If I Had A Bike Blog...

The Elephant Cometh

2011-10-12T17:22:00.000-07:00

I got a shiny new toy the other day in the form of a new Elephant cyclocross bike. Go ahead, take a second and admire. I'll wait.

Glen (the man behind Elephant Bikes) is working on a new website that will show off some of his work, but until then you'll have to take my word for it: the guy builds a great bike. Heck, if you don't believe me, ask a few other satisfied customers.

Glen is located in my hometown of Spokane, so on a recent trip out to visit my family I was able to pick up the new ride in person. The plan was to get some bikey folks together, build up the bike Saturday night, and race it first thing Sunday. It seemed only fitting to break it in on some local turf, before loading it up on the car for the drive back to Seattle.

So we stood around, beers in hand, Belgian cyclocross videos playing in the background, and watched Glen assemble the new steed. I had been told by a certain John Speare that Glen was pretty handy when it comes to building up a bike, and he was more than right. I generally just tried to stay the hell out of the way while Glen took care of all the important shit. Before you could say "Mario Cippollini", the lawyer lips were ground off, the steerer was cut, and the thing was basically done.

(Shakes head) Oh Mario, when will your hijinks ever end?

Ultimately, I think everyone who was present loved the bike, save for a few people who derided my choice of blasé black bar tape. Have you ever tried to wrap a set of bars while being heckled? It actually makes the whole process take longer somehow.

This is how many beers it takes to watch someone build a 'cross bike

After taking a few 'hotlaps' around the block, I raced it the very next morning at one of the local CX races. The course, in the tiny town of Colfax, WA was awesome: part smooth, flowy grass in a city park, part bumpy farmland, with a killer run-up and few short, steep descents to keep things interesting. The organizers lump the men's 1/2/3 categories together, and as a result, my race was a gut-busting 55 minutes long. Despite the extra length and the unfamiliarity of a brand-new bike, I felt strong, stayed rubber-side down, and ended up getting 2nd in the Cat 3s. Critics might point out that there were only 6 of us in the Cat 3s, but I will hear no such criticisms of my performance.

How'd the bike do? In short: amazing. It fits great (duh, kinda the point of getting a custom frame), corners like it's on rails, and isn't too shabby looking either. I'm not enough of a weight weenie to weigh my bikes, but it's obvious that this bike is a pretty svelte package.

Enough with the words you say? Fine, here are some more pics:

The signature Elephant 'wishbone' seatstays. Super awesome.

Check out the detailing on the ends of the headtube, and the minimalist pump peg: a single ball bearing.

I can't thank Glen enough for building such a great bike. It's sure to see plenty more racing action this season, not to mention all the miles I'll undoubtedly put on it outside of races.

Picnic Machine

2011-09-08T15:23:00.000-07:00

Life is rough in Seattle these days.

Ever since returning from PBP, this is the type of riding I've been wanting to do. Picnic riding. It's finally summer-type weather here, and we're spoiled with parks and water in this damn town. All this is made much easier by the fact that for a while now, I've had a sweet basket on the front of the bike I've been commuting on and riding the most: the Frankenbike.

I don't know why it took me so long to get a front basket on any of my bikes, but it is awesome.

The general workflow goes like this:

Throw some krap in the basket. Almost any size, any shape.
Cover with stretchy cargo net
Ride krap to destination
Picnic hard

I've also noticed an interesting thing: when you ride a bike with a front basket and you pass another, similarly-equipped cyclist, they almost always do the little "head-nod" acknowledgement. It's like you're in a club. An "awesome way to carry stuff on your bike" club.

In case anyone's wondering, the fenders are the new SKS "longboard" fenders, and they're pretty great. I had to use plastic fenders because of the tricky fender-mounting on this bike (In the absence of a chainstay bridge, I fabricated a mount onto the seat tube, made from an old taillight clamp). Unlike most plastic fenders however, these guys are long enough to actually work. The front flap almost touches the ground, and the fender just about reaches the front of the rack.

Honestly, I can't think of a better way to spend an afternoon than to ride an enjoyable bicycle to a beautiful place, eat some delicious food, enjoy a beverage or 3, and kick back. If only it were Saturday right now...

Paris-Brest-Paris 2011

2011-09-06T15:54:00.000-07:00

Well, as you may or may not have heard, I managed to find my way through the 1230 kilometers of Paris-Brest-Paris in less than 90 hours, thereby cementing my status as an ancien. Thankfully I didn't ruin my body or my bike, and I felt stronger than I thought I would over the course of the ride. It was, without a doubt, the most amazing thing I've ever done on two wheels, and the entire experience was so massive, so overwhelming, it's been hard for me to condense it into a bloggable format. Doing something in chronological order wouldn't work either, especially since many of the days, towns and controls have blended together into one bug lump of memories.

With that said, there are definite highlights that stick out in my mind:

Being cheered by scores of local villagers and townspeople, at all hours of the day and night:

Our fans

My first ever "flower hand-up", from one of the many young children that cheered us on.

I'd heard stories that the French residents along the route would line the tiny streets of their towns and villages to cheer the cyclists along, but I had filed them away as exaggerations. Well, it turns out they were all true. Not only did we get cheered, encouraged, and applauded for a solid 3.5 days on the road, but we got offers of cookies, coffee, places to sleep, even flowers. I kid you not. There is absolutely no way this would ever happen in the US. Cheers of "allez, allez" and "bon courage" stuck out among countless French phrases I didn't recognize. All of them sounded equally beautiful to my ears, and the emotional impact of each one can't be overstated. The French are a wonderful people, and they sure know how to treat a cyclist.

Riding through a massive thunder and lightning storm in the middle of the night:

The second night of our journey, we decided to leave the crowded control at Loudeac, and press on further to Carhaix before catching a few hours of sleep. Shortly after we left, lightning began flashing all around us, and the booms of thunder gradually grew closer and closer. Before long, we were in a full-on deluge, the likes of which this Seattleite hasn't seen in ages. Pounding rain had every inch of us soaked, and each descent became a white-knuckled test of both courage and brakepads. The nervous chatter of cyclists of every tongue, the flashes of lightning, the crack of thunder, and the sheer insanity of it all was complete sensory overload. I still get goosebumps thinking about it.

Luckily, we all had wool to keep us warm and reliable generator-powered lights to show us the way. We gave up our plan to reach Carhaix that night, stopping in Saint Nicolas-du-Pélem to get some rest. The gym was out of cots and blankets, so we used an air mattress and paper towels instead.

Pristine roads, without a sliver of glass or pothole to be seen:

In the entire 1230km, with close to 5000 people on the roads, I saw maybe 2 flats being changed. Even the most remote roads we rode on seemed to have been paved, swept, and groomed shortly before our arrival. Being from Seattle, I'm used to riding while surrounded by gorgeous scenery (and France had it in spades), but gorgeous roads too? We joked throughout the ride that we were so spoiled we might have to retire from American randonneuring, and only ride in France.

Amazing baguette sandwiches and pastries at every turn:

jambon et buerre - should have translated to "filling and delicious"

Tasty, no matter what speed you're going

My ride was pretty much fueled by these two items. Cheap, ubiquitous, and delicious. I've always needed to eat more "real food" then many of my fellow randonneurs, and luckily that was much easier to do in France than in the US. Even though France hasn't figured out how to make a decent cup of coffee, they've got the food thing down. The crappy convenience store food I'm used to having to eat was replaced with fresh bread and pastries. At one point, I looked down and found a blob of butter on my stem. YES.

Great scenery:

This was the "typical" town scene

Not your usual American small town

This is normally a pre-requisite for any long brevet, since you have to have something to help you pass the time on the bike. The scenery of PBP was not only gorgeous, but unlike anything we were used to seeing. The formula for the many, many tiny towns we rode through in Brittany seemed to be something like this: take a hill, build a medieval stone church on top, surround that with a small square, a few businesses, and a dense smattering of stone houses, surround with a wall. The term "suburban sprawl" had no meaning during 99% of the ride, which meant that when we weren't riding through an adorable little town, were were in pristine countryside.

Having a great group of friends to ride with, who failed to piss me off, even after 100+ hours together:

Chris, enjoying some complimentary coffee outside a great boulangerie

Robert, showing his enthusiasm for the town we just rode through

If I think about the amount of time we spent before, during and after the ride, sometimes hot, sometimes cold, sometimes sleepy, sometimes elated, almost always smelly and uncomfortable, I'm amazed that we got along so well. I'd be at most people's throats after far less, let me tell you. Robert, Chris and I had ridden as a group for our entire 2011 brevet series leading up to PBP, so sticking together as a group was a natural choice. While doing so inevitably meant more stops and a slower time, we were never in danger of falling behind the control schedule and our overall PBP "experience" was greater as a result of the awesome company. Having someone to talk to also helps out immensely when the sleep deprivation catches up with you and the eyelids start to get heavy.

Representing Seattle with the help of a great club:

Riding out to PBP registration with Jan Heine and Hahn Rossman

The Seattle International Randonneurs really lived up to the "International" part of their name at PBP. With something like 65 starters, we were by far the largest North American club present. With our distinctive blue jerseys, we really stuck out and made an impression on the scene. I got to hear "Seattle" pronounced with a huge variety of accents. Twice, I was approached by groups of Italian randos who said "SEATTLE RANDONNEURS!!!" and then insisted on having their pictures taken with me. Who knew we were so popular? It was pretty cool to see familiar faces in the middle of France, and I was even able to borrow a spare set of pedals from a fellow Seattle rando (thanks Mark!) after mine broke the night before PBP (after all the bike shops in Paris were closed, natch).

I keep getting asked if PBP was all that I hoped it would be, or whether I'll do it again in 4 years. I struggle to answer each of those questions, mostly because the experience is still sinking in over 2 weeks later. As with any brevet, there were thrilling highs (some of which I've described here) and deep lows (massive sleep deprivation, some sketchy bike-handlers). The difference with PBP seems to be that each piece of the experience was magnified or larger-than-life in some way. I think I'm going to be content to give the randonneuring a break for a bit, look through the rest of my photos and try to make sense of it all.

All packed for Paris

2011-08-13T11:37:00.000-07:00

Hopefully this mean looking tiger will be able to protect my bike from over-zealous baggage handlers all the way to Paris.

Apologies for the lack of blog updates in......like forever. My current excuse is that I've been working like mad to prepare for PBP. I leave in about 45 minutes, so it seemed like as good a time as any to throw this up on the internets.

If you're at all interested in following my progress during the brevet, you can visit this site and enter my frame number (4499). I'm starting the ride sometime between 6:00PM and 9:00PM on Sunday, August 21st (Paris time). If all things go according to plan, I should roll across the finish sometime under 90 hours from then.

It's been a long, long process of training, planning, ticket-buying, and packing to get to this point, but I'm ecstatic at having the opportunity to do this ride. I remember years ago, reading about PBP and BMB for the first time, thinking "Holy shit, that's insane!", while simultaneously filing away the idea of attempting it in the back of my brain.

Fast forward a few years, a few bikes, and many thousands of kilometers later, and here I am. A big bike box and a suitcase in front of me, nothing left to do now but ride.

I think I hear my ride outside.......to Paris!!

Frankenbike!

2011-05-13T16:07:00.000-07:00

I've had this bike for a while now, and it's high time I blogged a little something about it:

The frame and fork came my way via the always-spectacular Mr. John Speare. It's got quite a history, which you can read about here and here and here, and I'm happy to be carrying on the bike's "legacy".

This bike has undergone a metamorphosis of Frankenstein-ian (I made that word up) proportions, going from a 700C go-fast road bike with sidepull caliper brakes and gears, to a hacked, single-speed 650B bike with cantis, fat cushy tires, chain tensioner, and 2 left-hand brake levers (thanks, eBay!).

The obligatory bike nerd parts rundown:
- 1993 B-stone RB-1, hacked by Glen Copus
- Homebuilt Velocity Synergy 650B wheelset
- Nitto rando bars, Newbaum's cloth tape (natch)
- Pacenti Pari-moto 650x38B tires
- Old Campy Veloce 110BCD crankset
- Surly Singleator, pushing up to keep things tight

I have to put aside my urges to "fancy" this bike up, since that's not really what this bike is about. It's a crusty, scabby bike that just keeps on ticking.

That said, I am kinda tempted to get a chainstay bridge welded in, so I can put "proper" fenders on it, but in the meantime, this is pretty much the funnest bike I have for bumming around town. The 39x16 gearing and platform pedals keep me from getting too serious about being in a hurry, and the tires (the tires!) make sure that I hardly feel the broken, crumbling asphalt beneath me.

I love it. Many thanks to John for the sweet frame.

Sneak a peek at my flèche

2011-04-27T11:12:00.000-07:00

Just when you thought you had all the rules of randonneuring figured out, along comes the flèche.

Those crazy Frenchmen of yore designed a team ride, typically held on or near Easter weekend, that consists of mind-boggling array of crazy rules and regulations, the important ones being:

Riders must be part of a team, consisting of 3-5 members (tandems count as one member)
Teams all head to a common destination from various start locations
Routes must be greater than 360km
The entire ride takes place over 24 hours
No rest stop can exceed 2 hours
No drafting or supporting anyone except members of your own flèche team.
At least 25km must be ridden in the final 2 hours

In other words:

Ride all day and all night with your friends.
Don't stop to sleep.
Ride really far.
Meet up with other teams to talk about how awesome it all was.

I've been looking forward to this ride for quite a while now. My team (the Flèche Eating Zombies) will be riding from noon on Friday to noon on Saturday over a fantastic route of about 430km designed by Joshua Bryant. We'll start in Portland, ride up the Oregon coast, over the Astoria Bridge into Washington, and on up to Olympia, riding as many backroads and hitting as many scenic points as possible:

I'm really looking forward to riding through the entire night and into the next day. I'll try my best to overcome my shitty-photo taking habits in the hopes that I can capture some of the awesomeness that we're sure to encounter. Stay tuned.

