All miles are not created equal

Friday found me dodging storm fronts again. A goose provided good entertainment for part of the commute. He was perched atop this water born pagoda honking his head off. Soon after his mate swam out from under the walkway and peace was restored.




The afternoon was again riding between rain fronts.




The trail was nice and wet but luckily not too much standing water. Have I mentioned how much I love the ATT?




Here's a bit of an action shot. Proof for my dad that I did play in the rain but did not get my shoes wet (inside joke).



I splurged a bit on dinner Friday night at Ruby Tuesday. Their chicken fingers and fries are nearly irresistible to me. Luckily the fries weren't great so I left several. I did manage to lead off with a huge salad. Props to Ryan for recommending Beer in place of Soda. Blue moon helped keep my soda avoidance streak running. Hops over HFCS. Wonder if the boss would buy that?

Saturday morning the trails were still wet. The rain had stopped but clouds were still plentiful when Rebecca and I set off for our Saturday ride. We opted to for what we call the ATT Southern Loop. For us this goes down the paved section by South Point Crossing, on Fayetteville past Sout Point Mall, picks up the trail at Massey Chapel, and then continues South to New Hill terminus.




We stopped at New Hill to snack on ride food.



The ride back from New Hill was interesting. ~3miles of the ATT south of 40 are paved. The rest is crushed gravel, crushed limestone, or similar softer surface. This surface is great for training. It's 30+ miles round trip of long slow burn with few street crossings. The softer surface usually calls for a bit more energy to sustain the pace. With all the rain we were leaving deep but not damaging tracks. This made for much more work on the bike. Rebecca sustained a heart rate around 150 for most of the ride. I fared better. When we reached Chatham county section with paved and gravel surface I ran a bit of experiment. With Rebecca riding on the pavement and me on the gravel our heartrates were finally similar in the 150's. Turns out Rebecca had been pushing hard all morning. This is a great training ride. It's a bit ambitious for a recovery week. We called it done when we reached home opting to drive to Mellow Mushroom for lunch so we could make other appointments on time. 37 miles mostly over soft terrain. We covered a few errands at Bull City Running and REI to boot. If you need a good running store try Bull City Running. Jason and Kim are great. Kudos to Jason for his recent 2:35 at Boston Marathon. Wow that is cruising, especially with hills.

The 800 calorie house calzone from Mellow Mushroom looked big when it arrived at our table. It didn't feel so big just minutes later. Neither did the double chocolate brownie. I drank water so reasoned with myself to trade the brownie for the phosphoric acid of soda.

Rebecca was done for the day. I wanted more miles to hit a maybe-could-be-I'm-uncommitted-but-toying-with goal. Over lunch I decided a quick spin over to Umstead park sounded great. Form home I set out on backroads winding my way to the Reedy Creek entrance of Umstead. Pushing the pace and getting turned around a few times I arrived without time for the single loop of Umstead I'd hoped for. It was a good ride either way. The low slung evening sun made a pleasant view of Lake Crabtree.




It wasn't really that dark, I was just trying to capture the sun's reflection on the water. The iPhone camera is adequate and convenient. Here's a better view of ambient light and lengthening shadows.





Heading home I forwent the detours of the route out. The thought of getting home is great for negative splits. Now if I could just adopt transition has 'home' for a triathlon. I jammed on the brakes to snap this Durham Co sign and text to Rebecca. It's good to keep loved ones informed of whereabouts. Too bad location tracking is so battery intensive on the iPhone. Maybe the recent fuss about iOS and Android doing automatic location tracking will beget further advances in technology. If the device is grabbing data then at least make it useful.




This beautiful sunset greeted me as I crested the last hill heading toward home. I've seen several of these recently. This hill has a great vantage point for sunsets. Bonus that it's pretty much required pavement for any eastward venture.




