Ride it like you stole it, fat boy

A bad start to the day

2012-02-12T08:53:00.000-08:00

For another rider probably also on his/her way to the Waller County Fairgrounds for this year's Pedaling the Prairie ride. I saw some wreckage scattered across the freeway that looked suspiciously like bike parts - and then a little further on, a Porsche Cayenne pulled over in the left hand shoulder, with an empty bike rack. Another good reason to transport your bike inside rather than outside your vehicle.It was a beautiful, sunny morning, but cold (for Southeast Texas) and windy. Paddy, Marian, Paul, Tom and Gunilla were at the start when I finally got there. Jorge showed up soon after. The initial plan was to ride the 55 mile route, but Jorge had a mandatory bike safety clinic that afternoon and decided to ride the 45 mile routs instead, with some other friends.I was experiencing the "borrowed bike" syndrome because I'd had a custom fitting session with Tad Hughes the day before. He'd raised my saddle considerably, as well as rotating the handlebars, in order to create room for my freakishly long torso. He had also changed out the insoles in my shoes and recommended cinching the straps down a lot tighter. All this was meant to eliminate post-ride back pain, and in-ride foot pain - we'll see how well it works.When we finally got going, the first 10 miles were downwind, so we formed a peloton and blew past the fanny-pack set. The fun was soon over, as we turned west with a strong cross-wind. I was feeling pretty strong and so was Paddy, but the others were struggling in the wind (not Paul, he'd gone ahead with the shaved-leg set and was probably half-way round the 71 mile route). Paddy and I agreed to share the lead but we had to ease the pace frequently to avoid dropping the others.We got to the 19 mile break point and stopped to regroup. 55 miles was going to be a challenge for Marian and Tom, especially if we had to go into the wind for any distance, so we decided to modify the route, with the option to add miles if everyone was up for it.

Before too long we were heading due north on a very bumpy road. Paddy and I were sharing the pulling duties quite well but it was pretty tough for the other two. But everyone got their second wind when we turned west onto a nice smooth road for a mile or two.Another long pull into the wind and it was clear that the additional mileage option was not on the cards, so we finished out with about 40 miles under our belts. We regrouped at the Mules trailer for beers and post-ride bullshit.The ride was benefiting the Faith West Academy and with hindsight I'm glad I didn't wear the evolution t-shirt that Mary-Claire got me for Xmas a few years ago.

"The North Wind doth blow..

2012-02-05T14:43:00.000-08:00

..and we shall have snow, and what will poor Robin do then, poor thing?" The north wind was blowing hard this morning, but it didn't bring snow, and nor did it bring rain as was forecast, so I stirred my stumps and set out for a mid-morning ride.Given the amount of rain that fell yesterday, and the fact that I was riding in a reservoir, I probably should not have been too surprised to see flooding just inside George Bush park. I turned around and headed north for Cullen Park, planning to ride the second half of the four parks loop.The trail between Cullen and Bear Creek parks was under water in a few places but I forged ahead. Paterson road, on the south side of Bear Creek, is very prone to flooding and was closed, so I had to cut through the farm and ranch club. Once into Bear Creek proper, there was plenty of trash on the road from streams that had flooded over, and then the gate by Golbow was closed. I lifted the bike over the fence and hopped across after it, thinking that I hadn't anticipated a cyclo-cross route today. More flooding on Golbow had me turning around again and heading north for Clay. That section has been under construction and they forgot the shoulder, so I found myself in traffic on a 50mph speed limit road. Fortunately it was quiet.Back into Bear Creek, then Eldridge (a blast running due south!) and home. It was actually a very enjoyable, if low-key, outing.

wetter than an otter's pocket

2012-02-04T14:42:00.000-08:00

The charmingly idiomatic phrase I chose as title for this post apparently has unfortunate connotations. I encourage you to consult Prof. Google for illumination, unless you've led a less sheltered life than me and started giggling when you first saw it. Carol Kirkwood, a BBC weather presenter, thought it was harmless too, and used it on air after getting a tweet from an evil-minded prankster.Anyway, rude or not it was an accurate description of the Houston area weather today, and will be tomorrow too. I planned to ride at Zube tomorrow but Paddy has already bailed, so I think I'll sleep in and hit the gym later.

The wind cannot read (but it can grind you down)

2012-01-29T15:36:00.000-08:00

"The Wind cannot read" was a 1958 movie starring Dirk Bogarde, about a british officer who falls in love with a japanese woman. This was "Love that was forbidden - but cannot be denied". I think I saw it once but can't remember any of it. Anyway, wind was very much the order of the day today in Northwest Harris County, literate or not.We also saw the return of the prodigal, in the form of Mike Hogan, one-time Mule and category 5 racer, who got transferred back to the UK a while ago but was visiting Houston for business reasons.Another prodigal managed to get out of bed - Jorge, who had to leave a party (Colombian band in a Colombian restaurant) early so that he could make the ride today.

It was in the mid-40s at the start so I was wearing leg and arm warmers with my Mules jersey. This was a good choice, I was comfortable all the way round, if a bit chilled in the shade. A big group was in attendance including a couple of new faces. It was good to see Mike again - he looks in great shape (he's built like a racing snake anyway) and had been riding a lot around Preston in the North of the UK where he lives now.

We split into two groups pretty much from the start, with Adam leading a slower group including Marian and Heather. They started in front of the rest of us but we soon caught them. I was tempted to drop in with them but decided to man up and see how long I could stay with the Big Dogs.

The pace was pretty hot, with Mike doing the initial work, looking comfortable on a borrowed bike. I was there or thereabouts but not exactly cruising. Jorge was the same or perhaps a little worse. At the 15 mile mark he had dropped back with Paddy, so I joined them at the back, glad to slow the pace a little. Mike held back too and the four of us formed an autobus. We turned into the wind and I took point for a while, feeling pretty strong. Mike and Paddy took over and ramped up the pace quite a bit. I was OK but Jorge was not, so as there were only a few miles to the break I sent them ahead and dropped back.

We regrouped at the Exxon. Adam's group had taken a shorter route and were in ahead of us. Paddy wanted to ride as a group to Waller, then split into speed groups.

The wind always bites pretty hard on the first section and today was no exception. I was able to stay near the front of the group most of the way to Waller but when the Speedsters put the hammer down I had no response and watched them pedal off into the distance. The other groups were far behind so I had to grind it out on my own, head down and teeth gritted into the wind. I felt pretty strong and kept a good pace all the way back, arriving at Zube a few minutes ahead of the other group. Poor Jorge had also dropped off the back of the fast group, but had been caught and subsequently dropped by the second pack. He rolled in a few minutes later, looking tired, but glad he'd come out with the gang.

We sat around drinking beer and wine and exchanging the usual banter. In my t-shirt I was actually colder sitting with the group than when I was riding! Back home in my nice warm car to enjoy the beautiful (if windy) weather.

Frostbike Windy 50

2012-01-25T18:47:00.000-08:00

Last Sunday was the Frostbike 50 ride, a charity event out of Cy-Fair that supports the local high school's drill team. The weather forecast looked decent enough and Jorge was in, so we planned to try the 55 mile route. Our plans changed a bit! Jorge was supposed to pick me up at 6.40am, but messaged me at 6.15am to say that he'd been out until 3am and wasn't going to make it. Oh well, off on my own then. Paddy had already arrived when I got to the start and was setting up the stable. I picked up my new, hot pink and black shirt and got organised. The temperature was still pretty comfortable, skies were overcast and the wind was already whistling. The Mules gathered and moved to the start, but I got separated from the pack and found myself beside Kathy, a friend of the Mules who was demo'ing a very nice Trek Madone.The Marshals started the riders in waves, so Kathy and I got pushed further back. We talked about catching the Mules but immediately hit a concrete headwind and decided to take it easy instead.Quite a long run into the wind before we turned around and found ourselves cruising along at 21 mph without breaking a sweat. It's fun but you always pay for it. Kathy was good company, though, and we had fun chatting about Life, the Universe and Everything. But we were smart enough to opt for 45 miles rather than 55, given the powerful breeze.We turned onto a familiar route from the Zube run and I got a flat in my rear tire. With Kathy's help I changed out the tube pretty quickly, even using a CO2 bottle to reinflate. This was about the halfway mark and just about where we turned south, into the wind once more.The first few miles were OK, with lots of zig-zags to get some rest, but when we hit a long straight, Kathy ran out of gas and I nearly dropped her. She caught up and we rode in together, with me taking point all the way.We finally got back to the start and pulled up at the stable, by now full of Mules drinking beer, eating pizza and sharing a few laughs. I grabbed a slice of pepperoni and a Sierra Nevada Pale Ale (ambrosia and nectar!) and joined in the badinage.I hung around long enough to help Paddy strike camp, then headed home for lunch, more beer and a good long nap.

"The wind is my friend, the wind makes me stronger"

2011-12-11T13:24:00.001-08:00

The Texas Cyclist's mantra was very much in my mind yesterday. I had decided it was time for the Prodigal Mule to return to the Paddock but I could have picked a better day!

When I left home (after 7am, stylishly late for a Mules ride) it was breezy and cool but the car showed 50 degrees, so I didn't take any cold weather gear. I arrived at Zube to see all the Northwest Cycling Club riders wrapped up like Nanook of the North. The Mules in attendance (Paddy, Adam and Ian) were likewise warmly dressed, making me feel a little foolish, as I was wearing the same gear that I wore in August. But I was pretty confident that I wouldn't be cold for long, despite the strengthening wind, and I turned out to be right.

We rolled out with the Club 16-18 mph group, a large number of riders today. After a mile or two Paddy was getting restless and wanted to pull ahead, but Ian told him to hold on because they would accelerate later on. I was pretty comfortable in the middle of the pack, but couldn't hang on when they picked up the pace (as predicted by Ian). I got spat out the back of the pack, but Ian was hanging back anyway, helping a novice rider, and the four Mules grouped up. Just before the gas station the group got blown apart by Ian's pace on a few climbs, but other than that we held together.

A quick break, then off again into the teeth of a strong wind. Ian wisely suggested that we start with the main pack for support, and so we did, but once again I got dropped. I felt strong enough into the wind but couldn't make the pace to stay in the line. This was when the Texas mantra began rolling through my head, and actually helped me keep a good cadence.

With about 10 miles to run I was caught by another group that included Paddy. He pulled me into the line and I managed a mile or two before once again dropping out, but we were nearly in by that time anyway. But I made it back OK, head bloody but unbowed.

Black Friday biker

2011-11-26T07:08:00.000-08:00

Black Friday morning was beautiful - sunny and cool, just a little humid - so I set out to try and burn some of the several thousand calories I'd consumed the day before.

As I passed Bicycle World there was a small group heading out. I caught them at the light and they told me they were riding to Katy, a 48 mile trip, and wanted to be back by 10.00am. I also spotted a couple of pretty serious riders in the group. I wasn't up (or ready) for a long ride at high speed but hung with them down Memorial and Route 6 to the Dam.

George Bush park was predictably quiet (bikers like bargains too), so quiet that there were still deer around. The park is teeming with deer and hogs but the normal traffic level scares them into hiding. Not this morning, I had two smallish deer, one either side of the path. This always makes me nervous because they sometimes decide to cross over to get together, and there is a real risk of a deer strike, which any biker will lose. These two kept their cool though and I made it past.

The rest of the ride was uneventful, although I saw a push me-pull you recumbent tandem on the way back. A couple ride one of these regularly out of Zube and it's always entertaining to ride up to them.

Back in the saddle again

2011-11-20T13:59:00.000-08:00

I've decided it's time to rejoin the Mules after a lengthy summer break, and this weekend seemed like a good opportunity to do so. The gang was riding the Red, White and Bike charity ride, which starts in our usual stamping ground near Hockley. The start time was pretty civilized - 8.00am - which also helped my decision.

I duly rolled into the car park and spotted the Mules Barn - Paddy's large awning erected next to his Mules trailer. I'd only seen pictures of it but it's very impressive in the flesh. Paddy was of course there and noted that I was not in uniform (I was wearing my new Sierra Nevada shirt, the Mules shirt is in the wash). I met a new Mule, Shawn, and later had a long chat with him. Nice guy.

I unloaded my bike and pumped up my tires, only for the rear to blow out quite spectacularly. The rubber around the valve had rotted and it came away in my hand! I did a quick tube change and then bought a replacement from the Bike Barn guys who were on duty at the start.

Off we went, north on Roberts, past Zube and then quickly onto roads I hadn't seen before. The Mules set a hottish pace but I was able to hang in there, drafting behind Adam. I was also chatting (mostly listening!) with Shawn, who has recently done some spectacular rides on Maui, and spent three weeks in Europe, too, riding the route of Paris-Roubaix!

I was just starting to feel the pace a bit when we reached the 40/60 split and I turned off. Hardly anyone else was on the 40 route, I had to keep my wits about me and watch for signs - normally you just follow the bike in front. I was ready for the rest stop that duly appeared, and there was Sean (of the dog) chatting with the staff. We joked around for a bit and then he left, with me promising to catch him (as if!).

Back on the road and we turned south, into a pretty tough head wind, with some short, sharp climbs to get over too. I was starting to tire and get sore in the usual spots, but then I got to Roberts road, where I could smell the barn, as they say. Sadly the route took us in the long way round, presumably to build up the miles.

Finally I was back at the start, where I joined Sean in the Barn for a beer and a chat. I had stuff to do at home and couldn't wait for the 60 mile group to finish.

Stay away from Crack(s)

2011-11-05T12:42:00.000-07:00

It's been almost 2 months since my last post, and basically the same amount of time since my last training ride. I went on a field trip to Utah at the end of September and came back with a cough/cold, that as usual turned into a sinus infection, and I was out for the count.

I'm still not 100% but I'm getting there. I rode into work 4 days last week and decided I was ready to start weekend rides too. David was up for a ride so we planned a run for Saturday morning. Unfortunately his knee was playing up and so I found myself riding alone down Memorial at 7.30 on a beautiful, if chilly morning.

As I got closer to BWH I decided to ride with them if they hadn't started already, and sure enough the riders were just gathering so I joined the gang. Kevin showed up on his new-ish Cervelo, and his sister was there too. Jamie proposed the short ride to Katy Mills and that was fine by me.

We rolled out and I found myself at the front of the pack. I felt fairly comfortable and hung in there, but once we made the first turn along the Dam I decided to let someone else do the work.

Out on Kingsland I discovered just how much I'd forgotten during my absence. We stooped for a red light at Fry, and when we got the green I couldn't get my left foot clipped in. I was looking down at my pedal and didn't see a large crack in the pavement, and my front wheel fell in. Normally when this happens you go down, but somehow I managed to keep the rubber in the road. I didn't flat either and was feeling pretty lucky, until I used the front brake. The crack had scraped my rim pretty badly, making the brakes noisy. Kevin saw this as a golden opportunity to buy a set of carbon wheels, only $899 on Bonktown.com!

We carried on, with me trying not to use the front brake. There were two strong riders who broke away but I kept up with the rest of the pack pretty well. After the turn we found out just how strong a tailwind we'd had on the way out! We formed into two lines and rode back together, which was fun.

Back at BWH I had one of the mechanics look at my wheel and he told me it was fine, and to smooth down the scratches with steel wool. So no new carbon wheels for me.

Feeling the burn

2011-09-17T07:58:00.000-07:00

I'm hiding from the Mules, and not feeling up to the Truth Squad either, but I want to keep riding, so when David suggested a gentle run through Terry Hershey and George Bush I was all for it.

We met at 645 and set out along Memorial, as it was still too dark for the Park. The only problem was riding past the donut and kolache shops with all the wonderful smells wafting out.

We had a pretty good run out to the Constable Station, sharing the pulling duties well. We made the turn into George Bush park, the site of several wildfires last week. The northern part looked pretty green (it's a reservoir after all) but when we got to the Shooting Range we could see where the fire had been burning - the grass was blackened and there was a strong smell of smoke. The trees looked fine, though.

On through the next section to Fry, where we took a break before turning around. Halfway back we passed Kevin and Min Kae, and then Severin from the bike shop, who replaced Manny as the leader of the beginner's group. Presumably there was no Truth Squad ride today. I told David that he was ready to ride with the Truth Squad if he wanted.

An uneventful ride back along Memorial and home to pray for rain (prayers later answered!).

Noobz

2011-07-23T16:07:00.000-07:00

We had two newbie riders with the Truth Squad today, Brian and Rosalina. We found out fairly early on that they are refugees from a higher level of cycling - Brian set a hot pace and Rosalina sat on his wheel. I hung with them on the way out to Katy Mills but regretted it later.

We blew through a light just as it was changing halfway along, and together with the fierce pace, the group got blown to pieces. The three of us hit the Walgreens for the turn-around well ahead of the rest. When everyone was in the chat naturally turned to the Tour de France, and the likelihood that Cadel Evans would make up enough time on the TT to take the Maillot Jaune onto the Champs Elysee. I wondered if Schleck would violate protocol and attack on the last stage, particularly if he was only a few seconds behind. Kevin though that if he did so and won he'd get an asterisk after his name.

Back on the road and Brian and Rosalina streak ahead again. I hang with them for a while but have to drop back. We regroup in the Park but once again they are too strong, especially when we turn South and hit a block head wind. Fortunately they don't know the route and have to wait for the mere mortals.

A gentle run back along Memorial to the shop, and then Min Kae and I cruise home (like last week). I get back and turn on Versus, to see that Cadel has indeed blown out Andy on the TT. Well done mate.

Talk of the Devil

2011-07-17T11:14:00.000-07:00

Fans of this blog (and you know who you are) will recall that I was fantasizing about the new bike from Cervelo, the S5, last week. Well, yesterday morning, Jamie rolled up for the Truth Squad riding - a new S5! The shop has a demo model and she got to take it out. If anything it's more gorgeous in person...

While I was waiting at a light on the way to the start, another rider pulled up beside me and said hi. She was planning to ride with Jamie too and we got chatting. Her ride to the start was a lot longer than mine - a good 10 miles.

The usual crowd gathered for the ride. No sign of Dennis The Waterford Wonder, but Keith showed up on a very nice Cervelo time-trial bike. He and I were stalwarts on Manny's ride last year but I don't think he's been on a Truth Squad run yet. Jamie (on the S5!) opted for the run out to Katy Mills Mall, a shortish route.

We headed out, with the usual suspects setting the pace. I was happy enough to hang back, feeling pretty comfortable. With a few miles to run to the turnaround Jamie opened up on the new bike, so I jumped on her back wheel. It has to be said that drafting behind a semi-pro female cyclist on Cervelo's most aerodynamic road bike is not a particularly rewarding experience - she wasn't blocking much wind.

A good break at the Walgreen's (Keith took the opportunity to ride the S5 around the parking lot!) and we headed for home. The wind was favorable for once and we cracked ahead. A bit further long I caught the speedsters at a light. I velcroed myself onto a rear wheel and was able to stay with them right to the end.

A warmish run through the park (no velcro on this stretch!) and then it was back down Memorial to the shop. My new friend was planning to ride home along Memorial but with the traffic building up she gladly accepted my offer to guide her through the subdivisions to Gessner. She's an impressive young woman - Houston born and bred and a graduate of Rice University, now working as an IT consultant. She has a nice bike too.

Bike Porn

2011-07-09T13:50:00.000-07:00

Watching the Tour de France gets me all aquiver - not just the thrills and spills and the bollocks that issues every time Cavendish opens his mouth, but the adverts too. The big bike manufacturers buy time to show off their latest creations in loving detail and Cervelo are right in there. This proud beauty is the S5, currently running at $3,800. Susan calls it "Bike Porn" because there is something quite salacious about the way the camera runs down the frame, lingering in soft focus on certain particularly fine curves.

This was on my mind today during the outing with the Truth Squad, in part because Kevin was test-riding a fabulous-looking S3, and loving every minute. Jamie opted for a Bear Creek - Cullen Park - George Bush Park loop, quite a short one really, but I was glad to get it over early.

The ride was pretty uneventful. My pump decided to slip from its mounting halfway up Eldridge, which put me at the back of the peloton, but we regrouped. Quite a hair-raising run through Cullen, with some of the riders setting a hot pace despite the narrow, winding path through the trees.

On to Fry and then to the western end of George Bush Park, all very familiar territory. Just as we started in the park we were passed by a kid on a time trial bike. This of course is not permissible and we formed a pace-line to run him down. Again this was really too fast for the road.

Back at the Dam and we regrouped, swapping tall tales of cycling derring-do and general misbehaviour, as you do (at least when there aren't any women around). We cruised down Memorial and back to the shop, hoping to watch the end of the Tour stage - but sadly they don't have TV in there any more. Apparently their service provider found out that they were supplying a business, not a residence, and upped their rates to untenable levels.

I got back home in time for the Podiums and the post-race analysis. Oh well, should be able to catch more of tomorrow's stage.

Nice and easy does it

2011-07-02T13:34:00.000-07:00

A very gentle ride this morning with David, my neighbour and co-worker. He wants to do the MS150 and has bought a pretty nice bike, a full-carbon Felt. We meet at 6.30 outside his house and head off to Terry Hershey.

David wanted to ride for about 2 hours so I suggested we start out going west and see where we are after one hour. Very little traffic of any kind on the trail as we start, more runners as we progress though.

I set a gentle , 14-16 mph pace, partly because of traffic but also because I'm not sure how fast he can go. We clear the park after 30 minutes and decide to carry on to the Cop Shop. With less traffic around we can open it up and I settle in at about 18mph. I told him to draft, ride as close as he can, and he hangs in pretty well.

At the Cop Shop he's blowing a bit but gets his breath back and we chat about work for a few minutes, then turn back. He holds on to my wheel very well and even takes the lead for a bit. At the turn south I suggest we pick up the pace. I crank it up fairly quickly to a full sprint and drop him. We regroup at the Dam, where he tells me that he couldn't hold on above 20 mph.

An uneventful run back home through the Park, now getting very busy. We ride down our street with him telling me about his son - and he forgets to unclip and very nearly goes down. I'm back in the house by 8.30am, feeling pretty good - a much better start to the Weekend than the Truth Squad, but not much physical benefit.

Il fait chaud

2011-06-26T08:43:00.000-07:00

Out with the Truth Squad yesterday morning. I missed last weekend's ride (we were out of town) and it hasn't got any cooler. Jamie had to sub for Manny (who is nutritionist for one of the Ride Across America teams) so we went out on our own. I asked for a short'n'sweet ride but the others wanted a longer run and opted for Old Katy/Kingsland, 39 miles and change.

On the way out it was pretty clear who felt strong and who didn't. Two riders in particular set the pace and would do so all the way round. I struck up conversation with one of them, Scott, while we were hauling ass through Cullen Park. He's a Texan, but married a french girl, speaks pretty good french (can't beat a sleeping dictionary...) and has a daughter who tells everyone she's french even though she's never left the country.

Out of the park and onto Park Row for the 9-mile drag to Old Katy. We initially start at a very gentle pace, but before too long we're back at 20 mph or so. I'm definitely feeling the pace and drop back with the Autobus. We regroup at the Shell station and get to practice our french a bit, amidst lots of laughter and folk wisdom (Scott's Dad told him, if you meet a girl and can see her boobs from behind, marry her). I manage to forget to eat my gel and regret it later.

Back on the road and it's hotter than Satan's armpit already. We cross the freeway (very steep bridge that brings out the sprinter in everyone) dead into a strong wind off the Gulf, than turn east for the run home. It's a cross-wind now and I try to ride en echelon for a while. Scott and the other hot shot leave us quickly but we catch them at the many traffic lights on this route.

Finally back at the Cop Shop and I congratulate the two speedsters on their promotion to the ILC (translation - bugger off and let the rest of us cruise along in peace). We head out along Wind Alley, but I'm fading fast (too hot, too fast, too much vino last night). The last section is straight into the wind and I struggle. We pick up Memorial for the run back to the shop and I get dropped pretty quickly, although we hook up again at the lights at Eldridge.