Photos from the road

2011-04-19T13:16:00.000-07:00

Back to the 3 Capes

2011-04-04T10:28:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite brevets is the 3 Capes 300K, put on by the Oregon Randonneurs. After doing this ride last year, I was pretty set on doing it again this year as part of my PBP-qualifying series.

This year turned out to be a much soggier, but no less stunning affair. The scenery on this route never fails to disappoint, and I'd be hard pressed to find a brevet of this distance with more to look at.

After making the trip down to Portland the night before and loading up on nutrition (read: beer and veggie dogs) for the upcoming ride, I tucked myself in for a nice 3 hours of sleep on the couch of one very generous Joshua Bryant. 4:00 am comes quickly, and after a quick breakfast and bike check, we headed out for the start.

I was riding with my usual rando crew (Robert and Chris), along with the aformentioned Joshua, and a couple other Oregon folks we met along the way. We stuck together for the better part of the day, and everyone seemed to have about the same tempo, except when Robert would ditch us all on the climbs up the capes (someone ate their Wheaties that morning!).

The initial stretch quickly found us riding through the Tillamook State Forest, making our way towards Tillamook on the Wilson River Highway. It hadn't stopped raining all morning, and the descent with my wet gloves left my hands completely, 100%, totally numb. Steering the bike became an act of faith, and grabbing and squeezing my water bottle was a near impossibility. We stopped at a convenience store in Tillamook and I hurried to the restroom to run my hands under warm water until I could use them again. After the pain subsided and I regained my motor skills, I bought some "food" and a couple pairs of $1.39 gardening gloves. Stuff like that really puts the "convenience" in "convenience store". They ended up serving me well the rest of the ride, as the rain slowed down after that point. I know this isn't my catchphrase to toss around, but "that's rando."

The rest of the day was glorious, as we passed the bays, ocean beaches, dunes, and farmland that make this brevet such a stunner. Good company and good scenery make the kilometers melt away sometimes, and at times (obviously not the whole time) this ride felt more like a Sunday spin with friends than a brevet. We even had a ridiculously vivid rainbow appear near the end of the ride, as we wound our way back to Forest Grove. Theo, one of the Oregon guys we met along the way, managed to capture it best so I have gratuitously stolen his photo and placed it here:

Our group kept a good pace all day, and with no flats and only 2 mechanical mishaps, we ended up clocking in at the finish just hair under 14 hours.

With the 200 and 300K brevets under my belt this year, I just have the 400 and 600km brevets left before I'm all qualified for Paris-Brest-Paris. I get to pre-register for it next weekend, and the butterflies of nervousness and excitement are already starting to form in my stomach. PBP is widely touted as the ride of a lifetime, and it seems that every time I glance at the calendar it gets exponentially closer. I'm going to really have to buckle down to get everything ready in time (my fitness, my saddletime, my equipment, my food choices, and my language skills), but when rides like these are part of the program, I realize how damn lucky I am to be doing all this.

So I guess I'm a MTBer now?!

2011-03-07T22:47:00.000-08:00

As cyclocross season was winding down last year, and I felt myself on the verge of having racing withdrawls, I decided that it would be a good idea to get into mountain biking. I figured it would be great on multiple fronts: I'd get to stay in shape by racing, I could work on my technical skillz (or lack thereof) for next 'cross season, and obviously I'd need a new bike. Funny how the possibility of a new bike can sometimes make any bike-related activity more appealing. (Radball, anyone??)

The multi-talented (not to mention deadly-handsome) Geoff of Baron Bicycle fame provided the bike, and the rest was history. Here she is (I think it's a she), in all her glory:

If you're interested in the bike nerd stats, read on:

OX Platinum tubing
Eccentric BB, should I ever become masochistic enough to run it as a SS
Reba XX fork
Chris King bits (BB, headset, hubs)
X.9 drivetrain
Stan's ZTR Crest tubeless rims with Maxxis Ardent 2.25" tires

It's a much fancier bike than I originally intended, as I was going to get a frame from Geoff and build it up with various bits I would scrounge up. As it turns out, Geoff sold me his bike all built up, since he got a job as a product designer for Santa Cruz. I guess he thinks they're going to give him a bike or 5 when he starts working there. As it stands now, the bike is way better than I am, and I've received a ton of compliments on it already (all while standing still, since no one in their right mind would compliment my MTBing if they saw me in motion).

I've been out to some of the more popular MTB spots near Seattle (Duthie Hill, the Tapeworm trails, North/South Sea-Tac, etc.) and I've been having a blast. I haven't been on an honest-to-gawd MTB since I was a teen, riding my sweet old rigid Trek Singletrack something-or-other up and over the garbage-strewn trails on Beacon Hill in Spokane with my friends.

Sunday morning brought me my first chance to try MTB racing. The West Side MTB Series was holding it's second race of the season out in Black Diamond, and I thought I'd go check it out. While I've been doing "the cyclocross" for over 2 years now, I didn't really know what to expect out of a MTB race. Since 'cross is my reference point, I'll just break down how I thought it differed:

Length: This race was 2 laps on a mostly singletrack curcuit through the woods. My finish time was somewhere around and hour and 20 minutes. I've never raced cross for more than an hour, and I was definitely noticing the extra time towards the end.
Technical difficulty: I'd heard that this was the twistiest, tightest, most technical course in the series, and I believed them. It was probably 95% singletrack, and most of that was filed with sharp turns, roots, rocks, logs, and the like. My poor bike-handling skills definitely got a workout over that hour. Should help me for next 'cross season.
Spectators: Since it's a huge loop in the woods, as opposed to a compact circuit in a park, there's less opportunity for spectating. Most of the spectators were at the start/finish, and the sound of cowbells in my ears was replaced with the sound of my own huffing and puffing. Most of the race was eerily quiet in fact.
Post-race soreness: This race kicked my ass. And my shoulders. And my wrists. And my back. Cross always made me feel exhausted, and sore here and there, but I got WORKED on Sunday. I'm still trying to figure it out.

Overall I had a great time, and I finished pretty well (8th in my category out of about 25-30) and I'd love to get out to some more races this season. The only obstacle to my burgeoning MTB racing career is the fact that I want to ensure that I don't injure myself before PBP. I don't want to screw up my chances for a once-in-a-lifetime ride by thinking that I've got dirt skillz.

SIR Spring Populaire: Back in the saddle

2011-03-07T21:53:00.000-08:00

Like I mentioned a little while ago, I've been slacking on the distance riding as of late. Saturday brought the perfect excuse to get back on the road bike though, since it was the first "official" event on the 2011 SIR calendar.

The Spring Populaire is always a pretty popular event, and it seems to give people a chance to come out of their winter hibernation, shoot the breeze while putting away 100 kilometers, and still be home before dinner. This year seemed a lot bigger than last, judging by the number of people I noticed in the parking lot (UPDATE: I just got an email from SIR saying there were over 140 finishers. Holy crap!)

I was with the usual set of suspects (Chris, Josh, and Robert), but throughout the day I ran into just about every other rando I know, and met a few that I didn't know. The route was fantastic, and the stretch on Elliott Road between Maltby/Snohomish and the Sammamish River Valley was fantastic. Both Chris and were left scratching our heads, since both of us have ridden in that area countless times without ever riding that particular stretch of road.

The sun made a few appearances during the day, rare for Seattle in early March, and the ride was as pleasant as just about any I can recall. Both Chris and I felt strong on the bikes, so we ended up riding pretty swiftly throughout the day, coming into the finish just a few minutes under the 4-hour mark. Pretty damn fast for me, anyways. The route had a couple climbs, but nothing too soul-crushing. The climb up and over Issaquah-Fall City Road is always tough, and tends to split up any group that tries to ride together. I definitely just had to put my head down, shut my mouth, and chug up that stretch.

It was great to be back in the world of randonneuring, and the whole event made me that much more excited for the 2011 season to get underway. The master plan for 2011 is to do a full Super Randonneur series (200, 300, 400 and 600 kilometers), before heading to France for PBP. If everything goes according to this elaborate plan, I'll have the 200 and 300 under my belt before the month is up.

Reunited (and it feels so good)

2011-03-03T10:04:00.000-08:00

After finishing my R-12 quest back in December, I got a little lazy with my rando riding, and the Mercian fell into a bit of disrepair. A snapped rear Honjo fender all but guaranteed that I wouldn't be riding this bike until it was re-fendered, since we're in the midst of another rain-filled winter here in Seattle. When I finally got my act together, and decided to get the Mercian back on the road, I rounded up a few parts and headed to the basement.

After having used the 28mm Grand Bois Cerf tires for the past year and completely falling in love with them (ask any randonneur, it IS possible to fall in love with a tire), I wanted to step it up and try the 32mm Grand Bois Cypres.

crappy cell phone picture #1

It took some sawing, filing, and some hammering, but I managed to squeeze in some 45mm VO stainless fenders underneath the Tektro R538 sidepulls that I have on the bike, with plenty of clearance for the 32mm tires. I've learned quite a bit about installing metal fenders, having done a few pairs now, but they're still tricky to get right. I found Jan Heine's article in the Winter 2010 issue of Bicycle Quarterly to be full of really great tips for not only mounting metal fenders, but mounting them properly. Unfortunately, the article isn't available online, but you can always pick up a hard copy. The fender article alone is worth the price of admission.

crappy cell phone picture #2

My frame is setup to use every last millimeter of the Tektro's 57mm reach, and I squeezed every last bit of clearance I could out of this setup. I honestly don't think anything larger would fit comfortably. Over the years I've learned a lot about what I want out of good rando bike, and someday in the future I'll start over with a blank slate and build up my "ultimate randonneuse". In the meantime, the Mercian is pretty dialed, and these Cypres tires are sublime. I know that this machine will be able to take me though a busy randonneuring season, all the way to Paris-Brest-Paris this summer.

A cyclocross-specific park in King County!?!?!

2011-01-20T17:05:00.000-08:00

I just got an email via the WSBA list from Terry Buchanan (more commonly known as one of the dudes who organizes the awesome MFG Cyclocross series here in Seattle). I almost peed in my pants a tiny bit when I read his message:

CX Community,

King County Parks has approached us about the possibility of developing a
cyclocross specific course/park on county owned land. They have asked us to
outreach to the cyclocross community to gather information on interest in
and preferences for such a park. We would greatly appreciate you completing
the following survey to help guide the investigation of developing a
cyclocross specific course/park on King County owned land,
http://www.surveymonkey.com/s/x8v5cgq. We will be collecting response until
2/2/11. Please only respond one time. Thank you for your input.

Take Care,

Terry Buchanan
Low Pressure Promotions, LLC

How awesome would it be to have a permanent CX course/park somewhere around town? People seem pretty used to the idea of MTB-specific parks now (I-5 Colonnade, Duthie Hill, etc. etc.), and with cyclocross exploding in popularity season after season, this seems like a logical (and highly exciting) conclusion. I've seen how glacially slow ideas and proposals can make their way through the city and county bureaucracies, so I'm not getting my hopes up or anything, but this would be an amazing addition to the cycling amenities of the city/county.

If you think this is a rad idea (and really, if you're reading this, why wouldn't you?) then hit up the link in Terry's message and fill out the survey.

Biking a Hawaiian volcano

2011-01-18T23:09:00.000-08:00

Grace and I recently returned from a trip to Hawai'i. We had conspired to make the trip last summer, knowing that winter would find us bearing down against the cold and rain and endless overcast skies for months on end. Taking a week to visit a place where the days were warmer, longer, and filled with sunshine was probably one of the best vacation planning moves we've ever made.

And did I mention they have volcanoes there? Everyone in these parts knows about Washington's volcanoes, and my love for them is well documented. However, the Hawaiian volcano experience is radically different, due mainly to the fact that each island IS ACTUALLY A VOLCANO. You can't go anywhere in Hawaii without technically being on a volcano, and it's pretty easy to see signs of just exactly how young and active (geologically speaking) the Hawaiian volcanoes really are.

Since part of our time was going to be spent on The Big Island, I wanted to plan a trip to the Volcanoes National Park while we were there, to do some hiking and biking and whatnot.

We rented some mountain bikes from a shop in Kailua, and hauled them up to the volcano, to check out a trail I'd heard about that sounded pretty fun: The Escape Road. Just as it's name implies, the Escape Road is a "road" (really more of a doubletrack trail) that serves as an escape off of Mt. Kiluea should the main road ever get covered by a lava flow. It's also the only trail I've ever ridden that comes with instructions to "close all gates behind you to keep invasive feral pigs from entering the rain forest".

The trail starts off near the Thurston Lava Tube (which is pretty cool to see in it's own right), and heads downhill for miles, first through dense rainforest:

then eventually across a gigantic lava flow that Mt. Kiluea spewed out in 1973:

The transition is startling. One minute you're surrounded by ferns, palm trees, grasses, and lush forest canopy, and within a few feet, you're in the glaring sunlight, surrounded by rocks, bigger rocks, and even more rock. In the photo above, you can almost see the transition from forest to lava flow, trees to no trees.

If you keep riding past the end of the official Escape Road trail (which is easy to do, since it's all downhill), you can connect to another trail that winds around for another few miles before ending near the Hilina Pali overlook, where you can view the ocean from a 2000-foot cliff. Unfortunately, we didn't have enough daylight to ride all the way to Hilina Pali and still make the climb all the way back up to the car, so we found a nice spot to post up and have a little lunch before the big climb back up.

All in all, it was a great day of mountain biking, and the trails were never so technical that we couldn't enjoy the incredible scenery all around us. The doubletrack of most of the trail meant that Grace and I rode most of it side-by-side, and as it turns out, Grace is a pretty fearless descender. Who knew?

The National Park Service actually puts out a trail map of the park that's specific to biking that you can pick up for free at the visitor's center. I found an outdated copy online here, but several of the trails mentioned in it are different than what I saw on my map. The great thing was, despite the popularity of the park with tourists, we didn't see another soul the entire time we were on the trails. Maybe it's the fact that all the trails require a climb back up to the top that keeps the tourists at bay.