Sunday we did a requisite one hour run. Then we biked up the ATT to Durham for Lunch and then over to Duke Gardens. The gardens were hopping with people. On the way home I asked Rebecca to help with a good samaritan activity. On Friday I saw a Kroger grocery cart ditched off the side of the ATT about 1 mile north of Kroger. I thought it would be 'interesting' to escort the cart back to where it belonged. And it would help keep the train clean to boot. I drew quite the looks pedaling along dragging a shopping cart and making rowdy noise. Shopping cart wheels are not built for cycling speeds. Pulling into the Kroger parking lot a mallard hen had little appreciation for my good deed. She waddled out in front me, despite the horrendous noise, and proceeded across the road as if she owned it. Rebecca and I got quite a laugh about the gusto of that little duck. With the cart returned we headed home after a good day out and about.

Settling down on Sunday I've covered 98 miles this weekend for 215 total on the week. Miles hammering, miles sightseeing, miles dragging a shopping card, miles slogging through soft wet gravel. All miles are not created equal. Cycling miles hold a little something for everyone.

Back in the saddle avoiding the road

The American Tobacco Trail is a phenomenal local resource. I reveled in peaceful miles after purchasing a Tricross last year. Chatham county may have the perfect section of trail. 2/3 paved and 1/3 gravel.



This is the perfect combination for fast miles or a softer surface with more resistance. The soft side is great for building power on the bike or soft impact running. There are a few street crossings that warrant brakes. Long gradual uphills make sweat while long gradual downhills make 20mph ear to ear grins.

Biking is good. Biking on the ATT is better. Railtrail gives me hope. Railroad previously depreciated property values. Railtrail is now an asset. Railroads were once the evil Goliath. This point of view is no doubt skewed from politics, news, literature, and the separation of time. Still, their legacy is pretty nice. What else can you do with property miles long but feet wide? Make a bicycling heaven.

Plans are looking up for another Silver Comet trip this year. Maybe even new friends this time around. Now I just need to complete New River. And find a way to do GAP/C&O. The recent positive Amtrak experience may be a building block for both. How many miles of railtrail are there?

Today was my first morning bike commute of the year without sleeves. After 20 years of acclimating to Georgia summers I do like it warm. Warm and humid. Don't send me north in the winter or to the desert. Base layers remain an unsolved mystery.

Spring is rejuvenating. Goals are targets. Focus on targets out there and ignore the targets on your back. Pretty much agree with that guy who said shoot for the moon and even coming up short will be great.

http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20100110203412AARQqSC

Tornadoes and Tumbles

There are some great rides on the NCBC website. One option in particular appealed to me. Take an Amtrak train to Greensboro and bike back to Raleigh. This really appealed to my sense of adventure.

The ride to Raleigh was a bit long for our party for this early in the season. Bailing at Durham seemed perfect. The Piedmont train offers bike racks allowing riders to just wheel the bikes to the baggage car without worrying about boxes or assembly.

With nominal discussion three of us agreed and committed. The biggest grievance seemed to be the 5am wake up call to roll at 6 to catch the train at 7:22.

By Friday re-planning was unavoidable. Storms arriving Saturday had already caused tornadoes and deaths as they crossed the country. We adjusted everything to Sunday and even picked up another rider.

On Saturday Rebecca and I squeezed in a 90 minute run between storm fronts. After recovery, lunch, shower, and nap
I flipped on the TV. Local networks were running special coverage of tornadoes in NC. one touched down inside two miles of the homes of several friends. We hurriedly confirmed the safety of friends in the area including two of our train/bike adventure crew. There was some power and cable outage but everyone was safe.

Sunday morning started well enough. Everyone arrived on time. We managed to leave 10 minutes late but we planned a buffer just for that. A few of us are consistently punctuality challenged. That may be why we get along so well.



We were all ablaze with lights. There were a few concerns about visibility in the dark. Everyone seemed well prepared with ample lights both front




And rear




So maybe there were only two of the one watt rear red lights. It was perfect for our group with one in the lead and one in the rear. The sun was up within 20 minutes of setting out for our cycling adventure.

The Durham Amtrak station was very nice. The attendants were very helpful. Everything came together well despite my morning incoherence, the distracting glow of neon vests, tickets in two orders, and the general mayhem associated with group cycling.



