First off, let me state my baby got her driver's license today. I can't believe it. I just can't. The weird thing is, though she is the most responsible person I know on this entire planet, I'm more freaked out about her driving than I ever was about her older sister. It's the baby thing, I know. I'll get over it.
Man, did the wind howl all day long! Which of us riders didn't occasionally peer out a window, shivering inwardly at how awful the impending ride was likely to be? I know I did. And why not? Winds of 20+ mph steady and gusts over 30? What's not to love? The only question was in which direction would it blow at the time of the ride.
We left the church right on time. There were 7 of us... Allen, James, Scott, Galloway, Miller, John T., and me. Whether it was work related, T-ball related, family related, or kidney stone related, riders were missing. We endeavored to persevere.
It didn't take long to feel it - a strong blast from the south the moment we turned into it. Man! My mind was already working this conundrum. On the one hand, it was much too windy for the weaker riders to do individual time trials. On the other hand, the lateral nature of the winds made pace line work very dangerous to newbies. What was the better way to go?
This was the point at which I got a little selfish. I'm leaving on vacation next week and won't get to ride at all. I wanted to be sure to get a good workout tonight, and since I couldn't foresee how things would shake out, I opted to do something different (stupid). On Meridian, north of Highway 60, at the 4-way stop headed up to DNR, I turned right. If you're following that, you know I headed right toward Rottweiler Ridge (okay, they're not Rottweilers, but that had a ring to it). My plan was twofold - check out the current dog situation, and (more importantly) get myself to the ending (starting) line faster. That's right, I was going to time trial out to the start.
The first part went about like I thought. three big and aggressive dogs came out and were all over me. The owner was there, and three times I called out, "Call off your dogs!". I eventually got through and on my way. Important note: though none bit me, one kept diving in obliquely from behind as one might if he was going to bite. The other kept me from breaking loose by herding from the front. It was great teamwork, and I respect that, but even if they wouldn't bite, the odds of getting a group through there every week without someone taking a spill are remote. That's off the table as far as I'm concerned.
The second part, the time trial, fared better. I wanted a hard workout. If the winds favored me, I would get it at a higher speed. If they didn't, I'd get it at a lower speed. Either way, I would get it. So, heading down the long lane to an uncertain fate, I met DfO. He apparently hasn't gotten the memo on the new start and path, but I set him aright. Or at least I tried. Had I not taken this chance path, he would have missed us tonight. We'll see next week.
Anyway, I explained what I was up to, and offered to pull him to the next road where he could meet the guys. I never intended to crush the way out - I still had to ride hard back, after all - so the 23-high I started on shouldn't have been too hard for DfO. I don't know if it was or wasn't. I don't think he stayed on very long, and honestly, I didn't look. I never know what his mindset is, and I had a plan anyway. I was sticking to it.
For the first half of the ride, it was somewhat of a wash with the wind. I can't say that it was holding me back that much, it was more the turbulence I was experiencing. There was a strong lateral component, and with my wheels there was a great deal of buffeting. I stayed down, but it was disruptive.
The second half got much worse, and my pace really fell off. Of course there is a slow altitude gain going this way, and that in itself makes it harder, but I really struggled heading into Bromer. From that point on it was a breeze (hah!), and the pace came back up. My elapsed time was 27:15, or 21.9 mph. And I was proud of it.
I wasn't there long before James, Miller, and John T. rolled in. They'd met DfO, he'd told them I was out there, and they laid out a hard segment or so heading out. "For a while", is the way John T. put it. Shortly after came Galloway and Allen. DfO and Scott had turned earlier and would not be partaking in the festivities. I watched Allen finish the first segment of 337 and knew he was struggling... his cadence was high and he was just crawling into the wind. You had to be out there... it was brutal.
Galloway had no intention of trying to ride too fast, and Allen didn't want to ride fast at all. Galloway coerced him into trying to stay on his wheel, and in short order they left. Poor Allen... it seems wherever he trains, someone puts a hook in his nose and drags. He must wear a sign that says, "beat on me".
Now it was decision time. We would pace line, and everyone could pull as they felt, though a 2-minute interval seemed to be the consensus. The idea was, 2 minutes, unless you wanted more.
John T. started us out, followed by James, Miller, then me. I chose last for a variety of reasons, not the least which being I wanted to see what happened when James came on. By my calculus any one of the three guys in front of me could kill me, especially after my ride out. James was the biggest threat of course, so I didn't want to have some big pull, kill myself, then get dropped before I could recover. Selfish, maybe, but smart.