Mt. Kiluea was one of the most amazing places we've ever visited, and offered so many things to see in one area, that I have to throw in a few more photos, even though they have nothing to do with biking in any way:

We spent 2 full days in the park, exploring the nooks, crannies, forests, deserts, steam vents, and craters of this amazing place, and it wasn't nearly enough.

Velib, bike-sharing in Paris

2011-01-18T22:08:00.000-08:00

A typical Velib station. Image courtesy of Streetsblog.org

I just watched a great, albeit short, PBS documentary about Velib, the wildly successful bike sharing program in Paris. (You can check out the video here.) The designers have managed to create a program that makes the bike a ubiquitous, cheap, and genuinely convenient feature of urban life in Paris. Part of me wishes that this could happen in a city in the US, and the other part of me thinks that it would never work here.

The bikes are obviously built for a life spent outside (and a city that's mostly flat), and all feature dyno-powered head and taillights, front baskets, chaincases, and all sorts of other uber-practical touches that many cyclists in the US will probably never experience.

Having worked at a car-sharing company for a while (Flexcar, R.I.P.), I found it really interesting to see how the Velib administrators tackled common problems like bike distribution and maintenance. For example, people frequently check out the bikes at the top of a hill, and return them at the bottom of those same hills. In particular, I thought their solution to bike maintenance was brilliant. They outfitted a giant barge to serve as the central repair shop, and they float it up and down the Seine all day, picking up bikes in need of repair, and dropping off fixed bikes in their place. For a city so centered around a major river, it's head-slappingly brilliant.

One of my cycling goals for 2011 is to travel to Paris in August for Paris-Brest-Paris, and even though I'll have my bike with me, I'll be traveling with people who might just need to pick up a Velib.

Fat Bald Men

2010-12-29T20:20:00.000-08:00

I saw this video after Stevil Kinevil posted it on his fantastic blog, All Hail The Black Market. If you didn't already see it there, I'd urge you to watch it now. It's not some 3 minute YouTube clip, it's a full-length documentary, and it's worth every minute.

Just like every other kid that grew up in the 80s, I rode a BMX bike back in the day, but I was never very good. Actually, I was never ANY good, but I had some friends who could seriously tear shit up. Seeing this movie takes me back, when the order of the day would be to ride around and hit the best jumps we could find in the neighborhoods and alleyways of Spokane. Honestly though, it also just made me want to chug a beer, light some shit on fire, and rip it up with some friends.

I've recommended this movie to some of my non-bikey friends, because it's as much about punk rock and the DIY mindset as is it about BMX bikes. If you look hard enough, you'll even find messages about the decline of American manufacturing, life in the small towns of the Midwest, and even the virtues of lifelong friendship. In other words, it's a compelling movie that's worth your hour and change.

My name is Mud

2010-10-29T11:53:00.000-07:00

From now on, when people ask me what cyclocross is, or why I love it so much, I'm just going to send them this:

Cross Crusade Race #4 PIR from Burk Webb on Vimeo.

SUCH an awesome video. I think I've watched it about 10 times already. Plus, it made me remember how much I like Primus.

SSCXWC 2010: Pictures don't do it justice

2010-10-28T16:09:00.000-07:00

This race was was filthy, and I'm not talking about the mud.

Before I go any further, I'd just like to point out that Seattle (and all the race organizers contained therein) made this race what it was: mind-blowingly fun. And yes, I'd done the race before when it was in that much-inferior, wannabe stepchild of Seattle known as Portland, OR.

I'm not really sure how to even begin describing the calamity that is SSCXWC. There are write-ups all over the damn place (like here and here and here and here and here), complete with scandalous pictures to match.

I guess I'll start at the beginning...

SATURDAY was the qualifier, intended to whittle down the field of 300 or so registrants, to something closer to 150 racers. Rather than being a cross race or time trial, the qualifier was an "urban cyclocross alleycat", or something. Heats of 10 riders would leave the Schooner Exact brewery in SoDo every few minutes, making a loop up and over Beacon Hill, along Lake Washington for a spell, then back up and over the hill, through Georgetown, back to the brewery. Along the way, there was singletrack to ride, some checkpoints to hit (complete with embarassing tasks to perform), hills to climb, and thighmasters to.....ummmm....master.

Some people complained about the qualifier being a little odd, given that the main event was a CX race, but those people are dumb, and need to shut up. The route was awesome, and the whole day was a ton of fun.

The qualifier course. Practically my back yard.

Only the top 4 racers from each heat would move on to the main event on Sunday. My heat had about 7-8 people in it, 2 of which dropped the rest of us right off the bat. Geoff (the proprietor of Baron Bicycles) and I found ourselves in 3rd and 4th places, pulling away from the rest of the field. We decided that we'd more or less stick together to keep our places. It was a great plan, but Geoff unfortunately got a flat near the top of the last big hill, and I had to leave him to get swallowed up by the rest of the field. I came in third, and secured my spot in the main event.

CX Magazine had a good little write-up of the event, and some dude who goes by the name "Scatman" made a video of the qualifier:

SUNDAY Was the real deal race, on the same awesome course as the MFG race that preceeded it.
Since (my) words also fail to describe the madness that is the actual SSCXWC race, let me employ the bulleted-list-of-my-favorite-parts approach that I used when describing last year's chaos:

Mud
The flyover (why do we not have one of these at every race?)
So many racers, so few gears
Making insulting jokes about racers from Portland all day
Torrential rains
More beer hand-ups than you could imagine
Getting called out by the announcer, pre-race, for having one of his "favorite costumes" of the day, aka "sexy" lumberjack 2.0
More mud
Impassioned heckling from loads of spectators
Those kids that hit the racers with water balloons
Getting to finish the race despite a broken chain, thanks to my teammate par excellence, the infamous Mr. Mabale.
Even more mud

Some of my favorite images from the day, culled from some of the galleries I've come across so far:

The mass start up the side of the raceway. Photo courtesy of DM Roth

The barriers await, fully stocked.

Andrew. Photo courtesy of robertkphotographer

Jermaine, aka "Business Casual" Photo courtesy of robertkphotographer

This guy's face just makes me dizzy. Photo courtesy of robertkphotographer

My favorite moment of the day probably had to be when I received the hand-up to end all hand-ups: the replacement bike hand-up. I snapped my chain halfway through the race, and spent half a lap running my stupid bike. Just as I was getting ready to exit the course and call it a day, Mike "Soft Like Kitten" Mabale pulled up behind me, handed me his bike and said "Take it! GO!" After taking a second to make sure he was serious, I took off on his awesome, yet WAY too small bike. I managed to finish out the race on his bike, crossing the line while simultaneously ripping my costume open (because, you know.... I was really happy).

Yep. Photo courtesy of DM Roth

That about sums it up. Best race ever. Hopefully reading this has made you realize how much fun you missed out on by not being there. Also, some jerks from Portland made a video of the race that you probably need to check out:

Word has it that the race is going to be in San Francisco next year. All I can say is "ROADTRIP!"

MFG Raceway CX: The big "W" arrives

2010-10-25T22:13:00.000-07:00

"I just won a bike race."

I kept repeating that phrase over and over in my head after I crossed the finish line on Sunday, after 45 minutes of agony in the mud. I had actually entered a competition, and then come out ahead of all the other competitors. I almost couldn't believe it.

In the midst of all the SSCXWC-related happenings this weekend, it would have been easy to overlook the fact that there was a full day of "normal" CX racing happening on Sunday, out at Pacific Raceways in Kent. In addition to being registered (and qualified) for the SSCXWC race, I signed up for the Cat 4 race as well, since I've really been enjoying racing with that group of guys each week.

The course was another muddy slop-fest, much like the Beverly Park race from a few weeks back, but this one threw in some amazing course elements, like some BMX-style whoops (aka "pump track"), a fly-over, and some steep descents followed immediately by steep run-ups. After pre-riding the course, I was ecstatic to ride it for real, no matter how I ended up placing.

The fly-over. Photo courtesy of SpotShot Events.

The whoops

I'd watched the Masters' race before my own, and noticed that there was a huge traffic jam right after the start, as riders filed underneath the fly-over. Riders that made the hole shot were rewarded with a huge gap as people made their way through the narrow opening. Accordingly, I thought I'd try to get out front right away. I got a call up to the front row, based on my series standing, so I was in a good shot to do just that.

When the "gun" went off (meaning they yelled "GO!"), I jumped out front with a few other guys from the front row. I made it under the fly-over with no problems, and proceeded to sit on the leader's wheel for a half-lap or so, watching the lines he chose through the muck. Eventually I passed him when he got tripped up on a slow section.

Passing under the fly-over on the 1st lap. Photo courtesy of SpotShot Events

From there, I split all of my energies between enjoying having the lead, and making sure I didn't wreck or pinch flat. I noticed that I was opening up a gap on the rest of the field, but I didn't want to squander it by getting careless. The thick mud made it a quad-burning slog, but I think I've found that I do pretty well under such circumstances. Beverly Park had had similar conditions, and had been my best finish to date, so maybe I'm built for the mud.

Must have been the first lap; I'm too clean. Photo courtesy of Dennis Crane.

I hammered out the long laps, trying to find good lines through the muck, almost incredulous that I was still out in front. I fully expected to hear someone breathing down my neck at any moment. Towards the end of the final lap, I saw one rider closing the gap, but it looked like I still might have it. I checked over my shoulder, put my head down, and gave everything I had left on the final asphalt stretch to the finish.

And I won. I fucking WON! It still feels good to say, some 36 hours later. I'm going to savor this as much as possible, because I'm sure I won't have too many more moments like this. Especially next year, when I jump into the big pool and give the Category 3s a shot. Back of the pack here I come!

I'm just glad I got to taste a tiny bit of victory first. It tasted like mud.

Seattle - Port Townsend - Seattle

2010-10-19T22:50:00.000-07:00

Oh Seattle, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways...

Actually, the other day I had about 250 reasons to love the place that I live, one for each kilometer of the gorgeous ride that I took. Less than 24 hours after the slop-fest that was my last CX race, I was able to take a stunning ride from my front door, crossing islands and skirting the water, in beautiful, crisp, fall weather. Seriously, where else in the country can you do something like that? (Don't try to answer that. It's rhetorical.)

After riding to the ferry terminal and hopping on the almost empty boat, I joined up with the following route. It takes you across Bainbridge Island on highway 305, which would normally suck, but there isn't much traffic at 6:30AM or so on a weekday. After a jaunt up through the Suquamish reservation, and the idyllic town of Port Gamble, you ~~get to~~ have to cross the Hood Canal Bridge. It might be scenic and nice in a car, just it's always windy, glass-strewn and noisy on a bike.

From there, it's mostly scenic and pleasant back roads, many of them along the Sound, with a few detours into areas like Marrowstone Island and Gibbs Lake. One of my favorite parts of the ride is the section of the hardpack Olympic Discovery Trail that takes you into Port Townsend. It's a great way to enter the town, even if the signage leaves a bit to be desired (what bike trail doesn't?).

Port Townsend is a great place to take a break, refill your water, and get some real food in your stomach. I found plenty of solid and tasty vegetarian food, probably due to the prevalence of all the aging hippies in town. More and more, I'm realizing that the quality of my food is directly related to the quality of my longer rides.

The return leg takes you along Discovery Bay, and through "downtown" Poulsbo, before going back across the Hood Canal Bridge, and back across Bainbridge.

I did the ride as part of my ongoing R-12 quest (only 2 more months to go!), but I'd do this ride again anytime in a heartbeat. It was a little harder than most of the 200Ks I've done in and around Seattle, but it more than makes up for it with scenery. In fact, I think the images from the ride do a much better job of convincing you that this was an amazing day on the bike than any of my words could, so with that:

Cyclocross 2010: And on Sunday.....there was mud.

2010-10-13T12:08:00.000-07:00

So yeah, there was a race on Sunday, and it was muddier than muddy. The second race in the Seattle Cyclocross (SCX) series was held at Beverly Park Elementary, just south of South Park. I always appreciate when race organizers are able to find venues close to the city, and this one was actually close enough to ride to in a reasonable amount of time.

I met up with a group of friends that morning who were both racing and spectating (spectatoring?), and we made the short trip up to the school. After sneaking in a few practice laps, I was amazed at how much variety was packed into the compact course:

2 run ups (a long, blackberry bramble-filled hill, and a shorter, muddier hill)
2 sets of barriers
long, painful, soggy grass/mud bog sections
a quick downhill, followed by a quick trip on a running track
a short stretch of asphalt for "recovery"

I spent the rest of the pre-race time chatting with my fellow racers about the mayhem that we all knew would ensue. I've learned that if there are 3 things that cyclocrossers love most, it would be the following:

Talking about and comparing tires and tire pressures
Talking about the weather, and it's effect on the course
Taking photos of their muddy bikes after the race

I'm not saying it's a bad thing. In fact, I enjoy all of the above quite a bit. Exhibit A:

I usually run about 35 psi in my Michelin Mud 2 clinchers
This past weekend, it rained a shit-ton, and the course at Beverly Park was muddier than anything in recent memory
Here's what things looked like post-race:

My bike

Andrew's bike

Sally's bike

I think this pretty much summed up some people's experience on the course:

Photo courtesy of Laurie O'Brien

I somehow had a great race, despite all the energy-sucking mud and the slippery, technical sections. I finished 7th out of 75 or so Cat 4 riders; my best finish of the season so far. I might have had 6th place, but I got passed by a rider right at the end who was smart enough to start running through one particular muddy section earlier than I did. I know that the toe-spikes I installed the night before definitely saved me from falling on my face on at least one of the mud-slicked run-ups on the course.

Me before I had a chance to really get dirty. Photo courtesy of SpotShot Events

There are more lots more great photos from the race available here, here, here, and here.

