May 27, 2013

Drippity Drop

The color of the sky was Ominous Gray. I considered my options over breakfast. Rain is possible in the Bay Area in May, but the showers on the radar map were well to the north. Any rainfall would likely be brief, and light; if not, I could easily find shelter and wait for the storm to pass. Thinking back to being soaked in a downpour last fall, why would I hesitate over mere clouds this morning?

With a late start for a short ride, I opted to bike there. After we completed the second climb, our leader suggested we chase a few more hills. My fellow cyclists hemmed and hawed; today being a holiday, they had slotted this little ride ahead of their picnics and barbecues. After I cast my lot with the leader, most of the group came around. A departing rider assured us the hills ahead were less steep than the hills behind.

He was almost right. (I nearly stalled out on the last one.)

From the street, this structure looked more like some mod hotel, but we were definitely in a residential zone.

For the day, a healthy 48 miles with some 2,550 feet of climbing. On the way home, I got a little wet. Hardly worth mentioning. Really.

May 25, 2013

Biking to Sunshine

Herewith, a tour of Bay Area microclimates. First, we rolled through the dry golden hills of the peninsula on a breezy day.

Up and over the ridge, we skirted along the edge of the El Corte de Madera Creek Open Space Preserve. Wet pavement, blustery winds, and green fields were gifts from the marine layer above us.

The public segment of Bear Gulch West ends in a redwood grove. It is essential to shift into your lowest gear before you stop; the first mile of your return trip is a tad steep (12.3% grade, on average).

When I added a flower to my seat bag on Bling Your Bike at Work Day, I did not imagine how popular it would be. Even on Old La Honda Road, where cyclists often take themselves far too seriously, I caught some compliments and smiles.

The winds were fierce at a particular elevation on both sides of the ridge. I enjoyed a lovely car-free descent of Kings Mountain, with a little extra caution for unpredictable gusts.

By the time I reached the historic Woodside Store, some 31 miles into the ride, the water in my bottles was refreshingly chilled.

42 miles, 4360 feet of climbingand don't it feel good!

May 19, 2013

Grade Inflation

Over the past 10 years, I have sampled many organized rides. For some, once was enough. But year after year, I eagerly register for Strawberry Fields Forever. The first time I signed up, it rained and I skipped the event altogether. One year, it was so blistering hot I packed my bandana with ice and wore it around my neck. Another year, the cold fog drizzled and made us miserable for the first few miles.

Today, the weather was perfect. Just warm enough for the fragrance of ripe strawberries to waft across the fields.

Before meandering through the farmland of Monterey and Santa Cruz counties, our first rest stop is always hosted at Calfee Design. The airstrip must be seeing more use these days; there were new gates and signs (look both ways, indeed). When was the last time you bicycled across an active runway?

The water in the Pajaro River was beautifully clear, despite the colorful patches of growth on its surface.

The event organizers must be getting soft on us; this year, they dropped the challenging Tustin grade from the traditional route. The climb to lunch at Royal Oaks Park, however, is unavoidable. I dropped into my lowest gear and motored along, passing a few people who opted to walk. When a woman riding nearby asked me about the climb, and the rest of the route, I could tell her this was the toughest part. Based on my perceived difficulty, I told her I thought the grade was 9%-10%. At lunch, another woman insisted it was 17%. [No way.] People take great pride in the instantaneous readings of their cycling computers; unfortunately, such readings are unreliable.

You can count on seeing some unusual sights at this event. Women decked out in pink feather boas or tutus, as if they had cycled in from the Cinderella ride. One guy riding with a full-sized floor pump protruding horizontally from his backpack. As this unicyclist approached a paddock, I watched a horse saunter over to the fence for a closer look; after he passed, the horse turned tail and walked away—not the least bit interested in the recumbent.

After my hiatus from cycling in March and April, I was concerned about how I would fare on this ride; that motivated me to step up my training. A tad over 61 miles, with some 2,935 feet of climbing—at an average speed of 12.3 mph (whew, same as last year).

Oh, and that climb to lunch? Surprisingly, two-tenths of a mile averaging 13%. [It didn't feel that bad.]

May 15, 2013

BIK LAN

Reacting to several tragic accidents on California State Highway 9 between the towns of Saratoga and Los Gatos, funds were found for critical safety improvements. Bike lanes have been in place for a couple of years; more recently, a few sidewalk segments have been introduced.

While I am happy that accommodations are being made for pedestrians, these should not come at the expense of cyclist safety. The bike lane is slowly disappearing: swallowed by the hillside in one section, obliterated by the new sidewalk in others.

More frightening than the narrowed bike lane is the new curb that separates the sidewalk from the bike lane: both are formed of black asphalt. The construction signs and cones have been gone for some time; can it be possible that they have no intention of painting the curb, or at least the sloped, leading edge of the curb at intersections? This is an accident waiting to happen. It seems just a matter of time before a cyclist runs into the curb and crashes—unable to see the curb at night, or having been intimidated to the far right of the narrow bike lane by fast-moving traffic.