John T. about dropped me from the jump. It took me a while to get on Miller's wheel, and even then I was struggling at first to maintain it. We were already over 28 mph and climbing. The wind was helping some, but I certainly wouldn't call it a clean tailwind. It was coming from our 8 o'clock position and gusting. That made drafting very difficult, because the best place to be was to the right of the guy in front of you. Unfortunately everyone was hugging the edge of the road. The effect was no one got a good draft.
After a strong pull John T. tapped, and on came James. He did what I thought he would... he took it right back up. 28, 29, 30... and leveled out. He was on perhaps a minute when the unthinkable happened - Miller pulled off to the left. He'd lost the wheel and had lost hope of catching it. It was decision time again... I was struggling to hold my place as it was, and now I had something like 20 yards of space (and that's a far way to go at this speed) to cover to get back, and the strongest guy in the group is up there. There wasn't time to think, there was only time to do. "One of the top three most competitive guys in Lawrence County..."
I did it. Somehow or another, I made it. I wanted to get there before he turned around and saw a gap - I didn't want him to know there ever was a gap. I hoped John T. and Miller were still on back there, but I couldn't look. I had to focus forward, to stay glued to the wheel in front of me. There was no margin of error now.
About 30 seconds after I closed the gap, he slid off to the left. Though he didn't tap, I knew what it meant - I was on. As he eased back, I called out, "I'll ride in the middle to give you more options!" By that I meant I would stay in the middle of the lane. That would allow him to find a draft somewhere behind me more easily.
We powered through Bromer, picked up speed on the other side, and blasted up the first hill. After my 2 minutes were up I tapped, and on came James. Again, he popped it right back up, and we stair-stepped down toward Pumpkin Center. I was feeling better and better - in fact, I was fully recovered by the time of my first pull in Bromer. So after James's pull, I was on. I finished the staircase, pulled through Pumpkin Center, then as the road bent north, my time was up.
This was perfect timing, because the way the wind was blowing, I would have a tailwind to help me jump back on. James powered us to and over the drop into Lost River valley. We caught Allen and Galloway right at the top of the hill. I called, "On your left!", an homage to our new logo. "Show-off!", shouted Galloway in return.
Through the bottoms we sped, James in the lead. About halfway across my turn came up. We'd gotten up to 37+ mph on the way down the hill, James let the speed slowly bleed down to 27, and when I took over I began to build it back up. I knew the left-hand bend before the bridge would be nearly directly into the wind, and I wanted some momentum going into that section.
"I'm off!" What? Again, the unthinkable. James had popped. This was completely self-inflicted, of course. He wasn't on the P5, and his frame was sitting in the breeze the whole ride. He'd also pushed his segments. We'd come too far, and he'd worked too hard to let it end like that.
"Get on. We'll take the hill easier then jump back on it." I urged him to get back on my wheel. We held a steady pace up the hill, then I slowly built the speed back up to 28 or so. I held it a little longer than before, getting through the set of low rollers before handing over for the final climb (hey, I'd had two of the three).
James did great - we topped at 20 mph, though he'd held it above 25 for most of the way. At the top he pulled to the left again, and I couldn't tell if it was a tap-off or riding the fastest line. I figured it was time for me to be on, so I went on up.
Over the top, three or four hard pedals, coast for a 3-count, then hit the pedals again. I took it to 28-29 and held it there. I wasn't going to tap again, no matter what. I figured James would bust by me at the break hill, but he didn't come. I expected it again as we neared the halfway point, but he never came. I finished the ride in 21:13 (official time), a scant 4 seconds from my personal best time, and 7 seconds from the all-time pace line record. James came in a bit later at 21:37.
Miller and John T. had coupled up, and they came in a minute or so later. Galloway came in right on their wheel, followed by Allen a couple of minutes later.
What a ride!
It turns out Scott had held some good speed on the way back over 21 mph. Great job! I'm going to have to ask Galloway again about his ride - I can't seem to remember what he told me. It's late and I'm tired, so I apologize. I'm sure he told me, I just didn't write it down.
Miller and John T. couldn't tell me their times. Both of them own Garmins, but nothing, nada. It was fast is all I know.
Allen said he did well for 7 miles, then fell off. Not bad for a guy who has ridden 5 of the last 5 days.
I did a little calculating. My ride totals:
21:13 for 10 - 28.2 mph
49:00 for 20 - 24.5 mph
THAT makes the workout an unqualified success. If you take into account my heart rate info, I was at 95% of max in portions of the ride. Yup, that works.
Here are the numbers.
We ran 3 miles after. I almost got out of it, but Allen was adamant about it. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I was even running with Miller and Scott, that is until they busted it at the end. For the record - my Garmin said I was under 5:30 pace at some point (kick anyone?). I was left in the dust by some guy who said 5:40 "is pretty much my max speed".
Disagree.