Also, Cyclocross Magazine has a great write-up of the race, including a video of the carnage and highlights (for those of you who are only interested in seeing the mud-porn sections of the video).

This will be my first non-racing weekend in the last 5 weeks (I'm going out of town), but I'm already excited for the next race: the infamous SSCXWC!

DIY handlebar bag

2010-10-04T21:50:00.000-07:00

As any good randonneur knows, having a handlebar bag is a huge boon during a long ride. Being able to access your food, clothing, camera, etc. without having to pull over, or get into some hard-to-reach pocket somewhere is reason enough to get on the handlebar bag wagon. Add in the fact that a good handlebar bag rack makes a perfect place to mount a dyno-powered light, and you've got a pretty compelling case to set your bike up with one.

I've got a saddle bag from Acorn that I totally love, and will use for years and years to come, but with each long ride I did this summer, I found myself really wanting all the conveniences that a good handlebar bag has to offer. So, when I saw this thread come up on a newsgroup I read, I thought "Hey, we should give that a shot. How hard could it be?" As it turns out, it's pretty damn hard. But wait... I'm getting ahead of myself.

Grace and I headed out to Seattle Fabrics, and got all the fabric, velcro, and assorted doodads we'd need to complete the pattern as given. I started with some black coated Cordura fabric. Traditionally, a good handlebar bag would be made out of cotton duck, but I wanted to try something a little different (that, and they didn't have any suitable cotton duck).

While the pattern and directions call for making your own seam binding/edging out of the same material as the rest of the bag, Grace and I quickly realized that this is a metric ton of work, and seam binding is available really cheap, in a variety of colors. If you still want to make your own, knock yourself out, but the pre-made seam binding worked like a charm.

I took the pattern to Kinko's and had them print it out on one large sheet of paper, since the pattern PDF is actual size, rather than scaled down fit on a standard 8 1/2x 11" page. They were able to do it in seconds for a buck or two.

First, we cut out all the pattern pieces:

Then we pinned them to the fabric, cut out the pieces, and transferred over all the relevant markings with a fabric pencil:

We added a nice bright reflective strip to the front pocket flap for added safety, and some additional color contrast. You can see just how reflective it ended up being:

The pockets came together fairly quickly, and got attached to the main body of the bag without much trouble. The seam binding, while simple, ended up taking a ton of time to get right. You can tell what a meticulous job Grace did getting the binding to lay flat around the rounded corners of the pockets. She used a spray bottle of water and an iron to coax the fabric around the corners. Sounds easy, but I'm still not sure how she was able to do it.

Here's the main body of the bag, with the main front pocket, two small rear pockets, and the top map case all attached. All that's left now is to sew on the sides, cover up all the edges with seam binding, and attach hardware!

Putting the sides on to the bag ended up being quite challenging, due mainly to the fact that Grace's old sewing machine just didn't have the guts to power through the multiple layers of Cordura and seam binding. After many frustrating attempts to get the machine to cooperate, we ended up forgoing electricity altogether, with me turning the hand wheel of the machine while Grace guided the fabric underneath the needle. It took the "machine" out of "sewing machine", but it was the only way we were going to get all the stitches in.

The pattern didn't call for it, but we added two velcro flaps to the bottom of the bag a la the Acorn handlebar bag, to help keep everything secure and square on the front rack.

Here's the bag with all the sewing complete:

As great as the bag looks, it wouldn't work at all without some internal stiffener to help it keep it's shape, and to provide some structure to the whole assembly. For that task, I turned to everyone's favorite construction material: coroplast. Luckily, we'd just finished some local elections here in Seattle, so supplies were plentiful:

For the record, I am not endorsing Rob Holland for Port Commision. I have no idea if he'd make a shitty Port commissioner or not.

The pattern didn't give any dimensions for the stiffener, so I just eyeballed it, cutting a piece intentionally large, and trimming it down until the fit was snug, but not tight enough to stress the seams. A large "U" shaped piece formed the majority of the stiffener:

To finish off the stiffener, I cut some thin strips, and connected the tops of the "U" shape along the left and right sides of the bag. To fasten the pieces of coroplast together, I used a couple zip ties. Like the coroplast, they're cheap, plentiful, and weigh almost nothing.

To finish off the entire bag, I added the eyelets, hook closure, and elastic cord to the top flap, forming the closure for the main bag compartment. I don't have a good picture of that assembly, but it's the same method that's used on these Berthoud bags.

I also added a couple of D-rings to the sides of the bag, to allow for attaching a shoulder strap, or for lashing extra items to the top of the bag with small bungee cords (Which, by the way, works fantastically. I've tried it.)

Total price: somewhere in the neighborhood of $25-35. Total time spent sewing: uhhhh, a ton.

When it was all said and done, Grace (who did the vast majority of the sewing) said, "Now I see why those bags cost $200. Actually, why don't they cost more than that?". Of course, this entire endeavor wasn't just about the cost, since the cost of the bike I'm attaching it to makes saving $150 or so seem less significant. It was more about seeing if it could be done by a couple of laypeople (laypersons?), and with what results. I ended up with a bag that's well constructed, functional, and completely one of a kind.

The pattern I used is available here, and the directions are here.

Once I figure out how to organize and add my changes/clarifications/feedback into the pattern and instructions, I'll update these documents. Some of the steps were pretty confusing, and both Grace and I ended up making some changes that makes the whole process go smoother.

Once I'd added a decaleur to the bag, it was time to put it into service. I've been on several brevets and long rides with it so far, and it's performed flawlessly. The map pocket isn't 100% waterproof, but I usually tape up my cue sheets and brevet cards or put them in a ziplock if I think they might get wet. The combination of the decaleur on the back and velcro flaps on the bottom keep the bag mounted solidly to the rack, and the bag has been the perfect size for a long day's worth of tools, clothes, and food.

Here's a few shots of it doing what it does best: sitting on the front of my bike, holding stuff.

Yes, I know I don't have a chain on my bike. That's a whole other story...

Huge thanks to Grace for helping me sew this beast, and to William deRosset for posting the pattern and directions. If anyone else ends up making a bag using this pattern, I'd love to see how it turns out!

Starcrossed 2010: Bigger, badder, muddier-er

2010-09-22T00:01:00.000-07:00

If you're at all familiar with NW cyclocross, then you've no doubt heard of Starcrossed. The first twilight CX race in the country seems to bring bigger fields and bigger names every year, and this year was no exception.

This was my first year actually racing in Starcrosssed, but after being a part of the entire extravaganza, it certainly won't be my last. The lowly Cat 4s don't actually race under the lights like the big boys do, but it's a pretty spectacular race nonetheless. It's all centered around the velodrome at Marymoor Park in Redmond. Tons of spectators crowd the beer garden (positioned in the middle of the velodrome infield for maximum spectating), as well as the twists and turns that wind in and out of the velodrome. More spectators = more fun racing.

The race went pretty well for me, although I blew up a little earlier into the 45 minute race than I would have liked. Once again, I got passed by a couple guys that had more left in the tank than I did towards the end of the bell lap. I ended up placing 24th out of 70 or so riders, so it was still a decent day on the bike.

After the sun went down and the lights came on, the Elite riders came out to play. The course had been getting more and more torn up throughout the day, and the rain came just in time for the UCI Elite Men's race. Ryan Trebon, Jonathan Page, and Barry "Wicknasty" Wicks were just a few of the big names that made it out for the race. Christian Heule and Francis Mourey (the French national cyclocross champion) were among the Euro pros that began their season in Seattle this year.

Cyclocross - Starcrossed 2010 from Geoff Agnew on Vimeo

Trebon and Heule over the logs

Barry Wicks is so tall, he doesn't fit in my photos

The race began with Francis Mourey opening up a pretty huge gap on the rest of the field. Eventually, Ryan Trebon was able to claw his way up to Mourey, and the rest of the race saw the two of them fighting it out. Mourey clung to Trebon's wheel lap after lap, obviously waiting to attack right at the end. The attack came sometime while they were out of my view, but in the end, Mourey prevailed.

The finish (photo by Joe Sales)

It was a great night (as long as you had good rain gear) to watch some fantastic bike racing, and the Starcrossed venue lent itself well to actually seeing various sections of the race without having to schlep all over the place. It's probably a good thing that I planned on getting up early the next day to race the Rad Racing GP, otherwise I might have stayed up way too late indulging in the requisite post-race beers.

The elusive double-headed poncho monster. Photo by bunnyhawk

MFG Kick-Off Cross 2010: Waffles and Cowbells and Beer, oh my!

2010-09-17T13:06:00.000-07:00

Cyclocross 2010 got underway for me last weekend with the first race in the MFG series: Kick-Off Cross. I did this race last year, and had a blast. The MFG guys always have great courses, and their race days seem to have a much more relaxed atmosphere than some other races I've been to.

Although I'm in horrible shape compared to most of the racers out there, I wasn't getting onto the cross bike completely cold, thanks to a little cross practice in the woods, and a few weeks of Cross Club (although all the beer from Cross Club probably negated any possible fitness I might have gained).

Cross Club!

After watching a few friends in the Cat 4 Masters race (sorry about the flat Mike), I stripped down my my race duds and headed up to the line. To say that the fields were large on Sunday would be a complete understatement. Cyclocross' exploding popularity was in full effect in almost every field. I think more than 75 riders started in my race.

Since there weren't any call-ups, I had to jockey pretty hard to make my way to the front of the pack after the start. The course was virtually unchanged from the year before, and included a few singletrack sections that were going to make passing a little tricky.

Mud!

I felt pretty good on the bike overall and found myself in a decent placing for most of the race, but I did end up hitting a little bit of a wall around 30 minutes in (there's that lack of fitness!). I ended up losing probably 6-8 spots on my last lap or two, as fresher guys passed me. A generous beer hand-up from the infamous "Sally from Raleigh" provided just enough hydration and nutrients to get me across the finish line. When all was said and done I ended up 27th out of 71 finishers, which was just about the same as last year, considering the larger field.

Afterwards, there was plenty of beer and food to keep everyone company through the rest of the racing. I sauntered down to the woods where the mud was to get a better view of the tricky sections. I quickly found that my puny cowbell was no match for the megaphone beside me (best spectator idea ever).

Photo courtesy of Karen Johanson

It was a great start to the season, and a pretty good wake-up call that I need to get my shit in gear if I want to compete this year. This weekend is Starcrossed (lights! velodrome! Euro pros!) and the Rad Racing GP (sand! sand! more sand!). Wish me luck. Us Cat 4's need all we can get.

Gratuitous post-race muddy downtube shot

My volcano is better than your volcano

2010-09-06T14:56:00.000-07:00

When the conversation over which mountain in the US is the best comes up (and honestly, you can't tell me it doesn't come up all the time), I think we can all agree that Mt. Rainier is the biggest and baddest of them all. In the words of one of my fellow cyclists, "it's willingness to fuck shit up at a moment's notice" is something that demands to be reckoned with.

Mt. Rainier defines any scene it's a part of, whether it's driving south on the aptly-named Rainier Ave towards my 'hood, or on the side of a beer can, and it was only fitting that I get around to riding up it at some point.

There's a pretty straightforward 200K ride that goes up to Sunrise, the highest elevation you can reach on Rainier by road. As you'd expect, it's 100K of climbing, and 100K of descending.

The trip up the mountain is breathtaking, with plenty to look at to keep your mind off the miles and miles of non-stop climbing. The surroundings are part Western Washington, with fir and ferns packed into the dense old-growth forest, and part Eastern Washington, with the arid piney scent that I grew up smelling.

Since I went on a weekday, there wasn't as much traffic going up and down the mountain either, so I had many stretches where I could just chug up the mountain in near silence, with only the sound of my breath and purr of my drivetrain to keep me company.

The top gives you a chance to admire the mountain, catch your breath, and eat some food before you fly back down. (NOTE: The cafeteria at the top of Sunrise is probably the most overpriced and dismal cafe you can imagine. Bring your own food, no matter what. You have been warned).

Screaming down the mountain was great, even for a timid descender like myself. I watched over 35 minutes fly by without me having to offer so much as a single pedal stroke. The trip back down Highway 410 isn't as much of a fun descent as you'd think though, since there's a strange headwind that's always blowing up the mountain on that stretch. No one likes to have to pedal down a hill.

Since this ride, I've been back to Rainier several times, both on and off the bike. I know that I'll be drawn back to this mountain over and over as the years go by, and I'm fortunate to have it right in my backyard.

600K is (obviously) a long way to ride.

2010-09-06T14:10:00.000-07:00

Hello? Anybody? Is this thing on? Remember when I would write blog entries here, about various bikey-type things I would do? Those were the days....

So, obviously I've fallen off the blogging wagon lately. The good news is, I haven't stopped riding since then. I just took a break from writing about riding, you know, since it's so hard.

All kidding aside, something that IS hard is riding your bike 600 kilometers (~ 373 miles) at a stretch. It's certainly something I didn't see myself doing this year when I decided to give the whole rando thing a shot. I had anticipated banging out a bunch of really scenic 200 and 300K rides, and giving myself a hearty pat on the back. Throughout 2010 though, I'd been doing longer and longer brevets, and given the encouragement (read: peer pressure) from a few other, more experienced randos, I decided that I needed to go for 600K.

Doing a 600 would give me the distinction of having acheived Super Randonneur status (pretty cool), and everyone I talked to was really excited about this 600 in particular. Tales of the scenery we'd encounter on our journey through the Cascades and over the 4 mountain passes on the ride implanted themselves in my head, and before long I'd mentally committed myself to doing the ride.

That's when disaster (of sorts) struck. As I wrote before, I screwed my back up pretty badly a few days before the brevet, and was in loads of pain. Against the wishes of my wiser and more level-headed partner Grace, I loaded up some painkillers alongside my food and water and headed out for what I hoped would be my defining brevet of 2010. The funny thing was, riding didn't actually hurt my back, but doing any sort of transition (getting on and off the bike, lying down, standing up, etc.) would send shooting pains up and down my spine. Yeah, stupid of me, I know.

