Felting

Thursday, 25 October

It's a full moon, so you'll just have to pardon the odd digression here.

Has anybody ever felted anything? (Get your mind out of middle school.) I figured the next step in my hat making is to learn how to felt. Through the felting process, a knitted item completely changes texture (shrinks) so that it no longer looks like a piece of twisted and tortured yarn but a smooth, tight, wooly piece of fabric. Turns out the process is not rocket science, just a bit mysterious and not quite certain, which I guess explains the thrill.

I wonder if I can felt pieces of the antique (ancient, decrepit) Pendleton blanket I have. It has bald spots and holes and really has outlived its life as a blanket (I remember that my grandparents used it in its early old age to protect apples in their shed all winter so it's probably 75 years old). If I can bear to cut it up, can I make felted placemats or bowls (for potpourri, not cornflakes) or maybe scarves or a table runner?

Felting websites cover felting a knitted item and carded wool (lacking sheep in my backyard, I'll have to settle for already crafted items). In a touch of the bizarre, I found one blogger who felted her cat's fur so that she'd have some part of him to treasure always. I understand the sentiment, but somehow the end result seems a little....gross.

All I have to do to felt a hat is make one that's 25% too big, run it through the hot-water wash cycle in my washing machine a few times, rinse, wring, and shape to dry. The mysterious part is you don't know how any particular yarn will break down in this process, and you don't know how much any given item will shrink. They say that it produces a lot of lint--and it's addictive. What else am I going to do on a rainy weekend when I've had enough of riding my bike through puddles besides pummel a poor hat in the washing machine? Stay tuned....

My name is Phrehdde

Tuesday, 23 October

I thought about trying to find a ride partner for a little post-work spin this afternoon, but it's a good thing I didn't: everyone I know would've been mortified to ride with me. See, when I left for work this morning, it was dark and cold-ish. You know, time for tights and calf-high fleece socks and all those creature-comfort sorts of things. Who cares that the shorts are 5 years old when you wear tights too? I was pretty proud of myself for remembering a short-sleeved jersey for the balmy afternoon temps that were promised.

The thermometer on my local website said it was 75 degrees when I was packing up to leave work. Nix the tights. Um, are these shorts even decent? (At least I shaved my legs recently!) Can I roll down my socks around my ankles so maybe the wild pattern doesn't show too much? Oh, that short-sleeved jersey is pink (to match my Axley/Gin Optics Stungunners, of course), and the shorts were once red, white, blue, and black. Argh!

I saw lots of folks out there, but thankfully no one felt obliged to ride with me and comment on my wardrobe. It's no wonder the ex-teammates who passed didn't even acknowledge my existence (but most of them don't wave or nod even when you're wearing the same jersey). The Husky cycling team was about as randomly attired as I was. Clint was Mr. Stylish in full team kit from his wrists to his ankles. I passed one TGHer in team colors down to her gloves. I was in the last 5 miles of my ride before I found a worse fred than me; he still had his dress socks on.

But who cares!!! It was a glorious afternoon to ride a bike. It was the kind of day that Argentius claims we didn't have any of all summer long. The kind of day when PruDog could've lost 40 pounds in a 2.5-hour ride. It would've been a gift any time of year; a full month after the autumnal equinox, it was a thrill. I didn't even mind riding the rain bike....too much.

(I have surely jinxed myself and will no doubt be swimming my way to work tomorrow morning.)

Press release

Wednesday, 17 October (updated 22 October)

SEATTLE – The First Rate Mortgage Cycling Team is pleased to announce the expansion and development of its women’s squad for 2008. With returning riders and new recruits, the FRM women’s team now totals 14 female athletes in categories 2-4.

The first contingent of women to be added to the team roster hail from the west side of Puget Sound. Four of them pulled off a recent racing triumph by clinching second place in the masters women B division at the state team time trial championship in Elma in August. Brenda Green, Lisa Lund, Kathi McMahon, and Tonia Schmidt signed up with FRM after the official Meet the Team Ride in mid-September. These cat 3 and 4 women saw lots of racing action in 2007, from Ice Breaker to TST to Methow and Walla Walla. Also coming to FRM from Bainbridge are long-time, part-time racer Julie Houck and experienced triathlete Nora Masters, who has a few bike races on her resume as well.

Perhaps more familiar to Seattle racers are women who made the move from other local teams. Zana Faulkner finished the 2007 season in first place in the WSBA cat 4 women’s rider rankings. Jitka (“I like mud”) Cole is still racing strong, with the cyclocross season in full swing. Sile Kiernan, who whisked herself off to the ER (with a broken collarbone) before the officials knew she had crashed at Redmond Derby, brings the number of Irish nationals on the team to a lucky three. And Joanne Green comes to FRM with a bunch of top-5 finishes in 2007, including a win in the Nooksack criterium.

Just starting out in bike racing (but no stranger to bikes) is the newest racer on the team, Robin Secrist, who is making the transition to bike racing after winning the 2007 Seafair Triathlon (and other events). Donna Peters and Sara Graham will continue to ride for FRM, and Martha Walsh returns to the team after a year in another jersey.

The first order of business in 2008 will be securing some upgrade points for cat 4s ready to transition to cat 3. And the opportunities for cat 3 women in Washington in 2008 are exciting. In addition to a separate BARR ranking, this category should see separate scoring at key women’s races during the season and maybe even separate races (from the women cat 1-2s) by the end of the season. The cat 4 race series will be bigger and better and more publicized in 2008 and will provide excitement and motivation for riders at this level. The team also has an eye on regional stage races and other challenging events to round out the season.

The FRM women are looking forward to camaraderie and competition in 2008. It’s a great group where everyone has valuable experience and insights to share, and everyone can learn from everyone else. Watch for the FRM team colors at every event on the 2008 race calendar, from Mason Lake to masters nationals!

Good luck, Dwan

Monday, 15 October

The designer of my favorite bike starts a regimen of chemotherapy tomorrow, soon to be augmented with radiation. This follows a summer of equally harsh treatment for the person who "sold" the bike to us. Sometimes bad things strike in nice places, and sometimes lightning strikes twice. I'm sending my love to a couple of special guys in Eugene....I wish I could send hugs as easily as text messages. No doubt in my mind which are more important.

Reading material

Friday, 12 October

Thanks to my teammate Keith, who is picking up the old kitchen cabinet today.

Thanks to folks in Florida, California, Massachusetts, and Illinois who paid enough for my orange jerseys, etc., to keep me in generous coffee money through the winter.

Now I just need warm dry weather and lots of time to finish painting the new fence, and some magic way to get the red stain off the concrete floor in my laundry room without inducing a crippling wrist injury that would force me to retire from hat-making. (A girl can wish, can't she??)

There are a couple new cycling blogs/websites to keep your eye on for entertainment through the winter months:

http://www.bicyclenorthwest.com/

http://blog.seattlepi.nwsource.com/velocity/

Free to a good home

Tuesday, 9 October

I'm trying to clean house. I can't do it in the spring because I'm too busy racing, so what better time than the autumn when suddenly I'm spending a whole lot more time here and discovering what a cluttered place I live in. I managed to find happy homes (well, at least paying homes) for almost all my orange team clothing (thanks, Argentius!). And I found something that I think you really need for storing your helmets or racing shoes or rolls of bar tape or glasses or water bottles or whatever.

This is a great kitchen cabinet, built by a real cabinet maker in Woodinville. It's made out of vintage plywood (real wood, not sawdust and glue). It's 36 inches wide x 12.5 inches deep x 14 inches high. The hinges and latches work great, and the doors hang and swing straight.

I've tried putting it out by the street with a "free" sign, but the weather has been so marginal the last couple of weeks that I haven't been able to leave it out there long enough to find a new home for it. So I think you really need this cabinet in your garage or basement. I'll even deliver it in NE Seattle, or you can come by and pick it up.

The next option is to let my 13-year-old niece go at it with a sledge hammer, and that seems like a waste. It's calling your name.....

Sweet repeat, sweet victory

Sunday, 7 October

Way to go, Michael! Mr. Alpine Ibex Emde won the Furnace Creek 508 for the second year in a row with a time of 27 hours 32 minutes. He averaged 18.46 mph. The guy in second place was about 1.5 hours behind him. Truly incredible.

Not all the results are in yet (meaning, not all the riders are in yet), but you can find 'em here.