Tickets for the bikes and passengers. The whole experience left us feeling reassured and jovial. Our novice excitement showed through some.






At boarding time I think we were the brunt of a joke. Cyclists were supposed to load at platform 5. The train didn't even reach to platform 5. When the train arrived we scurried down to platform 2. It worked out for the best. All other baggage was complete by the time we arrived to handover our bikes.

All aboard and rolling. My green in the ticketing process shined as brightly as my neon jacket. First we didn't sign them. Quick consensus was for me to sign them all. I quickly estimated it would be faster to tear them out and sign them. Rip. Then the ticket lady cautioned against tearing them. Next we all had to show ID. Odd, no one else on the train did. With sufficient shuffling of cycling supplies we eventually located four IDs. We were outsiders to this community or maybe just suspicious looking with our bikes, gear, an neon jackets. Several people inquired but none could fathom riding a bike over the 60 miles from Greensboro to Raleigh.

Finally underway but still under the watchful eye most we almost fell victim to the train lull and nervous energy. I set an alarm for backup before I observed the tricks the ticket agents used to track our arrival and departure stops. This was more unexpected but welcomed personal attention. How did the airlines get it so wrong?



In Greensboro we carefully navigated the steep rail car stairs in bike shoes with cleats. I was amazed no one bit it on the way down. Cycling shoes are not exactly graceful and neither are we. At the baggage car we receive our bikes in pristine condition. The bike racks are really nice.

The train wisked away. The platform was barren and empty. The solitude of our endeavor set in very quickly. The reality was harsh and accompanied by a brisk wind. We bonded for preservation very quickly. Everyone reapplied warm layers. Gear was sorted and stowed, items exchanged, and no bikes, people, or gear hit the ground in the process. We were off. We quickly covered the 50 feet to the escalator and elevator. I was eyeing the escalator while Kenneth and Rebecca figured out the elevator. They won and we stacked 4 people and 4 bikes into one elevator without even triggering a door alarm. Exiting the elevator we found ourselves again in a clean and comfortable train station. Again we received careful stares as we navigated the depot for restrooms, food arrangements, and last minute orientation. It was a sense of cozy awareness. It wasn't the M-16 escort you might find in a modern airport.

There is something different and special about the trains and depots. It's a slower more comfortable and more amenable place. It's a private cul-de-sac contrasted with interstate hostility of airports. It's mass transit but it's different. It was clean. It wasn't frantic or tattered. It wasn't vandalized. It was comfortable in a good way. it might warrant a repeat performance.

Out the door and to the right we hit the road. The escape from Greensboro was peaceful enough. I don't mean anything bad towards Greensboro. Big cities with busy streets just don't tend to be bike friendly. We encountered a couple traffic lights that wild not trigger for bikes and a few boisterous dogs on leashes. All in all very mundane.




Crossing 85 we were headed into the rural and unknown. There were a few hills early on the route that elicited groans. The legs got warm, sun got warm, the hills may have calmed some, and the moods improved.

Soon we were rolling through rural countryside enjoying views of rolling fields. We frequently rode two across chatting about the surroundings. There was no traffic. It felt like home on a bike. I was lulled into familiar comfort. It reminded me of the multi-day silver comet and new river railtrail rides from last year. We stopped at mile 16 for the last chance gas station for 40 mikes. It was a proper country store that carried a little of *everything*. These stores are amazing to me. In some ways they are well oiled machines from a different time. They are ready to provide what is needed. Needs first, wants second. Everything has a value that was proven over time. Time is real here, it is not 10,000 simulated iterations in lintel.

We also learned at the country store that our fourth ride and latest addition may not have had the time in the saddle we all assumed. The original plan called for 61 miles of cycling. Add in 6 more miles for the morning ride TI the train station. Add in 10 more miles for lower traffic roads. 76 miles becomes a bug jump from 50. 50 was last year's longest ride. It was going to be a long day. We re- committed to steady hydration/nutrition and a moderate pace.

