"Climb ev'ry mountain, ford ev'ry stream..

.. run from ev'ry dog-gie"  can't think of a good last line but you get the idea.  Our ride around Sealy yesterday had all that and more.  Kevin picked me up on a cold, blowy morning, with roads wet from the front that came through on Friday but with no precipitation in the forecast.

The ride was initially uneventful, with me fighting to stay with Kevin every time we turned north into the breeze.  We made the turn onto Kulow and I was surprised to see that the Confederate flag normally fluttering  bravely over a farm building on the corner was not there.  Instead we got chased by a small puppy with big ideas - presumably "the bigger they are, the harder they fall" - which spooked Kevin a bit.  He's still gun-shy from last weekend and is a bit skittish in the turns anyway.

A little further on we reached the spot where the road dips and crosses a small stream.  The road is usually dry but there had been enough rain for the creek to rise and put a good 6 inches of fast-moving water across it.  I didn't fancy riding through so I picked up my bike and forded in cyclocross style, getting both shoes full of water in the process.  Kevin rode across but didn't get away with dry feet either.

Kevin's caracara

Back at it and we reached the section where we often see birds - scissor-tailed flycatchers for me, various hawks including caracaras for Kevin.  No flycatchers today but a pair of caracaras were roosting on a telegraph pole and one of them hung around long enough for me to get a good shot.

We got to the usual stop at the feed store in San Bernardo but it was closed.  I took the opportunity to wring a little water out of my socks.  Under overcast sky it was pretty chilly but my feet actually didn't feel too bad.  While we were refuelling Kevin spotted a flight of large, long-necked birds that could only be sandhill cranes.  They were flying north, we were heading west but would turn north in due course, would we get a better look at them?

Into the back country and another canine assault from an unexpected area.  A loopy-looking weimaraner came galloping out through a fence but was clearly only looking for a run and gave up the chase at the end of his territory.  We were more concerned about "Dog Alley", a property a few miles ahead where we've had run-ins with far more bloody-minded mutts on several occasions.

In fact it was anti-climactic when we got there.  We pre-loaded our sprint, zipping by at 22mph, but the hell-hounds were not to be seen.  We reached the turn for Cat Spring and a few miles dead into the wind.  Kevin took point as always and I tried to hang on, predictably falling back on the climbs.

Just outside of town we saw the sandhills again, on a small stock pond.  We pulled over but couldn't get close enough for a good shot without spooking them.

Through Cat Spring and to the Crossroads Tavern, another regular watering hole that was also closed.  Kevin needed to pump ship and I could have managed one too but we couldn't find a discrete spot to do so.  I was running low on water but Kevin, just like a good domestique, had a spare bottle of water for me.

On to the "climb ev'ry mountain" section, with the wind actually helping for once.  Kevin was incredibly strong on the climbs, tearing ahead of me in his big ring but being good enough to wait on the flats.  I was managing OK by dropping from the big ring to the middle ring (I have a triple), but there's one section that needs the granny ring and I was worried about throwing my chain, as I did in the Park during the MS150 this year.  Sure enough, I went for the granny and locked up the drive train.  I just got my foot out of the cleat before falling over and had to flip the bike over to free the chain, which was jammed in between the frame and crank.

Kevin came back to see what was up and we started out again together.  I had enough in my legs to get up the climb from a standing start in the granny ring but didn't risk going back to it for the rest of the ride.  Got to get that fixed!

We finished out the hilly section comfortably enough and made the turn onto route 36, for a blissful seven mile downwind run on a smooth surface with a wide shoulder.  We hit 28 mph on one small descent without really trying.  A good way to finish a tough, cold and eventful ride.

A tale of two rides

Saturday morning found Kevin and I on the road out to Zube, just for a change.  As we often do, we chatted about music on the way and once again I was amazed by the depth of his knowledge.  The conditions reminded me of a particularly foggy ride a few years back that I'd blogged as "Fog on the Brazos", a sideways version of "Fog on the Tyne", a 1975 single release from Newcastle folk-rockers Lindisfarne.  When I asked Kevin if he knew the band, of course he did and noted that founder member Ray Jackson had gone on to play the mandolin solo on "Maggie May", in my opinion quite possibly the worst piece of music ever released (the song, not the solo).

This jolly banter got us to Zube where the Mules were already set up - Paddy, Gene and two newbies.  They were actually waiting for Crawford (who didn't show) and Patty, who pulled up in her mini wearing her helmet and shoes!