Late addition: Karen Armstrong, also of Spokane, was the first woman to finish the 508. Her time was 36:58, and she was THREE HOURS ahead of second place. What's in the water over there in Spokane??? Way to go Karen!

Even later addition: I just realized the key to success must be that awesome Emde Sports coaching!!

Crazier than me

Friday, 5 October

Tomorrow morning, some 201 hardy souls will set out on the Furnace Creek 508. That's 508 miles of bike racing...without stopping much. Some folks do it in 4-person teams (or 8-person, I guess, if you count the 4-tandem team), some in 2-person teams, and some do it solo. Like last year's winner, Michael Emde.

The Ring of Fire TT I've done twice now is sort of like barely getting your toe wet in this sport of ultra cycling. When you do OK at 12 hours, though, they think you'd be great at 48 hours or whatever it takes to ride 508 miles in the California desert. I'm not (yet?) convinced of that, so I'll be riding my rain bike on a sociable and short ride with my new team tomorrow but thinking especially of these 508 competitors that I've raced with this year in Washington and Oregon:

Michael Emde
Karen Armstrong
George Thomas
Hugh Gapay
Michael Wolfe
Greg Geser

If you don't know any of these names after Emde, you should; they are all truly incredible and inspirational athletes. Michael Wolfe has probably raced his HPV more miles than I've ridden my road bike this year. Try googling "George Thomas RAAM."

You can find your favorite rider (they've all got numbers and "totems") and then follow their progress on the 508 website:

http://www.the508.com/2007web/index.html

Send positive thoughts their way when you take a shower or go to bed or get up in the morning and realize that they are all still out there on their bikes. It's kind of amazing how this is part of the same sport that's holding national championships at the LA track right now!

More physics...and haiku

Thursday, 4 October

ROYGBIV.

That much high school physics I do remember. Thanks, Mr. Folsom, for helping me always remember the colors of the rainbow: RedOrangeYellowGreenBlueIndigoViolet.

The rainbow on my afternoon commute was beautiful. For a while, there were two, and then one doubled. But like most rainbows, this one came at a price: I got drenched. Is it April already?

Ominous clouds loom
Rain tumbles down and soaks me
Sunshine warms my soul

Physics and floor pumps

Tuesday, 2 October

I admit I didn't do so well at high school physics--and that class was a long time ago. I'm not sure this subject was covered, though.

When I use a floor pump, it seems that I cannot inflate my tires to more pounds per square inch than pounds of my body weight. Even if I put all my weight on my hands and take my feet off the ground, I still cannot put enough air in the tires for a TT (and barely enough for commuting). Does this reflect how much I weigh, or how little upper-body strength I have?

I know all you 160-pound guys have never encountered this problem, so I'm sure you'll have lots of speculation to offer. Just don't blame me when I can't be a self-sufficient cyclist.

Exchanging recipes

Wednesday, 26 September

OK, Allison started things off with her recipe for raw ravioli. It must be warmer in Pullman than it is in Seattle, because I really needed soup tonight. Here's my homemade recipe du jour, which is not raw but features no added fat:

Split a delicata squash in half the long way, scoop out the seeds, and place the two halves face down on a baking sheet. Bake for about an hour at about 375. Let cool.

Scoop the squash out of the rind/peel and place in a blender or food processor. Add vegetable stock, chicken stock, water, or any combination of these and process until it's a soup-like consistency. (If you want a zing to your soup, add a couple of minced garlic cloves at this stage.)

Transfer this concoction to a big saucepan. Peel and grate a parsnip (you know, one of those things that looks like a beige carrot on steroids) and a carrot, and add those to the soup. Let simmer for about 15 minutes. Add 4-5 chopped green onions and whatever fresh herbs you have in the garden, along with enough ground pepper to give it more zing and a little bit of salt. Continue simmering for another 15 minutes. You may have to add more water/stock or milk to keep it from getting too thick.

The squash and the parsnip are sweet, and the pepper and garlic make a nice warm contrast. One big delicata squash made enough for two big bowls of soup. With a green salad and a little raw gouda from Ferndale, this made a nice autumn dinner.

Full moon or weird 'hood?

Tuesday, 25 September

When I walked home from the gym one night last week, a car drove slowly past me in the first block after I left the parking lot. Then, while I was waiting for the light to cross Lake City Way, it came by again, honked when it was about 100 feet away, and went past me very slowly. I was wearing shortish gym shorts, but lots of fleecy layers on top and running shoes (not 4-inch heels) and certainly could not have misled anyone about my motive for standing on that street corner.

Tonight was weird too. There was the couple sorting squashed aluminum cans on a sidewalk and loading them into plastic bags (not sure why you need to sort cans). This was in front of one of Bill Pierre's many back lots, nowhere near anyone's house or recycling bin. There were two guys pruning shrubs and trees, in the dark, in September (you usually prune in the winter). There's the house with the skateboard park in the side yard and the shopping cart in the front yard, even though there's no grocery store within a half mile. There was the guy out of your worst nightmares with stringy grey hair and bundled up dirty clothes coming out of the small little park that's mostly a ravine around Thornton Creek. I have never walked through there, and if he's what I'd see, I'll stick to the long way around on the street, thank you very much. The 20-pound cat with the 2-inch tail didn't come out to see me tonight; he'll chase you down the street if you don't stop to pet him.

I did find 6 cents and had a nice little conversation with a guy who's remodeling his house and was admiring his handiwork from the street while smoking a cigarette.

Is it the full moon?

HP Challenge

Sunday, 23 September
(updates added 25 September)

Last time I went to a cycling event called the HP Challenge, it was the biggest-money bike race in the country. And it was only for women. And no, there was no separate cat 3 or cat 4 race. I didn't race, but I stood in feed zones in some pretty spectacular country: Stanley and Galena Pass come to mind. I also met some pretty amazing people. I know of only one woman who did that race who's still racing, and she lives in Pullman.

Today's HP Challenge was put on by the Cascade Bicycle Club. It started in Packwood, went about 15 miles down SR 12 to Randle, then turned south on forest service roads and eventually wound its way up through the Mt. St. Helens blast zone to the Windy Ridge lookout. The high point of the ride is only at about 4100 feet, but the road rolls so much that the total elevation gain over the ride was probably more like 6000 (update: Garmin says 7755). There are some amazing trees in the Gifford Pinchot forest, but it's the 12 or so miles of road through the blast zone that are jaw-dropping. I had to keep reminding my tandem partner to keep his eyes on the road and his hands on the brakes as he was trying to point things out while the rollercoaster road dropped away from us (whoever thinks you can't backseat drive on a tandem has never ridden with me--downhill!).

My Mt. St. Helens guidebook says that "Windy Ridge is possibly one of the most breathtaking panoramas in the world." In addition to the crater, lava domes, and steam plumes, we were supposed to see Mt. Adams towering to the east. The clouds were hanging too low today: we could see just a bit of the red ridges on the east flank of the mountain but no "breathtaking panorama" from that particular spot. And the spot is aptly named. In spite of the abundant stock of food Cascade provided for us there, the temps were estimated in the low 40s (update: Garmin says average temp on the day was 38.6F) with a steady wind, and there was no lingering with the hope of a better view of the mountain. I schlepped the camera up and back, but it was too cold to get it out (take off jacket to find jersey pocket, take off gloves to find camera, take camera out of bag...you get the "picture").

That road through the blast zone is amazing both for itself and for what it transports you through. It is perched along the edges of a steep ridge and follows the contours of the hills, making it roundabout and very rollercoaster-like. I'm not an engineer, but I sure appreciate where those folks can put a road. It transports you through a land of ash and pumice and trees laid over like toothpicks--past tucks and pockets in the terrain that were sheltered in the blast and now seem verdant green. Some of the hillsides today were raging red and yellow and orange as the leaves on the huckleberries and scrub maples turned color--colors you only see on ornamental landscaping here in town. And since there are no trees to block your view, you look east (I think) at a huge expanse of forest and river drainages. Truly spectacular. Priceless, even.
Since Cayuse Pass is missing huge chunks of roadway that disappeared in the 18"-of-rain-in-24-hours storm last November, there is no good way to get to Packwood. Our route took us through Eatonville, and I now have a new bakery on my list of places to stop on road trips in that direction. Anything tastes good after 110 miles on a bike, but the blueberry muffins fresh out of the oven were luscious. Further commercial endorsement: my Stungunners performed flawlessly again today. Put 'em on, forget they're there, ride all day in arctic blasts with nary a tear. I guess while I'm promoting PruDog's efforts, I should mention that Ohop is very near to that bakery in Eatonville.... And of course I would be remiss not to mention the great performance by our Co-Motion Macchiato. We are getting more and more confident about how it handles on all kinds of terrain, which means more and more fun. (Update: Garmin says our max speed was 146.5 mph. See how fast you can go on a Co-Motion!!)