Wendy's was great! Sorry for those that missed, we missed you. I'll miss you all next week when I am in San Francisco. I'm betting the weather will be perfect, too...
Man, did the wind howl all day long! Which of us riders didn't occasionally peer out a window, shivering inwardly at how awful the impending ride was likely to be? I know I did. And why not? Winds of 20+ mph steady and gusts over 30? What's not to love? The only question was in which direction would it blow at the time of the ride.
We left the church right on time. There were 7 of us... Allen, James, Scott, Galloway, Miller, John T., and me. Whether it was work related, T-ball related, family related, or kidney stone related, riders were missing. We endeavored to persevere.
It didn't take long to feel it - a strong blast from the south the moment we turned into it. Man! My mind was already working this conundrum. On the one hand, it was much too windy for the weaker riders to do individual time trials. On the other hand, the lateral nature of the winds made pace line work very dangerous to newbies. What was the better way to go?
This was the point at which I got a little selfish. I'm leaving on vacation next week and won't get to ride at all. I wanted to be sure to get a good workout tonight, and since I couldn't foresee how things would shake out, I opted to do something different (stupid). On Meridian, north of Highway 60, at the 4-way stop headed up to DNR, I turned right. If you're following that, you know I headed right toward Rottweiler Ridge (okay, they're not Rottweilers, but that had a ring to it). My plan was twofold - check out the current dog situation, and (more importantly) get myself to the ending (starting) line faster. That's right, I was going to time trial out to the start.
The first part went about like I thought. three big and aggressive dogs came out and were all over me. The owner was there, and three times I called out, "Call off your dogs!". I eventually got through and on my way. Important note: though none bit me, one kept diving in obliquely from behind as one might if he was going to bite. The other kept me from breaking loose by herding from the front. It was great teamwork, and I respect that, but even if they wouldn't bite, the odds of getting a group through there every week without someone taking a spill are remote. That's off the table as far as I'm concerned.
The second part, the time trial, fared better. I wanted a hard workout. If the winds favored me, I would get it at a higher speed. If they didn't, I'd get it at a lower speed. Either way, I would get it. So, heading down the long lane to an uncertain fate, I met DfO. He apparently hasn't gotten the memo on the new start and path, but I set him aright. Or at least I tried. Had I not taken this chance path, he would have missed us tonight. We'll see next week.
Anyway, I explained what I was up to, and offered to pull him to the next road where he could meet the guys. I never intended to crush the way out - I still had to ride hard back, after all - so the 23-high I started on shouldn't have been too hard for DfO. I don't know if it was or wasn't. I don't think he stayed on very long, and honestly, I didn't look. I never know what his mindset is, and I had a plan anyway. I was sticking to it.
For the first half of the ride, it was somewhat of a wash with the wind. I can't say that it was holding me back that much, it was more the turbulence I was experiencing. There was a strong lateral component, and with my wheels there was a great deal of buffeting. I stayed down, but it was disruptive.
The second half got much worse, and my pace really fell off. Of course there is a slow altitude gain going this way, and that in itself makes it harder, but I really struggled heading into Bromer. From that point on it was a breeze (hah!), and the pace came back up. My elapsed time was 27:15, or 21.9 mph. And I was proud of it.
I wasn't there long before James, Miller, and John T. rolled in. They'd met DfO, he'd told them I was out there, and they laid out a hard segment or so heading out. "For a while", is the way John T. put it. Shortly after came Galloway and Allen. DfO and Scott had turned earlier and would not be partaking in the festivities. I watched Allen finish the first segment of 337 and knew he was struggling... his cadence was high and he was just crawling into the wind. You had to be out there... it was brutal.
Galloway had no intention of trying to ride too fast, and Allen didn't want to ride fast at all. Galloway coerced him into trying to stay on his wheel, and in short order they left. Poor Allen... it seems wherever he trains, someone puts a hook in his nose and drags. He must wear a sign that says, "beat on me".
Now it was decision time. We would pace line, and everyone could pull as they felt, though a 2-minute interval seemed to be the consensus. The idea was, 2 minutes, unless you wanted more.
John T. started us out, followed by James, Miller, then me. I chose last for a variety of reasons, not the least which being I wanted to see what happened when James came on. By my calculus any one of the three guys in front of me could kill me, especially after my ride out. James was the biggest threat of course, so I didn't want to have some big pull, kill myself, then get dropped before I could recover. Selfish, maybe, but smart.
John T. about dropped me from the jump. It took me a while to get on Miller's wheel, and even then I was struggling at first to maintain it. We were already over 28 mph and climbing. The wind was helping some, but I certainly wouldn't call it a clean tailwind. It was coming from our 8 o'clock position and gusting. That made drafting very difficult, because the best place to be was to the right of the guy in front of you. Unfortunately everyone was hugging the edge of the road. The effect was no one got a good draft.