Not wanting to be a "Negative Nelly" during the ride, I tried to keep my bitching to a minimum and keep my eyes open for all the scenery I'd been promised. The brevet truly delivered on that front:

After working our way up through the Snoqualmie River valley, and up over Stevens Pass to Leavenworth, we headed down to Ellensburg via Blewitt Pass. The mountains, snow, rivers, waterfalls, and Tolkein-esque valleys rolled passed with almost alarming frequency. With or without painkillers, this was undoubedtly the most scenic and awe-inspiring ride I'd been on.

We swung down near Selah and Yakima, and rode through the Yakima River Gorge as the sun was setting. Bats were flying overhead in the twilight, and I was almost overcome with the absolute beauty of what I was seeing. Being able to go from Western Washington farmland, through the awe-inspring Cascades, to ride through a desert gorge all in one day is truly something that Washingtonian randonneurs should remember and cherish. Where else in the country can riding like this take place?

After the gorge, darkness set in, and for the first time, I actually found myself wanting to nod off while on the bike. Even with the wind in my face, and riding companions both in front and behind me, my body wanted to shut down for the night. We still had to start the climb up Highway 12 towards White Pass, reaching our overnight at Rimrock Lake. By the time we rolled in, it had to be about 3 am.

After convincing my back to let me get off the bike and lay down, I nodded off for a glorious few hours of sleep. I woke up maybe 2 hours later, stumbled through a quick plate of pancakes, and headed out into the rain for the climb up White Pass. After that, it was a bone-chilling descent down White Pass, followed quickly by a climb up Cayuse Pass, which tops out at 4,675 feet.

Honestly, the rest of the ride coming down off Cayuse pass, and winding back up to Issaquah was pretty much a blur. The realization that I'd pretty much done it made the last kilometers fly by.

So, in the end, I completed my Super Randonneur series for the year, some some amazing sections of my state, and kept my back in one piece (just barely).

Amazing brevet, amazing terrain, and one very lucky rider/blogger.

The worst day on a bike...

2010-06-01T15:10:00.000-07:00

...is better than the best day at work.

My dad has been known to utter this phrase from time to time, with the phrase "on a bike" replaced with "fishing". Regardless of what hobby you substitute, the maxim holds true. Any day spent doing something you love is better than doing something you're forced to do. Unless you are employed saving orphans from burning buildings, taste-testing ice cream, or cuddling puppies for a living, chances are you probably don't get suuuper excited about going to work every day.

Which is why I feel like I should stop my bitching. You see, I, like many Americans had the day off work on Monday. I decided to take a break from my strenuous schedule of eating amazing food all weekend by taking a little jaunt on the ol' bicycle, something that would normally bring me much joy. It ended up bringing me nothing but pain (literally).

As Murphy would predict, it started pissing rain the second I emerged from the front door with my bike, and didn't let up until I was cresting the hill back to my house, at which point it became sunny and warm. I had tweaked my back the day before, probably while doing yardwork, but I figured it might work itself out during the course of the ride. Wrong. The pain steadily got worse as I made my way from Seattle towards the Cascade foothills east of Issaquah. By the time I hit Duthie Hill Road I was in no small amount of agony. I decided to cut things a little shorter than I had planned and make a quick loop to head back.

On my way back up towards I-90, I took a pleasant shortcut, one I've taken many times, through a quiet park and up some switchbacks to get to the I-90 bike trail:

switchbacks to the I-90 trail

While I coasted slowly over a pedestrian bridge, suddenly my bike slipped completely out from under me, and I found myself kissing the pavement. I had come down pretty hard, but I didn't understand why. After gathering myself, I stepped onto the bridge to find that it was icy-slick, almost impossible to stand on without slipping. There was a coating of slimy-mossy-moisture coating the bridge. Ugh.

slippery as shit!

So, the long and short of it is, my back is now killllling me, and I've got my first 600K brevet to ride this weekend. How am I supposed to ride this:

when I'm currently hobbling around like an old man, popping ibuprofen like it's going out of style?

I'll tell you how: by remembering the maxim I mentioned earlier. I mean, how bad could it be to ride your bike all day (and I do mean alllllll day) through some gorgeous parts of the state? I could be working.

Speaking of gorgeous scenery, I'll leave you all with this image of Jobst Brandt climbing the Gavia Pass in the Italian Alps. Is his back hurting? Even if it was, who cares?

(image courtesy of Bike Intelligencer)

The ride will cross the Cascades, go over 4 mountain passes, and skirt the mighty Mt. Rainier. Wish me luck.....I'm going to need it.

SSCXWC returns: Seattle 2010

2010-06-01T11:38:00.000-07:00

(image courtesy of sscxwc)

Just registered for the madness that is SSCXWC. Actually, I registered at 12:01 AM last night (yeah, I'm that excited about it okay?) Handmade numbers from Dank Bags go to the first 50, and if I get my choice, you know I'm going for 666.

Registration is still open, and if you're on the fence, ask yourself these simple questions:

Do you live in/near Seattle?
Do you own a bike (or can you steal one from a friend) that'll fit some cyclocross tires?
Do you like mud? And beer? And bike-related mayhem?

If you find yourself nodding away, then sign up immediately. Last year was a blast, and there's no way that this year could be any less awesome.

SIR Spring 400K: To the coast and back

2010-05-19T09:42:00.000-07:00

Before I get too far into this post, I just have to point out that Robert has a damn fine write-up of this very ride, over at his blog. He always beats me to the blog-o-sphere with the ride reports, but I'll try to come up with some things he left out.

With that said, let's dive in.

This was my first 400K, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit nervous in the days leading up the ride. I mean, that's 250 miles! I felt good on the 300K I did a few weeks prior though, so I knew I had a fighting chance. I hooked up with Chris, Robert, and Joshua while waiting for the ferry over to the start in Bremerton, and ended up sticking with them for the entire ride. Jan Heine was there on a gorgeous Bilenky 650B tandem that he was testing for the next issue of BQ. He was pretty mum on his impressions thus far, simply saying "you'll read about it". Not sure who his stoker was, but I heard after the ride that they were the first finishers, coming in at somewhere just over 13 hours. Insane, I tell you.

The ferry ride over was more entertaining than any 6AM ferry I've ever been on, thanks mostly to the high school Jesus choir that threw down some songs on the way over. I couldn't stop watching one kid who either didn't know any of the words, or didn't care enough to sing along. He look really jaded and obviously wasn't as excited about Jesus as the rest of his peers.

After a quick debriefing right outside the ferry terminal, we were off. Unlike on previous rides, I took it easy right from the get-go. The first few dozen miles or so were on some pretty shitty stretches of road and highway shoulder. Lots of debris and traffic and whatnot. I'm just glad that I made it through that initial stretch without a flat. Things got nicer from there, as we headed out towards Shelton, on our way towards Elma, Aberdeen, and ultimately, the coast.

Riding in a nice relaxed paceline with 3 strapping gentlemen made things go nicely, and there was plenty of banter and goofing off to make the kilometers go by. The only mechanical issue was a single flat that Joshua got just outside of Montesano. Here's the gang, during the flat break, plus another guy (Ryan?, Bryan?) that rode with us for bit:

It would be pretty easy for someone to start getting on your nerves after hanging out with them for a solid 20+ hours, not to mention when you're tired and/or hungry and/or uncomfortable. Luckily, none of these dudes seem to be able to rub me the wrong way (and yes, I know that sounds dirty).

After widing our way through Montesano, Cosmopolis, and Westport, we arrived at the coast! More specifically, Westhaven State Park. I'd been there before with Grace on an impulsive "let's drive to the coast" road-trip a few years back, and it was cool to be back there in a completely different context. I got the same feeling on the 300K, after riding on some of the same coastal roads that Grace and I had ridden on a previous bike tour. The food at the SIR-manned control there totally hit the spot, and all the volunteers were ridiculously nice. They offered to take my bike, to fill my water bottles, to make me a sandwich, etc etc. I'm definitely going to have to volunteer on one of these brevets to make up for what I owe to all the volunteers so far.

I managed to snap a picture of the hippies that Robert mentioned in his ride report. The lady with the guitar was not only reeeeallllly stoned, but also very enthusiastic about the sport of randonneuring, and she had lots of questions and encouragement for us.

To steal a Bike Snob aphorism: "All you hippies cheer my randonneuring".

Refreshed and refueled, we headed south along the coast for a bit, on our way down to the town of Raymond. Somewhere along that stretch, one of us spotted a black bear crossing the road up ahead. I tried frantically to grab my camera and get a picture, but it ran up into the woods well before I finished fumbling with the camera. It was only the third time I've ever seen a bear, and pretty odd considering where we were. Do bears really hang out on ocean beaches?

After heading back inland, we went back through Montesano and Elma, hitting the rolling hills of Highway 101 headed north. Believe it or not, I think we were all kind of happy to hit some climbs. Not because we're masochists (any more than most randos anyway), but because it broke up some of the monotony of pancake-flat riding. None of the climbs were too epic, and the downhills were a nice chance to get above 25-30kph and feel the proverbial "wind in the face".

It was shortly after this section that we started to lose the rest of the daylight, and I eagerly awaited the onset of darkness. I've always enjoyed riding at night for some reason, and I was excited to spend some good solid hours of riding in real darkness. We ended up finishing somewhere around 1:00 AM, so I got plenty of night riding under my belt. With the right equipment, riding at night can be really enjoyable.

We stopped about 15-20 kilometers from the finish to get some beers, in preparation for congratulating ourselves on a job well done. While we were stopped, a large group of riders passed by us, and we resolved to catch them and pass them before the finish. Ostensibly, it was about beating them to the finish and snagging some of the available hotel beds that SIR had provided us, but I think it was really just something to get us motivated to finish strong. We hauled ass for those last few kilometers, and made sure that we weren't "leaving anything in the tank" at the end. My legs were protesting, but it felt right to finish strong after such a long day in the saddle, rather than limping across the line.

We rolled in at just under 18 and a half hours (pretty damn good, I think). Beers were consumed, jokes were told and laughed at by delirious comrades, and a few hours of sleep were procured. We caught the ferry back to Seattle at 7:30AM and I spent Sunday alternating between napping, eating, and talking about how tired I was.

I think that during this ride I convinced myself (with the help of a little peer pressure) to do one of the upcoming 600K brevets, and complete a whole Super Randonneur series. Looking back to the beginning of the year, and my riding goals at that time, it seems crazy to think that I'd be contemplating a 600K. When I started all of this madness, I just planned on riding a bunch of 200s and getting the R-12 award. While I'm still planning on getting the R-12, I find myself one brevet (albeit a loooong one) away from achieving Super Randonneur. How can I not attempt it?

Here's a map of the full route for the curious.

Sometimes I take shorter rides too...

2010-04-19T23:44:00.000-07:00

If you're reading this in Seattle, you already know how nice the weather was on Sunday. We Seattleites have to take advantage of those 58 clear days per year to get outside and enjoy them (at least, that's how I justified it to myself, instead of doing yardwork).

Grace and I took a ride around the south end, hitting up some of the more scenic spots in the area. One of the many things I love about living here is that you can ride around (or walk, or stumble, whatever) all day and still be near an amazing body of water. How many other big cities can claim that? (I'm looking at you, Portland) Yep, the scenery doesn't lie.

Grace's Hillborne, looking fantastic on the shores of Puget Sound:

and then later, climing the ridiculously steep Shorewood Drive, near Burien:

Mt. Rainier, looking like the badass that it is, off of 3 Tree Point:

We capped off the afternoon with lunch at the edge of the runway at Boeing Field, from the nearby Japanese market:

Nice day, nice ride, nice company, and MUCH better than yardwork.

3 capes and 300K

2010-04-15T17:25:00.000-07:00

cape (n.):
a point or body of land extending into a body of water, usually the sea.

Last weekend, I headed down to Oregon (also known as "Washington's Mexico") to ride the 3 Capes 300K, put on by the Oregon Randonneurs. If you take nothing else away from the following ride report, just believe me when I say it was an incredibly gorgeous ride.

If you ponder the definition of "cape" above, you'll understand that a brevet designed to pass through 3 capes all in one sitting is pretty much guaranteed to be scenic and awesome. Oddly enough, the brevet had to be postponed from the weekend before, because they were predicting snow on the climb going through Tillamook State Forest. The postponement was good news for me, since I was busy on the original weekend.

The ride started and ended in the 'burbs of Portland, in the town of Forest Grove. As riders materialized out of the darkness and stumbled around the parking lot at 5:30 am, I ran into a few folks from Seattle that I recognized. Robert invited me to join a few other riders that he planned on sticking with, and I took him up on it. Even my sleepy, caffeine-deprived mind could tell that having some company during a long day on the saddle would be a good idea.

The route:

The ride headed west, and took us through some pretty amazing country as we headed towards our big climb, and ultimately, the coast. The rivers, forest, and relatively quiet roads are something I've always loved about riding these brevets, and something I hope I never take for granted as a PNWesterner. In 300 kilometers, we rode through forests, the coast, flat farmlands, and sand dunes. I think I mentioned to someone during the ride that I feel sorry for people that enjoy taking long rides like these, but live in places without the stunning scenery we have around here (no offense to any readers in S. Dakota, Nebraska, etc.)

After having rolled into the first control in one huge group, things started to split up on our big climb on the Wilson River Highway. The descent on the other side was great, with wide shoulders, relatively smooth roads and not too much to get in the way or slow us down. I'm usually a total wuss when it comes to descending, or getting the bike much above 55kph (~35mph), but I had a great time bombing down that pass.

Having gotten split up from everyone, I made my way west to Tillamook solo, meeting back up with Joshua and Robert while waiting for the bathroom at a convenence store. We did a pretty good job of sticking together for the next 100K or so, while riding near places that looked like this:

and this:

Pretty rough, right? I'd actually ridden some of these roads before, on a bike tour that Grace and I had taken down the Oregon coast around this time last year. It was cool revisiting some of those same climbs and beautiful roads, this time with different companions (and without all the camping gear on the bike).