When we signed up for this ride, OAD and I figured we'd be tired of the tandem after Ring of Fire and would do this one on our single bikes. But the more we thought about it, the more the vain, snooty bike racers in us came out, and it seemed like it might be fun to pass a lot of people on a long, relentless climb...on a tandem. Oh, we were so right about that. :)

Passport

Friday, 20 September

Free at last, free at last. Free to move about the world. It took just over three months, but my passport renewal finally came through. Time to visit the in-laws!

My passport has a chip, my cat has a chip....I don't think I want to ask what's next.

Post-ride coffee

Sunday, 16 September

If you've been bad and not eaten anything or drunk anything on a 35-mile ride, and then stop for 2 cups of coffee and a pure-white-flour-and-sugar scone, is the coffee (on an empty stomach) likely to exacerbate symptoms of dehydration? A nutrition-free 35-mile ride is no biggie for me (notice that I did not report this year on what or how much I did--or didn't--eat during the 12-hour TT), but having some coffee and then feeling like my head is detached was a new experience. Who needs beer? Don't give me the old bad-research line that says coffee isn't hydration (they threw out that hooey last year--liquid is liquid). I'm just curious about the odd caffeine-on-an-empty-stomach kick.

Moving on to less-hyphenated writing, have you noticed that fall is here? The cat has reappeared from his summer prowls and wants to sleep on the bed all day, except when he's begging for more food. He's eaten more in the last week than he did in the last two months! And the green beans in the garden just poof! quit making more green beans. But yummy yummy, the delicata squash are in. Tonight was the first batch of delicata soup of the year, and I got an idea for a tasty variation. Recipe to follow, if it works.

And have you noticed that when you park your rain bike for 3 months over the summer, it gets out of shape, loses fitness, and refuses to go more than 14 mph when you take it out for its first spin?

In the email inbox

Friday, 14 September


This was a nice closing sentiment in a message I received at work this morning:

Good luck on your everything.

Hope it applies to your weekend!

In the mail

Thursday, 13 September

Well, if almost nobody got excited enough to comment about 200 miles on the back of a tandem or my new Axley eyewear collection or even eating totally local and organic, this will be a real snoozer. You might not be able to tell from the preceding sentence, but I've been busy lately. Hats for the PruPuppies, hats for the newborn daughter of a friend of my husband (pink and lime were the colors they asked for; I chose some super-bright yarns, which were fun to work with).

Today I mailed a baby blanket to a racing couple in Olympia and some hats to folks in Hood River. The cool thing(s) about those last two hats are: (1) The yarn was a prize at Ring of Fire--what other promoters do you know who tailor their prize list to suit the interests of their competitors? (2) The yarn came from sheep raised not 50 miles from the Ring of Fire venue. (3) The yarn is going back to Oregon to somebody who probably rides right past the Imperial Ranch on half his training rides. I might have to go stop in some time. At the ranch, I mean.

Okay, I'm not contributing anything here to boost us out of our collective blogging doldrums. Allison and Ted are promoting a cross race in Pullman, which is almost enough to get me to try cross racing (but not quite, sorry). I made some interesting observations about friendly and oblivious riders and their respective teams on the trail on Tuesday night, but the team I'd diss has already blasted me once here, so I'll refrain.

One last thought. I'm not sure how I could possibly have mustered such a big smile at this point in our epic ride last Saturday. It must be because Tina has such a great smile herself, and when she grins at you and points the camera, you're inclined to grin back. Thanks for the photo!

Accidental national champion

Sunday, 9 September

Here is my view for the 12 long hours of Ring of Fire. This was early in the morning, before the salt patches appeared. His race report is here. And there are some pictures of us on Kenji's blog here.

Watching this for 12 hours while co-pedaling our tandem earned me a 2007 national champion title. Ring of Fire was the 12-hour national championship for the UltraMarathon Cycling Association. We also set a tandem course record at ROF (2 miles would've been a tandem course record), and my 2006 women's record still stands. A great weekend for stroking the ego.

Among the many wonderful features of this course are the varied views of Mt. Hood. When you start in the morning, it's a little peak off in the distance. At different spots, you can also see Jefferson and Adams. Then you climb through the trees for a while...a long while...and then a blissful descent and Hood pops into sight, completely dominating your view.

You also ride past many farms outside Dufur and Tygh Valley. Some are what you'd call "going concerns." Others, like this one, are remnants from another time.

Tandem FUN

Saturday, 8 September

Tandems aren't everyone's idea of fun, and most people would probably see 12 hours on one as punishment for some horrible crime and not fun at all.

But the only way I could think of to improve upon the fun I had at the 12-hour Ring of Fire TT in 2006 was to do it this year on the tandem. O.A.D. was agreeable, although I think he secretly wanted (note past tense) to do the 24-hour version instead.

The course was just about the same as 2006 (they replaced the awful highway climb with a back road through farms--with the same elevation gain), and the weather was better (clear but cooler). Our goal was to beat my single-bike distance of 183 miles, and 200 miles seemed like a nice round number. The specific goals you set in bike racing never happen exactly as you plan, but we did end up riding 200 miles. 16.67 mph for 12 hours. Slow, you say? Factor in 13,500 feet of climbing on the tandem, short stops for various reasons, and you'd better think 16.67 mph over 12 hours is cruising.

Last year I had no issues with saddle, feet, or stomach, but my back was shooting pains down by legs by the last 50 miles. This year was just about the exact opposite. My back got tired but didn't rebel (thanks, Erik Moen!), my feet got hot spots, and I had stomach cramps for a couple of hours. The biggest drawback to riding tandem is the lack of choice in how you sit on the saddle. You can't fidget or get off the saddle for even half a pedal stroke. And eventually you pay the price. But I daresay that nobody's "private parts" would be "issue"-free after 12 hours on any saddle.

Proof of the "be careful what you wish for adage": one of my hopes for this weekend was to get to captain our tandem. When we hit mile 200, O.A.D. had to get off the bike and just about passed out right there on the side of the road. Amazingly, Mike R, the other Seattle rider in the 12-hour race, rolled up in his car. (His race ended after 114 miles because of flu symptoms.) He gave my captain a ride back to the finish (7 miles), leaving me and the bike out there at twilight in the middle of irrigated fields with voracious mosquitoes. Rather than stand there and hope somebody would pick me up before the bugs sucked me dry, I climbed on the bike and rode it in. Remember that (1) I'd just ridden 200 miles without steering and (2) a tandem is a big, awkward bike to drive. The first 1/4 mile was wobbly but after that it went well. The saddle was only about a centimeter too high, but the bars (especially the drops) were out in the next county, so riding in the drops down the 4-mile descent was, um, interesting. But I got to captain a (stokerless) tandem.

Postrace fun: You've got to read some of the live updates on the ROF website. Promoters Terri and George sit at the start/finish line in front of the Imperial Lodge and add running commentary between riders coming by to check in. George got night duty this year and was having a great time doing "interviews" with riders--and deleting much of what he wrote before it got posted. Terri and George put on amazing races here in Oregon, and they have such great one-on-one rapport with their riders that we didn't even have to wear numbers. Come race with them sometime!!

Shameless product promos: Somewhere around mile 120, we were up on top of the plateau out here in eastern Oregon, and the white Cytomax van came flying down the road in the opposite direction. Figuring it had to be Kenji and Tina, we both waved. The van did a U-turn, and they came back to chat. Everybody always asks what O.A.D. and I talked about for 12 hours, and this conversation was by far the longest we had all day. It was great to see familiar faces out there! And of course I have to mention the Axley Stungunners again. These are ultra eyewear. I put 'em on in the morning and never thought about them again. My eyes never got watery, even on the 15-mile descent. In spite of sunscreen and sweat, they didn't slip and I never had to push 'em back up my nose. They didn't rub the tops of my ears, and they didn't interrupt my vision. They were perfect. What else can I say? Thanks, PruDog!

Boring ol' pictures to follow. And probably Garmin data too. We're off to raft the Deschutes today!

