wetter than an otter's pocket

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)

"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

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"

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

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

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)

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.