I'm very glad to get off the bike and sit down in the A/C comfort of the shop. I look briefly at a new wheelset (way too rich for my blood) then head home for a nap. If I'm going to keep riding with these guys I'll need to take it all a bit more seriously.

Racers both real and pretend

2011-06-12T14:02:00.000-07:00

Second Saturday morning ride with the Truth Squad and some familiar faces appear. Dennis rocks up in a very smart Texas bike jersey and new shades. Jamie shows up looking tired - she had been racing at the Alkek Velodrome the night before - and she opts for a shorter route, an out-and-back to Katy Mills Mall. We roll out, thankfully ahead of the ILC this time, although one rider sets a pretty hot pace down Memorial. I've been out with him before - he goes off like a rocket but fades fast, and today was no exception. Another familiar face is a man who used to take twin 12 year old boys with him on Manny's ride. He's upgraded to the Truth Squad but is riding with just one of the boys today, and when he takes off at the front of the paceline, his son jumps on his rear wheel and I follow suit. Not a lot of point drafting behind a leggy, skinny kid though.

We stop at the Constable Station (aka "The Cop Shop") to stretch and regroup and head out along Kingsland. This route is straight and flat but the first half has a lot of traffic lights and we manage to hit most of them red. One rider I remember from last week is setting a hot pace and the group fragments. With a few miles to run to the turn I get spat out the back but I don't really mind. When this happens with the Mules they stop and wait for you, which is embarrassing to say the least.

At the Walgreens where we turn around I chat a bit with Dennis - he's in insurance and is dealing with a claim relating to water in crude from some Eagle Ford production. We're standing in the sun and it's getting very warm, so I'm glad when we set out again. The usual suspects roar ahead and I hang with them for a while, before dropping back to join Dennis, where the conversation turns to Colombia. His wife is Colombian and wants to go home.

When we get back the section with all the lights Dennis and I rejoin the front-runners. Jamie and the others appear too. According to Jamie, if you ride at 28 mph you'll hit nothing but greens - but none of us (except perhaps her) are capable of such speeds for a long time.

We finish out the ride at a little before 10am and I'm home soon after. That's why I left the Mules - shorter rides and home earlier.

After lunch I drove into the City to watch the final stages of the Houston Grand Criterium meet. Eric, who rode with us last weekend, was competing (he's a category 4 racer - respect!) but I missed his event. When I arrived, the Ladies Elite race was finishing. A few minutes later the Men's Elite/Pro began and I watched a few laps. This shot is the peloton after rounding the turn on Bagby. Quite exciting to see the riders go by so fast, so near, but Eric had warned me that it wouldn't be very interesting and he was right. A breakaway group of three formed quite quickly and their team-mates sat on the front of the peloton to prevent any attempts to catch them. Fun to watch anyway, but too hot to hang around and I left before the end.

Out of the frying pan, into the fire

2011-06-05T14:58:00.000-07:00

Saturday was my first ride with the Bicycle World and Fitness group since last Fall. It was nice to be able to ride to the start, rather than drive for 30 minutes, and we started earlier too, at 7.00am (more or less) instead of 7.30 with the Mules.

BW&F has three different rides on Saturday morning, each led by a different employee. Manny's group rides 27 miles on Terry Hershey at a fairly easy pace, Jamie's group (aka The Truth Squad) goes about the same distance but faster, and the hard core ride with Ryan (The International Liars' Club or ILC), 50-60 miles at a pretty hot pace. Before departing to rejoin the Mules I had been a regular with The Truth Squad. I only recognized one rider, Denis the Mad Irishman, but it was good to catch up with him.

Jamie's group has adopted a different route since my last outing with them, and this morning the ILC was going the same way, at least as far as Katy. We rode as a big group for a while but the pace set by the ILC was too hot for Denis and me (and a couple of others) and we soon fell behind. We regrouped at Bear creek and restarted but split up quite quickly again. I was pretty comfortable with Denis, Jamie and the others.

Coming out of the park I got a flat in my front tire and we all stopped while I changed it out. Denis helped and we got the tube replaced pretty fast. I used a CO2 bottle to inflate the new tube but didn't get it all the way up to pressure. We set out anyway and crossed into Cullen.

One of the other riders took the lead through the park and set a fast pace. I was able to keep up with him but really wasn't happy about going that quickly. The trail is not suitable for high speed cycling - there are lots of turns and usually plenty of foot traffic too. We made it through OK though and turned on Saums road. While waiting at a light I noticed that we hadn't got my tire properly seated on the rim and it was bulging slightly near the valve stem. Fixing it would require deflating the tire, seating it properly and reinflating, so I decided to wait and see how I got on with it.

On Saums the pace crept up and we took it in turns to pull. We hit 23 mph on one section but decided that was too hot and backed off a bit. By then the group had fragmented (this happens very easily when there are traffic lights on a route), with me and three others in the lead, and Denis, Jamie and the rest behind.

We pulled into the Shell station for a pre-arranged break and found three ILC riders, including Ryan the leader and Eric, a mechanic from the shop. Eric was riding a full-on fixie - cleats and no brakes! Jamie and the others soon appeared and we took a good break. I let the air out of my tire, seated it properly on the rim and tried to reinflate with a CO2 bottle scrounged from Jamie, but I couldn't get it to work. She took pity on me, and used her own CO2 adapter, the kind apparently known to the pros as a "crack pipe" (as illustrated above).

Back on the road with the ILC trio in the vanguard, setting a strong pace. I was able to keep up but I was feeling it. Coming up to the Highway 99 underpass, Eric gave an object lesson in stopping a fixie - he locked up the back wheel and skidded about 20 yards, weaving the wheel left and right all the way. He must get through a lot of tires.

We got back to the Dam and started a fast paceline. I held on but eventually got spat out the back. We regrouped at Route 6 and when Eric appeared he had a flat back tire. Without a fixie wrench (to get the wheel off) he couldn't do a repair, but he seemed happy to ride on the rim and made it all the way back to the store without apparently damaging the tire or rim.

A quick chat and cool-off in the store and I rode home. I felt pretty rough, pretty much the same as I feel after a Mules run, but I need to do better with my hydration, and having the ILC set the pace for half the ride didn't help. We'll see how the Summer proceeds.

The fat cyclist has sung

2011-05-29T09:12:00.000-07:00

Every year, on or around Memorial Day, I work out that it's got too hot and The Mules have got too strong for me, and I gracefully retire my jersey for the summer. Yesterday's Zube ride showed me that the time has come again, only 2 days early.

I rocked up to Zube just after 7.00am, to find the car park already filling up with Northwest Cycle Club riders. Richard pulled into the spot next to me, and Kevin appeared shortly later. This made an unlikely threesome - me, my boss's former boss and my boss's current boss! As usual, Jorge wanted to ride, but again as usual, he stayed out too late on Friday and didn't make it.

We rolled out and were fairly quickly passed by several NWCC groups, mostly going at a pretty good lick. When this happened last week, Paddy immediately jumped on the back and we ended up with a record time to the Exxon. Fortunately (for me, anyway) Paddy is in Trinidad, and in his absence we decided to hang back and keep our own pace.

A fresh breeze from the south pushed us along on the out-run but I was still working and sweating pretty hard. After the break we had a tough cross-wind all the way back. We worked together well, riding en echelon just like the pros, although Kevin objected to the shower of sweat I gave him whenever he was down-wind of me.

Back at Zube and I feel pretty lousy, tired and dehydrated. I decide there and then that my next weekend ride will be with Jamie's Truth Squad at Bicycle World and Fitness - 27 miles, 7.00am start and about a ten minute ride from my house.

Train hard and ride safely this summer, Mules -

The Three Amigos (and friends)

2011-05-22T14:34:00.000-07:00

Once again, Saturday morning found me heading off to Zube at the crack of dawn. For once there was something on the radio for entertainment. The Houston NPR station, KUHF, just bought out the Rice University license and equipment and have moved their classical programming to their frequency, so now we have 24/7 NPR news on FM 88.7. They are still amusingly amateurish though - they managed an accidental mash-up of "The Splendid Table" and "All in the Game", so for a moment I thought that vine-dried tomatoes in Puglia was one of the main causes of violence in Ivy League Football in the early 20th century.

I got to Zube quite quickly and found Paddy in his usual parking spot. He was pleased to see me, as most of the other regulars had either opted to ride on Sunday of bailed out at the last minute. I was expecting Jorge to roll up but he texted me that he had got to bed very late and wasn't going to make it. Just then Kevin appeared, and I reminded them both of the last time the three of us were out together - the aborted Cheeseburger run. Hopefully we would do better this time around.

No-one else appeared so we set off. The Northwest Cyclery Club has rides every Saturday so we soon found ourselves in a largish group, going pretty quickly in two pace lines. At about the fifteen mile mark I got spat out the back and Kevin and Paddy dropped back to join me (All for one and one for all - wait, that's the Three Musketeers). We carried on at our own, still pretty hot pace, with some wind assistance, and reached the gas station with an average speed of over 20 mph. A very light rain started to fall but it didn't last - more's the pity, it's terribly dry round these parts.

Back on the road and the first stretch along Business 290 is in the teeth of the wind. I get low and grind it out until the first turn, only to discover that I had dropped the other two - that never happens! The rest of the ride was more typical, with me struggling to stay with the other two. At one point the NWCC peloton passed us again. The two women in the tail of the pace line - one blonde, one brunette - were too much for Paddy to pass and he jumped on. About half a mile down the road he rejoined us, a little sheepishly.

Back at Zube by 10.00am, a scorching pace for us. Home to watch as much of the Tour de California as we could before the Rapture. Meanwhile, up in the Woodlands Susan's cousin Grady finished Ironman Texas, doing the 112 mile bike ride at a little under 18.5 mph. Way to go, G-Man -

T-Bone dog

2011-05-07T14:16:00.000-07:00

Jorge and I wanted to ride this weekend, but neither of us were really up for a strenuous Mule-style outing, or for that matter an early start. I proposed a gentle ride along the Bayou in Terry Hershey Park and a gentlemanly 8.30 am start, so that's what we did.

Jorge hasn't done a ride in Terry Hershey before and he enjoyed the scenery, if not the traffic, so we were glad to get to George Bush Park and open it up a bit. He's been in Bush Park before and likes it. He particularly enjoys the stretch of boardwalk which I frankly don't - I'm always worried that I won't be able to make an emergency stop on the wooden surface. Anyway we made it to Fry road in pretty good order.

After a break I suggested the Four Parks route, instead of doing an out-and-back. The only drawback is that there are several stretches where you have to ride in traffic, but having grown up in Colombia he's used to sharing the road with 18-wheelers. So we headed north on Fry towards Cullen Park.

Once in the Park we stopped for water and then hit the trail. I warned Jorge that we would have to take it slowly, as there were lots of blind turns and usually a fair amount of foot traffic. I should have listened to myself! Towards the end of the park I saw a man and woman walking with a dog (looked like a white bull terrier). I though the mutt was on a leash but it wasn't - the man tried to call it to heel but it swerved away at the last minute and I T-boned the damn thing. I was braking hard anyway but moving fast enough to go over the handlebars, landing in a heap in the dirt on the side of the trail. I got up and was immediately concerned for the dog, but that breed is basically a tube of muscle, and it had pottered off up the trail, completely unscathed. Its owner was much more concerned about me than his pet but I was fine apart from some scrapes. My bike was OK, too - the handlebars were out of alignment but easily straightened, the brake hoods and levers were scraped but nothing else.

Jorge and I remounted and set off again. As we went we heard a jogger chewing the dog owner out for running his pet without a leash - quite right too. The rest of the ride was uneventful, but overall it was a bit longer than we had planned, about 39 miles. We got back to my place and regaled Susan with the tale over cold beers.

Recovery ride

2011-05-01T14:51:00.000-07:00

We're back in Houston after our mostly unexpected Easter trip to Illinois and I thought I'd see how my derriere would respond to a saddle after the MS150, so I saddled up the fixie and set off for Terry Hershey. My road bike somehow acquired a flat front tire between Austin and Houston and I haven't repaired it yet, but I fancied the fixie anyway.

I immediately ran head-first into half a gale of wind blowing off the Gulf. This was a cross-wind for most of the ride, but curtailed any thoughts I had of going all the way to the end of George Bush park. I settled for an out-and-back to Route 6 and mostly enjoyed it. My butt didn't really grumble, either.

I took some cycling gear with me to Illinois, planning to get Susan's old Schwinn Varsity out of the barn and see if I could find a longer route around Morris and environs. In the end, the weather was pretty bad for practically the whole trip, and we were a bit tied up anyway.

Morris has a bike shop, so I went in to see if there were any cycling groups in the area. They usually congregate around the bike shops, at least down here. The bike shop owner (something of an odd duck, it has to be said) gave me the newsletter for the Joliet Cycling Club. Joliet is some distance from Morris, but it turns out that they have regular rides starting from here. I made contact with the club president and he was much more friendly, inviting me to join several group rides. Unfortunately I didn't bring any rain gear and decided to give it a miss. However we may well find ourselves in the area again soon, so weather permitting I'll join them.

The Prince of Rides

2011-04-23T07:09:00.000-07:00

(Years ago, my then-girlfriend Susan and I tried to convince a group of drunks in a redneck bar in Springfield that I was actually Prince Andrew, the Queen's second son. We only half-succeeded but since then she has called me her prince. When she told her on-line friends about the MS150 they dubbed me "The Prince of Rides". They're a literary bunch)

This was my rider bib from the MS150. I didn't feel very unstoppable, particularly after 80 miles in the saddle on the first day.

David, my sort-of but not-really brother-in-law, came down from Austin for the MS150 again this year. I dropped him off at the start at 5.45 and went home to meet up with Jorge, my Colombian buddy and colleague, an MS150-debutant. We all met up again at BHP's official start in time for a team photo and a 6.30 departure.

It was a chilly morning - in the mid-40's, practically Arctic for us Texans - and both of us were shivering as we made our way north on Eldridge in the pre-dawn gloom. David and I are certainly an odd couple. Tall and thin, he looks like a cyclist, he's a randonneur and triathlete (his warm-up for the MS150 was a half-Iron Man event the previous weekend) and there's no serious doubt that he'll get to Austin. In contrast, I'm short and squat, looking more like a former Rugby front-row forward, and tend to get followed rather too closely by vultures, especially in the final stages of the ride. To balance things out a bit, he rides a defiantly low-tech Raleigh tourer that he got on Craig's List, which he has pimped-out by adding a rack and a trunk. I, on the other hand, am pushing a full-carbon Trek Madone rocket and rocking a pair of Lance Armstrong-inspired Oakley shades. I suspect we look like a kid and his dad out for a ride.

When the sun came up we had a beautiful morning, perfect for riding. The wind was out of the north, not favourable at all for us, but very light and not a factor at all. The chill (and our breakfast coffee) had a predictable effect, however and we were both ready to relieve what is called un besoin naturel when cycling in France (and when you stop it's un arret pipi). Somehow we missed the first rest stop and had to hang on until the second, which did not arrive a moment too soon.

I discovered a great joy of riding with a buddy - you don't have to lay your bike down at rest stops, you can lean the bikes together. A short break and we were back on the road. This stretch is quite familiar from the recent Cheeseburger run - would I hit the wall again at 70 miles? We passed the roadside diner that was so hospitable to me and I thought about stopping to thank the owners, but there were too many bikes around me.

A little further on, David and I caught up with a rider on a shiny chrome recumbent, complete with fairing. He was also a Club 300 rider and we chatted for a few miles. He's a contractor who got into riding when he had a job painting markers on a bike trail. He rode the trail with spray paint cans in his cupholders (recumbents are the bike equivalents of Escalades), got his job done and exercised at the same time.

We reached the Brazos river and the end of the Houston area flatlands. From now on we would be in rolling country all the way to Austin. The first few hills warmed my legs a bit but felt pretty good. With just a few miles to go to Bellville and the lunch stop, we were passed by an ambulance and the group came to a halt. Ride marshals came back and told us to relax, there was a wreck ahead that would take some time to clear. It was getting warm now and some of the pack dismounted and found shade. We began to move forward very slowly and someone joked about the MS150 walk to Austin. Eventually we got past the scene of the wreck and got rolling again. With 15,000 riders on the road, wrecks are inevitable, but fortunately this one was not serious enough for a helicopter evacuation.

Into Bellville for lunch and a chance to try out our bike-balancing skills again. Lunch was a sandwich (ham or PBJ!), your choice of a small serving of pasta or potatoes, an apple and a Bluebell ice-cream sandwich. David, who has an excellent appetite, accidentally violated protocol by taking both starches, and then felt guilty about possibly depriving a tired, hungry cyclist rolling in for lunch at 2pm, only to find no pasta was to be had.

Back on the road and lots of traffic through Bellville proper. There were lots of people in the town square cheering us on, a nice little boost. The route takes us past the Hill, formerly home of the best burgers in Austin county, then on to FM159 for a roller-coaster ride to Fayetteville and La Grange. Just before Fayetteville we climb the dreaded Rek Hill, which I always remember as being worse than it really is - today it's no tougher than any of the other climbs. The training must be paying off.

Riding through Fayetteville is one of the high spots of the whole tour. The entire town turns out to welcome the riders, and there's always a particularly lively bunch outside a tavern, who have probably been cheering and quaffing since 9am. Lots of people put bubble machines in their front yards, too.

Twenty miles to run to the overnight stop at La Grange and I'm starting to flag a bit. David of course looks a fresh as paint and is happy to stay with me, although I warn him that the pace may drop a little. We make the familiar turn before the last rest stop (and have a 200 yard down-wind run!) and decide to push on without stopping.

By now I'm running on will power and muscle memory. My right foot is very painful and my backside is demanding relief, so I try to find a position on the saddle that helps both, leading to a peculiar cross-wise perch. The legs are still strong, though, so I can ride out of the saddle and at least try to get some blood flowing back into my gluteus maximus. At some point along here we are passed by two kids on fixies!

Finally we make the turn onto Route 71 and we have a two mile downwind run to the finish. As we get closer there are cars and trucks lining the road and lots of people cheering us on. We cross the finish line, where someone on a PA is welcoming riders by name, presumably by quickly looking up their number. He doesn't spot me but manages to get David and announces "Here comes David Baxter, pedaling hard" (David corrects this to "hardly pedaling"!)

We ride clear of the usual congestion around the finish and dismount. Jorge is right behind us! We shake hands and congratulate each other. He had wanted to ride with us but we got separated at the start.

Once again, the BHP team tent is in the overflow area, but rather than the dreaded Camp Walmart from 2010, we're in Camp St.Marks in the grounds of a medical centre about a mile back down route 71. There is a shuttle but it's a short ride and Jorge and I decide we have a little bit left in our legs (and butts in my case). David has to pick up his bag so he rides the bus.

We find the team tent and roll up to a warm welcome from Ben and the other volunteers. They give us cold towels and show us where to park the bikes (much better bike racks this year). I find my bag and drop it on one of the cots, then get a good ribbing from the Mules, who have clearly been in for some time. They're enjoying beers and a riotous game of Jenga, while Taylor (who couldn't ride due to illness) is busy mixing up frozen Mimosas in her camp blender.

I'm feeling some of the symptoms that I experienced during the Cheeseburger run, so I decide to take a nap before showering. I don't really sleep but I feel a lot better after 20 minutes. This year we have our own shower and toilet trucks, pure luxury after last year when I waited in line for ages for a shower. The toilet truck has flush loos and air conditioning, much better than the porta-potties we've been using all day.

Back in the tent, I lie down for a bit more rest. Gunilla has the cot next to mine and encourages me to eat something, even though I'm not really hungry, so I make a sandwich and take a Stella from the Mules' beer cooler and sit and chat for a bit.

Dinner is Pappa's mexican from Austin, really good fajitas. David and I sit with Kevin, Tom and some of the other riders and talk about the day we've just finished and the one ahead of us. The Sunday route has a few options - there's an express route straight up 77 to Bastrop, the challenge route through Buescher and Bastrop state parks, and the bypass route that is a combination of the two. The Park (as we always call it) certainly is a challenge - 12 miles of very hilly terrain, with nerve-wracking descents and lung-bursting climbs. Just getting there involves a few hills and the fearsome descent out of Smithville, where elite riders probably top 50 mph. Most of us want to ride the Park this year.

After dinner, a beer or two and a chat I'm more than ready for bed. I find my ear plugs and a spare pair for Jorge and wriggle into my sleeping bag. I don't usually sleep well on the Saturday night, a combination of an uncomfortable bed, lots of noise in the background and nerves about the Sunday ride, but I slept pretty well, waking at about 4.30 (the lights go on at 5.00am!).

Paddy had asked the Mules to wear their jerseys today and I had brought mine. I was also

wearing my bib shorts (with the Livestrong logo

down the leg!) so I was feeling like a pro. BHP had provided a "Continental" breakfast of cold cereal and various processed foods, but there was a hot breakfast with coffee to be had on the other side of the campground, so Gunilla and I set off in the dark in search of pancakes, lit only by a full moon.

After breakfast I broke down my bed and packed my gear, then helped about 10 other riders with their beds. I pumped up my tires, found Jorge and David and we rode to the start.

This is where we saw the real benefit of the overflow campsite. Riders at the main site are not allowed on the road until sunrise at 7am, and people begin lining up at 5am, so you have a long wait at the start. This morning they let us off at 6.30am and we didn't have to wait at all. Off we rode in the gloom on another chilly morning.

A few miles along and we passed an MS150 icon - a piper, in full gear, standing by the road, playing his heart out. He was on "Amazing Grace" as we passed - David would have preferred something more upbeat. The three of us kept together well through the hilly terrain, stopping once before Smithville and the Park. Pretty quickly we made a familiar turn and a short climb before the big hill. I normally let the bike go, at least for the first few hundred yards, but there were too many other riders around and I had to check my speed. Jorge went flying past me but I caught him on the run out, and David reappeared too. Jorge's top speed on the descent was 40mph, David had 38mph and I was probably somewhere in between.

The next rest stop is at the start of the Park and we agreed to take a break. When you wear bib shorts and need a pee, there's no real option other than taking off your jersey and slipping off the should straps. This also requires unloading the gel packets, sunscreen, valuables etc out of your jersey pockets or there's a good chance they will end up in the septic. No that easy in a confined space. I'm still not convinced of the virtues of bibs but other riders swear by them (not David though).

Jorge bumped into another BHP rider, Matt, who had trained with us a couple of times. He wanted to join us so our little peloton became four. It was clear that we would all ride the Park at different paces so we decided to regroup at a prominent point near the end of the Park section. This shot was taken while I was still on pace with David. I was working hard but he had time to sit up and smile for the camera! I'm sure he dropped me soon after.

The Park was as tough as ever, but the roads seem to have deteriorated a bit since my ride in 2009 (I shamefully skipped the Park last year). On one particularly tough section I heard another rider encouraging himself by yelling "Come on, Mule, get up there Mule!". As I went past him I called out "Granny ring" - his reply was to the effect that he was already there and the next gear was "foot ring". Hope he made it.

There's a second rest stop in the Park, and I normally stop there, feeling I've earned a break, but I decided to push on so that I didn't keep the others waiting. A few more climbs and a long, long sweeping descent and I was out. I saw David waiting by the exit and pulled over. A few minutes later we saw Matt, and after a few more, Jorge appeared. He had struggled but made it through without having to dismount.

We merged into the stream of riders on the lunch express route, rode the long descent into Bastrop, crossed the Colorado and turned in to the High School for a 9.30am lunch. We were early enough that there was no line for the sandwiches, but we couldn't find a place to sit and ended up on the kerb. Here's Jorge and I, looking pretty relieved to be on the last leg of the tour.

After a good break we saddled up for the last 32 miles of the ride. I'm glad we arrived when we did - by the time we left the lines for lunch and the porta-potties were very long.