Further down the road we topped one particularly nice climb when Rebecca called for a stop. It was time to shed the warm gear. Off with pants, leg warmers, sleeves, and ear covers. On with the sunscreen. With food refreshed and panniers repacked we started down the next hill. Spirits, sun, and temperature high it was time fir some high quality cycling on the backroads of NC. Life was good.

I led most of the time following GPS directions and pointing out obstacles. We enjoyed one bumpy ride over Griffin road. Definitely less used and less maintained asphalt. We turned onto Major Hill road with caution. Rebecca audibly hoped for Mr. Major Hill over major hill elevation.

Major Hill was rolling along fine with no major elevations to fret. Suddenly two large black dogs approached from a home on the left. They looked like well groomed lab mixes. They were just large and black and a little too close and loud for comfort. Their direction changed to parallel ours as they approached the road. The situation was starting to improve when 3 equally large equally black but slightly louder dogs from the next house joined in. They didn't stop at the road side. I grabbed for a water bottle. I've had good success with a sudden squirt to the face and loud yell in providing sufficient shock value to thwart chase enough for me to pedal away. I couldn't get my bottle open before the first dog passed me. If it had been just me I would have been ok. This time my friends were along too.

The three dogs entered the road and emboldened the other two. There wasn't vicious growling but there didn't need to be. It was just a bad mixture - cyclists and big strange dogs - kind of like matches and gasoline.

It may have been a yelp, it may have been a scream, or it may just be what burned into my memory. Over my left shoulder I saw a bike t-bone a dog and a cyclist in mid air over the handle bars.

After the yelp the dogs darted away back to the left side of the road and their associated properties. There was impact on the hard surface, scraping on the abrasive asphalt, and blood.

Three of us dropped our bikes in the ditch and rushed to our fallen friend. Quick assessment - skinned knee, skinned hip, skinned knuckles, head impact, and an immediate knot on the right hand about the size of a walnut. Mental inventory told me the first aid kit was at home in the drawer labeled emergency/rescue. I brought spare links for all chains but no first aid kit. Chain breaks are so much more common than dog encounters.

By this time the home owners came out to check on the barking. We negotiated first aid and they eventually offered a ride to a store down the road. Our cyclist was brave but her hand was in no condition to ride. She inquired of the status of her bike. She was getting serious about riding away and it felt like a really bad idea. We reassembled around the two ladies with their bikes catching a ride with the wife homeowner to the next store. Kenneth and I would hammer the ride to Durham, pickup cars, and come back.

The next while is a bit of blur. I rode hard. I tried to keep Kenneth in my draft zone with intermittent success. I really need to learn the arts of group riding. Entering Chapel Hill Rebecca indicated they had caught a ride with a friend. They were headed to Durham. At this point we sat up and relaxed a bit. Chapel Hill really is on a hill coming from the west.

We arrived by bike shortly before they arrived by car. The timing was really pretty good as we quickly divided gear and they set off for the hospital. Several hours later we got the news - broken hand.

Best wishes on a painless, speedy, and thorough recovery to our last minute 4th cyclist. We expected a tough day of adventure just not this direction or extent.

This ride and riding in general are tarnished. This is my second close brush with injury during a ride. The last time a friend snapped his collarbone and had to walk 20 minutes out of the woods to a 1 hour drive to the hospital. After that I stopped biking for quite a while. Only time will tell with this one.

There were a few minutes of beauty in an otherwise rough weekend. Thoughts out to all those who lost this weekend be it tornadoes or tumbles.

Rebecca's perspective on the day: Greensboro to Durham: This One's for Mariana.

Stats:
Touring Greensboro to Snowcamp
Hammering Snowcamp to Durham

Slimed, in a good way

I opted for a Slime tube after my most recent bike flat. Ride time is precious - more pedaling, less sitting on the side of the road.

The slime tube rolled just two short weeks before tryouts. Friday mornings are notoriously busy. Three miles into my commute I hear spewing air. As soon as I recognize it the sound stops. Green slime decorates the bike but air stays in the tire. Slime got me to work on time, showered, fed, and ready for a barrage of meetings. I didn't have time to inspect the damage but did revel in rewards of planning. That earns kudos with me.