After a strong pull John T. tapped, and on came James. He did what I thought he would... he took it right back up. 28, 29, 30... and leveled out. He was on perhaps a minute when the unthinkable happened - Miller pulled off to the left. He'd lost the wheel and had lost hope of catching it. It was decision time again... I was struggling to hold my place as it was, and now I had something like 20 yards of space (and that's a far way to go at this speed) to cover to get back, and the strongest guy in the group is up there. There wasn't time to think, there was only time to do. "One of the top three most competitive guys in Lawrence County..."
I did it. Somehow or another, I made it. I wanted to get there before he turned around and saw a gap - I didn't want him to know there ever was a gap. I hoped John T. and Miller were still on back there, but I couldn't look. I had to focus forward, to stay glued to the wheel in front of me. There was no margin of error now.
About 30 seconds after I closed the gap, he slid off to the left. Though he didn't tap, I knew what it meant - I was on. As he eased back, I called out, "I'll ride in the middle to give you more options!" By that I meant I would stay in the middle of the lane. That would allow him to find a draft somewhere behind me more easily.
We powered through Bromer, picked up speed on the other side, and blasted up the first hill. After my 2 minutes were up I tapped, and on came James. Again, he popped it right back up, and we stair-stepped down toward Pumpkin Center. I was feeling better and better - in fact, I was fully recovered by the time of my first pull in Bromer. So after James's pull, I was on. I finished the staircase, pulled through Pumpkin Center, then as the road bent north, my time was up.
This was perfect timing, because the way the wind was blowing, I would have a tailwind to help me jump back on. James powered us to and over the drop into Lost River valley. We caught Allen and Galloway right at the top of the hill. I called, "On your left!", an homage to our new logo. "Show-off!", shouted Galloway in return.
Through the bottoms we sped, James in the lead. About halfway across my turn came up. We'd gotten up to 37+ mph on the way down the hill, James let the speed slowly bleed down to 27, and when I took over I began to build it back up. I knew the left-hand bend before the bridge would be nearly directly into the wind, and I wanted some momentum going into that section.
"I'm off!" What? Again, the unthinkable. James had popped. This was completely self-inflicted, of course. He wasn't on the P5, and his frame was sitting in the breeze the whole ride. He'd also pushed his segments. We'd come too far, and he'd worked too hard to let it end like that.
"Get on. We'll take the hill easier then jump back on it." I urged him to get back on my wheel. We held a steady pace up the hill, then I slowly built the speed back up to 28 or so. I held it a little longer than before, getting through the set of low rollers before handing over for the final climb (hey, I'd had two of the three).
James did great - we topped at 20 mph, though he'd held it above 25 for most of the way. At the top he pulled to the left again, and I couldn't tell if it was a tap-off or riding the fastest line. I figured it was time for me to be on, so I went on up.
Over the top, three or four hard pedals, coast for a 3-count, then hit the pedals again. I took it to 28-29 and held it there. I wasn't going to tap again, no matter what. I figured James would bust by me at the break hill, but he didn't come. I expected it again as we neared the halfway point, but he never came. I finished the ride in 21:13 (official time), a scant 4 seconds from my personal best time, and 7 seconds from the all-time pace line record. James came in a bit later at 21:37.
Miller and John T. had coupled up, and they came in a minute or so later. Galloway came in right on their wheel, followed by Allen a couple of minutes later.
What a ride!
It turns out Scott had held some good speed on the way back over 21 mph. Great job! I'm going to have to ask Galloway again about his ride - I can't seem to remember what he told me. It's late and I'm tired, so I apologize. I'm sure he told me, I just didn't write it down.
Miller and John T. couldn't tell me their times. Both of them own Garmins, but nothing, nada. It was fast is all I know.
Allen said he did well for 7 miles, then fell off. Not bad for a guy who has ridden 5 of the last 5 days.
I did a little calculating. My ride totals:
21:13 for 10 - 28.2 mph
49:00 for 20 - 24.5 mph
THAT makes the workout an unqualified success. If you take into account my heart rate info, I was at 95% of max in portions of the ride. Yup, that works.
Here are the numbers.
We ran 3 miles after. I almost got out of it, but Allen was adamant about it. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I was even running with Miller and Scott, that is until they busted it at the end. For the record - my Garmin said I was under 5:30 pace at some point (kick anyone?). I was left in the dust by some guy who said 5:40 "is pretty much my max speed".
Disagree.
Wendy's was great! Sorry for those that missed, we missed you. I'll miss you all next week when I am in San Francisco. I'm betting the weather will be perfect, too...
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