We made a stop in Pacific City for some food, and I demolished a bowl of split-pea soup. It was a little on the bland side, but it was "real food", and it was hot, which counted for a lot. Believe me, I love myself some energy bars, and Shot Blox and potato chips, and peanuts, etc etc, but I think I have a lower tolerance for going long stretches of time without a little "real food" than most of the randos I've observed. The topic of what to eat while on a ride like this is a topic all it's own, but suffice it to say that your food choices can very easily make or break an entire ride.

After re-grouping in the town of Grand Ronde at another convenience store, we immediately got split up again while pulling out onto a busy stretch of highway. Joshua fell off the back, and some others pulled away off the front, leaving Robert and I do ride the last 100K or so by ourselves. We decided to not kill ourselves trying to hold some gnarly pace, opting instead to relax a little and chat our way back into Forest Grove. The company was great, and my only complaint is how hungry I got while talking about restaurants. I began to fantasize about a cold beer, some pizza, and brunch all at the same time.

It's become pretty apparent to me that good company makes the kilometers go by faster, especially on a ride that lasts the better part of a day. Not to mention the fact that you can occasionally fall back behind a wheel and get out of the wind for a bit. I've had lots of people give me advice about "riding my own ride", rather than trying too hard to stick with a group that's keeping a faster pace than you can sustain for 12-plus hours. It's great advice, but that also means that riding with others only works if you're all willing to keep a similar pace. I guess that's a long-winded way of saying thanks to Robert for keeping the same pace as me for 4 hours or so.

The knee troubles that I'd experienced on my last brevet didn't resurface at all, and I have to give all the credit to Grace, who's always telling me I need to stretch more. I've been trying to stretch regularly, focusing on my legs, and I think it paid off big time.

Overall, I had an awesome time (especially eating here and here the next day in Portland), and this ride left me feeling really confident about the upcoming 400K that I've signed up for. I wasn't really looking forward to jumping straight from 200K to 400K without something in between, so I guess I have the snow to thank for readjusting the brevet schedules.

Some more pics:

This has nothing to do with bikes

2010-04-14T16:18:00.000-07:00

We have a photographer neighbor that took some stupidly awesome photos of Grace and I. I just wanted to show a few of them off somewhere, and I'm trying my best to ignore the fact that I'm on Facebook.

Long weekend on Lopez Island

2010-04-05T18:42:00.000-07:00

Grace and I took a long weekend to spend some time on Lopez Island, and we had a fantastic time. It wasn't a bike camping trip, since early April is still pretty dicey weather-wise. We ended up staying in a great little modern house and just bringing the bikes along.

image courtesy of visitsanjuans.com

There was a HUUUGE wind/rain storm Friday night that made us feel certain that the entire island would be blown into Puget Sound, but other than that, the weather was on our side. Lopez is amazingly flat considering it's an island, and small (something like 15 miles by 8 miles) so the biking we did was pretty leisurely and relaxed. There's really no traffic at all (at least during this time of year, when tourism is minimal), so every road on the island is a biking road. We checked out some of the beaches and parks that are scattered around the island, and I made a mental note to come back to one of them for some future bike camping.

The island is pretty rural, and is full of wildlife and livestock as a result. Over the course of a few days, we saw deer, cows, horses, goats, sheep, pheasants, emu(??), pigs, herons, bald eagles, and more hawks than we could shake a stick at.

The only downside to such a great getaway was how hard it made going back to work today. **sigh**

BikeSnobNYC Unmasked!!

2010-03-29T15:22:00.000-07:00

I never thought this day would come. The mysterious and enigmatic BikeSnobNYC has finally revealed his identity, and in the Wall Street Journal of all places: http://tinyurl.com/yjalr3m

It's safe to say that I'm fairly obsessed with Mr. Snob and his blog. I've been reading it Monday-Friday every week for a couple years now, and it's become part of my morning routine, right after ingesting massive amounts of coffee. Not only that, but I've got his upcoming book on pre-order at Amazon.

I only hope that the lack of anonymity doesn't hamper his ability to crank out some of the most insightful, hilarious, bike-related prose I've ever had the privilege of reading. Everyone's got their favorite Bike Snob quote, and he's written too many gems over the years for me to try and recap them here. You'll just have to give his blog a read here, if you don't already.

Commence Google searches on the name "Eben Weiss" in 3, 2, 1.....

image courtesy of BikeSnobNYC

Seen on the streets

2010-03-27T16:00:00.000-07:00

I came across this bike the other day on the street outside a bar, and I felt like hanging around until the owner came out, so I could ask him/her 2 questions:

Could this bike be any more awesome?
Can I ride it?

Instead, I just kept walking.

SIR Chili Feed 200K

2010-03-23T23:57:00.000-07:00

Wow. I'm way late posting anything about this ride, especially since there's already been another SIR 200K since then...whoops. I've been busy, and blogs don't exactly cry out for attention.

The 11th (and last, apparently) annual SIR Chili Feed 200K is the "kick-off" brevet of the season, and I'd been looking forward to it for quite some time. I'd ridden some permanents, and the spring populaire, but this was my first official length brevet.

The ride started at 7:00 am in Kent, but I wanted to ride there and still have plenty of time to get my shit in order before the ride started, so I rolled out of bed at some ungodly hour, probably 4:00 am or so. I rolled out of Seattle in the darkness, passing maaaaybe 5 cars between my house and Kent. It's amazing how quiet the city can become in the middle of the night/morning. I'd never seen Rainier Ave so quiet in all my time living in South Seattle.

I thought I'd give the new Google bike directions that everyone had been talking about a try, and the 3 route choices they gave me were all pretty legit options. They avoided the major hills that I knew of, and routed me on quieter streets and a couple of trails. In the end, I chose the one that took the new Soos Creek Trail, since I'd never been on it. The trip went without any hitches, other than having to backtrack a bit looking for the entrance to the trail in the complete darkness. As is typical with bike paths, they're usually not marked as well as even the smallest road:

The trail was great, and took me through some really nice, almost secluded, wetland areas. The trail itself was flat, smooth, and paved like a new interstate. Seriously, there were yield signs, stop signs, and some lane markings. The thing was paved better than half the streets in my neighborhood!

The sun was coming as I wound my way closer to the start:

When I reached the start, I realized that I'd made much better time than I anticipated. I had enough time to get some coffee and a bit of muffin, shoot the breeze with a couple of randos, and get my route sheet and brevet card in order. Of course, it was also just enough time to get cold after my nice long warm up. The turnout was huge, with somewhere over 125 riders. I ran into 2 of my neighbors from across the street, and we joked about our block having the highest randonneur per capita ratio in town.

When the ride got underway, we headed due east out of Kent, towards Redondo and Dash Point in Federal Way. I didn't take any pictures from this leg even though there were some pretty spectacular views along the water, because I found myself trying to keep up with the lead group up some pretty sizable climbs. I knew the pace wasn't sustainable for 200K (for me anyways), but it was fun to be part of the fast pack for a while. I arrived at the first control in no time and decided I'd dial it down a bit.

From Dash Point, we followed the water, and rode past the tidal flats and Port of Tacoma:

A long, slow climb up from the water greeted us after that, then through some pretty unremarkable suburban sprawl, until we reach the outskirts of Auburn. It was somewhere along this stretch that one of my knees began to hurt, a remnant of an old running injury. I knew the familiar shooting pains from my running days, but I'd never experienced any knee pain on the bike though, so I was little concerned.
I felt great otherwise though, so I just resolved to take it easy a bit and push on, since there wasn't really anything I could do about it.

Just after Auburn, the route turned onto the now-familiar Green Valley Road. I ran into a few other randos and joined them to make a small 3-man paceline. I'd been pretty much on my own since the first control, so it was nice to have a little bit of windbreak. Between chatting and checking out the livestock on the nearby farms, the 12 or so miles to the next control at the Black Diamond Bakery flew by. I was pretty hungry at that point, so I pounded a whole wheat cinnamon roll and a chocolate milk (my new favorite long ride beverage) and hopped back on the bike. I didn't want to spend too long at the controls like I'd done on some of my permanents, since it becomes hard to get going again. I somehow immediately made a wrong turn after the Bakery, and ended up putting in a few bonus kilometers (up a big hill no less!!!) before getting back on the route.

We wound our way down to Enumclaw, by way of the micro-towns of Ravensdale and Cumberland, in order to hit highway 410, where we made the climb to Greenwater. I found myself hitting some pretty substantial headwinds for a few stretches during this time, but nothing major. I chatted briefly both with riders I passed, and those that passed me. This area of King/Pierce counties is particularly scenic, and it was entertaining enough to just watch the scenery roll by:

The climb to Greenwater was pretty mellow, and wasn't what I had expected, given that it's in the Cascade foothills, and close enough to Mt. Rainer to seem daunting:

The control at Greenwater provided a chance to stretch my ailing knee, and to pick up some more chocolate milk and some salted peanuts. I ate the peanuts like they were going out of style, and washed it down with plenty of water. It's no secret that riders crave salty foods on long rides, and that they help replace electrolytes and whatnot, but DAMN, they tasted GOOD. Biking-related food cravings are weird like that.

On the climb up to Greenwater, I met a really nice guy name Dave on a sweet all-chromed Davidson. We pretty much rode the rest of the brevet together, and the conversation took my mind off my knee. The descent from Greenwater was strange, since the wind came uphill, turning the descent into actual work! Based on the number of riders we'd seen descending from Greenwater while we climbed up, it seemed like we were making pretty good time, so we didn't push anything too hard. We took some really great roads on the way back up through Enumclaw and into Kent, where the promised chili and beer awaited us. Mud Mountain Road in particular was great, since there was absolutely NO traffic, great smooth pavement, and a pretty screaming descent.

As we made our way out of the last control, and back to Kent, I joked that I could smell chili in the air, and I thought about how good some hot food was going to be. In the same way that you can be guaranteed to get a flat by talking about how you never get flats, I must have jinxed myself with my chili talk. I got a flat less than 3 kilometers from the finish. Seriously. Not wanting to take the time to pull the rear wheel off and replace the tube, I just pumped it back up and rode hard towards the finish. That carried me almost all the way to the finish, but I had to pump up one more time in order to make it all the way in. Dave was nice enough to wait for me, even though hot food, beer, and relaxation was mere meters away.

The route:

At the finish, I was too busy enjoying my heaping bowl of veggie chili and cold beers to take any pictures, or even really carry on a good conversation for that matter (sorry guys). After being off the bike for about half an hour, my knee had tightened up so much that it was hard to walk on it. Riding home was out of the question, so I called Grace for backup.

The event was great, and my thanks go out to everyone who helped organize it. I know a lot of work went into allowing slackers like myself to just show up and ride and eat. With the exception of the whole knee issue (which I'll have to figure out for the next brevet), I felt great on the ride. It's certainly left me itching to do a 300 or 400K in the near future.

Best commute home ever

2010-03-15T21:58:00.000-07:00

Welllllll, maybe not EVER, but certainly the best in a long while. Certainly better than one of my other recent commutes. Let me break it down for you:

It was warm. Like no-gloves riding warm. I think that might be the first no-gloves commute I've made all year. I could have gone with short-sleeves had I brought some, which is pretty exciting. Spring is here, and all that.

As I was riding through the park near my house, I noticed a guy sitting on a park bench with his dog. The dog was not on a leash. Of course, the dog chases after me as I ride by, since dogs have some innate bike-chasing gene in their DNA. The guy yells "HEY DYLAN!!!! GET OVER HERE!!! NOW!!!!". I do a double-take, maybe even a triple-take, and before I can figure out what's going on, I realize he's talking to the dog. The DOG, fer cryin' out loud! I'm not sure why seeing a dog with my name is awesome, but it is.

In the same park, not 5 minutes later, a group of young kids (they're maybe 6 or 7 years old) is kicking a soccer ball around. I ride by, and one of them yells "HEY MAN, NICE BEARD.........AND NICE BIKE TOO!". He wasn't even being sarcastic. It's good to see that the young ones can appreciate a good bicycle and a gnarly tuft of facial hair. Young lad, you're both a gentleman and a scholar, and believe me, with an outlook like that, you'll go far in life.

Sorry I don't have pictures to prove any of this. You'll just have to take my word for it.

~D

Oh SNAP!!!

2010-03-14T22:30:00.000-07:00

Normally I get to commute both ways to work 5 days a week. I say "get to" because I love my morning and evening bike commutes. They usually help me feel truly awake and energized in the morning, or wind down from a hectic day at work in the evening. So I was bummed last week when I didn't get to ride for a couple days, for a variety of reasons. When I finally got back on the bike, I felt the stress of my busy workweek start to vanish. I was feeling more relaxed and at ease with each pedal stroke when all of a sudden I was thrown violently forward on one side. I looked down to find my bars completely snapped in half!!! So much for a relaxing ride.

I was able to gingerly coax myself a few more blocks on the sidewalk to the bar I was meeting some friends at for happy hour, but only because I'm too damn stubborn to walk my bike. The trickiest thing was holding the left side of the bars, so that they didn't swing down and get caught in my spokes.

Grace showed up at happy hour with our car (which we cleverly always keep a bike rack in the trunk of), and she drove me and my busted-ass bike home, where I took some shots of the wounds:

These bars happened to be on my beater/commuter singlespeed so it's not like it's any great loss, but it's still a little unnerving the way they just failed like that. I hadn't noticed any cracks or other obvious signs on wear on them. Granted, I do torque on these bars quite a bit since it's a singlespeed, and I live in a hilly place, but STILL.

I'm just glad that this happened while I was on a bike path, going about 10mph, rather than while I was bombing down a huge hill (of which there are many in Seattle). Looks like I'll have to add "check aluminum bars for signs of impending catastrophic failure" to my mental pre-ride checklist.