Paddy was looking for an express ride as he had the Mules party at his place that evening and needed to get home.  I would have preferred a longer, more sedate run but it didn't work out that way.  We headed out on Betka and then hit Mathis, a new-ish route for me that kept us off Business 290 but sadly exposed us to a canine threat.  A particularly stupid black mutt squeezed under a barbed-wire fence and onto a relatively busy road just to take a closer look at Kevin, who shouted himself hoarse trying to shake the damn thing off.
The express route had us turning left instead of right on FM362 and Kevin and I should have split from the group right there, but we didn't and found ourselves screaming downwind on a pretty busy road for several miles - fun but a little hair-raising.  We got split up and regrouped at the Shell station in Waller (home of the County Line BBQ, yum!), but while I was inside answering a call of nature Paddy, Patty and Gene took off leaving Kevin and I to fend for ourselves.

We talked about options to add some miles but they weren't that appealing, especially with the wind picking up and veering north, so we decided to head back to Zube and add bonus miles if we felt like it at the end.

At the last turn before the park Kevin suggested we go straight instead and see where it took us - but we could see a largish dog standing in the middle of the road, so with Kevin still hoarse from hist last canine encounter we turned due north.

Poor choice - it took all I had in the tank to keep the speedometer in two digits!  Kevin pulled ahead but it was tough on him too.  We got to a natural break two miles down and turned for home, pulling at 20 mph all the way.

I didn't go to the party but met up with the Mules again on Sunday at the Jingle Bell Ride, a fun cruise around River Oaks after dark, ooh-ing and aah-ing at the impressive holiday lights.  You're encouraged to dress up your bike and yourself too, so this year I went as Willie Robertson, the impressively hirsute CEO of Duck Commander and main cast member on "Duck Dynasty".  MC helped me put camo duct tape on the bike and I mounted a duck decoy somewhat precariously on my handlebars.  A gang of the Mules wore reindeer suits to escort Steve who was in a full Santa outfit.  We were all looking sharp.  A bit chilly but lots of fun.

Popsicle toes

to name just one extremity chilled during my ride on Saturday.  With the forecast showing a high of 37 F, the Mules cancelled both weekend rides, and Kevin bailed on me (admittedly a reasonable excuse - he was expecting a record crowd at that night's Unitunes show), so it was a lone, frozen wolf who set out that morning.  There was a soccer tournament at Zube (they must have been really cold, poor kids) and we'd been asked to consider parking elsewhere, so I went past the Zube exit and pulled into the Hockley Community centre lot (site of last week's impromptu soap-box derby).  The Northwest Cyclery group had also relocated for the day, but the cold had reduced their numbers from 50-plus to about a half dozen.

I had brought all my cold weather gear with the exception of my balaclava, which Susan won't let me wear anyway (apparently it makes me look like a bicycle-mounted terrorist), and with the car showing 31 F I decided to wear the lot, including booties.  I took off at a good pace to try and get warmed up, but it wasn't until 20 minutes into the ride that I began to feel a little warm.

A stiffish breeze out of the north didn't help matters.  Every turn north saw my speed drop to 14 mph or so, and my effort ratcheted up just to keep that pace.  The good thing about riding on your own is that no-one is pushing you to go faster than you want.  Of course, that's also the bad thing about a solo ride.  With Kevin, I would have been fighting to keep it at 17 or 18 into the wind, on my own I could take it a little easier but I didn't get the same workout.

The roads were very quiet, and several times I found myself really enjoying the ride - cooking along pretty comfortably listening to the swish of the tires on the road.  But I was glad to reach the north limit of the ride and turn around.

What a difference - running with the wind found me cruising at 20+mph without a lot of effort, the wind was clearly stronger than I thought.  I got to the gas station feeling pretty good, having hydrated enough to feel the call of nature, so to speak.  I bought a bottle of water from the young woman at the register - she asked me if I wasn't a little cold?  Freezing, I replied.

Back at it, with one glorious downwind section pulling at 25 before making the turn east.  Didn't seem to take too long to get back to the car.  Parking at Hockley shortened the route to 36 miles which I managed at an average speed of 15.4mph, pretty good under the circumstances.  But it was quite a while before I felt warm again.

A wee dram to keep out the cold

Pusser's rum or single malt?

It's the Saturday after Thanksgiving, I have to go back to work on Sunday after being on vacation for a week, and I still haven't gone out on the bike.  Kevin is out of town so it's time to Mule up.  I duly head out to Zube on a very crisp (43 degree) morning.

It's been so long since I drove out on 290 that most of the construction work is complete and there are visibly more shops and businesses that have sprung up as Houston sprawls inexorably north-west.  How long before our quiet country roads are lined with housing?