N.F.B.O. *

Wednesday, 5 September

When I read the pre-release hype for these new Axleys, I have to admit that I figured they were just not intended for old girls. After all, "Stungunner" doesn't have the ring of something with huge marketing appeal in my demographic. And having to be defensive about "sweet pink trim"? I live by "sweet pink trim."

So when I had to stop by the local Axley USA office today to drop off some StokedHats for PruPuppy 1.0 and PruPuppy 2.0, I was in for a big surprise. As soon as I put on the Stungunner, I knew it was a great match. They are light, comfortable, and in spite of their incredible hulk appearance, they really fit my face. There is enough of a wrap effect to the shape of the lenses that the sides of the frames--even the sides of the "full orbitals"--disappear out of sight. The lenses in mine have a green tint, which made Mr. Axley look a little sickly and sort of flatten out the contrasts outdoors, but they were plenty dark for riding on a sunny summer afternoon.

There are two more features of this model that you seldom find in cycling eyewear. The first is peripheral vision. When you do a little head check to make sure you won't get clobbered by a garbage truck if you try to dodge that pothole, most glasses give you lousy peripheral vision because some part of the frame gets in the way and you can't see the truck around a few millimeters of plastic frame. Not so the Stungunner. Don't ask me how, but you get a clear shot when you turn your head the littlest bit and look back.

The second is eye and sinus protection. No, nobody advertises that their eyewear protects your sinuses. But if it doesn't, then on a long descent or a cold ride, your nose gets that perpetual drip. And without good eye protection from the wind, this problem only gets worse. Alright, so it was 75 degrees on my first ride with these babies, and the Burke Gilman Trail lacks any significant descents, but I could still tell that a great defense shield was in place.

Going into this afternoon, I was facing some tough decisions about my big race on Saturday. If only the answer to "which shorts?" becomes as crystal clear as "which glasses?" The Stungunner is * Not For Boys Only * and I might just have to wear my pink jersey to tone with the "sweet pink trim."

Cheery glasses for a dreary day

Tuesday, 4 September

My new Axley Ginnys with the pink/red lenses were perfect for the dark foggy misty morning today. Any opthalmologist will tell you that you should wear eye protection (a.k.a. glasses) any time you're on a bike, and with these, I've got something to turn to when the bright sunshine goes away. The fastest guy at Eugene Celebration told me he loves pink lenses for his long rides through the forests around Mt. Hood to help pick up the contrasts under the tree canopy. And the Ginnys passed my test on the ride this morning: most of the time I was not even aware I had them on. I think they're gonna see a lot of off-season time on the bike....

Ditched

Tuesday, 4 September

The Eugene Celebration stage race is a funny thing. The fields are always small, but they typically include some of the strongest riders in the region. And not necessarily the same folks you've been racing against all season. So the racing is hard, the outcome is not predictable, and there's nowhere to hide.

This year's celebration was a flattish road race on Saturday, TT and crit on Sunday, and a hilly road race on Monday. There were about 20 in the combined women's field at the start--same size as the pro-1-2 men's field! The first road race was a pack finish, I won the TT, one rider got away in the crit to take the GC lead away from me by 3 seconds, and then I had a brief moment of extracurricular activity in Monday's RR that didn't do me any favors and I ended up slipping to 6th overall.

About 15 miles into Monday's race, the road starts to get a little bit like a roller coaster. There's one sharp downill left hander that's tricky on the tandem but not bad on the single bike if you take it at less than the 25 mph the chief referee recommended. I was at the back of the front group going around that bend. The road immediately goes uphill, I shifted, the chain shifted and then jumped some more, the bike lurched into some loose gravel on the road, and suddenly the bike was completely out of control and I was absolutely sure I was going to be sliding across fresh chip seal. I managed to keep the bike more or less upright as it went across the road and was able to get a foot down when it slowed when it hit the grass/weeds/brambles in the ditch. I stopped without hitting the ground, thankful too for that little gap behind me to the next groups of riders--who all passed me while I was trying to get out of the ditch and back on the road. This was at the bottom of about a 1-mile climb, and I managed to chase back on to (and pass) one group. My knee was really sore from where it had whacked the top tube when I lurched to a stop. I tried to rub it out on the next descent, but that didn't work so well. We finally all regrouped with the front riders literally 50 feet before the bottom of the long, 4-mile climb that's the heart of this loop. I managed to stay with the front group about halfway up but got popped. The rest of the race was a 20-mile TT for me. I needed to keep the time gap below 1'30" to stay "in the money" but with five of them up there and me by myself, that didn't happen. Still, I rode hard, I made up time on the second descent (local knowledge helps), and I didn't get caught. It was an absolutely beautiful summer's day--93 when we drove through Creswell on our way back to I-5.

One more race to go....

Lucky-colored glasses

Friday, 31 August

Yesterday's mail included a tape-bound box with a new pair of eyewear, Axley's Ginny in powder blue with pink trim (which nobody can see when the glasses are on). They're smaller lenses in a smaller frame than my other Axleys, and as you can see on better models than mine, they fit smaller faces well. The fit is good: not tight across the face, but secure in the temples. On my swelled head, they are in fact tight, but glasses loosen up easily enough. The tech specs on these specs are here.

My two cents? The lenses are made of impact-resistant polycarbonate, which is almost safety glass, so you're protected from flying rocks, big bugs, and projectile snot from the rider in front of you. But I always worry a little about any glasses that leave an edge of the lens against my face (is that what "half orbital" means?)--and I've got the scars to prove why. I'd describe the "powder blue" color as "turquoise," which is perfect because....let's just say that turquoise is lucky for me and not jinx it any further. And with the rose-colored lenses (that's not what Axley calls them, but who could resist a reference to rose-colored glasses?), they'll be great for commuting and bleak winter rides. They also seem to be good for blogging--they cut down on the bright glare from my laptop's screen.

They come with an eyewear care package and a nice, petit carrying case (half the size of the case for the chunky Bandits). I will road test them on a road trip this weekend. The weather forecast isn't gloomy, but we'll be driving in twilight times and these'll be perfect.

You'll be able to order your own--in blue, bone white, or pewter--at http://www.axleyusa.com/

I think I'm becoming the Imelda Marcos of eyewear....

Eating REALLY local

Thursday, 30 August

My husband had a play date in the park tonight, so I was on my own for dinner. Instead of another bowl of cereal, my menu was food that was very local. Potatoes, beans, and herbs from my garden, and eggs from some hens who live two blocks away. I had been hoping for tomatoes too, but they didn't get the memo and were still hard green pellets.

It took me a while to figure out that these were the perfect ingredients for a frittata. But to be entirely local, I couldn't use salt, pepper, butter, or cheese. Fortunately, a well-seasoned cast iron skillet is pretty nonstick. It would've been better with tomatoes sliced on top just before it went under the broiler, and it definitely would've been better with a little cheese. But it wasn't bad (better than corn flakes, that's for sure!).

Dessert was applesauce from the tree in the backyard (okay, it's an apple tree, not an applesauce tree...). It is an off year for apples, so it took a while to find these four. Again, nothing added.

Eating local would be a great diet, unless you happen to have cows down the street. I didn't miss salt, but I learned the flavor that a little bit of fat (cheese) would've added to the frittata and how a little bit of sugar brings out the flavor of fruit.

Tomorrow I think we'll be back to things from faraway like rice and soy sauce. And tomorrow I'll post about my new lucky-colored glasses!

Hillclimb strategy

Monday, 27 August

Yesterday was our state hillclimb championship. It's not much as hillclimbs go--pretty short, not steep--but it still seems to intimidate most of the Washington peloton. Here are the factors that I would say affected my performance:

1. I had not raced on my road bike since July 1.

2. I have done only one training ride with long climbs all summer (at the beginning of July).

3. I never had much power, and I lost more last winter.

4. I tried to lose weight quickly and had some bad days on the bike with no energy for even short hills.

5. I increased my mid-week training miles, item 4 notwithstanding.

6. I started running a couple of mornings a week (no, not for cyclocross!), before my trainer workouts.

7. I took the bottle cages and computer off my bike on race day, left my wedding rings at home, and even went so far as to weigh my favorite pairs of sunglasses to see which were the lightest.

8. I had a super stressful week (including lack of sleep) before the race (can you say "omnium results"?).

9. I had no expectations because I haven't been racing in the WA peloton this summer (not by design, it just happened that way) and couldn't anticipate how "competitive" I'd be. My goals were vague (to beat two particular women).

