which we had to climb back over to the trailhead where we’d left the car. The route took us back over Rt 150 on a part of the TOC course, the climb painted with messages for the riders and markings for a KOM. At the top we had a few miles of flat and rollers that put us back at the car at 4:10. Roughly 6 hours out, at least 5 pedaling. We estimated the route at 50ish miles and about 10,000 feet of climbing. We quickly ate everything we’d not consumed on the ride and headed back in to town, the whole way making plans for the Mexican feast we’d pick up on the way.
We stopped in downtown Ventura on the way home to pick up burritos and quesadillas from a little hole in the wall who’s clientele was predominantly Mexican (a good sign in an region with many Mexican joints to choose from). As we pulled in to the drive we were met by Mark Nobel and his partner who joined us for a meal that would put El Campesino to shame (though I still love that place!). Mark is a US National champion cyclocross rider (2007 40+), former track olympian (England 1988), father of Chance Nobel (U23 cyclocross worlds team), and all around fun guy. Despite my need to get up tp Santa Barbara for work, it was difficult to tear myself away from this cycling oasis I’d found at Larry and Sheryl’s place. So it was with a heavy heart that I packed up my things after dinner and said goodbye to my new friends and their wonderful dogs. Not to be outdone, Larry insisted that I take his Seven with me for the week in Santa Barbara. I don’t know how much use I will find for it, but I feel a strong need put that bike to use to repay Larry his amazing hospitality.

Saturday: Road to the sun

We were up at 6:40 and out the door at 7. We’d been warned that, unlike what were used to, 7:15 means 7:15 and we’d be left behind if late. So at 7 AM we were told, in a firm voice, by Sheryl to “stop cleaning up and go ride your bikes!”; to which we were happy to comply. We met up at a local shop and headed out at 7:17 with a group of about 20 guys to head up the Pacific Coast Highway to Santa Barbara. Aside from one detour with a short climb, the first half of the ride was pancake flat along the water and the group motored along at 20-25 mph. The morning fog was thick and I kept arm and knee warmers on all the way up ot SB, when we turned inland up to the foothills. From there, we rolled along the contour, up above Santa Barbara in an area that is meant to have spectacular views when the sun is out, but is pretty remarkable even when the fog prohibits looking beyond the multi-million dollar hillside homes. As we dropped down out of the hills and back into the flats, the sun came out and the pace heated up as several of the guys started in on the pace line. The rotation was choppy and the slowing and accelerating started shelling guys off the back. When we hit Rt 150 and headed up a short climb the group blew apart and I stopped at the top to wait for Larry and Richie while the spunky bunch decided to roll through back to Ventura. When Riche and Larry caught up they recommended that I head up to Lake Clarita along the TOC route while they took the coastal route home. So I split off alone up the climb where I could see the sunshine I’d been chasing all day. As I approached the top I started to see the paint on the road from the TOC KOM’s. From the top of the pass I could look down to Santa Clarita and see all the surrounding mountains out towards Ojai. The initial descent was fast, but the rest of the ride back into Ventura was basically a descent, though at times at a low enough grade that I still had to struggle into the headwind. Around the lake I jumped on the bike path into Ventura. Town was crazy as I’d just missed the St. Patrick’s day parade and the sidewalks were still crammed with green clad onlookers. I rolled into the house around 1:30 with close to 100 miles in the saddle. Richie and Larry had been home a bit and already had food started (I could SO get used to this place) and I was greeted with lunch when I walked in the door.

After a nap (everyone, including the dogs) we all started in to organizing for an evening dinner party for the local cycling posse. The food was fabulous, salmon, squash soup, salad, curried rice. For dessert, Larry made a special concoction of vanilla ice cream and Little Debbie Nutty Bars. The crowd was great and everyone rode and shared their stories of the day’s various rides. By the end of dinner it was 12:30 east coast time and time to head to bed. Tomorrow morning we’ve got a lengthy mountain bike ride planned.