No sign of Paddy or any other Mules when I arrive, but a good group slowly gathers - Tay the donut King,Captain Andy,  Paul the Flying Dutchman, Flo and Catherine.  It's looking like a pretty speedy group.  Paddy rolls up and starts passing round a shiny hip flask that he claims contains Pusser's rum.  He encourages me to take a sip and against my better judgment I try it.  This immediately reminds me why I don't drink spirits, although I have to say it tastes more like whisky to me.

With the temperature still in the low 40's but the promise of a warm up in the forecast, we're an oddly dressed group.  Tay looks like he's going out for a summer morning ride, with bare arms and legs and short gloves.  Paddy has several layers going, including a vest.  I'm in leg and arm warmers but short gloves, everyone else is somewhere in between.

Off we roll, ahead of the Northwest Cyclery mob.  They start at 8 am in speed groups and we generally get passed by the 20+mph lot after 10-15 miles.  It's been so long since I was out with the Mules that they have changed the route, and we head south fairly quickly to avoid Business 290.  The pace is variable and a bit hot for me, but I manage to stay with the group for the first 20 miles.  At that point the speedsters decide to stretch out for the four miles to the gas station and we split.  Even the slow group is too fast, running over 20mph, admittedly with a favourable wind.

At the gas station (in the company of at least 50 Northwest riders) Paddy wanted to lengthen the ride, ostensibly to give us some shelter from the wind, which was picking up and dead in our faces.  Once again I succumbed to peer pressure and agreed to the extension.  I did ok for the first 5 mules or so but started to lag.  The group was pretty strung out anyway due to the vicious head wind and it started to look like every Mule for him/herself. Paddy was way back, as were Tay and Gene.  Catherine dropped back to join me and we regrouped and tried to form a paceline.  We made better progress in a group and I felt fairly comfortable.

With only a few miles to run we passed the Hockley Recreational Center as usual - but then Paddy turned into the car park and headed for the Soap-box derby track!  We've always joked about riding the bikes down it, so now we did!  I had my camera so I went down first, then got some shots of the gang as they came down after me (they're on Facebook, take a look).  Great fun but much smaller than some of the descents on the MS150.

Back at Zube, and Flo and Catherine give Paddy a birthday gift - it's a calendar with cheesecake shots of female cyclists, all apparently pro's and all Swiss!  A fun ending to a fun outing.

An unlikely ear-worm

Robin Trower in full flight in 1975

Kevin and I are still building a base before increasing the mileage, and he had band practise at 11 today, so we opted for the four-park loop staring from chez moi.  This also allowed a slightly later start, never a bad thing.  I was actually doing warm-up loops on Kimberley when he arrived, instead of scrambling to get my gear together.

Great minds think alike (and fools seldom differ, as my Mum always added) - Kevin suggested riding the route in reverse, and that had occurred to me already.  Riding out on Eldridge and back on Memorial would eliminate a couple of left turns on busy roads, always a good idea, so off we went.

We hadn't discussed pace but settled on around 18mph, with the occasional burst at 20+.  Kevin was looking as strong as ever and he dropped me a few times.  He had already warned me that I was in for a torrid time due to his latest earworm, a few favourite tracks by Robin Trower that I didn't know.  Later on I had a listen to one of them, "Bridge of Sighs", and enjoyed it but found it an odd choice, with a fairly slow tempo.  Anyway, he seemed to be rocking along pretty well with it in his head.

We got through George Bush and decided to finish out the ride through Terry Hershey park, instead of running down Memorial in Saturday mid-morning traffic.  Kevin used to run in the park back when he was first in Houston (30-odd years ago!) and wanted to see how much it had changed.  He also remembered trapping armadillos and other critters in a friend's back yard and wanted to see if the house was still there (it was).  Foot and bike traffic slowed the pace quite a bit but I was glad to ease off, I think he was too.

Biking for Little Heroes

good to see Paddy again

Three line whip for the Mules today at the Bike for Little Heroes event.  This charity donates bikes to the children of wounded veterans and Paddy Le Patron is on the Board, so we all try to attend.  Today we had 36 Mules riding, a new record for the team.

It was also Kevin's first organized ride since his latest wreck, so with no 40-ish mile option we decided to take it easy and do 36.  He picked me up with Jens already on board.  Jens is a new employee at the Mothership who wants to get into cycling.  He bought himself a nice new entry-level Novara and is enough of a newbie not to realize it came with a carbon front fork!  Jorge was also in but decided to drive himself as he wanted to get an early departure for a trip to Ren Fest.