Three cheers for metal fatigue!

~D

SIR Spring Populaire

2010-03-02T15:59:00.000-08:00

SIR held their Spring Populaire last Sunday, starting and ending down in Renton. In short, the ride was great, the weather was great, and the company was great.

I rode down to the start, which was only about 7 miles from my house, and got the legs all warmed up. Someone was nice enough to supply coffee and donuts at the start, and I got there with plenty of time to have a little coffee and survey the massive amounts of bike porn that lay in front of me. There were plenty of people there (my guess is 75-100), probably due in part to the great weather, and some of the randos there had really impressive rides.

After having done my last couple of 200K permanents solo, it was nice to get out and ride in a group again. Some friendly banter really makes the kilometers fly by, not to mention the fact that you don't have to scrutinize the cue sheet all day when you're in a group (as long as 1 person knows where the hell they're going!). Everyone I met along the ride was incredibly friendly, and happy to be out on such a nice day. I met a couple of folks who I either knew through the blogosphere or vice versa, and ended up doing a large chunk of the ride alongside Dan Boxer, and a guy named Andy (??).

We route took us up climbs on Cougar Mountain (by way of Montreaux Hill) and Tiger Mountain, with some other assorted climbs thrown in for good measure. My legs felt good that day, but I had to hustle up some of the hills to keep pace with the small group I found myself in. It was challenging, but I kept reminding myself that "it's only 100K today, not 200".

Speaking of the hills, I love the way that Kent Peterson described Montreaux Hill a while back on his blog:

"The Montreux climb is a piece of cake..... A piece of stale cake that lodges in your throat and threatens to cut off all oxygen. "

When all was said and done, I finished a few minutes over 4 hours, which felt fast for me, given the terrain. The real moment of satisfaction though, came in the form of a cold, delicious, post-ride beer at the Dog and Pony Alehouse (which had a pretty damn good tap selection). I'm really excited to get back on the road with many of the same riders in a few weeks for the Chili Feed 200K.

A few other good ride reports (including pictures!!) are here and here and here.

Bike Swap Deals

2010-02-27T14:18:00.000-08:00

The annual Cascade Bike Swap happened this morning down at Magnuson Park. There's always a huuuge crowd of people who line up early, waiting to get in and snag all the good deals, but this year seemed even more busy. The line was insane, and once inside the hanger, it was just about shoulder-to-shoulder.

I did end finding some pretty sweet stuff though, and I snagged it for prices that would make even eBay blush:

A pair of nice Shimano aero levers, a pair of Shimano 9sp bar-end shifters, some of the cool old Suntour micro-ratchet bar-end shifters, and a brand-new 105 rear derailleur.

I've got some of these parts designated for a new-to-me bike I'm throwing together (more on that later).

UPDATE: Since I saved so much money by buying cheap bike parts at the swap, I decided it would be a good idea to lose my wallet (with the rest of my cash in it) that night. I guess I came out even.

Hood Canal Loop 200K

2010-02-23T14:30:00.000-08:00

After having a great time on the January leg of my R-12 quest, I signed up for another 200K permanent, this time over on the Olympic Peninsula, on President's Day (note to Presidents: thanks for the day off)

I rolled out of bed around 4:30, hoping to catch the 6:00 ferry to Bainbridge Island, where the route started. I stepped outside to find the thickest, soupiest fog I've ever seen in my 10+ years of living in Seattle. I had to creep down off of the hill I live on at something probably approaching 5 mph (I couldn't see my bike computer, that's how foggy it was). Thankfully, I'd left extra time to get to the ferry terminal from my house, since I ended up having to ride super-slow and take nothing but sidestreets.

In case you ever wondered who takes a weekday early-morning ferry AWAY from Seattle, I've got an answer for you: NOBODY. The ferry was nearly empty, leaving me to contemplate more important things like breakfast and coffee:

The sun was coming up as I started the ride, but fog that it shone through managed to stick around until well into the afternoon. Fortunately, I was still able to see the ridiculously picturesque beauty of the Olympic Peninsula underneath the layers of fog and clouds:

I stopped for some sustenance at a great little bakery/cafe in Chimacum, called On Common Grounds. Everything I tasted there was delicious (and not just because I was hungry). I was also surprised to see that they had a lot of vegan and gluten-free items. I'm not vegan anymore, nor do I have a gluten sensitivity, but it's cool that some place in the (relatively) middle of nowhere has that sort of selection. I'll have to make a point of going back there again.

Sometime after lunch, as I climbed higher towards Walker Pass in the Olympic National Forest, the fog began to clear, and the views got even better. There were a few times during this section of the ride where I actually got goosebumps looking at the scenery. I sometimes feel spoiled living in Seattle, sandwiched between two mountain ranges, and surrounded by countless bodies of water.

I've already told a few of my cycling buddies that we need to head out to the Peninsula again so I can ride some of these roads again. I'm sure that I'll be wanting to do this permanent again too, especially since it can be ridden in the both directions.

On a quick equipment note, I couldn't get over how wonderful the Grand Bois Cerf tires that I raved about in a previous post were. They made this ride so much more comfortable and enjoyable, it's amazing. I floated over the chip seal sections of the ride like I was riding a tire much wider than 28mm, and I kept thinking "this can't be 80psi, maybe I read the gauge wrong." In short, these tires are now essential to my happiness as a cyclist.

I felt really good on this ride, and I made pretty good time to the Bremerton ferry terminal, getting there just before dark. After chatting with a guy who'd just cycled to Bremerton from Olympia on a fixie, wearing a sweaty cotton t-shirt and iPod headphones (yikes!!), I laid down on one of the ferry benches and promptly fell asleep. I can barely get a good night's sleep in my own bed, at night, in total silence, so I'm amazed at how quickly and completely I slept on that ferry. I awoke with a start, noticing that most people had gotten off the ferry, and I had to sprint down to the dock to grab my bike. We all know what happens when a bike looks like it's abandoned on the ferry.

The route:

After riding home from the ferry, my total distance on the day was 231 km (143.5 miles). Not too shabby.

2 down, 10 more to go.

Stolen brake pads, WTF!?!

2010-02-23T12:55:00.000-08:00

Yes, you're seeing that correctly. It's a picture of a bike with no brake pads. A friend of mine posted this on Facebook the other day, after she discovered that someone had stolen her brake pads while the bike was locked up. I just had to mention it here, since it's both mystifying and egregious. I have so many questions swirling around in my head:

Brake pads are among the cheapest parts on a bike. If you're going to steal parts, why go for the cheap ones?
Is this person too afraid to go to one of the many Seattle bike shops and plunk down a few bucks for some pads? Stealing someone else's certainly seems like more work, so it's not a question of laziness.
Are the pads being used right now on someone else's bike? Are they happy with the stopping power? The modulation? The pad compound?

Seeing this picture reminded me of a story that my high school history teacher used to tell about seeing parking lots full of cars without windshield wiper blades in the Soviet Union. There were severe shortages of wiper blades during the years of communist 5-year plans, so people either took their wiper blades with them, or had them stolen. Or so the story goes...

Which begs one final question: Is there a brake pad shortage that I don't know about?

Quick trip to Cougar Mountain, and some equipment tweaks

2010-02-09T15:50:00.000-08:00

Last weekend, I was invited to ride a 200K permanent down near Olympia with a few other randos. Unfortunately, I had some stuff do to that day, and couldn't really afford to be gone all day riding. The day ended up being unseasonably warm and nice, and I didn't let the entire day get away from me without sneaking in a ride.

I rode out over I-90 for a trip up the side of Cougar Mountain, doing the infamous "Zoo Climb" that so many Seattle-area cyclists know/fear. It's actually a pretty brutal climb, considering how short it is. I don't have a GPS or anything, but the internet estimate is that it's around 1400 feet of elevation gain in a little over 2 miles.

The ride out to Cougar Mountain is a pretty nice trip, consisting mostly of bike trails, and wide-shouldered roads. You also get the chance to ride up and over I-90 on the weird "tube" pedestrian overpass:

Once you hit the hill, it's 2 miles of heads-down, heart-pounding, climbing:

Once you reach SE Cougar Mountain Drive, you continue on up to the park that occupies the top of the "mountain", where you can find hiking trails and the like. If you're the curious type, I mapped out the route here. I took a little break near the top, taking the opportunity to take a few vanity shots of the velo:

I've made a few changes to the Mercian since I last posted anything about it. Namely:

Swapped the -17 degree stem for a -6, and lowered the stem on the steerer. Once I get the front end totally dialed in, I'll cut the steerer to length.
Swapped the 53-39 crankset for a compact 50-34. I'm no He-Man, and I have no idea why I thought I could get by on the type of riding I plan on doing with a 53-39 double. Actually, now I remember: I got a screaming deal on the crankset, and I thought I'd make it work. Pretty silly, in retrospect. Thanks to the power of Ebay, I scored a Veloce compact double and made the switch. My legs immediately thanked me, and I'm now much happier with the overall gear range I've got.
Got rid of the kludgy (not to mention uuuuugggly) front derailleur adapter I'd been using to mount my braze-on on front derailleur. I threw on an Ultegra front derailleur that I took off of my 1x8 cyclocross bike, and I'm much happier with it. BTW, what's up with the lack of decent-looking 28.6 diameter derailleur clamps? Is "standard diameter" tubing so far behind the times that no one wants to make compatible parts for it?
Put on a pair of the Grand Bois 28mm Cerf tires that I'd been wanting to try out. All I can say it "wow". These tires deserve much more praise than I can give them here. They're muuuuch smoother and "cushier" than their 28mm width suggests, most likely due to their supple and flexible sidewalls. They also have a noticeable amount of "adhesion" to the road. You can actually feel the difference in rubber compound as compared to some other, more popular tires that I've been running lately. Coupled with the proper tire pressure, these babies are sure to make my long rides that much more comfortable. I'm going to stick with my hard, bulletproof, non-folding bead tires for commuting duties, but these tires get my vote for everything else.

Now that the bike's getting more and more dialed, and the days are getting a little longer, I'm looking forward to my next long ride:

Donate your Colnago today...

2010-02-03T16:41:00.000-08:00

I went down to BikeWorks the other day during their volunteer hours, and ended up helping them move TONS of bikes from their old warehouse to their new warehouse space.

Most of it involved loading bikes into a truck that someone had rented, but I did get to ride a few gnarly old bikes between the two buildings. I even ended up moving an old Trek MTB that was EXACTLY like the one I used to own as a young teenager. It was my first "real" (aka non-Huffy) bike, and served me incredibly well for a number of years, until I gave it to a neighbor to turn into an awesome Xtracycle.

When all was said and done, we ended up with a pile of bikes that looked like this:

Interestingly enough, there was ONE bike that didn't quite fit in with the rest of the donated bikes. See if you can identify why:

Yep, that's right. It's a limited edition Colnago "Ferrari" bike. Full carbon frame, deep-section race wheels, Campy Record gruppo, It's not exactly your typical BikeWorks donated bike. I don't even want to know how much this thing goes for normally. Word on the street is the guy who donated it had 2 of them!! It's even got some sort of owner's manual hanging from the seatpost, so I think it's safe to say this bike didn't see much riding before it ended up at BikeWorks.

I just thought it was funny juxtaposition. I wonder how many mid-80's straight-gauge steel MTBs and old Schwinn 10-speeds this bike is "worth"?

~D

R1 of 12: Leschi-Auburn-Leschi 200K

2010-01-23T20:50:00.000-08:00

Last Monday, I got out for a long-awaited 200K ride. I'd signed up with the Seattle International Randonneurs (SIR) a while back, but the holidays and getting sick had thwarted my attempts to arrange my first official ride as a SIR member.

I've made a goal for myself for 2010 to earn the R-12 award. What is an R-12 you ask? RUSA (the governing body for randonneuring in the US) defines it thusly:

The R-12 Award is earned by riding a 200km (or longer) randonneuring event in each of 12 consecutive months. The counting sequence can commence during any month of the year but must continue uninterrupted for another 11 months.

Organized randonneuring events are most commonly called "brevets". Again, the RUSA definition:

This is a French word for which we have no direct translation for its cycling usage. In general, it means a "patent", "certificate", or "diploma". For the randonneur, the randonnée they have entered is often called a "brevet". This is typically a challenging 200, 300, 400, 600, 1000 or 1200 kilometer ride, each with a specific time limit. The randonneur carries a brevet card, which is signed and stamped at each checkpoint along the way to prove they have covered the distance successfully. (Losing the card, or missing a required checkpoint is a very bad thing to do!) Also, pronounce the word correctly: "brevet" rhymes with "say" or "Chevrolet", not "get" or "let".

A permanent is like a brevet but you can ride it any time, either by yourself or with others, choosing from a list of pre-approved routes. Since this was my first official permanent attempt I decided to go it alone, mostly to ensure that I didn't drag someone else along while I fumbled my way through the particulars of riding such an event. That, and I'm really out of shape, so I thought I'd be pretty slow.

My brevet card for the ride:

The weather in Seattle in January is usually pretty predictable, in that it's almost guaranteed to be shitty and rainy. I'd checked the weather report the night before and it called for rain pretty much all day. I brought my rain gear along on the ride, prepared to spend a day riding through the rain, only to find that the weather was gorgeous all day long. So gorgeous in fact, that later in the afternoon I saw people in shorts and t-shirts, and people driving convertibles with the tops down. Not a drop of precipitation to be found anywhere.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. The day started around 5:30 am, when I got up after having had a horrible night's sleep. How's that for some extra randonneur training? This permanent started pretty close to my house, so I rolled down to the lake, and warmed up on the short jaunt up to Leschi. It was still dark when I left the first control, the Starbucks on Lake Washginton Blvd, but the skies were beginning to lighten, and I didn't have to use my headlight for too long before the sun poked up.