10. I lost 7 pounds in the weeks leading up to the race.

Coaches, take note. In spite of the things above that you would laugh at, discourage as training habits, and argue were detriments to my performance, I think my time this year was a PR on this course. Here are the numbers I have:

2007 28:37
2006 28:52
2004 29:05
2002 30:24
2001 30:27
2000 30:49
1997 29:30

28:37 was also good enough for third-fastest women's time overall. So which of those top 10 factors was most influential? Number 10, hands down. Of all the women who opted to "weigh in" at the finish, only one weighed (one pound) less than me. And in spite of my power shortage, I mustered enough to keep it in the big ring for the second half of the course (that's pay off from climbing on the tandem).

Our society doesn't let you talk about women and weight in the same sentence. Too much potential for sounding judgmental or damaging someone's self-esteem. But on the margin, on a climb, on a bike, less is better.

New way to waste gas

Wednesday, 22 August

While I was out running this morning, I saw a guy "walking" his dog with his car. He sat behind the wheel with a retractable leash in hand out the window and drove slowly down the block while the dog prowled and sniffed along the edge of the street. What, I'm supposed to be happy the dog is getting some exercise? This speaks volumes about what ails our society....

Family pride, or why beans are like tomatoes

Sunday, 19 August

Many summer hours of my childhood were spent helping my grandmother pick, trim, and cut green beans--straight from her garden--for canning. I thought of her and my grandfather this evening when I harvested these from my own backyard; my grandparents would be proud. Ride with me to Maltby sometime and I'll show you where they were locavores decades before it was trendy. And how are beans like tomatoes, you ask? No matter where you shop, you can't buy any that even come close to tasting as good as the ones you grow yourself.

The weekend leading up to my Sunday evening walk down memory lane (bad pun there, but only a few will catch it) was busy. Friday I rented a floor buffer, attached a disk of about 10-grit sandpaper (saying goodbye to the skin on my knuckles), and tried to get the 60-year-old paint off our concrete floor. It was a 3-way battle between me, the sander, and the paint. I'm not sure who won: I gave up after 3 hours and returned the sander, and there's still paint on the floor (and aches in my shoulders). I've been at this project for many months, and I really should make some more effort to finish it while there are still daylight hours when I'm not at work.

Then we hopped in the car and zipped (not) to Corvallis. Saturday morning was the Marys Peak hillclimb and the one-year anniversary for my tandem racing career with my husband. We had cautious hopes: between he, me, and the bike, we weighed at least 10 pounds less than last year. And the weather was 25 degrees cooler. So...we took a whopping 12 seconds off our course record! We heard lots of "it was windier this year" and "the air was heavier because it was cool and humid." But still....shouldn't we have been able to go more than 12 seconds faster? Kerry certainly proved that being a year older is just an excuse to go faster. All the results are here. I will admit that it was kind of fun passing everyone who started in front of us and being the first bike (of any sort) across the line at a tough hillclimb.

Post-race, we had another lovely drive on I-5, all the way to charming Centralia, followed by one of the worst road-trip meals I have had in a long time and a romantic evening in a Motel 6, in a room that must have only recently come by its "no smoking" label. There was some redemption in a brief excursion to 3 of the plethora of outlet stores in Centralia and even more (no sarcasm here) in our serene, pastoral Sunday morning drive west on highway 12 to Elma.

My team time trial was an odd beast. Our goal was to have the 4 of us finish together. We were the only team in our category, so this was not an unreasonable goal. After some initial hesitations in the first couple of miles, we settled into a good rhythm and rotation and worked together smoothly for the rest of the 32 miles. We had fun, and we all finished together. Mission accomplished. Those results will eventually be posted here (please don't nag me).

Only 3 more weekends of racing this year!

Comfort zone

Sunday, 12 August

Today I let myself be taken way outside my comfort zone--and it was a 100% positive experience.

I am the queen of crit avoidance. Sneak one into a stage race on me, and I'll take whatever prorated time the officials give me; just get me off the course. But today I was committed to the OBRA crit championship in Gresham--on the tandem with Sal.

I kept waiting for the apprehension attack, for hating myself for getting into the position I was in, and then for the sense of impending doom at race time. They didn't show up. Since ours was the first race, we got to preride the course a bunch of times. That helped a lot. And I knew most of the other riders in the race. Still, 6 corners was 2 more than I'd ever seen in a tandem crit--and 6 more than this time trialer would like.

The male-male bikes did most of the mixing it up today, with 2 of them staying away for the second half of the race. The eventual race winners took a really bad line through an early corner and nearly put most of the field into the curb. The things you don't see on the back of a tandem are nice sometimes; I was just aware that we got REALLY close to the sidewalk coming out of that corner and heard the words fly. On the other hand, it's hard to sense how much harder you're going when called upon. It hurts, but you can't see much difference because the stoker isn't getting all those visual cues that the captain is, the ones you get on your single bike.

I think I was pretty relaxed during the race; I never had the familiar panicked feeling of "we are going WAY too fast into this corner." There were maybe 3 or 4 times when you might say we were pedaling against each other. Considering that we have ridden together 4 times in 6 months, and that the race was 30 minutes long, 5 seconds of mis-timed effort is not so bad.

My captain and his bike were awesome in this crit. I am sure he had to do a lot more work, simply because the course was fairly technical. I just had to pedal and lean...and sometimes pedal harder. Time in a crit has never ticked down off the race clock so fast, and never before have I paid no attention to how many times we'd gone around the circuit.

It's funny. The whole CONCEPT of a tandem crit is way outside my comfort zone. But the EXPERIENCE of this one was not. I guess that's why you're supposed to push yourself sometimes--to expand your comfort zone. I'm glad I did.

Oh yeah. Results. We were the first mixed tandem, 4th overall, 2nd in the pack sprint. I have no idea how we did in the finishing sprint; nobody came around us, but I couldn't see the bike that won to know if the gap got bigger or we kept it close in the last straightaway. Primes went to the guys up the road, and I don't even know what they were.

Fame allotment

Thursday, 9 August, 62 years after Nagasaki


Few of us get our allotted 15 minutes of fame and glory in one big chunk. Kerry got a fraction of his portion this week in the Mt. Shasta Herald after dropping the field at the Mt. Shasta hillclimb:

http://www.mtshastanews.com/articles/2007/08/08/sports/sports01.txt

Kind of balances out all you flatlander bloggers scared away by the big hills at Pacific Raceways.

TT Zen

Monday, 6 August, 62 years after Hiroshima

Lots of riders talk about getting into a rhythm or zone during a flat time trial. You want a steady effort and a smooth ride, none of that losing focus or endlessly shifting gears in search of a cadence that feels easy but delivers whopping power. Well, I can tell you faster than any coach how to find that elusive Zen-like trance: stoke a tandem for a time trial.

Yesterday was the 40.75K OBRA time trial championship on the beautiful Peoria course. Tandems got their TT championship at the beginning of July, so Sal and I were just racing for...well, for fun. Sal's tandem is a lot shorter than the one O.A.D. and I have, so my hands were either in the drops (99% of the time) or on the hoods (to stand at the start and turnaround). I can't put my head down and watch the ground go by because there's not enough room, so I stare at a blue blur that's the back of Sal's skinsuit. There's no quest for the most aero position because there aren't a lot of options. But Sal is considerably taller than O.A.D., so I don't stick out in the wind too much.

The Peoria course has few landmarks on it: two bends, two bridges over culverts, and a few stands of trees. The pavement is perfectly smooth except for one bridge transition. Even on a single bike, there is not a lot of distraction here. On the back of a tandem, there is nothing to think about but pedaling as hard as you can with whatever gear you've been dealt. There's no point in looking up because there's nothing to see. To keep my focus, I tried a few mantras from my personal collection and found that the tried-and-truest one worked best. I also tried closing my eyes, but that must have made me lose concentration because Sal would always come out with "we've got to keep up our speed" (this was into the raging headwind on the return) or "let's go harder over this little riser" (riser? on this course?). So I kept my eyes wide open, repeated my mantra over and over in my head, and tried not to think that it was taking forever. Sometimes, everything came together and it was really smooth and I was pedaling without thinking about it.

It's kind of cool that when you push your body that hard, and take away almost all distractions, you really can think about absolutely nothing. Until your captain interrupts and says "OK, 5K to go. Really push it." What had I been doing for the last 35K?