Friday: Transit

I didn’t quite know what was going on at 4:15 on Friday morning when the alarm went off. After a few stumbling steps I realized that I was up on purpose and I went to the window to see if it was snowing yet. No snow, hopefully the flight would leave on time. Even more disorienting was that Sophie was not at the bottom of the stairs to welcome me. I bumbled through breakfast and didn’t make coffee in the hopes that there were still a few hours of sleep to be had on the flights. Nita and I left the house at 5:15 and snow was just starting to fall. Traveling was largely a blur, but thankfully, the trip was unremarkable, flights left on time, transfers were easy, baggage all made it.

Walking to my gate for the last transfer to Santa Barbara I heard my name and turned to see a
bunch of guys from Freddy Fu in Pittsburg who were on their way to San Luis Obispo for a few days of training.

Off the plane in Santa Barbara it was sunny and 65 with a stiff sea breeze. Richie was waiting with car and we drove into town in search of coffee. Santa Barbara has the air of a town that wants
to be Beverly Hills but still hasn’t gotten rid of all the riff-raff. Richie and I stopped off at a coffee spot that he knew from the old days and sat in the sun for 10 minutes sipping our brew before looking at each other and deciding we were wasting time that could be spent riding. 10 steps towards the car we came across a Time factory shop and a few old friends of Richie’s so
we paused amongst some of the prettiest carbon construction in the world to catch up.

We were staying in Ventura, about 20 minutes away from Santa Barbara. As we headed to the front door Richie warned me that we’d be greeted by two huge, but gentle rotweilers. As soon as the door opened we were nearly knocked over by Cali and Santos who licked us all over and begged for attention. Almost before meeting Larry and Sheryl (the humans of the house) I was handed a bowl of dog treats to make my peace with the dogs. We went through their littany of tricks, including the best play dead and rollover I’ve seen and made quick friends.

After introductions to Larry and Sheryl we headed to the garage to select bikes for a quick tour of Ventura. Richie and Larry took road bikes and I mounted Larry’s Poprad which was set up almost identically to mine at home. While we were setting up Sheryl came out with plates of cheese, crackers, and veggies that made it hard to roll out. But, after tearing ourselves away from the food, we headed through town and up to an overlook that afforded beautiful views of the hills that we’d be riding over the weekend. We then dropped back down to town and rode down to the water. Down low it was cool and foggy and many of the locals we passed were bundled as though it were deep winter. After about an hour (perfect distance to spin the flights out) we returned home to
more food (this time dishes of curried rice that were a teaser for the dinner party on Saturday).
Richie made a few calls to check up on my bike for Saturday and we headed off to pick it up. I’d
be riding Eric Christanson’s prize Fondriest, a beautiful, one off aluminum machine with stenciled and chromed lettering and accents and chromed drops on the aluminum fork. She was also outfitted with 10 speed Record and Rolf Vector Pro’s and may top the list as the prettiest bike I will ever ride (though the new IF is gonna be sweet!). Eric, who works for Giant, is also a champion drag racer and we got a full tour of his souped up Ranchero and got to hear him roar the engine, much to the chagrin of his neighbors. Eric’s wife, Kim, works for Sammy Hagar (yes, that Sammy Hagar) marketing his Cabo Wabo Tequila and we pulled out of the house with six mini-bottles of agave nectar and a stack of “the tequila made me do it” t-shirts.

Back at home we were again greeted by a meal. This time it was turkey and mashed potatoes and gravy and green beans (bless you Sheryl!) before heading off to sleep ahead of the planned 7:15 ride.

Baggage

Yesterday, in a break in the rain, I managed a little hour around town on the fixie just to spin the legs out and in the evening I had a long soak in the hot tub.  So today, for the first time, my legs feel recovered from the weekend.  Dialing in recovery is going to be the key to getting through this year.  The brevet schedule has us with a few close events, and squeezing in the occasional road or mountain bike race will add to the demands each weekend.

Today its raining in earnest and I’ll be staying dry and packing for the week in Santa Barbara.  Richie says we’ll get 75-80 miles on the group ride Saturday morning.  I’m hoping that we’ll get a few miles on the trail as well.  It’s been a while since I’ve ridden singletrack and I’m getting the itch.