On St.Crispin's Day

"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 -

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

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

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

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

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

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 -