The final section is pretty boring, mostly flat until the Austin city limits. I'm starting to get tired and sore in the same places as yesterday. We agree to stop just once before the finish and I'm very glad to take a break and remove my shoes for a few minutes (even though I find a few burrs!). There's a Goya coconut juice stand and Jorge and I slug back a couple of cans. I still don't like the slimy lumps at the bottom.

Matt is on the right and Jorge on the left in this shot - David was probably in front of us. Somewhere on this stretch we passed the shiny recumbent rider from yesterday - he yelled "Charge!" as we rolled. At last we pass the Austin city limits sign. The right-hand lane has been coned off for us but this doesn't leave a lot of room, especially on descents, and we need to stay alert. The approach into the city centre has a number of climbs and descents so we can't relax. David is beside me and identifies a number of local beauty spots, including the football stadium. We turn onto MLK Boulevard with the finish line in sight. David pulls ahead and rides close to the barrier, high-fiving with the crowd. We group up and cross the line more or less together.

We all shake hands and then ride over to the BHP tent. The Mules have been in for a while of course and are eating lunch. Jorge spots some Colombian friends and stops for a chat. David and I get lunch (very good chicken kebabs and asparagus - the food has been excellent this year), then he heads back to his car and the short drive home. I get in the long line for the showers, standing behind a rider with road rash all up the left side of his body. Apparently he was carved up by another rider on the way into Bastrop and went down hard. Hope the shower wasn't too painful, amigo. Back to the tent, where Jorge is still deep in conversation (and still eating kebabs!). He's getting a ride back to Houston with a friend, so I walk over to the bus depot and catch a bus back to town, where Susan picks me up. We have a celebratory dinner on the patio and an early bedtime.

(The following weekend, David went on a 375 mile randonee event that he completed in 38 1/2 hours. Hopefully he slept in the weekend after.)

With a (lot) of help from my Friends (and Spouse)

2011-03-22T11:48:00.000-07:00

Paddy wanted to ride the 100-mile Bellville Cheeseburger Classic from my house last weekend. I wasn't sure I was ready for the distance, but having done it before I thought it would be ok, especially if we had a good group of Mules to hide behind.

Saturday morning rolled around and the only riders were Paddy, Kevin and me. This should have set off alarm bells as Kevin is very strong right now and Paddy has been building up his mileage consistently, but as the host I couldn't very well bail out at the last minute.

We set off before dawn on a cool but oddly humid morning. I led the guys out of my neighbourhood and onto Eldridge, where we joined the MS-150 route, and we settled into a paceline. The wind was mostly behind us and we made good time, each taking two miles at the front. We decided to ride 30 miles before stopping and that took us conveniently to the diner at the intersection of FM529 and 362. This was where we stopped the last time, but the place was under new management since then and had been spiffed up quite a bit. It was still a good ol' taco truck, but a covered deck had been built around the service hatch, and there were tables and chairs, so it felt quite posh for a roadside joint in the middle of flippin' nowhere. We picked up water and gatorade and headed on.

The wind had got stronger was out of the south-east. The next few miles were dead down-wind and we flew. The road turned west and we had a powerful cross-wind but we were still doing OK. We reached the Brazos, which marks the start of Austin County and the end of the flatlands. The stretch into Bellville has a lot of rollers and a few good climbs. Paddy was suffering a bit, Kevin was as strong as an ox and I was somewhere in between.

Bellville is getting very familiar! We rolled through the Downtown area and on to the Hill restaurant, formerly the home of the best burger in the County (or so it said on their marquee). That honour appears to have gone somewhere else as they were no longer claiming it. Paddy and I had the eponymous sandwich but Kevin opted for breakfast wraps and pronounced them excellent.

Back on the road, and the first few miles back to the Brazos basically did for me. The climbs and the wind together completely sapped my energy, and I couldn't find a comfortable position on my handlebars, which further drained my reserves. We stopped on the bridge for an all-too-short break (no smiles or photos this time) but I was now almost completely dead in the water and had to stop every few miles. Kevin ushered me into place in his wind shadow (a strong cross wind was not helping) but my bike control was weak and I didn't want to get too close. At one stop, when I was lying in the roadside ditch, a motorist stopped to check that we were OK. What a nice surprise - a random act of kindness out in the wilds of Texas. At that break I decided enough was enough, and called Susan for a SAG pick-up (only 30 miles from home).

I was tempted to stay where I was, but Paddy and Kevin cajoled me back into the saddle and then dragged me back to the roadside diner (only one lie-down in the ditch on the way), where I flaked out on the floor, under the eyes of the very kind and concerned proprietors. Paddy and Kevin still had 35 miles to run, with the wind blowing hard and traffic getting heavier, so they set off. Susan showed up (despite me giving her the wrong directions in my addled road-side condition) and we headed home.

Lessons learned: don't try to jump directly from 45 miles to 110 miles, and you can find kind-hearted, hospitable people in unlikely places.

Take the high ground and hold it

2011-03-08T18:33:00.000-08:00

Off to Sealy on a beautiful Spring morning to ride one of my favourite routes, the 47 mile loop via Bernardo and Cat Spring. I couldn't interest any of the Mules and Jorge had to bail on me at the last minute, so I was a lone wolf.

Susan's cousin Grady was in town from Dallas, checking out the course for the Iron Man triathlon in the Woodlands he's entering in April (2 mile swim, 112 mile bike ride, full marathon...), and he gave me a few packets of Gu chews to try, as an alternative to gel packs. Well, if it's good enough for an Iron Man...

It's been quite a while since I rode out there and a few things have changed. Getting out of town is a little tricky but I had the sense to check the map on-line the night before. The route follows FM2187 for a while but then cuts off onto very quiet country roads. The first stretch had been resurfaced and was blissfully smooth in comparison with previous years. I noted the Confederate flag fluttering above a barn on the way. Come on chaps, the Civil War was a long time ago.

On previous rides out here I've seen some spectacular birds, including a scissor-tailed flycatcher and what I swear was a roadrunner. The bird watching wasn't as good this time, but I also didn't get chased by any dogs, which had been an issue in the past.

This ride has a sting in its tail - a short section with a succession of descents and ascents, one of which usually has me gasping. This time was no exception, but I made it through OK. The ride finishes with a 7-mile run down Route 36, a fairly busy road with a wide (but rough!) shoulder, which is the least enjoyable part of the loop. Well, it was worse than usual this time - the State had decided to turn 36 into a four-lane divided highway, and the construction workers had pretty much done away with the shoulder for a good 5 miles of the section. This put me uncomfortably close to the high-speed traffic. Fortunately, most of the drivers were considerate. But I won't be riding this route again for a while, sadly.

(And I finally managed a blog post about a bike ride that didn't mention the wind. Oh bugger)

Zube with a twist

2011-02-28T16:21:00.000-08:00

I invited Jorge, my buddy and colleague, to ride with the Mules last weekend and he offered to pick me up as it was more-or-less on his way. Jorge drives a Mazda 3 hatchback but can't put a bike-rack on it, so he told me he was going to borrow a friend's car - which turned out to be a shiny, almost new Mercedes 230. A friend bought the car and was then transferred out, so Jorge is trying to sell it for him and of course, he needs to drive it every now and then. He had also just bought a gorgeous Specialized bike that looked rather splendid on the back of the Merc. Off we went and in due course pulled up at Zube, where a sizable group of Mules were treated to the sight of a late-model Mercedes with two high-end bikes and two petrophysicists on board. The crowd included both our former and current bosses' boss who may well have concluded that their staff was over-paid.

Off we went in an impressive group of ten, forming two pace-lines. The ride went well but Jorge was finding the pace a bit hot. At the gas station Paddy and some others opted for a longer route. I decided to stay with the 45 mile group, which included Jorge. Off we rolled on the scenic back route via Wyatt Chapel road, with Jorge struggling again. He wasn't tired but couldn't get a full extension of his legs without cramping up. We made the turn on the road running down to Waller but hit a red light at the intersection with I-10. Richard was trying to avoid unclipping until the last minute, hoping the light would change - but it didn't, and he went down in an embarrassed heap while we all cheered.

We stopped at the Shell station to let Jorge stretch out a bit and that seemed to help. The last ten miles went by easily enough. With about three to go, Jason and the gang took off, leaving Sean and I to shepherd Jorge in. Back at Zube we loaded up and headed home. Jorge and I sat in my back yard and enjoyed a beer and a debrief.

Forty-Three mile Fixie Frenzy

2011-02-13T14:56:00.000-08:00

This weekend's outing was the "Ride to the Rescue", an organised ride in Manvel that benefits an animal rescue organization. Manvel is in Brazoria County, south of Houston on the Coastal Plain, and it's flat, flat, flat, so I decided to take my fixie on its first big boy ride.

The ride options were 30, 43 and 60 miles. 60 seemed a bit much on the fixie so I rode the 43. There had been a light freeze on Saturday night, but the forecast called for mid-50's temperatures so I didn't take any real cold weather gear, other than my anorak/bike jacket and my arm warmers. Sitting in the car before the start with the thermometer showing 33 degrees, I felt that perhaps a little more gear would have been in order!

As I was getting ready to join the start line, I saw a Mules jersey go by. It was Kevin S. on his sexy new Willier bike, finally in from Italy. He was impressed to see my fixie and bare legs! Chris H. showed up soon after, also without tights, also wishing she'd brought them.

We set off and I kept pace with Kevin, who is very strong at present. He tried to keep the pace down to 17-18mph for my benefit but didn't manage very well. We picked up two other riders and made a four bike pace line for a while. After about ten miles I dropped back, not able to keep the pace, and then stopped at the first break point to strip off the anorak and arm warmers.

Back on the road, the routes split and I picked up the 43. The wind was starting to pick up too, and one long pull into the breeze had me digging deep. The wind is hard on a heavy bike with no gears. Thankfully we turned right onto a more sheltered country road and I could sit up and relax a bit.

That was the pattern for the rest of the ride - occasional pulls into the wind, occasional downwind stretches, mostly working with a cross wind. I hit every break point, instead of every other one, which is my normal pattern - I felt I was getting enough exercise on the fixie to justify the extra breathers.

Pretty soon we were back in Manvel and then at the finish. I could smell food coming into the parking lot and sure enough there was a group of volunteers grilling hot dogs. I sucked down a chilli dog (hey, I needed the carbs and protein) and ran into Gunilla, another BHP rider, looking pretty comfortable after the 43 mile route. She'd hardly noticed the wind, though - must be in better shape than me. Back to the car and home to a gorgeous afternoon.

Fayetteville Fun

2011-02-12T09:07:00.000-08:00

Keen followers of this blog (you know who you are!) will recall a post titled "Frozen in Fayetteville" from about the same time last year. When I rode the 2010 Club 300 Fayetteville ride with David it was 33 degrees at the start and 34 degrees at the end. The weather looked a lot better last Sunday when Kevin C. and I rode the same event - clear skies, cool at first but warming, but they never tell you about the wind when you hear the weather forecast on the radio. Sure enough there was a blustery wind from the North/Northwest to make life a little more interesting on this quite hilly ride.

The organizers laid out two loop routes - a 17 miler which everyone started on, and an optional 28 mile slog for the masochists - and let's face it, every cyclist has a little masochist in them somewhere.

The first few miles of the 17 mile loop had either a cross-wind or for short sections a glorious tail-wind and we were flying along in fine style, screaming down the descents and practically coasting on the climbs. Then we turned into the wind and it was a different story. This year's route took us up the dreaded Rek Hill - a longish, steepish climb into Fayetteville that you hit on the MS150 at about the 80-mile point. There are guaranteed to be riders pushing their bikes on Rek Hill on the big day. No walkers today, but an already tough climb was not eased by riding into a concrete head wind. Kevin normally out-climbs me with ease, but he was feeling the effects of a recent trip to Malaysia, and dropped back. I got as low as I could and ground it out, reaching the crest well ahead of him and a few others we had picked up.

Pretty quickly I found myself back at the start in Fayetteville and began to wonder if I had missed a turn somewhere. I stopped to strain spuds and then rolled over to Kevin's car, where he was waiting for me, having got in about 30 seconds behind me. We both took the opportunity to strip off some gear (my base layer was dripping wet!), hydrate and rest a little before heading out on the 28 mile loop.

We couldn't quite work out the route from the map we had, but got some guidance from another rider and set out with some misgivings. We saw lots of riders going in the opposite direction, which made us even more concerned that we had gone wrong (we wondered if they were from a different group!) but then saw a route marker and relaxed a bit. Kevin decided that we had indeed missed a turn on the 17 mile loop. I'd probably gone right by a marker, with my head down into the wind, and he had followed me.

Conditions were getting tougher and tougher, and we were both getting tired. We arrived at the break point and stopped for water and a much-needed breather. I asked another rider to take a pic and here it is. We look pretty happy, don't we?

On the road again, and yet more vicious climbs, culminating in a real killer that just about did for us. Normally you get a bit of a descent before a climb, and you try and build momentum to help you up the other side. We approached this one on the flat, into the wind, struggling just to keep going. Ominously, there was a ride marshal and a SAG wagon parked at the bottom of the hill, looking like vultures waiting for some road kill. As we climbed in a group with some other riders I yelled out "Granny ring!" (a cycling term explained in a previous post) and grunted my way to the crest with only one gear left. At the top I took it easy for a while, trying to get my heart-rate and breathing under control, and waiting for Kevin - but he didn't appear. I wondered if he had got in front of me but that didn't seem possible, so I turned round and rode back to see where he was. Soon enough the SAG wagon rolled up with Kevin on board. He had missed a gear, causing both legs to cramp up, hadn't been able to get his shoes unclipped and had fallen over on the side of the road. SAGging seemed like a good idea, although he was a little embarrassed.

I declined the offer of a lift and turned around to resume the ride. The climb had just about done me in though, and I opted to take a short-cut that lopped about 6 miles off the route. Pretty soon I was back in Fayetteville, feeling about as bad as I ever have after a ride. Kevin and I loaded up his jeep and headed out. We stopped at Hruska's for a sausage wrap, a bad idea as it turned out. Back home I promptly retired to my bed for a two hour power nap, and woke feeling much better. I'm glad I don't have to do that again.

Liar dice

2011-01-30T07:41:00.000-08:00

For once, the weather was near perfect for yesterday morning's ride from Zube - clear skies (at least at first), mid-50's temperature and almost no wind (well, it is Texas). A surprisingly low turn-out of Mules was matched by a very large group from the Northwest Cyclery Cycling Club, who have organised rides from Zube every Saturday morning.

I arrived first, but Ian turned up shortly afterwards. For a while it seemed that no-one else was coming, and we talked about riding with the Club. They go off in speed groups - 20+mph, 18-20mph, 16-18mph and 14-16mph - but all ride the same route, which is our standard Mules ride. I thought we would go out with the 18-20 group, as we normally average 18-19mph on our rides, but Ian, who has been out with the Club many times, prefers the 16-18mph group. Apparently both groups are full of Liars, riders who lie about their ability in order to beat the rest of the group, so the 16-18 group actually goes at about 20mph.

With about ten minutes to go before the Club started, Gregor arrived, followed by Alex and Oz. Alex had to change out a wheel, so the rest of us joined the 16-18 group, which was quite large - probably 20 bikes - and formed a double pace-line.

It was a bit of an adjustment to get used to drafting in such a big group. Their practice of hammering through the corners took me by surprise at first, too - the Mules usually take corners slowly and regroup before accelerating. The lead riders on both lines peeled off regularly and I soon found myself pulling the outside line, probably a mistake as it drained a lot of energy, but etiquette (and my pride!) demanded that I do my share of the work.

About 15 miles in, the pace accelerated sharply (as predicted by Ian) and I got spat out of the back of the line. Fortunately there were 4 or 5 other riders in the same position and we formed a secondary pace-line. In Pro cycling this is called a "gruppetto" in Italian, or "autobus" in French - a group of riders from all the teams, usually sprinters and domestiques, who ride together through the mountains to avoid disqualification.

We got to the gas station without too much effort and I thanked the others before joining Ian et al., who had been in for a while. Ian's bike computer showed an average speed (for him and the speedsters!) of about 20 mph - so they were proven Liars. Alex and Oz were there too, having taken a shortcut. We restarted together under cloudy skies and with the wind blowing much harder from the south. Once again I got dropped, but this time I had to ride about 10 miles more or less on my own, before jumping onto the rear wheel of two riders who came through from behind. I stuck with them all the way back, taking a couple of turns at the front.

Back in Zube we exchanged war stories (Oz rode in a relay team in a race all the way from the West Coast to the East a few years back) and talked high-end bikes for a while before I took my leave. Next weekend will see me in Fayetteville on Sunday for an MS-150 ride, so no Zube for once.

Frozen assets

2011-01-23T09:19:00.000-08:00

Another crack of dawn trip to Zube Park, this time under clear skies but with the temperature somewhere between 33 and 28 degrees F, depending on whose car thermometer you believe. A crew of speedsters gathered - Jason, Kevin, Gregor and Ian from Chevron -making me the only tortoise in a field of hares. No American Mules today - the wimps, what's a little frost between friends?

Kevin was looking a bit battered after "kissing the road" last Wednesday. Apparently he was riding back to his car after a few laps of the Fruit Loop in Memorial Park and got his front wheel stuck in a crack in the pavement. With the skinny tires we all use, this is a certain spill and he went down pretty hard, hence the scabs on his face and eyelid, bruises on his thigh and a possibly fractured rib. His bike didn't suffer too badly (he straightened the handlebars and rode back to his car!) but fortunately he wasn't on his new Wilier, which probably would have been much the worse for wear.

I wore all my cold weather gear, including arm warmers, balaclava, overshoes and expensive, Gore-Tex mountain runner's jacket. The latter garment was the cause of much derision the last time I wore it and today was the same. It's not really suitable for cycling but it's the best option I have right now.

There was no wind to speak of when we started, but it picked up later on. The speedsters kept the pace down to about 17-18mph, but I still struggled to stay with them. Jason, bless his Kiwi heart, dropped back a couple of times to pull me back into the group. With about three miles to go to the Exxon station where we break, we saw a lone rider in front and decided to reel him in. Gregor was in the lead and kicked the pace up pretty hard. I was actually able to keep with the group, a very exhilarating experience while it lasted.

At the gas station I decided to strip off as much as I could, including the jacket, which left me wearing only a cycling jersey on top. Ian commented that I would probably do better without the jacket and he was right. I need a more aerodynamic piece of outerwear.

We returned to Zube via Business 290 with a strong cross-wind from the south. I felt pretty strong and not too cold, despite the lack of clothing. The pack dropped me on the climbs but were good enough to wait at the crest. We all shared the lead and worked together well. On the home stretch Gregor and Ian decided that they'd had enough team-work and dropped me easily, but no harm, no foul.

Back home to a delicious bread, cheese and wine lunch courtesy of the Houston Dairymaids, followed by our annual marmalade-making extravaganza. Yum -

Mule train

2011-01-15T16:20:00.001-08:00

Off to Zube on a soggy Saturday morning. It was drizzling when I left home and started raining for real when I got to 290. Fortunately it had dried up by the time I reached Zube, and actually stayed dry all the way round.

I spotted Jason's bumble bee Camaro in the parking lot. He hasn't been on his bike since October, but I suspected (correctly!) that he hadn't lost much. Lee and Kevin soon appeared, and then Tyson (haven't seen him since the MS-150), and off we went. Kevin has a sexy new bike on order (http://wilier-usa.com/en/) that hasn't been delivered yet, but he's dangerous enough as it is on his old Cannondale.

It was Tyson's first outing with the Mules and he wondered how long we'd be out. Turned out he had a kick-boxing training session back in town at 11.00. What it is to be young and full of urine and acetic acid.

As ever it was windy, but for once it was out of the East, so we set off at a good clip, knowing we'd pay the price on the way back. I was wearing my new rain jacket to ward off the cold, and in the expectation of rain. Pretty soon I had a mini-Rain Forest going on.

The group fragmented on the way out but regrouped at the Exxon. I took the bold decision of removing my jacket, exposing my sweat-sodden Mules shirt to the elements. The others looked doubtful (it was still pretty cool) but I couldn't keep going with the jacket on. We headed back along Business 290 into the teeth of the wind and tried to get organised into a pace-line. Once we managed to corral Kevin (he kept accelerating when he took point, instead of keeping a constant pace) it went quite well and we shared the lead pretty efficiently all the way back. Go Mule Train!

Blowin' in the Wind

2011-01-08T13:50:00.000-08:00

True professionals, these Podium Girls kept smiling bravely as the wind turned them into parodies of Marilyn Monroe in "The Seven Year Itch". I had to deal with a lot of wind on my last few rides, too, but did it with much less grace I'm afraid.

The Monday after New Year's Day saw Kevin C. and me riding out at Zube, Kevin's maiden voyage in that neck of the woods. I took MC to IAH that morning so we rode after lunch, a rare event for me. Kevin was constantly on the lookout for traffic but I assured him that the country roads around Zube were pretty quiet. That's true on a weekend morning, not quite so accurate on a Monday afternoon, but most of the drivers were very considerate. We had a tail wind all the way out and a cross-wind all the way back, but managed to work together quite well. I was pretty much beat at the end of the run.

I managed three commuting rides in the week, and it was my Friday off, so I decided to take the fixie out for a spin in Terry Hershey. The weather appeared to be picture-perfect, temperature in the mid-60's under clear skies, and Susan and I had lunch in the garden (in January! This time of year is why we live here). Unfortunately once out of my sheltered back yard and on the open road I realized that there was a good stiff breeze blowing. The fixie is no fun going into the wind - it's heavy and you can't change gear. The wind was out of the west and the route goes due west so I struggled until the turn. The run back was a lot easier but the damage was done and I was a very tired puppy when I got home.

This morning saw me getting up early and heading to Zube for a Mules run. Once again the weather appeared perfect - clear skies, temps in the high 40's, heading for the 60's later - but of course the wind was blowing pretty sharply from the North. For once I'd brought enough gear - tights, arm warmers, jacket - and felt pretty good as we set out. Quite a good turn-out, even though Paddy is away in Vietnam - Kevin S, Gregor, Kenny, Lee (a new mule), Dani (a new face for me but she has a Mules shirt) and a young geo from the office, Mitch. The latter was not well prepared - he was riding with toe-clips, no gloves and a big pack on his back - and couldn't keep up with the usual 18-20 mph pace. We fought the wind on the way out and the group split up, with Kenny and Gregor disappearing into the distance in front, and Mitch falling off behind. Once we turned around life got much easier, and we were dieseling along in high gear without breaking a sweat. It couldn't last, of course, and after the usual break at the Exxon we had a much tougher time. The first mile or so was directly into the wind and I really struggled. At the turn onto Business 290 we quickly got fragmented again - Kenny, Gregor and Lee legged it out at the front, Dani and Mitch were dropping back so Kevin turned round to help them, leaving me on my own. It was a tough pull back with a gusty cross-wind and I was very glad to get back to my car. The fast group had been in for a while and were exchanging war stories (as you do). Dani eventually rolled up, then Kevin and Mitch - apparently they had stopped in Waller for donuts and coffee. We agreed that in future the speedsters would stop and pick up donuts and hand them to the rest of the group as we passed by, just like a feed zone in a pro ride. I'm looking forward to the next one.

La-Z-Boy

2010-12-31T09:16:00.000-08:00

I've been on vacation for about a week and haven't touched a bike since my last ride to work. My commuter bike is sitting outside the back door with a flat and a forlorn expression. In my defense, the weather has been unpredictable but mostly unpleasant, I was busy with Christmas preparations, and tomorrow is our annual New Year's Day Open house, so opportunities have been limited. The Mules have been quiet, too, but Kevin wants to ride out of Zube before we both go back to work, so maybe we'll go Sunday.

Santa stopped off at the bike shop this year and brought me a very spiffy rain jacket because I've been extra good. I also received a very nice flashing light that attaches to my spokes so I should be quite a sight when next I ride in the rain after dark.