Having explored the relevant section of the California Highway Design Manual, it seems clear to me that this (Class II) Bike Lane no longer complies with the standards.

The speed limit on this section of the highway is 40 mph or less; Section 301.2 states that the minimum width of the bike lane should be four feet. The width can be reduced to three feet if there is an adjacent concrete curb and gutter. There is certainly no gutter (which would effectively widen the available lane for bikes), so the bike lane should still be four feet wide. [It is not.]

The speed limit is 45 mph on the section of road where the hillside is overtaking the bike lane; per Section 301.2, the minimum width of the bike lane there should be six feet (!). [I assure you that you will not need a measuring tape to see that it is not.]

Of course, I am not a highway design engineer, so what do I know?

May 12, 2013

The Music Man

Some of my fellow cyclists find their rides more enjoyable with a soundtrack, and might pedal with earphones and an MP3 source. [One earphone is legal; two are not.] I prefer the natural sounds around me, which included some lovely mockingbird solos today. Or I can tap into the vast trove of songs in my memory bank.

On most of my recent commute rides, the refrain of one song was (inexplicably) stuck on replay in my head. I do not own a copy, and I could not name the artist. Something about rain in Africa, and things we never had. I don't even like the song. Eventually, I managed to displace it.

I headed for a short club ride this morning, certain that we would have a nice little group. Little, indeed—just two of us, plus our leader. The other rider's bike was set up with a tablet computer mounted on his handlebars and a small loudspeaker fitted in one of his water bottle cages. We enjoyed some Vivaldi before an abrupt switch to 80's pop (Eye of the Tiger).

Unlike the songs in my head, which can loop indefinitely, a real song plays for a few minutes. A fast beat can encourage you to ride with a faster cadence, but I actually found the music disheartening: as each song ended, I was reminded that I had not traveled very far in the interim.

I climbed the hills without stopping. [I wanted to stop. I kept going.] A little over 17 miles, with 1440 feet of climbing, before the day heated up.

As we parted ways at the end of the ride, guess which song was blaring from the other bike?

Africa. [By Toto.]

May 9, 2013

It's Bike to Work Day!

I started the morning with some safety basics: give each other space, call out when stopping, and don't take chances with traffic signals. If some of us don't make it across an intersection, I will stop and wait. I promised not to lose anyone, but handed out route sheets just in case. One rider was wearing her helmet backward. [No wonder it felt weird!]

At the halfway point, there was no shortage of enthusiasm. [Or was it a coffeecake high?]

When you can bike to work on any ordinary day, what could be extraordinary about some official Bike to Work Day?

Let me count the ways.

Fourteen smiling co-workers ready for me to lead them to the office at 7:00 a.m. (20 miles).

Ten riders who had never biked to the office before today. (A few rented bikes for the occasion!)

Thirteen-plus riders added en route.

Twenty-seven (or more) smiling co-workers delivered safely to the office.

One piece of Hobee's coffee cake (thank you, Cupertino Energizer Station).

One chocolate-dipped doughnut (courtesy of my co-leader's bike-mounted Energizer Station).

One flat tire (on the rear wheel of my very capable co-leader's bike). [We left him, and the doughnuts, behind. He caught up.]

One huge festival of cycling at our workplace. Massages, foam rollers, and mats for stretching. Bicycle-powered blenders (smoothies). Food. Schwag. Bike mechanics for minor repairs. Booths to recruit riders for local charity rides (including, of course, Best Buddies).

Two bicycle-powered carnival rides.



Three smiling co-workers ready at 5:00 p.m. for me to lead them back home.

Forty-two miles, 855 feet of climbing, and more than 1100 kcal burned.

My energized riders make Bike to Work Day extraordinary for me.

May 6, 2013

Monday Monday

Monday morning: Do people forget how to drive after taking a weekend off? Like the guy on my left, who accelerated only to brake hard (in surrender) as he pulled even with me. By gosh by golly, a bicycle can descend a hill at the speed limit and the right place to change lanes is behind it. [Just like a car.]

The rest of my ride to work was less eventful. I like it that way.

A lucky green signal at a major intersection afforded me the chance to route through a local park. I paused to smile at two pairs of ducks and their broods. The pesky Canada geese were nowhere in sight, but they are still resident.

I dawdled on the way home. It was the headwind, I tell you. Another routing variation took me over a freeway on a neglected bike/pedestrian bridge, littered with fallen leaves, trash, and blotted-out graffiti. It would make sense to use this bridge regularly, but I prefer to avoid it. If it were my neighborhood, I would take a broom to it.

Completing four consecutive round-trip commutes (interrupted by a weekend), I was curious about my average speed (mph).

MorningEvening
Day 113.111.5
Day 213.912.8
Day 312.810.8
Day 413.010.5

I am pretty consistent in the morning; the air is still and, after the initial climbs, my route is principally downhill. Which means, of course, that the return route is ... uphill. Not to mention, into the wind.

Trading my steel bike, with its rack and pack, for my unladen carbon frame on Day 2 made quite a difference—especially in the uphill direction.

Weight matters. Even for slowpokes, like me.