Great to see a big group of Mules at the start, including Paddy (back from Singapore) and Mike (back from Blighty), plus many more that I either didn't know or hadn't seen in ages.  Lots of back-slapping and camaraderie, it's a great group.

Off we went in a big group.  Fairly quickly we separated with Kevin, Jorge, Jens and me going at a slightly more sedate pace.  Jens was definitely enjoying himself but he's clearly a natural athlete and decided to push ahead leaving the three of us trying to hold 17-18 mph.  Kevin was full of beans, showing no after-effects of his fall and leading from the front as always.

We took a break at the second stop.  As usual on these smaller rides there were no lines for the portapotties, that will change as the season gets going.  We hooked up with Chris, Greg and Jens but weren't going to stay with them for long.  Jorge was looking very comfortable and really enjoying the ride, which was nice to see - apparently Irina kicked him out of bed and then went back to sleep!

I struggled a bit during the run back but the guys held up for me, which was kind.  Kevin was really feeling strong and wanted to push ahead, so I told him to tear it up and tried to hang on.  I held on for a bit but he dropped me and the others too.  We regrouped for the final run in and crossed the finish line in the Three Musketeers formation.

Back at the Mules stable for a beer and a hot dog.  Then one of the organizers showed up and asked if we could help with bike fitting, so Kevin and Kelly did some adjusting for three of the Little Heroes.  Nice to give something back.

Here we go again!

It's October so it's time to get back in the saddle!  My customary Fall chest infection passed fairly quickly this year (last year I lost the whole Fall) and I'm more or less back to normal, just a bit of residual chest tightness and of course my signature cough.

Kevin the super domestique isn't doing as well, sadly - he went down hard a few weeks back and fractured his hip!  He's made a good recovery and should be rolling again next week.

Too bad he missed yesterday's ride, the Kiwanis Sealy Fall Classic, he would have enjoyed it.  Great weather, some new roads, lots of Mules out and pie at every rest stop.  I rolled up at Sealy about 15 minutes before the start but had no problem parking, one of the many advantages of these smaller rides (I think they had about 200 participants).  A brief chat with the gang (and an opportunity to meet several new Mules), a semi-serious attempt by Adam to recruit me for his company's MS150 team (apparently I raised more in 2013 than the entire team) and we were off.

Lee's plan was for the group to stay together at 16-17mph until the second rest stop at 22 miles and then split into pace groups.  Sounded great but of course we're pretty soon cruising along above 20 mph, in part thanks to a tail wind.  Familiar roads for me but not for most of the others, and they enjoyed the smooth surface and pleasant country scenery.

I was able to hing with the group as far as Bernardo, where we turned south into terra incognita for me, but with a head wind I struggled to stay in touch.  Lee was good enough to drop back and keep me company and we had a good chat too.

I was ready for that rest stop when it arrived!  Very nice setting, in a country churchyard on a beautiful morning.  Another benefit of a small group - four portapotties, no waiting - that never happens.  Refreshments included several varieties of pie, and for the volunteers a discrete bar in the back of a pick-up, where bloody marys were on offer - my kind of charitable organization for sure.

We were joined by some friends from the Team In Training group and set out once more en masse.  After a few miles we were back on the route that Kevin and I follow.  I was flagging again but this time one of the Team In Training guys dropped back.  The others were rapidly disappearing in the distance so it was good to have company, particularly when two dogs appeared from the same area that we've seen them in the past.  They looked harmless and friendly enough but turned out to be evil and gave us a good chase.  I nearly hit both of them but managed to stay upright.

We got to the turn for Cat Spring but on this route we go straight ahead, avoiding the Alpe de Sealy section of song and story.  I was very happy to see the final rest stop!  Surprisingly the Mules had stopped too, which was very good of them.  They set out first while I was still watering, then my riding buddy decided to chase them, leaving me to bring up the rear on my own (which was fine, I know the route home).

The last ten miles were tough.  There was a head wind that didn't help but really I was just about exhausted.  I felt drained with about  5 miles to run but remembered I had another gel in my pocket, so for the first time ever I ate it while riding (and I didn't mess with Texas!).  Not sure that it helped, but I found a bit more energy when I got on to the road into Sealy.

Back at the start and a big gang of Mules drinking beer.  There was food on offer so I got a plate (excellent home-made food - sausage, brisket, meatballs!) and a dixie cup of Weedwhacker and sat down with the gang for the debrief.  Considering how little I've been riding, I did OK but still felt pretty bad.  Oh well, it can only get better.