We'll be having a flat-fixing master class pretty soon. MC's bike at college got a flat and she doesn't know how to repair it, so we're going to have a hands-on session with her old bike. Unfortunately it's the back wheel, so she has to wrangle the chain as well as get the tire off and back on again. I anticipate a video Skype session with her when she gets back to Roanoke.

You've gotta have friends -

2010-12-11T15:29:00.000-08:00

I've decided to return to the Mule Paddock, but wasn't sure if anyone would be riding today, as the BHP Holiday Party is tonight. I texted Paddy to see but had no reply by 6.00am this morning, so I opted to go with the Bicycle World group instead. Imagine my surprise when I read a Facebook update from him talking about a tough ride with Gregor et al...

I did enjoy the ride today, though, mainly because I met three or four new riders who turned out to be very interesting. The first was Ian, a 23-year old whippersnapper who works for Oceaneering and actually built some of the kit on one of the deepwater rigs we use. His father, who's from Glasgow, was working in Aberdeen about the same time as me (ie, early 80's) but moved his family to Houston when Ian was a kid. He's a very strong rider but took pity on me when we were at the head of the paceline.

My next new friend was Kevin, a pretty remarkable 50-year old who is just moving in to Houston from Phoenix. He and a fellow 50-year old recently won a 24 hour mountain bike race, completing 21 laps of a 10-mile circuit in the allotted time period. He has three boys - the oldest just finished a 5 year hitch in the Navy and is now studying computer programming, the middle son is the top gunner on a Humvee in Northern Iraq (!) and the youngest is still in school. Plenty more Kevin stories -

Another newbie I got chatting with is a trainer at the MAC. He recounted the tale of being in a paceline at 30 mph recently, when the rider in front hit the brakes. My buddy went down and the next guy in the line rode right over the top of him! He broke the frame on his gorgeous Felt bike and had to get a new one.

So it was fun to meet some new people, and it was a good ride too (although the wind coming down the home stretch in front of the Dam was brutal). Maybe I need to reconsider...

Spinning in the snow

2010-12-04T13:11:00.000-08:00

Two weeks ago Susan and I drove north to spend Thanksgiving with her extended family. Our two kids also came in (MC flew in from Virginia, James got the train from Indiana) and we had a lot of fun. Since the hotel we were using has a small gym, I brought indoor biking gear, planning to burn off some pecan pie on a static bike. When Susan's sister Nancy heard this, she suggested a spin class at the local exercise studio and actually had coupons for two free sessions.

Susan's home town, Morris IL, is the epitome of small town America. It's the county seat of Grundy County, and boasts a population of 10,200 and a powerhouse high-school football team. When I first visited in the early 80's there was still a downtown drugstore, cinema and grocery store. Now of course everything has moved out to the outskirts of town, handy for I-80 and US 47, and the stores on Liberty (aka "The Gut") sell knick-knacks and crap that indulgent grandmothers buy for their grand babies. Actually it's not as bad as some of the small towns I've seen in Texas - there are also cafes, a wine merchant, a book shop and of course the exercise studio, which brings me back to the subject of this posting, a spin session on a very chilly morning.

It was a balmy 29 deg F as I walked briskly across the road from my parking spot just outside the Gun Reloading store (seriously). I got a warm welcome from the owner/instructor Lynette, who pointed me to the one rest-room to change into my exercise gear. Her gym doesn't offer quite the same amenities as Lifetime Fitness back in Memorial, but the bikes were all new, she had two different models, and they all had a computer that picked up my heart-rate monitor.

I chose a bike that looked identical to the ones I normally use, set it up with the same settings and off we went. At first it was just me but pretty soon a good group had assembled, all women, all regulars who were on first-name terms. Lynette got us going at a cracking pace and in general pushed us harder than Zoe, her counterpart in Houston. The other riders clearly had no problem with the level of effort required, however, and kept up the banter. The two women on either side of me appeared to have a calorie-burning competition going on!

I managed the full 45 minutes but was very glad to get off the bike at the end. I tried to pay for my session (of course I'd left Nancy's coupons at her parent's house) but Lynette insisted that the first ride was always free, even when I pointed out that I had no idea when my next ride would be. Normally I'd cool down and shower after a spin class but that was not an option, so I changed out of my wet gear and dashed to my car, feeling virtuous and ready for some serious gluttony. I love Thanksgiving.

Getting to know you

2010-11-06T15:44:00.000-07:00

A chilly start to today's Truth Squad ride - 40 degrees at 7.00 am - but I decided to risk the ridicule of my fellow riders by showing up in my regular, Houston-in-the-Summer outfit, on the principle that it would be warmer later and I didn't want to over-heat. I was fully kitted-out in new, birthday present attire, with my bib shorts (first time ever in bibs!) and socks.

Last week we'd agreed to try a different, slightly longer route, hopefully missing out a few of the traffic lights that make the normal runs tedious. This involved a run north on Eldridge, then a left turn onto Clay, all the way to Katy and back on the regular Old Katy route. We duly set out, missing Denis, Keith and Mike, but with the addition of Susan and Bruce. The run north on Dairy-Ashford generated a few complaints (this is worse than Memorial, etc). We turned on to Eldridge and climbed the largest hill in West Houston (a short but steepish ramp over the Addicks dam). I was in the lead and looked back to see that the group was pretty fragmented already.

It was pretty damn cold but I was OK, at least while riding in the sun. The shaded sections were a different story...

We made the turn on Clay, but unfortunately not only were there traffic lights, there was also a lot of traffic. I wanted to keep the pace high but the group couldn't keep together, and we had to settle for about 17 mph. And then Jolynne flatted. We pulled in to a gas station and Bruce took over. Turns out he was a mechanic for a Pro-Cycling team for 45 years! He stripped out the old tube and had the new one in place in a flash. Sadly, though, the tube turned out to be bad - it didn't hold any inflation - and he had to put another in, leaving Jolynne without a spare. By now it was 8.30 and Jamie couldn't go any further (she has to be back by 10.00 am to work in the shop). With no spare tube, Jolynne didn't want to go any further either and Bruce needed to get back too. I wanted to keep going and so did Susan, so the group split up with Susan and I heading west on Clay and the others heading back south to pick up the trail.

So there we were, Susan and I, cruising along together. She was struggling to make the pace but toughed it out. She was also very chatty and I learned quite a lot about her over the course of the next hour or two. Clay continued to be busy and Susan wanted to ride side-by-side. Single-file would have been better, and several motorists let us know in the time-honored fashion.

A bit further on and the road got much quieter and became more of a country road, similar to many back country routes out by Hempstead. We saw two magnificent hawks on telegraph poles. One I'm sure was a red-tailed hawk, the other was even bigger. The saddle of a bike really is the best place to go bird-watching.

We kept rolling west, with a decent tail-wind. Susan was struggling a bit and I was wondering when we'd reach the turn - Avenue D in Old Katy. Eventually I decided we had either missed the turn or the directions were wrong, and we turned south at the next opportunity. Susan had the temerity to suggest that we ask for directions at a house! I had to explain that males, and male bikers in particular, did not do that.

The road T-d out and we turned left, heading back east. This turned out to be a good call, as we pretty soon got back into Old Katy and saw Avenue D, which did not in fact go through to Clay. Anyway, no problem, we were back on the map. We turned south, found the Shell station and had a quick break, then headed back on Franz.

We were running into the wind, but it wasn't too bad for me. Unfortunately Susan was about played out and the wind hit her hard. I tried to encourage her to draft behind me but she didn't really get it, so it was quite a trek back to the Park. Once in the Park she got her second wind and we made it back OK.

Back at the shop I gave Jamie some grief for misleading directions and then went to visit Bruce, who had set up a stand to advertise his company's products (bike degreaser and chain lube). He was showing riders how to clean their bikes in 10 minutes, pro-style, and did mine for me. Very impressive, and the bike is very clean, but it's a very messy process, not really suitable for a garage. Back home for lunch and a beer.

All aboard for the Estrogen Express

2010-10-17T16:37:00.000-07:00

Last weekend Bicycle World and Fitness added a third Saturday morning ride, an intermediate paced outing for those not strong enough for the International Liars' Club but too fast for Manny's ride. Jamie "Green Ears", who works as a sales associate at the shop, was leading and christened us "The Truth Squad", as we are like the ILC but with 10% more truthiness. The first ride included Jamie and Jeremy (who also works at BW&F), Denis and me, and we had a lot of fun on the short-ish run to Katy Mills Mall and back.

Yesterday we were joined by a few more riders, some of whom were refugees from the ILC and some poached from Manny. I persuaded Jolynne to come along and I think she had fun. At the first stop light I realised that there were more women than men in the group, whence "The Estrogen Express"'.

Unlike Manny's ride, we don't try to keep together as a group, and since the route includes numerous traffic lights, it's easy to get split up. That's exactly what happened fairly quickly and I found myself in a mini-peleton in front of the rest, with an English lady and a younger American woman, who turned out to be the strongest rider in the group by far.

We regrouped at the turn-around (Walgreens on Pin Oak road) but split off from the pack again, this time with Denis too. I pulled for a while but the pace was too hot and I had to drop back and draft. This gave me an opportunity to chat with the English lady, who rides with the ILC normally but tends to get dropped after 30-40 miles. She's still a pretty strong rider.

Back in the Park, we passed Manny's group, who were resting at the Cop Shop, and headed onto Wind Alley. The young American woman took off like a scalded cat and I let her go. She ran into traffic not far along though, and Denis, the English lady and I caught her, and latched on to her back wheel for the rest of the run.

I'll keep riding with The Truth Squad for now. If we get enough riders, Jamie will be able to go further than 30 miles (for now she has to be back by 10.00 am to open the shop), delaying my return to the Mules' Paddock and driving half an hour for a ride.

Peeling the Big Apple

2010-10-09T15:03:00.001-07:00

Susan and I were in New York City at the end of September, meeting some friends from London. We took the Circle Line ferry around the island on a beautiful late afternoon/evening cruise (and saw Lady Liberty) and the next morning I got up bright and early to ride the Manhattan Greenway, a 32-mile trail that follows the waterfront and is mostly on dedicated hike/bike paths.

I had arranged to rent a bike at Pier 84 on the Hudson river, coincidentally right next to the Circle Line ferry terminal. Our hotel was at the other end of 42nd street and I planned to get breakfast and then hop on the Cross-town bus. I managed breakfast OK but waited twenty minutes for the bus, before deciding to start walking. Of course, as soon as I was too far from a stop to catch it, the bus rolled by. I ended up walking all the way, but it was a pleasant morning (if chilly!) and I arrived just as the shop was opening at 9.00am.

They gave me a pretty crappy comfort bike, but it looked sturdy enough. Sadly they had no helmets and advised me to pick one up at another of their locations. I headed south, to round the island counter-clockwise, just like the ferry. The path along this portion of the Hudson river was well laid out, with clearly marked bike and runner lanes, and dedicated traffic lights. I made the out-of-towner's mistake of stopping at one of the lights - the locals all whizzed through without a glance.

After a few miles I was diverted off the trail and onto the street, presumably due to construction. The roads were very quiet and it was easy to follow the diversion. I arrived in Battery Park, the southern tip of Manhattan, pretty quickly and found the bike rental place's other location, where they gave me a helmet. I headed on, feeling a lot safer.

The ferries to Liberty and Ellis islands leave from Battery Park and the lines were already very long. The Vietnam Veterans' Memorial is right by the ferries.

The trail was not very well marked through this section and I was pretty much just following the water front. After a while it got better and I began to enjoy the view. It was quite a thrill to ride under the storied Brooklyn Bridge, too.

There were a few other cyclists on this stretch along the East River and a fair number of walkers and runners. I passed Stuyvesant Cove, with its seating areas in little groves of trees, and saw a few people deeply engrossed in their reading, despite being well wrapped-up against the chill. Another man was going through a Tai-Chi routine, perhaps a little half-heartedly.

The trail moves away from the Water Front at about 30th Street and you're on the street for a few blocks. Another rider was with me as I turned west against the traffic and I asked him if he knew the way. He didn't, but lives on the West Side and enjoys little cycling adventures (less than 5 miles from his home! Come down to Texas some time, pardner). He told me that he rides year-round, which is impressive given the winters here. I turned north on 1st Avenue, which was fortunately still pretty quiet and has a bus lane.

I stopped at a light at 42nd street and was asked for directions by two young women. Luckily they wanted to go to Grand Central station, which was just a few blocks away. Further up 1st, I started looking for the path back to the Greenway but it was not very obvious (I found myself on the access road to the Midtown tunnel at one point!). As I needed to answer a call of nature, I stopped at a Dunkin' Donuts to look at my map, get a coffee (surprisingly good, even for a coffee snob like me) and strain the spuds, if you know what I mean. The bike rental included a D-lock so I chained my steed to the railings and marched in, head held high in my Mules shirt and cycling cap.

Much refreshed and with a better (but actually misguided!) idea of where I was, I set out again. I couldn't find the access point that appeared to be quite near, but the next (at 79th street) was a bit more obvious - an overpass over the FDR - and I was back in business. The trail was wider and better laid-out along this section, but the wind was right in my face and had picked up quite a bit. The Willis Street bridge appeared, marking the entrance to the Harlem river.

The next stretch involved quite a long run through Harlem at street level, to the northern-most point of the ride. I left the Greenway at 120th street and quickly picked up a bike lane. The next few blocks were very pleasant, going past brownstone after sunlit brownstone, with the smell of Sunday lunch being prepared. I got to Frederick Douglass Boulevard and turned north. No more bike lane but the road is wide and there wasn't much traffic. Every few blocks there was a large, shiny SUV double-parked, with windows open and hip-hop music blasting. Towards the end of this stretch I heard some loud music and looked around for the SUV. Instead I saw a young man on what looked like a home-made trike with two enormous speakers. We rode side-by-side for a while, boom-boom-a-boom and some very salty language, until he saw a friend and pulled over.

I reached what I thought was the turn that would put me back on the Greenway, but it dead-ended at the base of the supports for a large bridge. A look at the map confirmed that I was in the right place, so I scouted around for the trail. There was a path leading into a housing project (The Polo Grounds Housing Association, built with a donation from baseball great Willie Mays) and I took it, in the hope that it would lead to the Greenway. It didn't, but I rode around the project for about 10 minutes looking for it. I eventually found myself back on Frederick Douglass heading south.

Another look at the map and I saw an alternate route, going round the south end of Jackie Robinson park. I decided to ride one block off Frederick Douglass, which was starting to get busy. No signs of a route through the park so at the south end I turned right and immediately hit a pretty sharp climb, which got my legs warmed up nicely. Half-way up I saw signs for the Greenway, quite a relief after wandering around Harlem aimlessly for what seemed like hours.

I was now in Hamilton Heights, which sits atop the ridge of volcanic rock that is the spine of Manhattan. A few blocks north and I picked up entrance onto the Harlem River Speedway, one of the highlights of the Greenway ride. I crossed the bridge that had blocked my way earlier and realised that if I had climbed the stairs by the side of the supports, I would have been back on track. Oh well, I was in good shape now, and enjoyed the run down to the river front. I couldn't resist a shot of this nice exposure of schist.

The Harlem River Speedway was delightful - a wide, smooth surface, great views all around, hardly anyone else in sight - but it was over all to soon, and I was dumped out on Dyckman Street in Inwood. A few blocks in this busy neighbourhood and then I picked up the Greenway for the run down the Hudson river, the final section of my ride.

I joined the trail right by The Cloisters Museum and Fort Tryon park. It runs parallel but separate from a busy highway. You run down hill for the first mile or so and there are breathtaking views of the Hudson River between the trees that line the trail. I caught a glimpse of the George Washington Bridge (sadly in the public eye at the time, due to the gay student at Rutgers who killed himself by jumping from it, after bullying by his room-mate). You really wouldn't know that you were in Manhattan up here - no houses to see, just river and trees.

Back on the flat and I detour to look at the Little Red Lighthouse, apparently the subject of a children's book, sitting under the GW bridge. No longer used, it once was an important navigational aid along the Hudson, and is on the National Register of Historic Places. It's a must-see landmark on the Greenway and here it is.

The trail winds its way south, in and out of trees, playgrounds and sports fields. It was getting busier with every mile and pretty soon I was back at the bike rental shop, ready to get off the bike and eat something. I managed to get the cross-town bus pretty quickly and was soon back in the hotel.

Despite getting lost twice, I enjoyed the ride and would do it again in a New York minute, as they say.

Isn't it Fall yet?

2010-09-18T15:35:00.000-07:00

Not around here it isn't, although the mornings are cooler (but still humid). Out with Manny's group this morning for the usual Saturday thrash around Terry Hershey/George Bush parks. A surprisingly small group today - only eight, very odd given that at the height of summer we regularly had 20+ riders. Some of the stalwarts were missing, too.

The ride was fun, relatively low-key (no Keith or Denis to make me sweat!) and uneventful. There was a young rider on an 80's Bianchi in gorgeous condition. I asked him if he was younger than his bike and it turns out that they are the same age! He kept up with the pace well but flatted on the way back.

One advantage of the cooler weather is that it's easier to stay hydrated, which in turn means I don't finish the ride feeling like death warmed up. My time with Manny's group is limited - I'll soon have to rejoin the Mules and start thinking about the MS150 - but it's been a blast riding with them. Here's a shot of one of the larger groups.

another new bike???

2010-08-30T04:46:00.000-07:00

well, yes, but this one was for Mary-Claire. I just took her back to school (Hollins University in Virginia) and we decided to get her a bike to give her a bit more mobility around campus.

I had hoped to get her something from an independent bike shop, on the principles that the quality would be better and the service more knowledgeable, and in the desire to stick it to the (Corporate) Man. Sadly (unlike the Bayou City) none of the Roanoke LBS' were open on Sunday, the only day we had to shop. Come on Guys, if you're going to survive in the teeth of competition from the Big Box stores you're going to have to get up on Sunday mornings.

I was starting to think we would have to hit Wally-World, but then we spotted a branch of Dick's Sporting goods near our hotel. A quick check on the Tubes showed that they carried decent-looking bikes, so off we went. I'd never heard of this chain before, even though there is apparently one in Houston. It turned out to be a slightly down-market version of Sport Authority/Academy, but they had a few bikes that tickled MC's fancy. She rode this little beauty (Diamondback Vital) around the store and liked it, although the seat/handlebar set-up felt a bit odd. Our sales guy/mechanic raised the saddle and it all fell into place for her. We added a kick-stand (despite grumblings from me!), bottle rack and a combination lock, then added a helmet (in a matching shade of blue, natch), a pump and a water bottle and she was good to go.

I discussed maintenance options with the Dick's guy. I don't expect her to maintain the bike (I don't maintain mine, other than cleaning and lube, after all) but I thought she should be able to do basic stuff, like repair a flat. He convinced me to throw down $50 on a 3-year maintenance plan, which will allow her to bring the bike back for basic repairs and adjustments at no charge. I don't normally like these deals and never buy them, but this one made sense. Of course, she'll need to get the bike back to the store but she will probably be able to sweet-talk a friend with a car into giving her a lift.

Happy riding, MC!

Pick on someone your own speed

2010-08-14T16:02:00.000-07:00

For Manny's ride today we were joined by a refugee from the International Liars Club, the other group that rides out of Bicycle World. One big difference, though - they average well above 20 mph and usually go a lot further than our 30 miles. The ILC (as they call themselves) were doing a century ride (ie, 100 miles) and started at 6.15am. They obviously forgot to tell everyone because one of their guys showed up at 7.00am and had to ride with the weenies instead.

The Liar (didn't catch his name) set a hot pace through the Park but the rest of the Gang held back, as it's really not safe, with all the foot traffic. We regrouped at the Dam but he soon had a commanding lead once more. I had three other riders with me and tried to organize them into a pace-line, with everyone taking their turn at the front, but they didn't really get it.

After the break at the Cop Shop I found myself drafting behind the Liar and another pretty fast rider who was also new to the group. I hung with them but the pace was too much and I soon dropped back to join my buddies. This was the pattern for the rest of the ride but the time with the speedsters was taking its toll on my stamina. On the final stretch they dropped me about a mile out and I struggled in on an empty tank. It was also ferociously hot and I was getting dehydrated, which didn't help.

Back at Bicycle World, I sat inside and enjoyed the AC for a while, not something I do normally. Eventually I dragged myself home and promptly fell asleep on the sofa, feeling pretty crap. Susan made me a wonderful cheese omelet for lunch and I started to feel a bit better. Next time one of these Major Leaguers shows up to ride with the Triple-A group, I'm going to let them have their fun on their own, and hang back where I belong.

Old dogs, old tricks

2010-08-08T07:36:00.000-07:00

We've recently been watching re-runs of the BBC TV Show "New Tricks". It's a Brit version of "Cold Case", in which detectives try to solve old cases when new evidence emerges. The twist is that the investigating team is composed of retired detectives, hence Old Dogs and New Tricks. The insider joke for us older Brits is that all three of the retirees are familiar TV faces from the 70's and 80's, including James Bolam ("Whatever happened to the Likely Lads?") and Denis Waterman ("The Sweeney", "Minder").

What's all this got to do with cycling, you may ask. Well, yesterday morning's group for the regular Bicycle World no-drop ride included dogs both old (me and a few others) and young (two high-school kids) in an unusually large peloton of 23 riders, and tricks both old and new were on display.

We got off to a pretty slow start, mainly due to the very large number of runners in the park. Registration for the 2011 Houston marathon is about to open and it seems that everyone wants to start their training early. Once clear of the park we got going at a better pace, with me heading the charge as usual. Two other riders kept with me, Keith (who owns and runs a restaurant in Copperfield) and a 17-year old High School student whose name I didn't catch. The pace clearly wasn't that hot because the group re-formed pretty quickly and we set out again through George Bush park.

I took the lead once more and we formed a pretty good pace-line at about 19-20 mph, which held together pretty much all the way to Fry road. On the final stretch Kevin took a great lead-out from me (entirely unintentional I have to say) and blew past, with the High Schooler hot on his trail. I let them go, feeling the need for a blow after pulling all the way.

Once again the group reassembled pretty quickly. Manny (the ride leader) gave a brief lecture on riding style and pedaling efficiency, then organised a group photo. We rolled out a few minutes later and once more I was up front pulling hard. Halfway up Barker-Clodine I decided to let someone else do the work for a while and gave the universal sign for the pace-line to pass me (tap the thigh, swing to the left). Unfortunately the number 2 rider didn't speak the universal language and stayed locked on to my back wheel, so I slowed down and gave an extravagant "after you, Claude" gesture, at which point he got it and blew past. Right behind him was a young woman in a Toyota jersey and I slotted in behind her.

A little further on I got my wind back and took up the lead, increasing the pace a notch as I went. This turned out to be too much for the other two and I dropped them pretty fast. When I eased back, though, I was quickly caught by Keith and the high-school kid and we cruised in to the Cop Shop together, with the rest of the pace-line pretty close behind.

A short break to regroup and then off for the final leg (usually called "Wind Alley"). A pace-line formed pretty quickly, with me at second wheel, when Toyota Girl blew past at a flat-out sprint. I jumped on her wheel and hung on grimly as she set a fierce pace. She eased back after about 5 minutes and was surprised when I blew past her. She came back strongly and passed me again but couldn't sustain the pace and I dropped her for good with about a mile to run.

Back in the Park and the pace drops to a spin and grin. Keith and I chat as we go, and I tell him about the Mules, and my plan to return to the fold when the weather cools off. At the final regrouping point Toyota Girl joins us and I tell her that I thought the gas pedal on the Toyota must have got stuck down when she sprinted past the line. She didn't seem to find that funny, perhaps not enjoying getting a lesson in riding from Grandpa. The high-school kid and Keith got the joke, though.

too hot to handle

2010-07-25T08:07:00.000-07:00

I'm still hiding from the rampaging Mules, going out every Saturday morning with the Bicycle World no-drop group. Yesterday I took the fixie and did the full 30+ miles for the first time (my previous outing was cut short by flooding). Each week there's a group that rides a bit faster than the rest, and there were two of the speedsters at the start, so I knew I'd get a workout.