Wind and lack of sleep turn out not to be the best things for a fast tandem TT time; we were 27th out of 202 bikes in the race (but faster than the other tandems). We were 28 seconds slower than last year and well off the course record I stoked in July. But we had fun!

Soft Irish rain

Friday, 3 August

Twas a lovely soft rain this morning. Good for the garden, good for the soul. Had to chase some spiders off the rain bike, though, before I could ride to work. And the cat was not amused.

Hats: None made in a month, although I have identified my next victim--I mean, giftee.

Garden: Berries about done, beans (green, purple, yellow) harvested daily, a few tomatoes every week, but the potatoes don't much like hot weather (how do they grow in Idaho?). Made a batch each of raspberry (from my garden) and apricot jam.

Tandems: I have not raced on my road bike in a month! But lots on the tandem. Next up: 40K at Peoria on Sunday. Sal and I will see if we can beat our time from a year ago...and will we beat the course record that O.A.D. and I set on 7/7?

Important race question

Wednesday, 25 July

Why the heck do the cat 4-5s yell so much during their race at Pacific Raceways? Are they all hard of hearing? It doesn't sound like "slowing" or "hold your line." It's more like they're continuing ten arguments from the previous week. There could actually be racing going on if they weren't expending all their energy yelling at each other.

Yeah, yeah, I could go ride with a different field. But half of the masters guys are racing in shorts that should've been retired three years ago, and the 1-2s are so strung out most of the time that there's no nice draft for wimps like me to sit in. So I make do with the 4s until the sketch factor kicks in. But the yelling has got to go....

A whole nother level

Monday, 23 July

The folks who really rode on a different level this weekend were at Race Across Oregon.

Being a mere mortal, I stuck to the Co-Motion tandem stage race. It was my third Co-Motion race, but the first year to race there with my husband. Race results will eventually appear here, and I'll forgo the blow-by-blow details. We were third in the TT (first mixed tandem), lost no time to our competition in the crit, and were fourth in the RR (first mixed).

The lesser observation of the weekend is that the male-male bikes did absolutely nothing in the crit. They didn't ride at the front, they didn't get in any breaks, and they didn't win any primes. I could only attribute such atypical male behavior to the fact that the male pairs were matches made for this race--and thus less confident of their combined technical riding skills?--whereas the mixed pairs probably do most of their tandem riding with their partners in this race. Never mind that we'd never sprinted on the tandem before; it didn't stop us from trying (we have 2+ pounds of coffee to prove it)!

The greater observation came halfway up the epic climb in yesterday's road race. The bottom mile is the steepest; everyone stayed together. Then it settles into about 7% for the next two miles. By halfway through this, we were the only mixed tandem left in the front group. I knew it was the place to be, but I felt a little out of my league with all those boys riding hard on a long climb. Mostly, though, I felt like I might explode at any moment; I know this climb well and was focusing on getting to where it flattens out a little in the last mile. And then the Hutch's guys attacked. Before I could even think "oh good, let them go," my captain launched to get on their wheel. And we did. And we stayed. Until the next attack.

I have always thought that riding tandem is a better workout than I would get doing the same ride on my single bike. Perceived effort is less than actual effort. Previous tandem partners have all been much stronger than me--men just have more muscle mass and more power output, and the ones I've ridden with also had more pounds than I have.

But when O.A.D. went after that first attack yesterday, I was truly surprised--not that he tried, but that he made it work. I thought I was at my max, and there was no way I could've gone harder if I'd been on my single bike. But all of a sudden someone was making me go harder--I didn't have any choice. And since I was probably contributing about 10% of the increased effort, that meant he was doing 90% and dragging me up the hill...and staying with those guys. Think about how hard it is to accelerate on a long climb. Then imagine doing it on a bike that weighs 10 pounds more than your race bike, with 125 pounds of underpowered weight on the back. This was something that all the modern technology you can put on your bike will never measure. I'm not sure what the measure is, but I guess my climbing ability has been relatively similar to that of my previous partners, whereas O.A.D. possesses more of something in that department.

We couldn't match the second attack but--like Levi--we just rode a hard, damage-control tempo and stayed with one male-male bike that eventually towed us up to the two leaders. Apart from two 2-mile descents, I was maxed out for about 17 miles of climbing and chasing. I never ride with a heart-rate monitor, but I sure wish I had data from that effort!

Port-a-potty protocol

Saturday, 21 July

Dudes, lock the door!!

At the Cascade Cycling Classic two weeks ago, I walked up to a port-a-potty with a green "open" sign on the door--and opened it to find a guy with his shorts around his ankles. Oops, sorry!

Today at the Co-Motion tandem stage race, I hesitated before another "open" biffy and knocked. No answer. So I opened it up--and there's another guy in the same state.

What is this? A secret desire to be caught at something I don't want to catch anyone at? As the next person in line said, this isn't exactly rocket science. How do we make it any clearer? It's not so bad when a male teammate or some old broad like me catches you, but little kids? An official? LOCK THE DOOR!!

Picture show

Monday, 16 July (still)



Sahalie Falls. Almost the headwaters of the McKenzie River.









Top of McKenzie Pass. Road is completely closed just past the summit, so almost no cars.







No cars, but lots of chipmunks up there on McKenzie Pass!









Stage 5 feed zone. This is the break in the pro field; it's relatively quiet here, but there was pandemonium when the packs came through. Phil in com 1 kept trying (futilely) to wave us all back outside the white line.

Back to reality

Monday, 16 July

I went. I saw. I conquered. And then I had to come home.

The conquest started off the week: I set a new course record--with help from O.A.D., of course. There then were a couple of long, solo, unsupported days on my single bike on beautiful roads next to scenic rivers and over mountain passes, some stretches with not-so-beautiful traffic. There was one glorious ride on a closed road, 15 miles out/up, 15 miles back/down; I realized about 3/4 of the way through the ride that I had a huge grin on my face--it was just that beautiful and that much fun. Found another scrumptious bakery. Saw alpacas, llamas, reindeer (seriously!), a gazillion chipmunks, a bobcat, and blazingly bright stars all the way down to the horizon.

Then it was on to one day of registration and two days of hard physical labor to support an NRC race (remind me never to promote one of those). Then two days of feed zoning, which took me back to my earliest roots in bike racing. I am quite happy to sit at my desk, out of the sun, today!

All week long, I just kept meeting great people and getting to know others better and seeing folks I hadn't seen in years. There's a huge cycling community out there, and so many parts are so interconnected. People were incredibly kind and generous to me, and others seemed grateful for advice and help I was able to give them. And on my bike, I encountered not one rude motorist--in 300 miles, much of it on state highways, that was a pleasant surprise.

It was not a vacation where I got to lie in a hammock, read all day (I read one book), and drink umbrellaed drinks (I sampled several local beers, though). But I barely thought about work...or the WSBA...or BARR points...and I had a lot of fun. I would do it all again (and better) in a heartbeat!

Afterword: My antipathy toward crits was only reinforced on this busman's holiday. During a crit on Friday, I was minding my own business, sitting 3 feet back from the curb after corner 3 just opposite one of the pits, making a hat, when 2 riders came flying through the caution tape and over the hay bale and very, very nearly slammed into me. The riders were okay, but the same cannot be said for one skinsuit and one carbon seatpost that's now in two pieces. In retrospect, it's pretty funny: I was nearly taken out in a crit and I wasn't even on my bike!

Summertime

Friday, 6 July

I'm off to try new things for a while: do something I've never done, go somewhere I've never been. There will, of course, be tandems and my single bike and challenges. And hats, friends, wilderness, and racing. And nary a computer on the horizon. Happy summer!

Two firsts

Monday, 2 July

No, that's not my weekend race report (I only managed one second in that department).

The first first was on Sunday morning. We were driving on the Delta Highway in Eugene and saw a turtle in the middle of the road. This was not one of those turtles that somebody wanted to remove from the Des Moines crit course. This was a critter, walking across the freeway. Its shell was probably 8-10 inches across and the color of concrete. Fortunately, there wasn't much traffic so I'm hoping it made it all the way across without becoming road kill.