The slime held through the day and the evening commute without stopping for maintenance. Another rush of air erupted on the way home and slime doubled down. I was thrilled and concurrently learning the extent of my borrowed time.

I wheeled into REI on route to pickup new tires previously ordered and tossed in a couple new slime tubes devoid of any buyers remorse. People on the trail got quite a kick out of me biking along with two bike tires draped around my torso. I tried strapping them to the panniers first but they slumped down against the rolling wheel. I reasoned most cars would not fair much better in attempts to haul a full set of fresh treads for themselves. I needed something to ponder with my slower speed and extra ride time.

Garmin shows over 600 miles of biking since January 1. Worn tires on the bike vouch for those and some extra from last year. Tires are the first step. New drive train and aerobars are in queue. I really like the current bar tape job. Lincoln at Bicycle Chain in Chapel Hill does nice work. The tape will have to be replaced to remove brake levers and add aerobars. Spokes and wheels may need some TLC as well.

Successfully wearing out a part is a point of pride and opportunity for investment. My mountain bike tires fell victim to dry rot first. I wore out BMX tires earlier in life mostly with gratuitous breaking and slide outs. Truly wearing out a tire was cool. Road bike tires don't count because they are barely there from the beginning. The new bike tires have wire beads and Kevlar. Inset treads should provide smooth ride with sone traction on softer terrain. Miles will judge the efficacy. Personally I'm excited at the prospect of trying to wear these out.



Another noteworthy change is my renewed attempts to escape the death grip of sugar in the forms of pepsi, coke, and sweet tea. Simply being from the south is a 10 point penalty on health. These sugars do not help. I do favor a soda tax.

Day 1 was tough ending in headache. That just reinforces the extent of the problem. Days 2&3 were easier. My next big challenge comes on Monday with return the office an then again around the one week mark when "what's the harm in just one" rears it's siren song. The problem is there isn't just one. Three days in, 18 remaining to make it a habit. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, ...

Between the rain

I've been enjoying a sting of bike to work days. The recent joys are borderline sufficient to overcome my angst about riding in the rain. Well, the joys and new bright red LED taillight. Today I rolled the dice with persistent 60% chance of rain. Forecast showed rain moving in from southwest near the end of the morning commute. Racing rain and combating morning rush hour is a great recipe for success; what could go wrong? This all got me started and kicking earlier this morning. As I crossed I-40 my adversaries were clear with heavy traffic on the roads and rain clouds to the west.



My shadow gives away the crisp morning sun to the east. At least there was sun, at least there was a chance. Traffic cooperated and the miles ticked away. Crossing northeast creek and starting a long slow climb the ominous wind gusts started. Uphill headwind makes for great training. With three miles to go the clouds overtook the sun and provided a clear sense of urgency. Fast or wet - my choice.

Approaching the bottom of one of the steeper climbs on route I saw a familiar shadow at the crest. A fellow bike commuter was just approaching the summit. That was motivation enough to double down. I attacked the hill bent on beating the rain and catching the commuter. Gotta love motivation. Quads pushed and hammies pulled opposing pedals so pain peaked with altitude. My mark was clearly in sight. When I made out heavy mountain bike tires I felt the sun shine anew. Rolling resistance, the element of surprise, and the threat of rain were all in my favor. The great chase ended without any of the hyperbole of my dreams. I dropped into his slipstream and greeted with "Beautiful morning for a ride".

John was on his first 15 mile bike commute of the year. We exchanged pleasantries, routes, and destinations until our paths parted ways. Parallels as simple as sharing the same road build great camaraderie in the right conditions. Conditions are rarely wrong on the bike.

I cycled through the literal ups and downs of the last mile dry and optimistic. Garmin duly noted the aggressive climbing and strong headwind with appreciably higher calorie burn. It is a good day to be a bike commuter. Let it pour until time for the evening commute.