It was definitely a stretch for me but I kept the pace up all the way out. At one point a rider in the group who I hadn't seen before told me he'd never seen anyone go so fast on a fixie! He needs to get out more, I can hit 20, maybe a little more, but that's about it.

After the break at the turn, I held back and let the fast group start first. I pushed pretty hard all the way back to the Constable Station (where we regroup for the last time) and arrived a few minutes behind, blowing hard and feeling pretty much done for the day. But I had one last surge in my legs - we set out in a pace line and with about a mile to go I kicked and roared past, giving the leader a cowboy yell as I went. Denis had latched on to my wheel and once I cleared the line, he popped a cog and left me for dead. That must be how the pro sprinters feel when Cavendish drops them like a bad habit in the last 200m of a race.

After those heroics I was pretty much done for the day, but Denis (bless his cotton cycling socks) hung back at the bridge and paced me in. We made it back to Bicycle World in time to watch the Tour time trial - a foregone conclusion of course, but I think that history will treat Contador badly after his display of poor sportsmanship in the Pyrenees. Off home for lunch and a nap before heading to The Woodlands to see Robert Plant.

Fixin' to ride

2010-07-04T12:16:00.000-07:00

Down here they have a very useful construction - "fixin'". It's shorthand for getting ready to do something, so if you're getting your junk together to go shopping (let's say), you're fixin' to go. I always wonder how you would say that you're preparing to fix something, but it never seems to occur. Anyway, this Independence Day morning I decided to pull up my big girl pants and take the fixie out for a longer run than the neighbourhood spins I've done so far - so I was fixin' to ride my fixie.

I opted to ride the route that the Saturday Morning group follows, mainly because there are no hills at all - I didn't fancy climbing in only one, fairly tough gear. So off I went, muttering "fixie, fixie" under my breath to remind myself that I wasn't on board a standard bike.

It was a fairly uneventful ride all the way out, although I had to force myself to keep pedaling a couple of times when my legs wanted to coast through some tight spots and turns. The Park trail ends at the Addicks Dam, and the Corps of Engineers was letting a lot of water out into Buffalo Bayou following all the rain we've had from Hurricane Alex - quite a sight. In fact the tunnel under Route 6 looked like it had been almost completely submerged at some point, with debris high on the structure.

Over the bridge and on to the Dam access road, where I stretched my legs a bit. I was told that riding a fixie is a great work-out, and they weren't lying, but I got a good cadence going and felt more comfortable. There was another rider on a standard bike ahead, so I tried to catch him and got pretty close before having to slow down for the gate by the Constable Station.

The next leg goes through the reservoir that's held back by the dam. It's normally dry but I had an inkling that today would be different, and sure enough, the trail was flooded out about 1/2 mile down. Time to turn around and crank her up again. The wind seemed to have picked up a bit and I found myself wishing I had a few gears to play with.

Back in the Park and then home before it got too hot. I managed 28 miles on the fixie and didn't fall off once. It's definitely a different way to ride and I think it's fun, but I'm not sure. Anyway it's certainly great exercise and promotes good pedaling, so I'll keep at it.

If it ain't fixed, it's broke

2010-06-25T08:07:00.000-07:00

Every other bike we saw in Seattle was a fixie, and many of them didn't have brakes, quite amazing given the hilly terrain. I went into a bike shop and they had a whole rack of fixies, all singing a siren song to me.

So once back in Houston I took my lovely Italian roadster to my LBS and asked them to convert it from 12 gears to one (and no freewheel, thanks). They called me a few days later with bad news - they didn't want to do it because the bike wouldn't be safe (rear dropouts pointing forward and too much space between the chain stays). However, they would be happy to sell me a very nice Bianchi model for $700.

Enter Ebay, and a bike retailer offering a new Dawes fixie for $220 (MRP: $700). This seemed too good to be true, so I did a little research and found out about BikesDirect, a manufacturer of low-spec bikes sold exclusively on-line. The cheap fixie was undoubtedly one of their offerings. On-line opinion of the quality of BD products varied dramatically. Some people were very dismissive, others had better experiences. Since the failed Italian conversion would have cost me about $200, I didn't have much to lose and decided to take a chance on SportyMama (the Ebay e-tailer).

The bike arrived very promptly and I opted to assemble it myself (no gears, so no serious adjustments needed). It has been christened "The Gold Standard" for obvious reasons and I've taken it out for a few casual spins around the neighbourhood. Riding a fixie is definitely different! No more coasting through corners, or after standing on the pedals - the bike tells you quite firmly that this is not allowed. A bit more practice and I'll take it on one of the Saturday morning runs (see previous post), although I won't be leading the group.

Sadly, the acquisition of another bike means I have to dispose of the Italian job. I put it on Craig's List and got a lot of responses - perhaps the price was too low. Anyway, we'll see how serious they are.

Slowing the pace

2010-06-05T15:44:00.000-07:00

Back home after two weeks on vacation, mostly out of town, and my buttocks didn't see a saddle for the whole time we were away. There was a nice trail in Victoria (The Galloping Goose!) but the weather wasn't very conducive to leisure riding.

I wanted to get back into the swing of riding and exercising, so I hit the gym yesterday (30 minutes stationary bike, 15 minutes rowing machine) and planned a ride today. The Mules were going out from Zube, but I'm sure they are all in very good shape right now (training for the Hotter-than-Hell) and I didn't fancy the punishment of trailing after them for 40 miles in the summer heat. Looking around the web, I saw that my local bike shop, Bicycle World and Fitness, does an easy-paced, no-drop ride every Saturday morning - just the ticket for a rider trying to get it back together. Also, it's barely 10 minutes ride from the house, so no need to load up the car.

So at 7.00am today I pulled up outside the shop and joined a smallish group (maybe 20), mostly older people, nobody looking like a very serious rider. We headed out for Terry Hershey at a fairly sedate pace, and kept it there all the way through to Route 6. Just as I began to wonder if I had set my sights too low, one or two riders broke from the pack and took off at a better pace. I jumped on and pretty soon there were just two of us, going pretty quick.

The ride leader wanted us to regroup at the Constable's station, and my buddy and I got there well ahead of the pack. We chatted for a while - he's a lot younger than me and training for a couple of triathlons later in the year. We regrouped and headed out - once again, the two of us broke clear pretty quickly. I took the lead halfway down Barker-Clodine and tried to keep the pace up for the other guy - but I made it too hot, and dropped him (totally unintentionally!). I eased off and he got back on. It turned out that he didn't really know how to draft, so was having to work too hard when he should have been taking it easy.

On into George Bush Park, riding together this time. We reached Fry road and waited for the pack, chatting some more. The group gathered and our leader, Manny from the bike shop, gave us an impromptu lecture on nutrition. Turns out he's the official nutritionist for a Pro team, Team Type-1, who are riding the RAAM (Race Across America, Anaheim CA to Annapolis MD) this month, so he has chops for sure. He passed on some very interesting info, mostly in complete contradiction to my own limited ideas about cycling nutrition. I may have to change up a few things.

Back on the road and once again Kenzie and I take the lead. Another stop at the Constable's station, then a pretty hot sprint back to Route 6 where I drop my new buddy again. Once in Terry Hershey we regroup and take it easy - too much foot and bike traffic to race anyway. Then it's back to the bike store for a chat with the mechanics about converting my old 12-speed into a fixed-gear bike. It's a short but sweaty ride home from there.

Swallows and Amazons

2010-06-02T09:05:00.000-07:00

Swallows and Amazons was the first book in a series of children's novels written in the 30's by Arthur Ransome, about the adventures of a group of kids learning to sail in the Lake District. I was reminded of the stories and their setting while standing by Beaver Lake, in Victoria BC where we were just recently on holiday. It's very picturesque - the lake is beautiful, there are trees all around, lots of Canada geese (as James says, in Canada they are just called "geese") and mallards - and on the day we visited, there were rowing boats (coxless fours no less) out training, mostly apparently crewed by women. As there were also a number of swallows doing aerobatics just above the water, you can see why Ransome's tales came to mind. Wikipedia just reminded me that one of the crew of the Swallow was called "Titty", a source of amusement for generations of kids, and changed to "Kitty" for the movie version.

Jason the Camaronaut

2010-05-16T13:23:00.000-07:00

This week's featured rider is - Jason Flockton! This diminutive Antipodean powerhouse is probably the best sprinter in the group (sorry Mike, he left you for dead today), and is also known for taking on more than his fair share of time at the head of the peloton.

Jason and Mike showed up for today's weekly thrash around Hempstead, bad news for me as they're both very strong at present. After all the rain yesterday it was pretty foggy this morning and it stayed that way for most of the ride, making it very sticky and uncomfortable. Mike and Jason set a cracking pace but let me sit at second wheel for most of the way. There was a head wind all the way out (huh? How can it be foggy and windy at the same time?), but despite Mike's gloomy prognostications, it didn't switch direction on us at the gas station and we had a tail wind all the way in.

Back at Zube we took a close look at Jason's new car, a bright yellow Camaro. Its miniscule trunk

makes it the perfect choice for a travelling cyclist (sarcasm/jealousy alert here). The kids at school think it looks like a bumble bee - I leave you to form your own opinion.

Hogan's a Hero

2010-05-02T16:10:00.000-07:00

Mike Hogan, that is, 50-something Category 5 road racer and one of our senior safety people. He's also the only other person to show up at Zube this morning, despite Paddy emailing me that he would definitely be there. Mike's act of heroism today was to drag me round the 40 mile circuit under difficult wind conditions and not roll his eyes too much when he had to wait at the top of all the climbs.

It was a beautiful morning when we started, cool and not at all humid, but with a stiffish breeze coming out of the north-west. Since the route heads mostly north and west until we get to the gas station and turn around, we spent a lot of time fighting a screaming head or cross wind. We joked that with our luck the wind would have shifted into our face again by the time we headed back. I think we tempted fate -

Mike kept up a pretty good pace but I was able to keep with him, although I spent a lot of time drafting. While riding side-to-side we had a good chat about the industry (and the Deepwater Horizon disaster) road-racing and our Missing-in-Action riding buddies (which included Gregor, who was supposed to show but didn't, and left his phone off to boot).

Back at Zube I took a shot of Mike and his sexy time-trial bike that he brought today (instead of his highly-sexy Pinarello). Here he is, your hero and mine -

Houston-Austin: "A weekend in Hell"

2010-04-19T18:45:00.000-07:00

OK, it wasn't as bad as that! The real "Sunday in Hell" is the Paris-Roubaix pro race that's run every Easter over cobbled roads in Northern France. This year's MS-150 was a struggle for me, mainly because I couldn't get enough training, due to sickness and bad weather. Next year will be better!

A lot of logistics to wrangle this time. Susan's sister's partner's twin brother David, who lives in Austin, rode the bus down on Friday and spent the night with us. I drove him to the start (to drop his bag and pick up his bike), then drove back home where I'd arranged to meet up with Christina and Taylor. We saddled up and rode to the BHP start, where we hooked up with the rest of the team, including David - all by 7.00am.

We have our own team start partly for a bit of pre-ride bonding, but mostly to avoid the chaos at the official start (10,000+ riders all trying to get off at the same time!). Sadly, this year the official start had been moved and our route took as right to it - so we had to wait anyway. Oh well, it was a good opportunity for more bonding, and got us ready for the endless lines that would face us over the next two days.

Off we went on a clear, cool morning with a fair tail wind and storms in the forecast. I'd forgotten just how flat it is around the city - we didn't climb anything close to a hill until about forty miles out, practically at the lunch stop. The rain held off and it was pretty comfortable riding all the way. Unfortunately my lack of training was starting to make itself known, via a certain discomfort in the hinterlands, so to speak. This was to continue all day and into Sunday. Experienced riders tell you that miles make smiles, and they don't mean that your legs get stronger.

The tail wind kept going, but by mile 65 or so I was running out of steam. Everything hurt (feet/backside/back/neck/shoulders) and the climbs were really taking a toll. I knew that I had one big climb outside Fayetteville to face - the dreaded Rek Hill - and wasn't sure there was enough in the tank to get me over it. Turns out there was, but only just. Fayetteville was a big boost, as ever - the whole town turns out to cheer on the riders.

With twenty miles to go I was running on empty, living for the sight of a rest stop. Finally we made the last turn, and the Fayette County fairgrounds appeared. In the past this would be the end of the first day, but this year BHP's tent is in the overflow camping area in the Walmart parking lot, ingeniously dubbed "Camp Walmart", and it's three miles further. I'm really struggling now, but I dig deep and find enough to get me in.

I limp into the tent (right foot is killing me!) and receive a warm welcome from the Mules, who of course have been in for hours and are already several beers to the good. I find a Shiner beer in one of the coolers and slump into a chair next to Gregor, feeling about as bad as I ever have while riding. The lack of winter and spring training certainly took a toll. Somewhat refresshed IO struggle to my feet and go looking for my gear. I find my bag on a cot quite close to an exit - just what I wanted, perfect for the midnight loo visit - grab my sponge bag, towel and change of clothing and head off to the shower trucks.

My 2009 pledges ($11,000) put me in the top 300 fund-raiser club (Club 300) and entitled me to a few perks. The one I planned to make the most of was a dedicated shower truck, allowing me to skip the long wait at the other trucks. Sadly this wasn't offered at Camp Walmart, so I had two options - take the shuttle bus to the Fairgrounds and use the Club 300 truck there, or take the bus to La Grange High School and use their athletics facilities. The first bus I saw was heading to the High School, so I followed fate and jumped on. This turned out to be a poor choice, as the wait at the High School was pretty bad too. At least they supplied towels, which meant I didn't have to try and get mine dry before Sunday afternoon in Austin.

A short wait for a bus and I was back in Camp Walmart. I went over to the massage area and got in line. I don't really enjoy massages but it seemed like a good idea and Susan loves them. I chatted briefly with another rider while we watched a masseuse turn someone into a pretzel, then I was up. 20 minutes of agony followed - does this really help? Back with the Mules and time for the usual post-ride banter while we waited for the food to be ready. Fajitas, beans and rice and another Shiner to the good and I was feeling a lot better. At this point in the proceedings we're all starting to run out of steam and wondering how soon we can go to bed. But first, my duties as a host - David is in line for food so I join him for a chat. He had a great day in the saddle, riding with the Mules until the lunch break, when he left them still eating.

And so to bed, where I find I'm surrounded by Janis from work and her two adult children. I ask them if anyone snores and they both point to their Mum, who grins sheepishly. Fortunately I brought my ear-plugs. Into my sleeping bag and a quick call to Susan, yawning the whole time, before settling down.

I never sleep really well on the Saturday night - it's not very comfortable, I ache in every joint and I'm usually a bit wound up about the Sunday ride - but I get a few hours before movement in the camp wakes me up at about 4.30 am. The lights are still out so I try to be discrete as I gather up my riding gear and head over to the changing cube. Today I'm repping Club 300, with my brand-new top fundraiser jersey and socks. The lights come on (5.00am!) and I can start packing up and breaking down my cot, with help from Janis' son, who is in the USAF and spent three months in Iraq sleeping on one.

I dig out my bike maintenance bag and go looking for my steed, which had been left outside in the weather with all the others. It rained a bit overnight, so I dried her off, then cleaned the chain and applied lube. Richard comes by and I offer him the use of my rag and chain oil. He's suitably impressed by my preparedness and grateful for the chance to dress up his ride a bit.

Time for breakfast, and there's already quite a line for pancakes and breakfast tacos. It starts to rain so I pull on my rain jacket. Then it starts to rain really hard, and we cluster under the awning by the cooks. I snag a plateful of pancakes, a big gob of butter and a pint or two of maple syrup - wonderful. There's even half-way decent coffee from the nearby Exxon station. The rain stops, we load the truck and then line up for the start.

I could go to the front of the line (another Club 300 perk) but I hang back, chatting with Richard and Leslie. The hot topic, as ever on the Sunday, is which route to take to Bastrop. The traditional route through Buescher and Bastrop State parks is much more challenging than the express route, which is basically a straight shot up Highway 71. So far I've gone through the Parks every year and found it challenging and exhilarating, but it's much harder too, and after yesterday's slog I'm not really up for it. The heavy rain (now stopped) supplies a built-in excuse - the Park roads are likely to be wet and possibly dangerous.

So it's the lunch express route for me, out there in the traffic on 71 with several thousands of my closest friends. It's fast but tedious. I skip the first rest stop and run into Kevin and Tom at the second. We chat and Kevin points out that the lunch stop is about ten miles away. there's no way I'll be ready for food by then. Back on the road, Kevin and I keep pace for a while but he eventually hangs back a bit to allow Tom to catch him. Pretty soon we reach the junction where the two routes merge. I catch a rider just out of the park and ask him how it was - "Perfect" was the laconic response.

We descend into Bastrop, a very familiar route, crossing over the Colorado before turning into the high school. I'm really not ready for lunch and feeling pretty strong, so I blow past the stop. There's a decent head-wind and it starts to kick in pretty soon. The road is surprisingly quiet, given the size of the field. I'm passed by Gregor and some others in a paceline - if they're so fast, why were they behind me, anyway? Country roads, climbs and descents, and various species of road kill all roll past. I break at the next rest stop and eat a bit more than normal, to make up for missing lunch. I'm in Webberville, with about 30 miles to run. Normally I'd stop only once more, but I'm tiring and aching again, and hit both of the remaining break points.

I finally pass the Austin city limits sign (woo-hoo!) and now the right hand lane is coned off for us. The last ten miles includes four good climbs but I'm feeling no pain by now. Along one stretch I'm passed by a paceline lead by Jason, with Paddy and Phil in tow amongst others. I tag on to the line until the next climb, when I blow past (Jason is holding the pace down to keep the group together). Taylor calls out "Go Andy!" as I pass.

We can see the UT tower now and the end is definitely in sight. We run down through the University, turn on to MLK and we can see the barriers and crowds. One last left hander and there's the state capitol, framed under the finish sign. I try to smile and look happy but really I'm just glad to be done.

At the team tent I get a warm welcome and a cold beer. I grab my bag and head off to the shower trucks. Five minutes later I'm luxuriating in a strong flow of hot water - feels wonderful. Back at the tent and there's a hot lunch - very good lasagne, with steamed vegetables and salad. Definitely the best finish line lunch we've ever been served. Kevin and Tom roll up and we exchange celebratory fist bumps. David cruises in, too, looking as though he'd just had a pleasant jaunt around his neighbourhood. He'd decided to go easy, but also went through the park, which he enjoyed.

Time to head out. I get one of the last seats on a bus and doze my way back to Houston, where Susan is waiting to pick me up from the Omni. I arrive home to a hero's welcome, some decent Pinot Noir and a fabulous roast pork dinner. I could get used to this -

A Perfect Storm

2010-04-12T19:02:00.000-07:00

Off to Zube on Sunday morning for my last ride before the event. I parked up with no sign of any Mules and wondered if I'd be a lone wolf again. I walked up to the rest room and spotted Jason's car on the far side of the lot. Just then Paddy rolled up to join him, and I saddled up and rode over. Gregor drove in, followed by Mike and Kenny, and I realised with a sinking heart that I would be riding with four of the strongest Mules in the stable - a Perfect Storm.

We set out at a cracking pace and I was soon wondering how long I would be able to stay with the group. I glued myself to Jason's rear tire and hung on for dear life. After a few miles I was feeling reasonably comfortable - perhaps I could hang with this crowd after all. I opted out of the sprints, though.

As we got up to the site of Sean's dog encounter, I found myself at number 2 wheel behind Kenny. Sure enough, a dog appeared and started to give chase, but he was just a puppy and clearly only looking for a runaround. Kenny and I took off and left him behind at the property line. Paddy decided that this was the last straw, and he dismounted and yelled at the mutt. Its owner appeared and Paddy gave him the finger! Not a good idea out in the Boonies where there are more guns than people.

Paddy was flagging a bit, so Jason and I hung back with him while the other three legged it for the gas station. I was a little in front of the other two as we approached the turn. I was wool-gathering or bird-watching or something, because Jason came up behind me very quietly, then yelled "Right turn!' in a Dame Edna falsetto in my ear. I nearly dumped the bike in surprise -rotten Kiwi bugger.

At the Exxon we hook up with Adam and Heather and decide to ride back as a group. I was expecting to return on the back road, but we headed for Business 290 instead. A stiffish head-wind greeted us and we settled into a tight peloton. It's really a lot of fun riding in a close group like that, or at least it was until I blew my back tire (again?). We only had a few miles to run, so I waved the others on. Paddy, bless him, opted to stay with me. I changed out the tube and inflated with a CO2 cartridge, but didn't do a good job because it lost pressure pretty fast. I pumped it up and struggled on, but it was pretty soft when we turned on to Roberts, with half a mile to run. I made it back but I'll need to do a better job on my field tire changes on the way to Austin.

90-mile long weekend

2010-04-04T16:05:00.000-07:00

Heading into a four-day weekend (Easter and a 9/80 Friday), I wanted to claw back some saddle time, so I lined up two rides - Zube with the Mules on Good Friday, and the long Sealy ride on Easter Sunday.

The pre-ride banter this morning included a detailed discussion of how to handle the dogs that caused some problems on a previous run. Paddy's idea was to dismount and put the boot in. I wondered why we wouldn't just out-sprint them as always? Turns out that during the ride in question, Sean t-boned one of the mutts and went over the handlebars! I found out later that he's displaying classic signs of concussion, and has withdrawn from the big event.

We head out and pretty soon work out that Jason is in top form while Paddy and I are struggling. The ride is pretty uneventful as far as Field Store road, where I spot what looks like a dog running flat-out across an open field, heading directly for us. I'm about to sound the alarm when he breaks across the road without even looking at us and takes off on the other side. I'm pretty sure it was a coyote, and we wonder if he was chasing the Road-Runner. He was certainly going hell-for-leather.

On we go, with Jason pulling all the way. We get to the site of Sean's dog encounter and proceed with caution. The other two are happy to let me take the lead through this section, but there are no dogs in sight. A little while later I hear a yapping in the distance which gets louder. It turns out to be a lap rat of some sort, in the passenger seat of a pick-up with its head out of the window.

We make the turn and head home, with a head/cross-wind all the way. Jason is the hero of the hour again, happily punching us into the wind. Just past Prairie View A&M I get a flat in my rear tire and we pull over for repairs. I use a CO2 bottle to re-inflate (never used one before) and the tire feels over-inflated, but it gets me home.

Easter Sunday rolls around and I'm a lone wolf - Paddy opted for Zube. I was surprised to see wet pavements when I went out for the papers, and it was drizzling all the way out to Sealy. I saddled up and headed out, very grateful for a last-minute look at the map. There's a turn near Sealy that I've missed in the past and it's been a while.

It stayed misty and gloomy all the way round but never actually rained. The roads were very quiet and apparently every dog in the county had opted for a lie-in or was at the Holy Services, because I went unmolested. The road surface on a couple of sections seems to have deteriorated since my last visit and I spent a lot of time swerving around potholes. The wind was quite fresh and out of the South, so I was kiting along pretty happily until Cat Spring and the turn-around. Wildflowers galore provided colourful scenery just about everywhere.

After Cat Spring the routes is very hilly for about 8 miles, and the wind was not helping. I was in my lowest gear on a couple of the climbs but made it through OK. I was glad to make the turn onto route 36, even though I knew that the last seven miles would be uncomfortable due to wind and a crap road surface. Nothing to do but gut it out. Once in Sealy, the road improves dramatically and the relief was remarkable - like taking off tight shoes, as a friend puts it. Back at the car, I realize that the ride has taken quite a toll - I'm exhausted and feel like crap as I run through my post-ride stretches. That will be my last tough ride before the event, I think.

Personal Best* (Canine-Assisted)

2010-03-28T07:02:00.000-07:00

I had big plans to catch up on training miles this weekend but life (and airline inefficiency) got in the way, so I had to settle for a fast forty along Terry Hershey at the crack of dawn on Saturday.