The second first was during my race on Sunday afternoon. On the second lap, I was riding with one other woman. We had just turned onto the narrow, rolly, twisty road through the vineyards on this course when we heard a truck behind us. Since we had no lead or follow car, we did our duty and moved to the right, but it took a while before the driver got up the nerve to pass--you couldn't see more than 100 feet along the road at a time. It turned out that the vehicle was not a truck but a Hummer limo, and it took FOREVER to get past us. When it pulled in front of us, it didn't fit on its half of the road so the right wheels were in the dirt on the right shoulder. And then it turned right into one of the wineries, forcing us to slow down while we waited for it to turn its behemoth self off the road.

The racing was good; more than twice as many women turned out for the masters women's road race championship this Sunday than had turned up 3 weeks ago for the senior women's championship race.

Not about the bike

Friday, 29 June
I went to my local farmers market on Thursday afternoon and bought these beauties from Schuh Farms in the Skagit Valley. That's a whole flat, 12 pints of fresh-picked strawberries from 50 miles away instead of 1500.

So my Friday afternoon/evening was busy, making a total of 17 jars of jam, some little, some big. It's the perfect stuff on pancakes before a long winter ride! Mmmmm.






And there's no rest for the weary because the raspberries are coming on like gangbusters--a pint and a half tonight from my garden. I freeze what we can't eat (well, that's not quite true; I leave out enough for dessert and breakfast and freeze the rest) and already have more than half of what I need for a batch of jam.

And on Monday morning, I'll be out there picking blueberries to top off the cereal bowl! 75 feet, 15 seconds from bush to bowl. I love this time of year.

Another racing observation

Tuesday, 26 June

I'm feeling really bold today--and I haven't even had my coffee yet. Last time I ventured into the "why do they race/ride they way they do?" realm, I was told that my entry was a "pretty big blow to the NW women's peloton" and "most of it was inaccurate." Again, I'm just making an observation today, based on my limited participation in the sport. I don't think it's very controversial but someone will probably take offense (that's what blogs are supposed to do, right--offend?).

Perhaps more than most women, I race sometimes with men. Not just the weekly series events, but by racing on the tandem with multiple male partners (no comments, please), I get some insight into how men race and ride.

Last Sunday, though, I was in a group of experienced women racers for a very long time up some long climbs. And I noticed that they almost never get out of the saddle. Sit, sit, sit--uphill, downhill, just about all the time. Men complain they can't get out of the saddle enough when they ride tandem and they all wonder why I can't stand for a half a mile at a stretch.

I first got insight into the value of standing occasionally when I rode with an ex-pro up that long climb on the last day at Columbia Plateau (its reported length varies but it's at least 10 miles). Standing lets you rest some muscles and use new ones, it changes the way your weight is distributed through your hands and feet, and (sometimes this is priceless) it allows you some respite from pressure on the saddle. And on an extraordinarily long climb, well, it's something to do.

But there we were on Sunday, a group of maybe 20 women riding up a 4-mile climb, every single one of us in the saddle. The pace was not blistering and I thought it was a great opportunity to get out of the saddle. The only other woman who was standing occasionally was clearly on the rivet and struggling to keep her momentum up enough to stay on. Now, there's nothing wrong with sitting, and it made for an incredibly smooth group because bikes don't shift around nearly as much when you're sitting squarely on top of them. But the men I ride with would have been out of the saddle more than they were in it.

So, what's the difference here? Is it purely anatomical? There were plenty of complaints from the women about, um, saddle discomfort and a fair amount of shifting position ever so slightly to try to relieve pressure on particularly sore spots. Do women's bikes "fit" them differently so that standing is not as comfortable as it is for men? Are women not as confident out of the saddle? I would not for a minute believe that saddle manufacturers favor women's saddle comfort over men's (because nothing else manufactured for this sport favors a woman's anatomy).

Okay, so tell me I'm clearly not a bike racer because if I had all this time and energy for observation and getting out of the saddle, I should have been attacking instead and not just sitting in a super smooth group when there were only 60 miles to the finish. That still doesn't answer my fundamental question (based on unscientific data collection, I know): why are men so much more likely to climb out of the saddle than women? Maybe I should ask about the tendencies of cat 4/5 men because I'm, um, selective about my male tandem partners and they've all been cat 1/2. Anybody have any insights into this really burning question?

Elkhorn days 2 and 3

Monday, 25 June

Saturday is the double-stage day at Elkhorn. You expect your legs to be tired on the second day of a stage race, but this time mine weren't. Every other part of me was tortured and exhausted, though, from the epicness of Friday. Walking from the car to the coffee shop for breakfast tired me out. I just wanted to lie in bed.

We had forgotten to pack the trainer into the car, so my warm-up for the TT was some hat-making followed by a brief spin on a borrowed trainer. Once I was racing, it took at least 2 kilometers to convince my body that it really could go hard. My time was 5 seconds slower than 2006, which didn't seem too bad, but I figured with the stronger field this year that it might be good enough for 10th instead of the 5th place I got last year. Hours later, I found out I was 6th on the stage. Well, at least there was some respectability there, since I was certain to do nothing but lose more time in the remaining stages. I guess everyone else was still exhausted from Friday's little jaunt.

The crit involved a prerace exchange of visits to the OBRA rule book and staying in long enough that I got so many laps down that the officials couldn't do the math any more and finally pulled me to make their lives easier. The only interesting thing about the crit was that they had so much stuff to give away that there was a prime nearly every lap. After Ms. U23 Australian national champion (who should've won a prize for choppiest pedal stroke in the peloton) went solo off the front, the race staff were kind enough to offer some of the prizes to the pack.

Sunday is the epic Dooley Mountain road race, 102 miles of desolate Oregon wilderness (okay, there are farms from about mile 80 to 95, but not much sign of humanity anywhere else) finishing at the top of an 8-mile climb up Dooley Mountain. One year it snowed on this stage; other years the final climb has been like racing in an oven. There is now an unofficial water station at the sign marking the first hairpin on the climb so that if you're really desperate, you can stop and help yourself to a bottle.

The weather Sunday was PERFECT for racing. I started with arm warmers and gloves and was fine. The temperature never got above 75. There were some windy sections, but nothing like Friday. There are three big climbs on this stage (several miles each) plus some little "short" bumps (maybe a mile each). There are two amazingly long descents that even I have fun on, especially this year when I never had to chase back on down the descents. We had a rotating pace line going for the first part of the race that was a thing to behold: smooth, no gaps, no surges. And this with 35 women. We also luxuriated in a total of 3 pee stops on this stage. The last one was a bit mis-timed, and the masters break passed just as we stopped. I rode up the last climb with a woman from OSU, and it was nice to have company.

Bike racing is funny. I had a bad day on Friday, I lost time in the crit (which most people manage not to do), and I lost more time on the final climb on Sunday. My TT was reasonably OK, but not so good that I made up for any of those other losses. In the end, I came out 10th in GC and also 3rd in the FIAC stage race national championships. Other riders had worser days than me, I guess. And Friday's weather took its toll on different people in different ways.

Congrats to Allison for her win in our race. But special congrats to the old guy who counterattacked out of the neutral start in the masters race, stayed away in a break all day, and won solo at the top of Dooley! All the results will eventually be posted here. Special thanks to OBRA's Rob Anderson for his pictures and his endless patience in directing (cars and men on bikes) traffic around our peloton yesterday.

HELLs Canyon alright

Friday, 22 June

78 miles. Out and back: mostly downhill on the Hells Canyon scenic highway to Richland (pop. 150), then mostly uphill back.

4 hours 20-some minutes. It was that amazing combination of headwind out, headwind back. There were significant stretches on the return where we were going 10 mph (not all of them uphill). When you've still got 20 miles to go and all you want to do is get off your bike, that's not a good thing.

92 degrees. Cooler by the time we finished (6:30), but hotter in the hellish, narrow little canyons of the Powder River. No humidity, either. It was the first time ever I was completely covered in salt after a race.

Elkhorn

Thursday, 21 June

Temperature: 82 degrees!

Humidity: 8.2 per cent?

Zero carbon farming

Wednesday, 20 June

No fossil fuels were burned to bring these raspberries to my cereal bowl. No chemical fertilizers, no electricity, not even any water out of the tap. Even the raspberry canes were given to me by local folks, not raised in some nursery five states away. Guilt free cuisine!

The potatoes are coming along, too. I hear they're "done" when the plants start to bloom. I never know how much to water them, but since they thrive in Ireland, I guess you can't overwater 'em. My daddy and grandma taught me that one of the best early summer foods is fresh peas and new potatoes with a really light cream sauce--I can't wait!