James was due to land at 11.15, so I started at 6.30, well before sunrise, and opted to ride down Memorial rather than risk the poorly-illuminated trail. Not much traffic at that hour, which was just as well because I had to swerve around pot-holes pretty frequently. I picked up the trail at the Dam and wound it up, feeling pretty good.

About three miles along I saw a pedestrian and was getting ready to call out to him before passing when he turned and saw me. He raised both arms and I found out why - his small, angry and very determined dog appeared out of nowhere, trailing its leash and barking furiously. Seriously? In the middle of the trail? Dog attacks are common enough out there in Deliverance country, but this was a bit much. Anyway, nothing to do but sprint and hopefully leave the mutt behind. It was definitely game and I had to really air it out, setting a Personal Best sprint time in the process (but as it was canine-assisted there's an asterisk in the record book).

I finally dropped mini-Cujo and settled back into a more suitable pace. I hope the dog-walker had the sense to get the beast back under control - there were plenty of other riders heading his way. The rest of the ride passed without incident. It was a perfect day, the trail was pretty quiet and I kept my pace up, trying to focus on form (spin those pedals, relax the shoulders, sit towards the back of the saddle, keep the feet flat), which was great - but it's flat and boring, and I'd planned a more interesting ride. Maybe next week.

Watch the birdie

2010-03-14T15:49:00.000-07:00

Off to Zube for a lone wolf ride (Paddy and Jason are somewhere in the Far East, no idea what the other Mules are doing). One advantage of riding solo is you can start whenever you like, so I didn't set my alarm and consequently rolled out of bed at about 6.30.

On the drive out I tuned in to KPFT, our Pacifica station. I normally listen to KUHF, the NPR affiliate, in the mornings, but it's all religious music before 8.00 on Sunday, and that doesn't really set the tone. KPFT is entertainingly amateurish and this morning they had forgotten that the clocks went forward so they were an hour behind on their announcements.

Once at Zube I gear up and hit the road. I'm planning to ride the new Hempstead loop, which doesn't go past any gas stations, so I'm packing a power bar and an extra water bottle. I filled both bottles at the drinking fountain in Zube, but subsequently discover that the water has an unpleasant tang to it.

Off we go, wearing my tights and arm warmers but no jacket. It's 52 degrees when I start and a beautiful morning. The ride is pretty uneventful - the roads are quiet, my legs feel ok, my chest is a little tight but not too bad - and since I'm not fighting to keep up with Paddy and Co. I can watch the scenery and look for birds.

It turns out there is a lot to look at. I see a red-winged blackbird within the first few miles, and a bit later I see a flock of large, yellow-breasted birds that I think are kingbirds. A small hawk swoops along a plowed field then perches on the fence as I go by. Later on a scissor-tailed flycatcher goes right over my head, a gorgeous sight.

The scenery is also prettier than I realised. Spring is in full flood now and everything is very green and lush. There's one stretch of road in particular that I had never paid attention to before, mainly because it was always shrouded in fog. Today it's very pretty, reminding me of Wiltshire (my childhood home) a little.

I stop to answer un besoin naturel and eat some of my power bar. A very small puppy appears out of a ruined barn. She's carrying her right front paw and looks very pathetic. I throw her some of the power bar and she loves it. Time to move on and of course the mutt follows me to the road. I tell her to go home and take off without looking back. Hopefully she belongs to the farmer and he's going to take her to the Vet tomorrow.

I'm soon at the junction with the road that runs into Hempstead. The new route takes a left here, missing out the Exxon. A short leg and then I turn off to the right on a small country road with a fair bit of topography. I'm feeling pretty good on the climbs, which aren't too strenuous to be honest. The route turns to go past Prairie View A&M and then we're back in the country. Somewhere along here a largish, reddish hawk is keeping pace with me on the right. He cuts over to the left and we ride along together a bit more. I don't get a good enough view of him to be able to identify him later but he made a good riding companion. Oddly enough, he doesn't scare off any of the numerous small birds flying around and roosting on the power lines.

I turn south, go under the freeway and soon pick up the boring route back to Zube. A tail wind helps and I make it back feeling pretty good. Maybe I'll make it to Austin after all.

Memory Lane

2010-03-07T15:40:00.000-08:00

When I was fourteen, my father (an army officer) was posted from Fulwood Barracks outside Preston to Bulford Camp in Wiltshire, so off we went. Bulford Camp was one of the largest army bases in the country and my parents had been posted there before, but this was the first time for me and my numerous siblings. I remember that I wasn't very happy at all at Balshaw's Grammar School in Leyland, so I was probably very glad to move.

Unfortunately, the only option for a grammar school boy was Bishop Wordsworth's School in Salisbury, 20 miles away. This meant a 40 minute bus ride every morning and afternoon, with a decent walk at each end, but I made friends very quickly at school (it helped to be taken under the wing of Phil Davies, another Bulford camp brat - Phil, where are you now, mate?). I must have got used to the bus trips, too, I hardly remember them at all now. I also started to show some academic prowess. I wonder now if I did so well at Bishop's because it was a single-sex school, unlike Balshaw's which was mixed. I also made friends on the Camp and wish I was still in touch with them.

When I was sixteen (1976) my Dad retired from the army and bought a house on the outskirts of Salisbury. This meant that I could walk or ride my bike to school very easily, but was a long way from my Bulford Camp friends. I had already taken to relatively long bike rides through the gorgeous countryside around Salisbury and thought I could manage a ride back to Bulford.

There were two routes - the main road, via The High Post Hotel, or the back road through the Woodford Valley, wonderful scenery but a bit longer. I think I tried both (I remember coming back on the main road with my dynamo-powered front light blazing on the descent from the High Post), but the Woodford run sticks in my memory. I would love to ride it again with Paddy's helmet camera, but here are some Google'd images to whet your appetite.

This is the Wheatsheaf pub in Lower Woodford (the biggest villages in the valley are Lower, Middle and Upper Woodford). Pretty good food and beer to be had here. There used to be a holiday cottage across the road that Susan and I rented a few times.

This is the River Avon (no, not that one - there are many Avons in the UK) at Middle Woodford. The river is right by the road here.

This picture-postcard shot is Lake House, in the village of Lake. You can't see this view from the road, sadly. My main memory of this stretch of the ride is a sharp left turn at the bottom of a hill - brakes on all the way down. Lake House is now owned by Sting.

(Spring) Breaking Away

2010-02-28T15:55:00.000-08:00

Breaking Away is a coming-of-age movie about cycling. It includes a very young Dennis Quaid as part of an Indiana cycling team, the Cutters. It's shown every year at the LaGrange overnight stop on the MS150, but most riders (including me) are too tired to stay up and watch. It's a nice intro into this post about the Sun and Ski Sports Spring Breakaway ride, which was run this morning.

Nearly perfect weather (just a bit chilly) when I found Paddy at the start. We were pretty soon joined by Kenny, Jason, Mike, Dave and Gregor. It was quickly noted that Mike and Jason had shaved their legs, pro-style, so of course this was a golden opportunity for a bit of banter and a direct comparison of their shaving prowess.

On to the start and we run into Doug and Richard from work. The main group of Mules gets going but I'm stopped by a marshal and watch them disappear down the road. It's probably just as well, since I'm out of shape and still not 100% healthy. I eventually get going and ride with Richard and Doug for a while. The pace gets a bit hot for me though, so I don't try too hard to keep up on a corner and they quickly drop me.

These are very familiar roads all the way to Fulshear, from all the Bike Barn runs. The route to Simonton isn't quite so familiar but I've definitely been down here before. Pretty flat terrain and a modest tail wind make for comfortable riding. Once in Simonton the routes separate, 55 miles to the left, 37 to the right. I planned to ride the 37 but missed the turn. I quickly realized my mistake and for once had the sense to turn around and get back on my route. Not very long ago I would have just stuck with the 55 and probably hurt myself in the process.

Rolling north now with much less bike traffic. I spot a hawk on top of a telegraph pole and decide it was probably a bald eagle - if so, the first I've seen. Very impressive bird with a distinctive white head. We pass the Brookwood community, cross over I-10 and turn right for the run back along US90. I've been down here before, too - a boring, straight road with a fairly rough surface and nothing to block the wind. First, though, time for a rest stop.

I park my bike, fill up my water bottle and look for fruit - sadly only cookies were to be had. Back at the bike I decide to strip down a bit, so off comes the Mules cap and the jacket (called an anorak by my so-called friends at the start). I do my good deed for the day by showing another rider how to park your bike on a curb using the pedal. Back on the road for the slog down 90. The wind picks up and it's a bit of a grind. I'm actually feeling pretty good and keep my pace up well.

Into Katy and then it's a quick run back to the start. A lady wearing a Google shirt passes me without calling out, a flagrant breach of rider etiquette. I want to tell her to Google "manners while cycling" but chicken out. I get to the car, to find that the Mules are still on the course (they did the 55 miles), so I load up and head home. It's now a beautiful morning and I sit back and relax in the garden with the Times. Life is good.

Fog on the Tyne

2010-02-15T17:30:00.000-08:00

"Fog on the Tyne" was a hit for 70's English folk-rock band Lindisfarne. Its catchy little theme was running through my head for most of my Sunday morning outing with the Mules, no doubt because we spent most of the ride in thick fog. I started out from home on a very pretty, if chilly morning, but once I got onto 290 heading west the fog descended and made for some uncomfortable freeway driving.

We're doing 0730 starts at present and I arrived at Zube just after Paddy, who made it slightly before the bloke who unlocks the park gates. Once parked up we caught up a little, not having ridden together for some time. He went on one of the MS-150 recommended rides yesterday, so was looking for a gentle run today, which pleased me no end, as I was just coming back from two weeks out of the saddle. In due course Kenny, Mike and Gregor arrived, and after the usual banter we headed out. I'd managed to forget my jacket, but Paddy (bless his cotton socks) had brought a spare.

I was reasonably comfortable in the early going but told myself very firmly that this was a day for drafting, not pulling, and tried to ride within myself for once. The guys were taking it easy too, but even so I struggled on a few sections, mainly when there was a climb. The cardio-vascular fitness needed to attack the climbs is what you lose first, unfortunately.

About twenty miles in, with the fog as thick as ever, we stopped for "un besoin naturel" and I took the opportunity to irrigate a very large placard promoting some red-neck wing-nut Republican candidate for county dog-catcher (or something similar). It turned out that they had changed the route, so now we didn't stop at the Exxon. I was a little taken aback as I always appreciate the break and usually stock up on water and carbs. Anyway, "Onward thru the fog" as the Oat Willie bumper sticker says (apparently, means nothing to me).

The changed route took us along a very pretty country road which wound its way into Prairie View. It's a definite improvement over the old run back (a straight slog along Business 290) but also had a lot more topography. Once again I was flagging a bit on the climbs. By now the fog had lifted and we had a beautiful morning. Riding past some homes, a Jack Russell terrier (or some other breed of rat dog) decided to take a look at us, and walked right in front of me. I swerved and braked to avoid cutting it in half and very nearly dumped Paddy who was drafting off me. These damn dogs will get you one way or another.

Back in lovely Waller, and we picked up the familiar route back to Zube. Gregor told me to take second wheel for the run-in so that we could keep together, and I velcroed myself to Kenny's wheel as we rolled along at 19-20 mph. With only a few miles to go, Kenny began to ramp up the pace. I hung in there for a while but eventually dropped off the back and made my leisurely way back to the start. A bit more chat with the boys and then I headed back to pass the rest of Valentine's Day with my lovely and very understanding spouse.

Pining

2010-02-06T09:37:00.000-08:00

Unlike the Norwegian Blue parrot, I'm actually pining rather than passed-on - pining for the byways of south-east Texas, that is. Last weekend's chilly outing unfortunately aggravated a cold, and as usually happens with me, it turned into mild bronchitis. I coughed all the way into work on Monday and Tuesday morning but had to bail out by lunchtime, and didn't make it in for the rest of the week. And of course in a week when the rest of the country is gripped in a winter storm, the weather down here is perfect for riding. I'll take it easy for the next few days but aim for a solid ride at the weekend.

Frozen in Fayetteville

2010-01-31T14:58:00.000-08:00

Off to Fayetteville this morning for the Club 300 ride (courthouse shown to the right). Pretty chilly when I set out from Houston, but the forecast said it would warm up to the 40s or even 50s during the ride. Fayetteville is about 90 minutes drive, so I assumed I'd see a gradual increase in temperature as I drove. But no - if anything, it got colder, and my car was showing 34 degrees as I parked in the town square.

I had invited David, Susan's sister-in-law's brother (got it?) to be my guest for the ride and we quickly hooked up. David lives outside Austin and is doing the MS150 with the BHP team. He was well prepared for the cold with a variety of fleecy garments and a balaclava. As we saddled up he mentioned that he's already completed two 200km rides this year. He's clearly much better prepared than me, not just in the cycling apparel department.

It was definitely a morning for all the gear. I'd been given a pair of knitted arm warmers as swag when I registered and wasted no time in getting them on. I had also brought along my rubber booties, purchased by Susan before the aborted first day of the 2009 ride (followers of this blog will no doubt remember the footwear in question). I'd never actually used them but how hard can it be, right? They slide over your shoes and zip up at the back, and there are holes in the bottom for your cleat and heel. I picked one up and noted the large letter "L" printed inside - clearly for the left foot, so on it went. The other was obviously the right, but it had an "L" on it too! Bugger, had I been given two lefts? And would it matter anyway? Confusion reigned for a second or two until I realized that the "L" actually meant "Large". Hoping no-one had seen this episode, I pulled the second bootie over my shoe and rolled off to the start.

Quite a small group for the ride this year. One hero was actually wearing cycling shorts without tights, prompting someone to ask him where in North Dakota he came from. There were two routes, both loops - one was 17 miles, the other 28. Everyone rode the 17 mile first and you could choose your poison after that. We set off, with David's bike computer showing 33 degrees. The route took us down some pretty crappy roads, with gravel flying off everyone's tires, but we eventually got onto asphalt and enjoyed some pretty good scenery, at least for Central Texas. A few climbs to deal with but I was doing OK, as was David who was clearly feeling very comfortable. After about ten miles we got separated when my chain jammed up and I had to stop for repairs. Back in Fayetteville, David was tucking into a barbecue sandwich as I arrived. I settled for a bag of cookies and a water bottle top-up and suggested we push ahead on the longer route.
I was starting to flag a bit, due primarily to lack of training, but tried to keep the pace up. A few of the climbs had me in my granny gear and fighting for breath, but I got to the top. We passed another group who were taking a pit stop, but it wasn't long before they caught us. David rode ahead with them for a while, but they turned back for a straggler (who was still ahead of me!) and David came back too. We rode the rest of the way together, the temperature having climbed to a balmy 34 degrees, and headed straight into the shed to get warm and sample some outstanding barbecue from Orsak's Cafe (highly recommended!)

With a belly-full of brisket and all the fixin's, I thanked David for his patience and set out for home. 11 weeks to go to the big ride -

beggars can't be choosers

2010-01-22T16:05:00.000-08:00

Just finished sending out begging e-mails to all my friends. No, I haven't blown the family savings on a new bike, I'm kicking off my fund-raising for the MS150, and everyone has been incredibly generous in the past. If you're reading this and considering a donation, please think about all the people with MS in Texas that get help from the society, and dig deep. Here's my virtual begging bowl -
And here is my online donation page. Thanks!

2010-01-03T15:08:00.000-08:00

Naughty or Nice in the Noughties

Here's the Brickell's 2010 New Year's Day quiz about the last decade. See how much you can remember!

Sports

Nice: who was the winning pitcher when the Astros beat the Cardinals 5-1 to win the 2005 National League Championship series?

1. Roger Clemens
2. Roy Oswalt
3. Chad Qualls
4. Andy Pettitte

Naughty: who was the losing pitcher in the last game of the White Sox four game sweep that followed?

1. Brad Lidge
2. Wandy Rodriguez
3. Ezequiel Astacio
4. Brandon Backe

Nice: what was the score when the Texans beat the Cowboys in their first regular season game in Reliant Stadium in September 2002?

1. 14-3
2. 10-0
3. 17-14
4. 19-10

Naughty: how many regular season games did they win that year ?

1. 4
2. 5
3. 3
4. 2

Entertainment

Naughty: match these one-hit wonders from the Noughties with their song

1. Inside your heaven
2. Bad day
3. Lollipop
4. Butterfly

1. Daniel Powter
2. Bo Bice
3. Static Major
4. Crazy Town

Nice: match these Oscar-winning movies with the year they won:

1. Chicago
2. No Country for Old Men
3. A Beautiful Mind
4. American Beauty

1. 2000
2. 2002
3. 2003
4. 2008

Politics

Nice: who put "about 18 million cracks" in the glass ceiling?

1. Michelle Bachman
2. Hillary Clinton
3. Sarah Palin
4. Nancy Pelosi

Naughty: who, according to Politifact.com, told the "Lie of the Year" in 2009?

1. Michelle Bachman
2. Hillary Clinton
3. Sarah Palin
4. Nancy Pelosi

Nice: which of these "statements" are genuine Bushisms?

1. "There's an old saying in Tennessee -- I know it's in Texas, probably in Tennessee -- that says, fool me once, shame on --shame on you. Fool me -- you can't get fooled again."
2. "You teach a child to read, and he or her will be able to pass a literacy test."
3. “If the King’s English was good enough for Jesus Christ, it’s good enough for the children of Texas"
4. "I know the human being and fish can coexist peacefully."

Naughty: which of the following are accepted modifiers of the term chad?

1. Hanging
2. Swinging
3. Dimpled
4. Tri-

Science and Technology

Naughty: How did a baguette break the LHC, the world's largest machine?

1. A bird dropped a piece of it into the power supply
2. An engineer chose the wrong place to eat his lunch
3. Re-starting the machine disturbed the earth around a forgotten French resistance food store, which then needed to be examined by archeologists

Nice: Around the time of that bread-related incident, interest resurfaced in a paper by theoretical physicists Holger Bech Nielsen and Masao Ninomiya suggesting what?

1. Creating the hypothetical Higgs boson particle, the aim of the LHC, will both explain how all particles get mass and attract carbs
2. The sheer size of the LHC - which includes a 16.8 mile circuit - means even the very small statistical probability of fault becomes significant
3. All such machines will be sabotaged from the future

Naughty: what was hit at 5,600 mph during the LCROSS experiment?

1. the Sun
2. the Moon
3. North Korea
4. Antarctica

History

Nice: Three Somali pirates were shot dead in the rescue of US captain Richard Phillips, a use of force authorised by Barack Obama. This made him the first US president to kill pirates since who?

1. Washington
2. Van Buren
3. Madison
4. Theodore Roosevelt

Geography

Naughty: What became Greenland's official language in June when it took control of its own natural resources, judicial affairs and law enforcement from Denmark?

1. Danish
2. Greenlandic
3. Icelandic
4. Inuit

Nice: How else did Greenland mark home rule?

1. Announce a referendum on changing its name to something more realistic
2. Distributing two tonnes of whale meat among the people
3. Register a bid with the International Olympic Committee for Nuuk to host the 2020 Games

Duck!

2009-12-13T15:28:00.000-08:00

Off to Zube again this morning, a bit warmer than last weekend but pretty thick fog on the way out. I park up, unload, pump up my tires, put on my gear, stretch - where the hell is everyone? It's 7.30 and I'm all alone. I head out rather grumpily and then remember that yesterday was the company Xmas party (Susan and I didn't go, it's usually a dud). Paddy, Jason, Gregor and the rest are all probably sleeping off their hangovers.

One advantage of being a lone wolf is that you can pick my route and set your own pace. Obvious disadvantages include being much less visible in the fog, and there's no-one to drag you along when you get tired. Anyhoo, I opted for the route that goes north on Hegar road, then follows the regular route, for a total of about 43 miles. I felt a bit exposed in the fog but the few vehicles that passed were very considerate.

Turning off Kickapoo and onto Castle, I passed four Muscovy ducks who were splashing about in the ditch. I spooked them and they decided to run for it. Unfortunately ducks aren't the best fliers and I was keeping pace with them quite well. It occurred to me that if they veered across the road in front of me I'd be looking at a rare case of a duck strike - probably less painful than the more common deer strike. They managed to get enough speed and elevation to leave me behind but we were quite cosy for a while. Apparently any duck with this much white is almost certainly domesticated, which is probably why I couldn't find this dude in my bird book.

My encounter with the waterfowl was probably the most exciting part of the ride. I got a tail-wind for the run in down Business 290 and got back to my car pretty comfortably. As I pulled out of the lot I imagined Paddy rolling over in bed for another hour's doze - he hasn't heard the last of this.

Foggy Bottom Boys

2009-11-25T12:56:00.000-08:00

Off to Zube on a beautiful Sunday morning, one of those Fall mornings when you're not sure how much to rug up. Standing around in the parking lot I felt pretty comfortable in cycling shorts and a jersey, but some of the other riders had opted for tights and jackets. Paddy looked particularly fetching in a sleeveless jersey and arm warmers. You might almost have fancied he was wearing long evening gloves, on his way to the Opera.

We were definitely an international group, with two Brits, one Australian, two Hispanics, an Anglo-American (Paddy claims to be more American than most real Americans) and an Australian-Scot (Gregor, looking pretty pleased about Scotland's recent rugby win over Australia).

Off we went, with me questioning the wisdom of my wardrobe selection every time we rode through shade. I warmed up soon enough, until we ran into some pretty thick fog, and stayed in it for a good five miles. Not only did the temperature drop by several degrees, we were also really nervous about traffic and for once observed good lane discipline.

We broke out of the fog just at the turn-off for the gas station where we take a break, and stayed in the sunshine for the rest of the run. With about ten miles to go Alex took the lead and set a cracking pace. I was number two man in the line and velcroed myself to his rear wheel, knowing that if I lost touch I'd never get back on again at that speed. Alex pulled us for a good three miles before peeling off. Soon after that, Gregor flatted and we pulled over to stand around and watch him change out the tube. Mike pointed out that changing a tube was a bit like sex - it's hard to do it well when there are a lot of people watching.

We got rolling again with only a few miles to run. The pace cranked up once more and I decided to let the speedsters have their heads. Gregor was hanging back, too, because he wasn't sure his tube was up to pressure and didn't want to corner too hard for fear of rolling the tire off the wheel. Back at Zube for some photos like this one. Paddy is actually trying to show off his Mules tattoo, not just his impressive biceps.

Mules and Wannabes

2009-11-15T17:42:00.000-08:00

A great start to the training season this morning, with a 45 mile run out of Zube in a big group. Paddy was there of course, with Gregor, Brooke and Alex from work, and a few others too. Pretty good conditions when we started and it was fun to meet and chat with new riders in the early going. A bit further on the group fragmented as some of the chaps stopped for what is called "un besoin naturel" in French cycling. Gregor, Brooke, Scott and I kept going at a pretty good clip but were eventually reeled in. The chasing group proceeded to kick up the pace and I found myself working very hard to stay on the lead rider's wheel. Fortunately we reached the Exxon pretty quickly. A good break and the usual exchange of war stories and examinations of each other's bikes (always looks like two dogs sniffing each other) and then we were off, with a head wind to fight. I was feeling my oats a bit and decided to challenge the group on one of the climbs. I blew past Paddy with a big smirk but eased up too soon and lost the King of the Mountains points to Gregor. The group got fragmented again but this time we decided to re-form and rode in together. One last sprint in the final mile left me gasping as the others vanished into the distance but all in all it was a great day.

Back home to a great lunch prepared by my wonderful spouse, a quick nap and then off to IAH to collect James, who's in town for a few days. Not too long before we have a house-full again -

On St.Crispin's Day

2009-10-25T08:36:00.001-07:00

"We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;

For he to-day that sheds his blood with me

Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,

This day shall gentle his condition:

And gentlemen in England now a-bed

Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,

And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks

That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day."

and they're off -

2009-10-18T15:12:00.000-07:00

Registration for the 2010 MS150 opened last week for top fundraisers, so here we go again, registered up with 6 months to raise money, lose weight and train. To cap it all, this year I will also be eligible for the USPGA Senior Tour and AARP membership (American readers can help any Brits puzzled by these last benefits).

Thanks to the generosity of my supporters (and my employer matching my fund-raising), I made it into Club 300, the 300 highest fund-raisers from 2009. I get a special yellow rider's bib with my position in the Club as my rider number, shorter shower lines in LaGrange and Austin, and a chance to go to the head of the line for the Sunday morning start.

Yesterday was my first ride of the season and I rode with the Katy Bike Barn group on their Pool Hill route . 60 degrees when we started and not a cloud in the sky, but a nasty wind out of the north made things a bit challenging. Great fun, though, and a very social group of riders. Best of all, the rides start at 8.00am, which means I can to leave the house at 7.30am. Much as I love riding with the Mules, getting out to Zube for a 7.00am start means leaving no later than 6.30 am, and I do enjoy the extra hour in bed.

Far from the Madding Crowd

2009-09-06T13:47:00.001-07:00

Back in the (road-bike) saddle again this morning. It's pretty mild first thing these days and today was no exception. I set out in my Mules shirt for a cruise down Terry Hershey, hoping that everyone else in West Houston had left town for the long weekend. Sadly it was not to be - the trail was heaving from end to end. It was very pleasant but a bit frustrating, so I decided to ride the Four Park loop (Terry Hershey, George Bush, Cullen and Bear Creek) instead.

This turned out to be a pretty good plan. Once I left George Bush and struck north on Fry road I had the cycling paths more-or-less to myself. With cool temperatures, sunlight dappled by shade trees and birds singing, it almost felt like Autumn. Almost...

Back home, and I get a phone call from Paddy - "It's cooling off, time to ride with the Mules again". He's right, I need to get out to Zube and start taking it a bit more seriously. Not next week though, as Paddy and Dave are both travelling, but I might head out there anyway to remind myself of the routes. And they're never crowded -

I've had better days in the saddle

2009-08-19T18:37:00.000-07:00

Doug recommended a group ride that starts at the Bike Barn shop in Katy, so on Sunday morning I headed out and met him there in time for an 8.00 am start.

I was surprised at the number of riders who showed up. We set out in groups by average speed - the 23+ mph head-bangers first, then the 18-20 mph people, and the rest behind. I joined the middle group, even though 18-20 mph is a pretty hot pace for me. Doug pointed out that it was easier to drop back and join a slower group than it was to try to catch a faster one, and that made sense.

It was already warm when we started. The first few miles were along a busy road with traffic lights, and the groups began to merge at the red lights. I settled in to a sensible pace that kept me just behind Doug's group and was felling pretty good. I rode by a gentleman wearing a shirt with the Pink Floyd "Atom Heart Mother" image on the back (see previous posts!) and we began chatting after I complimented him on it.

Pretty soon we were in familiar territory for me - FM 1093 heading west towards Fulshear. The group stopped en masse at a Shell station in town and I chatted with Doug and Bryan another BHP hand and a pretty serious rider too. I kept an eye on my fellow Pink Floyd fan and a young woman who had been keeping pace with us and we set out together on the next leg.

High temperatures and humidity and a lack of recent saddle time started to take their toll a bit but I pushed ahead anyway, pulling the other two for long stretches. We began to feel the wind, too, which didn't help. Back into Fulshear and on 1093 for the run home - but then the riders ahead forked off on Bois D'Arc (one of my training routes) and I foolishly followed, knowing that this would add 10 miles to a 47 mile loop.

By now we had dropped the Pick Floyd fan but picked up another rider and the three of us pushed ahead. I was starting to feel the miles now. A quick break at a busy junction, then on to the pull north back to 1093. The girl obviously enjoyed the break, as she took off at a pretty hot pace. I pulled her in and took the lead along this very familiar section. Back at 1093 and I was really in trouble - tired, dehydrated and starting to bonk. I had picked up an energy bar at the Shell station so I told the others to go ahead without me while I fuelled up. This was probably a big mistake, as I had no-one to push me and didn't know the route.

On my own now, and not feeling the energy bar at all, I struggled north. With no riders in sight I had to rely on memory for the route - and I got it wrong, blowing right by a turn. Hurting everywhere, I pushed ahead at a pathetically slow pace and ran into Pin Oak, a north/south road that runs up to the freeway. I had no idea which way to turn, but opted to head for the freeway, thinking that I might ride down the access road. I was very happy to run into Highland Knolls, which runs due east back to Bike Barn. Just a few miles to go but the tank was absolutely empty. I wanted to stop every 100 yards, but pushed myself hard and was rewarded with the sight of Grand Parkway and a CVS store. I pulled over and went in to cool off and pick up supplies. My wonderful new high-tech bike was left outside, at the mercy of any casual thief - but I didn't care, I needed a break and having the bike stolen would give me a great excuse to call Susan and ask for a ride.

12 oz of orange Gatorade later, I remounted and headed out. Pretty quickly I crossed the road that I should have been on, and a couple of riders from the group passed me. I slotted in behind them for the last mile. Back at the car, I hardly had the strength to take off my shoes and load up the bike.

Home and bed for a couple of hours. On top of fatigue, dehydration and bonking, I probably had a little heat stroke too - I've had better days.

Country style part deux

2009-08-06T08:49:00.001-07:00

We're back in Houston (aka Satan's Sauna) now, but I did manage to get a couple more rides in before we left Illinois, both times on the back road to Seneca. I looked a bit more like a biker, with a helmet and gloves and BHP's 2008 team uniform. Both mornings were just about perfect - low 70's, no wind, clear skies and wonderful views. Now I have to trade low 70's for high 90's, steel for carbon, and quiet, pretty country roads for a packed Terry Hershey Park. But it's good to be home.

Country Style part 1

2009-07-27T09:05:00.001-07:00

We're on vacation at Susan's parents' house in rural Illinois, enjoying the cooler weather. This morning I went with Bill (Susan's Dad), and James (my eldest) to pick up Susan's high-school ten-speed from the barn where it was stored for the winter. There wasn't quite enough room for the bike in the back of Bill's SUV so I opted to ride the four miles back to the house. Time for some bike maintenance, country style - I wiped the cobwebs off the saddle, then we used a compressor to air up the tires (very carefully!). The chain looked a bit dry, so Bill opened a can of two-stroke oil (!) and I lubed her up. Off down the road, then, for some real Country Style riding - no helmet, no Lycra, no gel gloves, no clip-less shoes and no traffic, on a 50 lb bike (well, it felt like it) with find 'em or grind 'em shifters and suicide levers. It was a lot of fun until I came to the climb up to the house, which felt like Ventoux on a particularly bad day. I'm planning a couple of short-ish rides along the I&M Canal tow path while we're here - watch this space for more bucolic biking updates.

amateur hour

2009-07-04T13:33:00.000-07:00

Apparently there was a scottish gentleman, well known for his fondness for a dram or three, who always refused to go out on New Year's Eve (Hogmanay if you're scottish or pretentious). When asked why, he replied "Amateur hour!" That's how I felt this morning. I wanted to ride Terry Hershey and aimed for an early start to beat the (absolutely ferocious) heat. Unfortunately it appeared that every other cyclist in West Houston had the same idea because the trail was packed, even the sections along the dam and through George Bush park that are usually deserted. It was a good ride anyway, with just enough of a tail wind coming back to make it fun. Back in Terry Hershey, and I was forced off the path and onto the dirt by a lady who decided to stop her bike and turn around right in front of me. I didn't come off but a few minutes later I realised my back tire was going down and sure enough I had a flat. I had enough kit to make the necessary repair but took it slowly for the rest of the trip.

Back home in time to catch the last third of the Monaco time trial that opened the Tour this year. Very exciting stuff, with the racers whipping through a winding Monaco track that followed some of the roads used in the Grand Prix. I'm thinking Contador this year -

Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail, Peter and Andy

2009-06-14T08:19:00.000-07:00

Two options for a bike ride today - drive 40 miles to Alvin and spend the morning thrashing around Brazoria County trying to keep up with Paddy and the Mules, or a leisurely run through Terry Hershey, smelling the roses and watching the bunnies. After last week it was a no-brainer, but I feel a little guilty about it. Never hurts to have another rider in the Peloton.

So off to Terry Hershey it was, then. Nice and cool at first, with very little foot traffic but lots of rabbits. Not much wind, either, so a very pleasant run all in all, although it was getting warm on the way back and the trail was quite busy.

so long, and thanks for all the rides

2009-06-12T07:10:00.000-07:00

The Mules will be riding 100 miles around Brazoria County tomorrow (Tour de Braz) but they'll have to do it without me. I learned (rather painfully!) last week that Paddy, Sean and Kenny are now too strong for me, so I've decided to hang up my harness and mule shoes until cooler weather arrives (probably November, down here in Satan's sauna).

I joined Paddy, Sean and Kenny last weekend for the usual thrash around Hempstead. I hadn't ridden in anger since the Bellville ride, but wasn't too concerned about keeping up with them, as I usually do just fine. Sean set a hot pace for the first 10 miles and I stayed at the front with him - my first mistake, as I wore myself out hammering into the wind. Later on, we got to the only real climb on the out-run and I was left in the dust by Paddy and Kenny - another warning sign as I'm usually at least competitive in the unofficial King of the Mountains race. A high-speed run down to the Exxon did me in and I trailed in last, well behind. The ride home didn't get any better for me. I glued myself to Sean's rear wheel (nearly took him down a couple of times!) but I was definitely the low man on the totem pole and brought the average speed down considerably. I felt dreadful all the way home and not much better the next day.

In my defence, the temperature and humidity appear to have ramped up recently, and I know from bitter experience that I don't do well when the mercury soars, but there's no substitute for saddle time and hard riding, and I'm short on both. So for the time being, it's farewell and good luck to the Muleskinners - I hope you survive the Hotter than Hell Ride! Meanwhile, Dale has been making noise about getting a new bike, and I know I'll be able to give him a good run for his money for a while, even in a Houston summer. Fortunately he doesn't read this blog (do you, Dale?).

The 100 mile cheeseburger (with fries)

2009-05-24T16:00:00.000-07:00

Just back from the Houston-Bellville-Houston classic, also known (now) as the 100 mile cheeseburger. Paddy, Dave, Sean, Kenny and I started from my house, Oscar-Mike at zero-dark-thirty (sorry, I've been watching "Generation Kill"), giving me at least thirty minutes extra sleep. I led the group through our neighbourhood and to the I-10 frontage road - after that it was every cyclist for himself.

There was a stiffish wind out of the north-northwest which held us back, but there was plenty of chatter in the group as we slogged our way north on Eldridge and Fry. Pretty soon we were on FM 529, having left "civilization" - or at least plenty of places to fill water bottles - behind. This road is a long, straight run due west, with basically bugger-all along it apart from a few farms and some roadkill.

We had planned to stop at a taco truck that the guys remembered from the MS150 run, but it never seemed to arrive, despite Paddy's continuous promises that it was just around the corner. Eventually we pulled over for a break, where Paddy consulted his bike GPS and announced it was only 100 yards away. We rapidly remounted and sure enough, there it was - closed! We dismounted anyway, as there was a covered seating area (very upmarket taco truck)., and took a much-needed break. A

motor bike pulled up just after us and Paddy had the rider take a photo of the group - coming soon to a blog near you, I hope.

Back on the road again and about 5 miles down we crossed the mighty Brazos river. Paddy insisted on a stop and a photo, so we set up the camera on a bike saddle on one side of the bridge and posed on the other. A truck appeared in the distance and for a while it looked like we might get a photo of it instead of the gang - but we got in. Once over the river, we got into more rolling country with some good hills. There was a very nice view at the top of one climb but no-one was really in the mood to take it in. We had about 10 miles to run and we were all flagging a bit by now. Both Paddy and Dave were running very low on water, which didn't help. At last we passed the Bellville city limits sign and the Austin county fairgrounds, where the MS150 riders have lunch on day one. Kenny told me that when they did their pirate run (the first day was officially cancelled due to weather this year), this was where the weather was at its worst, tipping down with rain, the roads running with water. Can't imagine what that was like, but Kenny for one was determined to ride that day, having only just bought his bike.

We roll through the downtown area, heading for the burger place the guys remembered. It turns out to be called "The Hill", for obvious reasons (check out their website). Gents, having to climb a big honkin' hill to get to a burger shack after 50 long miles in the saddle is not my idea of fun - let's go to DQ next time. We dismount (what a relief!) and order lunch - some variety of burger and fries for everyone except Paddy, who opts for a healthy grilled chicken sandwich. There's a covered seating area outside and we camp out there. Sean and Dave keep me laughing with selected dialogue from "Full Metal Jacket" - must get it on Netflix. Two motorbikes roll up (one is actually a trike with two wheels at the front) and the riders join us on the patio. Paddy strikes up conversation with them and gets them to take another photo of the team.

Time to get going but we don't go far - just roll down the hill to a gas station to pick up more water and snacks. Then it's off again. I'm feeling a bit heavy-legged as we head through the hilly section before the Brazos but I'm not the only one. We agree to stop at the Taco truck again and start grinding out the miles. Everything is starting to hurt now and I wonder if I'll be able to stay with the group, who are dogging it out at 18-19 mph. Teamwork helps a lot, as we slot into a paceline and take turns pulling at the front. We were expecting a tail wind but I can't feel it. We make the turn that runs down to the Taco truck and at last get a tail wind. It's still hard work but at least we're going at a decent speed. The truck appears (still closed!) and we all collapse onto folding chairs. Everyone is struggling now. The next stop will be at Walgreens on Fry road, more or less back in civilization - about 15 miles to run.

Off we go again, a long, straight run with a cross wind. Just like the Taco truck on the way out, the Walgreens is always just around the corner, just at the end of that tree-line, just beyond reach - and then it appears, to great whoops from the team, and we pull into the parking lot, in very sorry shape. Everyone downs copious quantities of gatorade and we all get a baptism from Paddy, who picked up a gallon jug of ice-cold water and dumped some on each of our heads. Very uncomfortable. Kenny, who hasn't ridden since the MS150 and is operating on four hours of sleep, has had enough and calls his wife for a sag home. We have 17 miles to run, all in traffic, so we need to keep our wits about us.

Off on the final leg, initially downwind, then due east towards Bear Creek. Some motorists take exception to our presence on the raod and let us know but we're too tired to care. We pull into Bear Creek for a stretch and then it's the run down Eldridge, very familiar to me from countless rides with Dale (where are you, buddy?). Pretty soon we're back at the start, sitting in my back yard drinking beers, planning our next century ride (not for me, matey). Sadly I forgot to use the sunscreen that I carried in my back pocket all the way to Bellville and back, so I'm a real rosbif now -

Houston Ride of Silence 2009

2009-05-22T09:35:00.000-07:00

The Ride of Silence is a slow-paced bike run to honour cyclists who have been injured or killed while riding on public highways. There are rides in the US and other countries at the same time. Houston's Ride of Silence took place last Wednesday evening. About 100 riders rode from Memorial Park to City Hall and back, about 11 miles. The ride is slow-paced and silent, which gives it a very unusual feel, because normally everyone is jockeying for position and chatting away, and there's usually some music blaring too. We gathered outside City Hall and listened to a piper playing "Amazing Grace", then one of the organisers read a short poem and we headed back. For a while on the way home I followed a rider who was pushing an empty bike along, complete with shoes clipped into the pedals. Overall a somber, but touching experience.

Who let the dogs out?

2009-05-17T10:38:00.000-07:00

Back in the saddle this morning with a 0700 start from Zube with Paddy and Sean. Unusually for these parts in May, it was in the low 70's when we started and didn't really warm up during the ride. The reason? A screaming wind out of the north, which made life interesting on a few stretches.

We started out pretty hot, with Sean leading the charge, making me wonder if he was channelling Rachel Alexandra. 10 miles in, we were passed by a group of three riders, which of course was like a red rag to a bull, and I jumped on to the rear wheel. We kept with them for a fair distance, actually taking the lead for a while, but wiser counsels prevailed and we let them go just before the turn onto Mayer road.

Back at a more sensible pace, we made our way through the rolling Waller County landscape to Hempstead and our usual stop at the Exxon gas station. Paddy and I took the opportunity to stock up on essential supplies - energy bars for me, steroid-laced sports drinks for him. We looked at the map and agreed to try the 50 mile route, essentially our standard ride with a 10 mile loop south of Hempstead.

We picked up the new route and were delighted to be running pretty much downwind, downhill - at least until the turn, which took us dead into the wind with a few climbs to negotiate. A small deer decided to cross the road in front of us, making a spectacular leap over a fence in the process. I know that deer strikes can mess up a car pretty comprehensively - what would they do to a lightweight road bike?

We turned north on the last leg of the loop and immediately felt the wind. Sean was feeling his oats and pulled us most of the way into Hempstead, where we picked up the usual route and settled in to a nice, long downwind run. A quick break at the 40 mile point in Waller and then we moved onto Old Washington road, a strip of two-lane blacktop that runs parallel to our normal route but has much less traffic. With about 3 miles to go a dog appeared out of nowhere and began to give chase. I started to wind up the pace to see if I could drop him, then Paddy went flying past, going like Lance being chased by the french press. The dog left me for dead and went flat out after Paddy! It soon reached the end of its territory and went home - it was probably more interested in a run than in a mouthful of spandex.

We regrouped and had a chuckle about our canine encounter. Sean and I agreed that the dog was probably looking for a man-sized meal, which is why it had focussed on Paddy and left him and me alone. The last few miles went by pretty easily (other than one last pull into the wind) and we were back at the cars, in the now-crowded car park.

Next week will be the long-awaited, much-postponed Houston-Bellville-Houston classic - if the weather, work schedules and several ageing knees/ankles/backs/derrieres co-operate.

MS75

2009-04-20T17:22:00.000-07:00

More like MS80 actually, and then when you add in the 20mph head-winds...

Kevin and Barbara showed up to collect me at 5.45 am sharp on Sunday morning

and we headed off down I-10 in the mist. Traffic was moving pretty well all the way to the turn-off for LaGrange but we saw plenty of other riders and were prepared to stop short and unload if necessary. In fact we found our way to the BHP team start with no problems at all.

By that time the sun had come up on a beautiful late spring morning in Central Texas. We gathered with the team for a few group shots and then headed off to the start outside the court

house, a typically impressive, sandstone edifice.

We got rolling en masse at about 8.20am. Less than a mile down the road, a rider from another team went down, at pretty low speed so he probably wasn't hurt - but was this a taste of things to come? The route took us past the Fayette County fairgrounds (where we normally camp overnight) and we could see the flooding from the road, as well as several tents that had blown down. The head wind started to kick in and the group began to spread out along the course as the weaker riders struggled. Kevin and I kept pace for quite a while but at some point we separated. I learned later that his riding partner, Tom, had a major mechanical that took two hours to fix - they wouldn't get in to Austin until nearly 4.00pm.

The road was fairly familiar and I soon recognised the approach to the dreaded hill outside Smithville. This is a long, steep drop that is often the site of nasty crashes. Kevin had a bad experience on the hill some years back and now has his brakes on all the way. I usually let my bike go but this would be the first time on the Plahstic Fantahstic. Oh well, here we go - she

takes off like a rocket and I begin to bleed off speed with the back brake when another rider goes flying by. I catch him on the flat and ask him how fast he was going - apparently he hit 43 mph, so I must have been close to 40 myself. We're now only three miles from the Parks, the biggest physical challenge of the tour, with a succession of very sharp climbs and down-hills.

There's a rest stop one mile in and it's time for a drink and a pee.

Off we go into the Park proper, then - hoping for a better experience this year, with a light bike and lots of gears that I can readily access. On the very first big climb I'm out of the saddle, grunting out each rev of the pedals, side by side with a girl who looks to be about fifteen. We crest the climb together and both let out a big sigh, then exchange grins of relief. Seven more miles to go. I start to hit the downhills pretty hard, mainly to get into a higher gear so that I have more to work with on the way up the climb. Does that make sense? I found

myself in my granny ring on a few of the climbs, and in my lowest gear on that ring once or twice - nowhere to go after that, but get off and walk. Anyway, as a friend would say, I had my big girl pants on and made it through in good order. I even skipped the second rest stop in the Park, where I've always stopped in previous years. Out of the Park and onto Highway 71 for the short run into Bastrop and lunch.

One Subway turkey sandwich and a bag of chips later (really, that's what we get every year), I'm back in the saddle for the last 20 miles, which are usually pretty anti-climactic after the big scary hill and the Park. Not this year! The trees lining the route through the Park were not only beautiful, they broke the head wind. Once west of Bastrop we were in open country (like riding around Katy) and completely exposed. A lot of the riders began to struggle and I spent most of the time on the drops, in a low gear, remembering my spin class lessons and keeping a good, high cadence. About ten miles in a pace line went past with two BHP riders. On the next descent I pssed them, only to have them catch me on the flat. this went on for a while and then I decided to drop into the line and draft for a while. This worked pretty well but too my shame I didn't take a turn at the front. The group made good time and we soon got to the second rest stop where we took a brake. I chatted with the BHP riders and realised it was Brooke and her friend, who I'd met last year. We went our separate ways but I'm very grateful to them for helping me through a tough section of the ride.

This stop (in Webberville, I think) had clearly seen a lot of rain in the last few days. The road was flooded so the riders had to exit by walking across a muddy sports field. I didn't think this was a problem until I tried to clip in to my pedals - the left cleat was clogged and wouldn't engage fully. With less than ten miles to go I decided not to bother with trying to clear it. Just outside Webberville there was a small country church by the road (there are lots of these humble structures on the back roads between Houston and Austin) with a marquee showing the unforgettable legend "God answers kneemail". That little chuckle got me a few more miles down the road, where we finally saw the Austin city limit sign (followed by a very unnecessary "historical markers in city" sign).

Sadly, there are five very hilly miles between the city limit and the finish line. Fortunately, one half of the right lane was coned off for us by the Police, so we're out of the traffic, but of course that means that all the riders are jammed in together. By this time the field has thinned out quite a bit so it's safe enough. I'm starting to recognise the terrain and then we're on a long descent into downtown Austin and crowds are forming along the barriers. The noise level ramps up and I cruise along close enough to the barrier to high-five the kids, which gets me a big cheer. A sharp left turn and we go under the finish sign, and another one is over.

I find some BHP volunteers who point me to the tent, where to my surprise I'm one of the first riders in. I expected to arrive before Kevin but not before Dave and Phil. Anyway, I grab a cold Shiner beer and sit down for a chat with my team-mates, before heading off for a shower. The lines at the shower trucks are very short and I'm under a good stream of hot water pretty quickly. Back at the tent and some of the other riders are trickling in. Phil, Dave and Kenny roll up - they've had a torrid time, with lots of flats (making it a pretty tough weekend in all - see Phils' blog).

Phil and I get photographed together (Phil in cycling gear, me in my glow-in-the-dark Camembert Electrique t-shirt)

by the official BHP photographer, and Phil tells me that everyone will see the shot and think it's Paddy.

I want to wait for Kevin but it's getting late and I'm getting fried, so I pick up the bus back to Houston. There's a nasty wreck on I-10 that slows us down but we get back at about 6.30. I walk down to the high school where Mary-Claire is waiting for me in my car.

Overall it was quite an anti-climactic ride, despite the tough conditions - I guess I'm used to doing two days now. But my fund-raising will be close to my target of $5,000, and BHP will match every cent -

And the ribbing starts -

2009-04-18T07:53:00.000-07:00

My friend Dale, who made an extraordinarily generous donation this year, has informed me that he expects me to do the whole ride in one day now. I counter-offered 30 minutes on a stationary bike in the gym today, with the 80 mile ride tomorrow, and he agreed to consider this if I upped it to 45 minutes.