Ring around the volcano

Fathers Day

Happy Fathers Day, all you dads out there!

Just slightly lower on the scale of important events today was the Mt. Tabor Circuit Race in Portland. This is the only bike race I know of around the cone of an (extinct) volcano. I'm not exactly sure where that landmark is on the course, but they hype it up a lot. Other features of this almost-crit are 136 feet of climbing per 1.3-mile lap, a lot of fast descending with an almost-hairpin, decreasing radius turn toward the bottom, and a (short) flat spot in the middle of the climb where the start/finish is. There's a midweek series here ("Velo on the Volcano"), so all the local riders know what line to take, etc. It's a good course, safe (no cars--it's in the middle of a park), and good spectating. Oh, yeah, it's fun too--in the usual painful sort of way. If you want to see the course, some helmet-cam footage from the cat 3 men's race will eventually be posted on Kenji's blog.

We were looking for coffee and maybe some breakfast on our way to the race and came upon the Sweetness Bakery and Cafe. It's so new it doesn't seem to have its own website, but the coconut banana muffins are worth going out of your way to find. The cinnamon rolls looked decadent, but I managed to resist. I did get a second muffin, though, to snack on during the day.

Turns out coconut and bananas and coffee are a good combo for prerace food. My first race of the day was masters women. If you know me, you know that a few elements of the course description above sort of play to my weaknesses, so I didn't have any grand hopes. Second time up the hill the race split, with just three of us in the break. Also in the break were a woman I didn't know and Jenny from Medford who puts men to shame at the Mt. Hood hillclimb. I managed somehow to win not only the sprint for the prime, but also the sprint at the finish.

After sitting around for the better part of 2 hours, I got to race again with the senior women. My hopes here were even less grand. While the field was too small to be a "who's who" of Oregon racing, it was pretty stacked. And as a way to make up for the zero prize list (the race is a fundraiser for junior racing), we had a prime every lap. Still, it turned into a bizarre race: it was 1.25 miles of pedaling around the course followed by 200m of racing for the line. Not to my surprise, I got gapped off the second time up the climb...but I caught back on at the base of the climb a lap later. In total, I caught back on three times during the race, including on the last lap. However, when Melissa launched her final effort at 225m, I could only watch as first Tina and then Hilary tried to go too. Funny thing was that the gaps that were established by 200m didn't change all the way to the finish and nobody came around anybody else.

It was a fun day...no crashes, no rain, and 2 hats made. No tandem race on this course this year, but since tandems would probably hit 45-50 on that descent, my nerves were probably better off without that thrill. I also got to check out a couple of knitted hats two riders bought yesterday at the Eugene Saturday Market. They looked, well, very Eugene.

Sign up for Elkhorn

Wednesday, 13 June

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Thursday update: Deadline extended to Sunday. And, in case you're one of the few who races for the money, for the crit, prizes for the women's Pro/1/2 field will match the men's Pro/1/2; the women's Cat 3/4 field will match the men's Cat 3. Thanks to Beverly of Bella's (www.bellabakercity.com); she is an even bigger supporter of this women's race than I am. And she sells luscious wine and chocolate and etc.
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You've got just two days left to sign up for the best regional single-bike stage race around:

http://www.elkhornclassicstagerace.com/

Why race Elkhorn?

• Beer (at the finish).
• Cookies (at the Friday night pasta feed--there's pasta too).
• Empty roads (the only cars are race support vehicles).
• Spectacular scenery (Blue Mountains, green valleys, Oregon Trail, Hells Canyon).
• Great community support (everybody asks how your race is going).
• The excitement of racing with riders from all over the West Coast (but no pro teams).
• Tough racing. Good camaraderie.
• Best excuse for a rest week before all those crits over 4th of July weekend.
• Because it's FUN and you don't want to miss out.

Firsts

Monday, 11 June

Yesterday I did a tandem road race with my husband for the very first time. And--the short version of the long-winded version below--we finished in first place. Pretty nice.

The occasion was the Oregon tandem road race championship on a "new" course west of Eugene. Only one stretch--the most significant stretch--was on roads we haven't raced on many times. This section was about 5 miles: from Territorial Highway, stairstepping up through a pretty little valley of vineyards toward Briggs Hill, which is a steep, switchback climb of maybe 1.5 miles, then dropping off the backside of Briggs toward Spencer Creek Road. The feedzone was on a lesser hill, and there are a couple of longish drags and rollers, but otherwise the course is mostly flattish and somewhat windy. Showers were kept to a minimum on race day (a blessing considering the bends and paint stripe on the descent--okay, you're not supposed to cross it anyway, but, you know, just in case).

To my surprise, there were a total of 10 tandems for the start of our race (that's 4 bikes more than the senior women's race had!). The attacks began shortly after the neutral rollout ended but eventually we settled into a paceline rotation of about 5 bikes with the others just sitting on. Over the feedzone hill, which I don't think gapped anybody, then more rotating around the 10 miles of flat roads to the turn onto Briggs. This is a very narrow little road, and you wouldn't want to be caught at the back of a group even on your single bike. So we were at the front when we got to the serious climbing. We just rode a steady tempo--and had gap at the top. The descent is a little bit technical, and pretty high speed, and there were 5 bikes back together by the time we turned onto Spencer Creek and headed for the finish line at the end of the first lap (of 3).

Gradually all the other bikes caught back on, and most wouldn't pull through at all. (This is the problem with getting to the top of a hill first--you're marked, and everybody wants to tire you out.) We rolled over the feed hill, got to the bottom, and were just rolling along. I decided it would be a good time to eat and took a big bite out of my Odwalla bar. At this point we were on the front, my captain was fed up with nobody riding hard, and so he just pushed the pace--and voila, we had a gap. And I had my mouth full and couldn't breathe hard. Somehow I managed (chipmunk cheeks), our gap grew to several hundred meters, and one bike bridged up. They had been one of the bikes willing to work earlier, and we rotated steady, hard pulls. Nobody else tried to bridge (or we didn't see them if they did). Eventually, the official's car came up behind us, which is a good sign when you're trying to make a break stick.

At the bottom of the steep climb, our chain got tangled up, so we both had to get off the bike. I got it running the right direction, and then we had to get back on the bike. Getting two people on and off a bike obviously takes longer than just one, so we had some work to do to catch the other tandem. We were only about 50 meters behind them at the top of the climb, and we came together again after the descent. More trading pulls; they got gapped a little on the feed hill but got right back on. Finally we got around to the last time up the hill, and we knew had to give it everything we had left to get a gap that would be big enough to hold all the way to the finish.

The last switchback is about 200 meters from the top of the climb, and I swear they were only 100 meters behind at that stage. But as we were cresting the top of the hill, I couldn't see them or the follow car anywhere behind us. By this lap, we were a little smoother on the descent. I tried to glance behind us when I could, but couldn't see anything. It's pretty hard to communicate from the back of a tandem when you're whooshing downhill at 45 [update: 48] mph, so I had to wait until the rollout at the bottom before I could yell that I didn't see anything.

After we made the turn at the bottom, it was 2.5 miles of flat road to the finish. Could we time trial it and hold them off? After 1/4 mile, I looked back and was positive I could see them just a couple hundred meters back, in front of the follow car. Mick saw the same thing, so we absolutely buried ourselves, thankful for the new 56 [it's only a 55] chain ring "borrowed" from a TT bike. Another look at about a mile to go revealed just the follow car behind us--but who knew if they were just out of sight behind it? Turned out that they were at least 90 seconds back, and the next group of 3 bikes was a couple minutes behind them. Mike (who won the masters 40-49 race that morning) and Sam (who is maybe 10) attacked the group and took third. In an odd twist, all the captains who medaled in our race were named Michael.

I had worried that the course would be boring (overly familiar), and someone had tried to tell us it was a 10-minute climb. Fortunately, I got to preview the course by driving lead car for the cat 3 men in the morning. And during our race, our lead vehicle was a motorcycle, which helped my confidence in the bends on the descent: if he can do it at this speed, so can we (maybe not the best philosophy, but helpful in this case). The climb looked significantly steeper from the car than it felt on the bike, and (except for the last lap) it seemed shorter on the bike than in the car. In three weeks, I get to do this all over again on my single bike (masters women RR championship), and then I think all the flat sections will get dull and windy and hard. Hopefully, I'll remember that the descent is not as bad as it looks!