Dale and I used to ride together at first light every weekend, and his normal pre-ride preparation was a bottle of red wine and a Cuban cigar. He very kindly offered to bring a few choice vintages over to my house tonight to get me in top form, but I elected to pass. Still, with Obama making overtures to Castro, perhaps I should re-consider?

I spoke too soon -

2009-04-18T06:44:00.001-07:00

- when I said that my next ride would start in my garage and end in LaGrange. Mother Nature intervened with heavy rainfall and high winds all through central/east Texas. LaGrange was pummelled, the camp site completely flooded and many of the team tents blown down. On top of that, many sections of the route were flooded, so the MS Society canceled the first day of the event, and now we'll start from LaGrange tomorrow (Sunday) morning.

Which presents a few problems - I don't really want to drive 100 miles to LaGrange for an 8.00 am start, then ride 80 challenging miles, take a bus back to LaGrange and drive 100 miles home. Our team captain, the very wonderful Jennifer, is frantically trying to organize carpools from Houston to LaGrange. I may also be able to catch a lift with Kevin. If all else fails, Susan will come with me to LaGrange and then drive the car home, and I'll ride the bus back to Houston. What a mess. On the plus side, I now have top quality rain gear -

new boots and panties

2009-04-17T07:38:00.000-07:00

The weather forecast for the ride is pretty bad. Heavy rain and possible thunderstorms all the way to LaGrange tomorrow, then a dry ride to Austin on Sunday with a 15-20 mph headwind. My wonderful, considerate spouse decided I needed better rain gear so she went to the local bike shop and bought me booties, waterproof overshoes for my cycling shoes, a bit like these. She was going to buy me a new rain jacket too but they didn't have any. What a sweetheart.

Today I'm at home, packing my bags and trying to get ready for the ride, physically and mentally. This year I didn't get in as much road training as I'd like (I never do), at least in part because I lost a week or two due to bronchitis. On the plus side, I went to spin class pretty regularly and I think that's helped my stamina quite a bit. Anyway, too late to worry about it now. My next ride will start in my garage and end in LaGrange, 100 miles and several inches of rain later. Wish me luck!

with a little help from my friends

2009-04-13T18:56:00.000-07:00

A great boost today - several of Susan's on-line friends left me messages of support. Thanks very much, I really appreciate your words of encouragement, and will remember them when things get tough. No matter how well or hard I train, no matter how light the bike or how good the weather, I always hit the wall somewhere on the way to Austin, when I have to dig deep and put the pain and fatigue behind me and focus on the road ahead. People with MS have to do that every day.

The final countdown

2009-04-12T10:26:00.000-07:00

Once more off to Zube. I was in two minds about riding because the weather forecast looked very ugly, but it's the last opportunity for a longer ride before the MS150, so I dragged myself out of bed and hit the road. It started raining as I turned on 290 and go steadily heavier. I thought about turning round but didn't. I arrived at Zube to find an almost completely empty car park, with no sign of any of my buddies, but a few minutes later Paddy pulled up and out jumped the Shrimpton boys. They unloaded their bikes - Paddy's Bianchi from last year and his gorgeous, all-carbon Felt for this year. I innocently wondered if they took it in turns to ride the carbon, but apparently they don't. Sean pulled up in his red truck and we had a peloton.

The rain had eased a little so I took off my rain jacket. and off we went. The road was very wet and we were throwing fine rooster tails, making it unpleasant to draft, to say the least. We had the wind behind us on the way out and were coasting along in fine style. There are a few short climbs in the back country and Phil took the opportunity to show us the form that made him such a threat to the pros on the Cheshire Cat sportive he rode this year. At this point the weather deteriorated dramatically and we found ourselves battling through some very sharp showers. Sean thought it was like being hit by a million tiny spitballs! I was wearing my tinted safety glasses and couldn't see much but without them I wouldn't have been able to see anything at all. We rolled into the Exxon station outside Hempstead for a break, looking like drowned rats in spandex.

Back on the road and the rain eased up for most of the run back. We also had a natural wind break for much of the way, a line of trees along the south side of the road. One last fabulous stretch with the wind on our backs and we were back at Zube, where the parking lot was still empty. Of course I had forgotten to bring a change of clothes, but Mary-Claire had left a selection of sweatshirts in the car, so I drove home in a rather fetching navy-blue Hollins University hoodie. The really bad weather rolled through about an hour later. Apparently the long-range weather forecast is calling for thunderstorms on Saturday - I may need to upgrade my rain gear.

The Accidental Tourist

2009-04-04T15:03:00.001-07:00

Off to Zube Park this morning, hoping to run into Dave and/or Sean, but no luck, so I set out on my own. This turned out to be a bad idea because I missed a turn somewhere and found myself on the access road to 290. I turned round and took the first road north, thinking that I should be able to get back onto the route. Well, in the end I did, but not before an 8 mile detour, through admittedly very pretty countryside. I found out why we don't take that route - I was chased by no fewer than 3 dogs, two of which kept pace with me for quite a distance. I normally try to out-run dogs, on the principle that they can't keep up the pace for very long, and often stop at the end of their territory anyway. This worked well for one (although I didn't enjoy the up-hill sprint) but the other two were more game. Anyway, they can't bite you when they're running at full tilt.

I picked up the normal route eventually and made my way to the halfway point, where there's an Exxon station. Today there were quite a few riders, either because everyone is thinking about the MS150, or because it was a Saturday, or both. I turned for home and immediately got into a strong headwind, which persisted all the way back. It would have been a good day to ride to Austin.

Last night I told everyone how bored I was with hearing Queen's "Bicycle Race" at the start of

big rides. Surely there are better songs about riding? This prompted a mass Google of cycling-

related songs, the best of which were Pink Floyd's "Bike" (far and away the best, actually) and "My White Bicycle", originally by Tomorrow, but covered by, and a big hit for Nazareth (also covered by Neil on his "heavy Concept Album"). Any other cycling songs?

Bluebonnets and gumbo

2009-03-31T19:02:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday found me trekking out to Hempstead for the Bluebonnet Express ride, on a clear but cold morning. There were a few other BHP riders in the event but we didn't manage to hook up, so I was a lone wolf for 48 miles. The route is very scenic, if flat, and there were plenty of wildflowers, although not many bluebonnets until mile 30 or so. I knew Dave was doing the ride out of Zube park the same morning, and the two routes overlap - sure enough, heading south on Field Store road in the pack I saw Dave and another rider heading north. I called out to Dave but he didn't appear to see me. Anyway, the ride went well enough - I'm feeling reasonably happy about the main event (rapidly approaching!).

Tuesday morning was another early start but for

a different reason. My friend Rog and his lovely wife Brandi cater a fund-raising Cajun lunch at BHP every year, and this year I offered to help with the cooking. This involved a 3.00am start in order to get to Rog's place in Kingwood (40 miles from home) by 4.00am. For the next six hours I stirred pots, tasted gumbo, beans and sausage and etouffe and went for kolaches (odd to be sent out for food with enough for an army right there!). We drove the food down to the office and other team members served it to several hundred hungry BHP peeps, raising several thousand bucks for the cause in the process. Great fun but now I'm about to go nose first onto my laptop -

Sooey, sooey reprise

2009-03-28T15:05:00.001-07:00

According to the Chron , the Army Corps of Engineers think that Steve Radack's plan to control the feral hog population in Bush park is about as wacky as I do. Sorry West Houston bow hunters, you're going to have to stay on the archery range a bit longer, because the prospect of wounded hogs running rampant in the park was a bit too much to bear.

My colleague Scott grew up in Ohio, but as a child went hunting regularly in Western Pennsylvania with his dad and brother. They used bows, too, but were after deer. Apparently in 10 years of trying he never hit a single deer, even though he was a miniature Robin Hood in practise. What's the point, anyway?

Got to pick a packet or two

2009-03-26T06:09:00.000-07:00

MS-150 packet pick-ups have started, which means we're getting very close to ride-time. It's also the point of no return for some, because once you pick up your packet, you're committing to the minimum fund-raising level of $400. No problem for me, I passed the mark months back.

Sadly, though, I didn't get my paperwork done in time for the BHP group pick-up so I have to go to one of the Toyota dealerships and do it myself. Tonight is my best option as I can go to the nearest one (while holding my nose - they were just fined by the state for cheating customers).

Not much riding ths week, as we have Bonnie and Evan staying, so I took time off work. I went to spin class last night and I'll probably ride to work on Friday, then there's the Bluebonnet Express ride on Sunday. The weather looks good -

Shine on you crazy riders

2009-03-22T12:47:00.000-07:00

A busy few days of gardening and cycling. I had Friday off so I joined Dave and Paddy at 1.00pm for a burn-up along Terry Hershey. Beautiful cycling weather, so predictably the park was heaving with walkers, but also predictably we had the trail to ourselves more or less once we reached the dam. Into the wind on the way back, which slowed the pace a bit. Just to add to the fun, I got a flat and had to do a roadside repair.

Paddy and Dave went out to Zube Park on Saturday morning and had a good time, terrorizing innocent pace-lines (see Paddy's blog) but I elected to sleep in and then get going in the garden. The replacement tomatoes are now in (half the previous crop got blasted in a hail storm), as are some basil plants and a very nice mandevilla plant that Susan picked up at Buchanan's. We finished the day in the garden off with a dinner of tandoori chicken and naan bread on the patio.

Sunday morning found me heading out to Zube (rapidly becoming our favourite cycling area) in some pretty dense fog. Paddy showed up late and we were joined a bit later still by Sean, a friend of a co-worker who will be riding with us this year. The fog had cleared by the time we hit the road but it stayed cloudy for most of the ride. It was nice to be out without leggings, heavy socks, windcheater etc. We made good time out to Hempstead, where I saw a few black and white cows in a field and immediately thought of this Pink Floyd album cover. Paddy couldn't name it - can you?

A good break at a gas station near the twenty-mile mark and then back home, with a stiff cross-wind most of the way and lots of low-relief hills. We dug deep and made it back to Zube in good order. Paddy decided he needed to ride a few laps of the car park to get his mileage up, so Sean and I watched him from the relative comfort of our cars.

Next weekend is the Bluebonnet Express, a very popular ride which starts near Hempstead and follows some of the roads on today's route. I'll be there and so will Sean, but poor old Paddy will be on his travels again, this time in the Northern Territory of Australia. Apparently a friend in Perth will lend him a bike so he can get some miles in.

Sunday, bloody Sunday

2009-03-15T11:44:00.000-07:00

Off to the outer reaches of Harris county for a ride with Paddy and Dave this morning, under grey skies with the threat of thunderstorms later. It was good to see the guys, especially Paddy who has been out of pocket for quite a while. We saddle up under the suspicious gaze of two rather large ducks who have decided to perch high in a tree above us. Is it a coincidence that the ducks take off just as Paddy reveals rather a lot of skin, putting on his heart-rate monitor? Dave and I thought not. We share the usual pre-ride excuses - Dave has been working out too much, Paddy's meniscus is pinging, I'm on four different prescription meds for bronchitis - and head out.

It's cold and windy but the roads are quiet and pretty soon we're out in the country. I'm a bit nervous about riding with these two because they ride much faster than I do, but we stick together and ride in a paceline, alternating the lead every mile, and I'm pretty comfortable. After ten miles Paddy starts to cramp up, so for most of the rest of the ride we hold back a little, especially on the hills.

There's a gas station outside Hempstead at the twenty mile mark where we stop and take a break. This always involves detailed inspections of each others' bikes and today's examination revealed that Paddy and Dave need to hose theirs down after several rides in the wet, while mine still looks new. We all agree that it's a great area for riding, better than the West Houston parks we normally use, but a bit remote.

Back on the road and the route puts us on old 290 all the way back to the start, with a few hills and traffic lights to negotiate. Paddy is still cramping so we take it fairly easily. With 2 miles to go, though, as usual he finds a second wind and leaves me for dead on a short, sharp sprint. We dismount, load the bikes and head out just as it starts to rain.

The rain gets steadily heavier on the way back and is really very nasty coming down the Beltway. However, the big surprise was waiting for me when I got back into our neighbourhood - we'd had a very sharp hail storm, with marble-sized chunks coming down. All I can think of is my tomato plants - have they survived? Sadly, no they haven't. Here's the view from our garden door.

sooey, sooey

2009-03-13T16:57:00.000-07:00

According to today's Houston Chronicle, George Bush park (where we ride every weekend, just about) is over-run with feral hogs, like this charming family. One estimate puts 10,000-15,000 little piggys in the park's 7,800 acres. They must be well camouflaged because I've never seen one.

Park employees are allowed to trap them and they typically take about 400 a year, but a more aggressive cull is needed. Step forward Commissioner Steve Radack, whose brilliant idea is to allow licensed hunters to take as many as they want... providing they use a bow and arrows! Jeez Louise, only in Texas. He also wants to donate the meat to churches, shelters for the homeless, food banks etc. Sounds good except that most of those places can't accept meat unless it has come from a slaughterhouse, and anyway by all accounts it's like eating old socks stuffed with mud.

Not much riding lately - the weather has been crap but should improve on Sunday.

no saddle time this weekend - it's getting dusty

2009-03-06T16:42:00.000-08:00

We're off on a trip to Roanoke, Virginia to visit Hollins University, Mary-Claire's top college choice. We fly out tomorrow morning but don't arrive until 4pm - we have to change planes in Atlanta, which is a bore. We'll have Sunday to look around and then a programme of events at the University on Monday. We do the whole trip in reverse on Tuesday. So no bike time for me this weekend - I'll need to make up for lost time next week. There's an organised ride out of Magnolia which looks promising - a $5 barbecue lunch afterwards!

stay away from these roads in April!

2009-03-05T09:19:00.000-08:00

here is the MS 150 route map -

I'm nearly famous

2009-03-02T08:57:00.000-08:00

This cutting from the Houston paper was spotted and passed to me by my buddy, former colleague, fellow rider and fan of Turkish food, Jim Clark. Thanks Jim, and see you on the road!

It's cold in them thar hills

2009-03-01T15:49:00.000-08:00

Off to Sealy this morning, for the first real test of my legs this training season. A cold front came through last night, bringing temperatures in the mid-30's and a fresh wind out of the north - not exactly ideal conditions.

I got to the start in Sealy at about 7.30. A group of riders were getting ready to start but I got out in front of them and almost immediately found myself battling the wind. The lead riders from the group caught me pretty quickly, but they stopped at one of the turns to regroup, so I got in front again. The first half of the ride is on fairly rough country roads and runs roughly east, so the wind was on my right side, which made it much more managable. I rode past the ramshackle old trailer where I usually get chased by a dog. I wanted to see how long he could keep up with the Plastic Fantahstic, but he wasn't around - maybe he chased one bike too many. The dynamic duo caught me again but I kept them in sight on the way down to Bernardo, where I normally take a break as it's about 20 miles into the ride. They had pulled over too, waiting on their SAG wagon.

After a bite of apple, a slug of water and a good stretch I headed out on the next 5 mile leg, which runs past a very impressive looking spread with a big house and a lake. My buddies caught me (again!) and this time I jumped on a wheel and drafted a bit. We turned east and had the wind on our backs for a mile or so and really accelerated. Back on to the main road and they dropped me pretty quickly. It was quite a struggle working my way north into Cat Spring but I used my gears and made it reasonably comfortably.

The next stretch is the toughest part of the ride - 10 miles of very rolling terrain, with several nasty climbs and one double climb, where you think you've made it to the top but you have to do it again very soon after. Fortunately the wind had veered west enough that much of the section was down-wind, but it was still tough. I got a good work out with the gears, and realized how much harder this ride would have been on my old bike, with its down-tube hope-you-can-find them gears.

Through the hills and on to the least enjoyable section, the 7 mile run down Hwy. 36 back to Sealy. The speed limit on 36 is 70 mph and it's pretty busy, but it has a wide shoulder so it's safe enough. Unfortunately the road surface is very rough, and the Plastic Fantahstic is a very harsh ride (like all carbon bikes - the only real drawback) so my teeth were shaking all the way. I found out that the white line was much smoother and rode on it as much as I could, but that put me too close to traffic so I had to keep ducking back onto the shoulder. By the time I got to Sealy I was afraid to get out of the saddle in case my bum fell off. The road quality is much better for the last mile and it felt like I was riding on silk.

Back at the start, and the two hotshots have clearly been in for some time - did they do the full ride, I wonder?

So overall I passed the test pretty well, although we'll see what shape the legs are in tomorrow -

Fun in the sun

2009-02-22T18:48:00.001-08:00

An enjoyable morning at the Bike skills clinic today, although it was pretty cold and windy too. Susan came with me but didn't stay long - it was far too cold to hang around. Once a few people arrived, Dave called for a group to head out on a 6-mile loop, working on group riding skills and I joined him. I pretty quickly found myself at the back of the group, shepherding a couple of slower riders. Back at base camp, the basic maintenance skills class is in full swing, and the Bike Barn guys are busy with bike inspections. I hang around, chatting with some of the riders, waiting for the next group to go out. Pretty soon we were back on the loop, mostly with veteran riders this time, and I made the mistake of trying to keep pace with Dave and John, probably our two strongest riders. I pretty quickly fell back and rolled in at the back of the group. When we got back this time, the Tour de Hood group had arrived - a bunch of disadvantaged kids who ride through downtown every Saturday morning. We formed a group and off we went again. Just like the first run, I worked my way to the back and rode round with two kids who might have been brother and sister. They found the going pretty hard but completed the loop.

Back at the pavilion, and things were winding down. I joined the line for bike inspections and got my bike tweaked and approved. Dave was organising a group to go for a longer run so I watered up, ate a banana and off we went. We rode through Cullen Park and then into the end of George Bush park. We rode about 3 miles into the park, regrouped and turned around. The ride back was uneventful but Dave flatted in Bear Creek with about a mile to run. He started walking while Russell and I headed back as fast as we could to pick up a vehicle and sag him back.

With everyone safely home, I loaded up my back pack and set out for home. It was 2.00pm and I was starving. I rode down Eldridge (with the wind on my back for once) thinking about the sandwich I was going to make for lunch. Back home, and MC has made hummus, so we eat some of that, with lentils and sausages left over from last night. It all tasted wonderful, especially when washed down with a Sierra Nevada.

where is everybody?

2009-02-21T13:05:00.000-08:00

I showed up on time at Terry Hershey this morning, expecting to see a few BHP buddies, but no-one showed up. Paddy is excused (he's in Singapore or China or somewhere) but where were all the rest? I'll be charitable and assume that they're keeping their powder dry for the Clinic at Bear Creek tomorrow.

Anyway, a good day for a ride, although Katy Fit were out in force. Not much evidence that the spin classes are helping, but I made pretty good time and ejoyed the run.

on the road again

2009-02-17T13:13:00.001-08:00

Finally back on the bike after a week off sick with the flu. These flu shots are not worth the money and pain. I'm still not 100% fit but I'm fed up with driving and need some saddle time.

Pedalling for the ducks

2009-02-07T13:11:00.000-08:00

Off to Katy Mills mall for my first organised ride of the season, a fund-raiser for Ducks Unlimited. I hooked up with Paddy and Dave under the sign of the Boxing Kangaroo, but we were on different routes (not to mention different paces) and once the ride started I didn't see them again.

Great weather at first - cool and not too much wind, but as the morning wore on, so the wind picked up, and with no cover on the Katy prairie you feel the full force. A long run into the wind and then we turned west with the wind on our side and for once a few trees for shelter. At this point two large, very fast pace lines came flying through without any warning. One of the riders came very close to me left shoulder and I screamed blue murder at him, then apologised to the lady on my right who I was passing at the same time. I hate these guys - they are clearly riding at a much higher level than the rest of us but that's no excuse for poor etiquette.

Another turn had us with the wind on our backs and I let it all hang out for a while. The Plahstic Fantahstic is wonderful with a tail wind - it just leaps ahead and the only thing you hear is tire noise. The down-wind run took us to Fulshear and a timely rest stop.

Back on the road and we worked our way north through pretty countryside. We crossed over I-10 at Brookshire and then turned east with the wind on our right hand side, now gusting quite strongly. The last stretch of this ride is a 15 mile run along US 90 and the cross-wind and tired riders made it interesting. One last stop and then the Katy water tower appeared in the distance and we were on the home stretch.

Back at Katy Mills, where the lunch consisted of a skewer with a piece of sausage, half a pickle and a white bread roll threaded on it, plus a complementary cup of the Budweiser product of your choice. The food was surprisingly good and the Bud ziegenbock was drinkable, sort of. No sign of Paddy or Dave - they probably finished well ahead of me and Paddy was flying out to Singapore later so he probably didn't hang around. All in all an enjoyable ride that left me feeling pretty good - we'll see if I still feel the same tomorrow morning.

turn, turn, turn

2009-02-05T06:00:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I had my first ever spin class (or "Studio Ride", in the parlance of our swanky gym). I was greeted as I entered by Zo, a five foot, 90 pound streak of energy. She set up the bike for me (5J6, I must remember that) and then off we went. Lights down, blowers on, some Euro bike race on the big screens, techno blasting out of every corner - not exactly a pleasant country ride.

I'd imagined that spin class would be a great place to practise cycling skills but it wasn't at all. Zo had us out of the saddle for extended periods, which you really don't want to do out on the road. This made it hard to keep a good cadence or to work the pedals all the way through the stroke. In fact the class is less about cycling than it is about aerobic fitness. That's obviously important for cyclists, but you could get it other ways too. Anyway, I'll probably stick with the class as it's a good mid-week workout, sandwiched between longer weekend rides.

I got back to the changing room and ran into Doug, a BHP colleague and long-time MS150 rider. He had been in the same class (sorry, ride), and complained that it had finished before the end of the bike race - obviously a hard-core spinner if he had been paying that much attention to the TVs!

Another lesson - I need to bring a spare shirt to class. I had to ride home from the gym in a very damp shirt - fortunately it's only a mile or so.

"drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry"

2009-02-03T18:10:00.000-08:00

Today is the fiftieth anniversary of the fiery plane crash in Iowa that took the lives of Buddy Holly, J.P."The Big Bopper" Richardson and Ritchie Valens, an event immortalised as "The day the music died" in Don MacLean's song, "American Pie". Not so well known is that Waylon Jennings should have been on the plane, but gave up his seat to Richardson.

Holly was 22, Richardson 28 and Valens...17. Live fast, die young and leave a good-looking corpse. Too late for me, of course -

brrr (again)

2009-02-03T06:21:00.000-08:00

Mother Nature decided to test my mettle this morning with a 37 degree start to the day - and only my second commuter ride this year. Under clear skies and with no wind it was actually a gorgeous morning and a pretty good ride once I'd lost all sensation in my extremities.

Meanwhile, back in Blighty, the South-East of England has had its heaviest snowfall in 18 years and of course the entire region has ground to a halt. Not that it takes much - when I was living in London, 1-2" of snow was enough to bring chaos to the public transportation system. James up in Indiana, of course, sneers at anything less than a foot of snow, but I doubt there's a single snow plough in the entire city.

back in the (commuter) saddle again

2009-02-02T08:31:00.000-08:00

Hooray! Today I rode in to work for the first time since before Christmas. A very good morning for it, too - a bit on the cool side and some wind but I enjoyed every minute.

I've had to adapt my morning routine at BHP, as we've been told to remove all gear from the shower room after showering. This actually gives me an opportunity to put my musette to good use. For those of you who aren't up-to-date with Euro-cycling jargon, a musette is basically a cyclist's feedbag - a light canvas bag with a long strap that you hang around your neck and eat from. Every stage race has a designated feeding point half-way through, where riders pick up musettes, traditionally containing jam sandwiches and rice cakes, these days more likely energy gels and bars. I saw one on eBay and couldn't resist it. it's been hanging in my office for a while so today I put my toiletries in it, slung it round my neck, and went to the showers looking like a pro (in my dreams anyway).