The sun was coming up in earnest by the time I reached the Cedar River trail. The trail takes you all the way from Renton proper into S.E. King County, near Maple Valley, at times following the Cedar River for which it's named.

One of my favorite sections of the ride was this one-lane bridge, that I came upon almost out of nowhere. The stoplights at each end control which direction of traffic gets to use the bridge at any given time.

Even though there was literally no traffic the entire time I was on or near this bridge, there were generous sidewalks on either side. Nice.

The bridge takes you over the Green River Gorge, which was way more beautiful than my cheap digital camera and my poor photographic skills can capture. This area, nestled well outside Seattle, in the middle of farmland, was one of the most picturesque parts of King County that I've seen yet, and that's saying a lot, considering the scenery that the county has to offer.

I saw great views of Mount Rainier and the Cascade foothills, as I wound my way through Auburn, Black Diamond, Cumberland, Issaquah, Samammish, and all the other towns and cites on my way through the 204K route. The route itself was pretty flat, but there were a few climbs to keep things honest. I did pretty well keeping up on food and hydration throughout the day, remembering to eat before I got hungry and drink before I got thirsty. I hadn't been on a ride this long in quite some time, but it actually felt pretty good to be in the saddle all day. I'm sure the weather and topography had a lot to do with that.

The last control was at the same Starbucks I'd started from. By the time I got there, the sky looked a lot like it had when I left.

The route:

Total distance on the day: 219.4 km (136.3 miles)

Average speed: 25.0 kph (15.5 mph)

Total time spent riding: 8:29:27

My official time for the entire permanent was 10 hours, and 6 minutes, which I think is just about average for SIR riders on this particular route. Not that these things are races or anything, it's just good to know that I'm somewhere in the right neighborhood in terms of my time. I definitely could have spent less time at the controls, but I'm sure I'll get my routine smoothed out as I continue to do more brevets and permanents.

So, I'm now 1/12th of the way to accomplishing my R-12 goal. I'm really looking forward to my next permanent, and the beginning of the brevet season in late February/early March.

Back from the dead

2010-01-21T12:59:00.000-08:00

Last night I finished overhauling my singlespeed, which had been left for dead after a season of commuting, and a couple of particularly muddy cyclocross races. I installed a beat-up old Blackburn rear rack that G found laying out in the middle of the street, and a little smaller chainring, to make hauling all my crap up the Seattle hills a bit easier. I had a set of 32c tires I wanted to throw on it, but one of them has a hole in the sidewall, and I have to decide what I want to do with it. Anyone know if this sort of thing actually works?

It feels really good to get back on the singlespeed. I'd almost forgotten how fun it is to ride this way.
Since the weather was unseasonably nice today, I took it up to Little Saigon for a lunchtime bahn mi run. Awesome.

It's good to have this bike back in working order.
~D

Bike thieves suck, but bike pile thieves suck even more

2010-01-19T12:47:00.000-08:00

I was sad to see an email go out on one of my neighborhood's email lists that contain this bit of information from Bike Works:

Dear Friends, We are sad to report that over the last few weeks donated bikes have been stolen from the yard behind Bike Works. The stolen bicycles were destined to be put back into the community in May at this year’s Kids’ Bike Swap. We lost a large pile of bikes – an estimated $1,500 value – that have been worked on since September during our volunteer repair nights and youth Earn-a-Bike classes and drop-in hours. With the KBS now just 4 months away, this is a big setback for us. We are reaching out to our community to help! Most of the bikes that were stolen were “adult” sized bikes for older youth. (These bikes are harder for us to collect, take longer to fix, and are worth more money.) In the next three months, we hope to build our pile of bikes back up to what it was! Here is what we need:
Good condition adult bikes - smaller mountain bikes (26” wheels) and road bikes (700 cm. wheels) especially
Good condition 24” wheeled bikes. To donate a bike, email Donald at recycling@bikeworks.org or call our shop during business hours at 206.725.9408 x3
Volunteers who can repair bikes – specifically volunteers with shop level mechanic expertise. If you are interested in repairing bikes, contact Davey at volunteers@bikeworks.org or 206.725.9408 x2
Any other donation (monetary or material) that can help us offset our loss. To donate to Bike Works, click here

Anytime someone's bike (or LARGE PILE OF BIKES as is the case here) it sucks. However, this incident sucks even more since Bike Works is a great non-profit organization that does a lot to help more people get on bikes affordably. They do repair classes, programs with underserved communities and youth, sell affordable refurbished bikes, and run a small repair shop. Bike nerds probably also know that it's shop is the current home of Seattle biking legend Kent Peterson.

I've got an decent older, lugged road frame/fork that's too small for me collecting dust in my basement that I'm going to have to drop off down there. If you're in/near the Seattle area and you've got some suitable bike stuff sitting in your basement or garage (and really, if you're reading this blog, chances are you fit both those criteria), you might consider doing the same.

On a related note, some neighbors of mine had two bikes stolen this weekend out of their front yard. Ugh. Someone, somewhere is sitting on a huge pile of pilfered bikes.

Keep your bikes close at hand,
~D

Overhaulin'

2010-01-09T21:02:00.000-08:00

In my last post, I whined about being sick, and talked a little bit about some cool bike stuff I discovered in Spokane. Meanwhile, back here in Seattle, I've had to figure out a way to get my bike fix without being able to really take any substantial rides. So, I took advantage of a few days off of work, and the time spent indoors to overhaul one of my bikes, and give the others a little TLC.

First up: the Surly. I finished my decal removal, threw a fresh coat of shellac on the bar tape, a fresh coat of Proofide on my saddle, cleaned up the drivetrain, and re-lubed everything.

Next up: my singlespeed 'cross bike. Although it normally serves as my main commuter, it still hadn't recovered from the SSCXWC madness in Portland. I decided it was time to tear it down completely, and give it the overhaul it deserved. Here's a a crappy picture of it in mid-teardown, complete with my disembodied foot:

I've ridden this bike frequently, and hard, through all sorts of crappy Seattle weather and muck for over 18 months, and it showed. The hub bearings were crunchier than a bowl of Grape Nuts, and even though I'd given it a cleaning after that last race, there was still mud crammed into every conceivable nook and cranny:

under the saddle
in the steer tube
in the BB shell
inside the tires
INSIDE the brake levers!!

After tearing it completely apart, I peered into the frame tubes and was happy to see no trace of rust. I'd treated the frame with frame saver when I built it up initially, and I was glad to see that it had lived up to it's name. After re-applying some more, I scrubbed out the steer tube using the awesome brush I spyed at the restaurant supply store:

I'm not sure what restaurants use these things for, but they're the perfect size for scrubbing out frame tubes (unless you have some grotesquely over-sized frame tubes).

I also re-built the guts of my Crank Brothers Candy pedals. I have these on all of my bikes, and besides being tough, dependable, and cheap, they're also incredibly simple and only contain a few parts. Crank Brothers, in an amazing nod to self-serviceability, even has a video on their website showing how to rebuild them.

After I cleaned everything up, installed new hub bearings, re-assembled and re-lubed everything, I added another, trimmed-down version of my previous coroplast mudflap. I've been contemplating adding some wider tires to this bike, maybe a pair of 32s that I have laying around, and installing the beat-up old Blackburn rear rack that I found out in the street. I'm quickly coming around to the Grant-Petersen-Jan-Heine-et-al-wider-tires-really-are-better-for-most-applications camp, and I think this bike could really benefit from them. I'm also going to put a little smaller chainring on this time around, since the ratio I'm running now is a bit much when I'm huffing it up some of the hills around here, and carrying a decent amount of junk with me at the same time.

I also give G's bikes a little tune-up, and swapped cassettes on the Mercian.

Now that I've whipped these bikes into shape, and tuned them up, the only thing left to do is ride them. I've got a couple of longer rides coming up that I'm eager to get to, and that hopefully end up being blog-worthy.

Until then,
~D

Pedals 2 People

2010-01-09T19:56:00.000-08:00

You might have noticed that I haven't posted in a bit. I have a good excuse lined up for that: The holidays were upon us, and then I rang in the new year by getting sick. Sick enough that I haven't been on the bike much lately. Accordingly, my next few posts will probably have nothing to do with actual rides, since I haven't taken any lately beyond commuting.

End of disclaimer. Now, on to the real topic of this post:

I spent some of the the holidays back in the motherland, otherwise known as Spokane. While I was there, I got to meet John of Cycling Spokane fame, and the band of self-described "bike geeks" that he hangs with. They were a great group of folks, and I got to enjoy some delicious beers and nerd out a bit over bike stuff with some of them.

I came into contact with John (besides being a long-time reader of his blog), because I've been helping out a little bit with some web stuff for Pedals 2 People, a bicycle advocacy non-profit that he's involved with. They offer repair classes, a DIY community bike shop/work space, and they sell used/refurbished parts and bikes, in addition to running other cool programs. At any rate, it's great to see that Spokane has a healthy contingent of people who are interested in encouraging the city and its citizens to get behind cycling.

If you're ever in Spokane, you should drop by their brand new dedicated space, at 1802 E. Sprague. As John says, "Come down and rent a stand, hang out, buy some used stuff, say hi."

Hope everyone reading this is riding more than I have been,

~D

A quick trip to Three Tree Point, plus SNOW!?!

2009-12-17T22:37:00.000-08:00

Last weekend, I took a ride out to Three Tree Point, down in Burien. If you're not sure where that is.....it's here. There are some great hills along the way down there from my 'hood, and by great, I mean steep and/or long. I wasn't planning on being out for too long, so I figured I'd make the hours count, and work on my climbing.

It was another cold ride, but the sun peeked out occasionally:

If you look closely, you can see a couple of snowflakes that fell during the ride. The only way I could get them to show up was to take a picture against the black of my pants.

Obligatory vanity bike shot:

This spot is actually on the tip of Three Tree Point, and it makes a great place to stop and take a break. It's on the Sound, literally 10 feet from the water, and it's nestled at the foot of a big hill that leads back up into Burien.

I'm always looking for variety in my rides, and when I got bored with the same old routes, I like to head down south to see something different. The area near Three Tree Point is a great place to ride, and scenic to boot. As long as you avoid Ambaum Boulevard, which is a busy main road, the roads aren't too heavily trafficked to make things feel dangerous.

~D

RADBALL!!!!!!!!!!!

2009-12-17T12:46:00.000-08:00

A friend just sent me this video along with the message:

"We should get in on this before the hipsters....RAD BALL!"

I think he saw it a while back on Bike Forums. Anyway, it was waaaaay too good to not pass along (make sure you have the audio on, in order to get the full effect):

Of course, the Germans dominate this sport, as explained in the following video, which is much more informative, yet lacks the Iron Maiden soundtrack:

I say forget bike polo, Seattle needs a Radball team, ASAP.

~D

Removing Surly decals

2009-12-14T13:52:00.000-08:00

A lot of people complain about the graphics used on most Surly bikes. You know the ones; the scribbly logo that's supposed to look like it was scrawled on:

Well, I've never really had a problem with the graphics or the logos on my Surly Long Haul Trucker, until I started to notice that they were peeling and chipping away on both the top tube and the down tube:

For some reason, I don't have any aesthetic problems with my homemade election sign mudflap, or my chainstay slapguard made out of old innertubes, or the fact that I keep an old toe strap wrapped around my headtube (you know, just in case I ever need one), but having peeling decals on my bike was more than I could bear. I can't explain it, especially since it's not like my Surly is any sort of show bike. It's the bike I use for carrying large amounts of shit, riding in the rain and the muck, camping, touring, and the like. Regardless, I decided that what was left of the decals had to go.

Since the Surly decals aren't underneath any sort of clear coat, I figured they'd be pretty easy to scrape off with help from a little heat. I grabbed the hairdryer, a few different credit cards, and some WD-40 and got down to work. I found that heating a small area for about 30 seconds or so, then moving in and scraping with the credit card worked better than trying to heat and scrape an area at the same time. Once the decals were scraped off, a quick wipedown with WD-40 took care of all the sticky glue residue that was left behind. Some people use things like acetone or nail polish remover for removing adhesive, but I find that WD-40 works better, and there's no possibility of it messing up the underlying paint or clear coat.

20 minutes or so later, I was rewarded with a sparkly-clean top tube and downtube:

Aaaaahhhhh, that's much better.

~D

Cyclocross 2009: Parting shots from Monroe

2009-12-08T16:24:00.000-08:00

As much as I hate to admit it, cyclocross really is done here in Seattle for 2009. True, I could travel somewhere else and maybe fit in one more race, but honestly, the season is over. I'm sad to see it go, but I'll be back for sure in 2010.

The Seattle Cyclocross series held the final race of the Seattle season back on November 29th, at the Evergreen State Fairgounds up in Monroe. It was a great race, one of the best I've been to this year, both in terms of the course layout, and my actual performance. My only gripe is that it was way out in the boonies of Snohomish County, 36.2 miles from my house, according to Google Maps. Not a big deal for some people, but I get cranky when I have to drive too much.

The course had a little bit of everything: slick wet grass, gravel, asphalt, sand, steep technical hills, a true run-up, a horse barn to ride through, and mud of all sorts (sticky mud, wet soupy mud, sandy mud, slippery mud, etc. etc. etc.) It made for a really entertaining race, both as a spectator, and a racer. There were plenty of spills, especially on the steep, technical downhill sections:

images courtesy of SpotShot events

I had a great day performance-wise, and I nailed an 8th place finish in my race, out of 35 racers. I give all the credit to the whole-wheat waffles that I made that morning for breakfast, which was truly a breakfast of champions.

Without further ado, here are some magnificent images from my race, courtesy of the amazing Mr. Mabale:

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: dude is amazing with a camera. He tried to tell me that he didn't have the right type of film for the conditions, camera jargon this, camera jargon that, but I still say that it's a million times better than anything I could capture. If he wasn't a 'cross racer himself I'd ask him if he could be my personal photographer. Now that I've cracked the top 10 in the lowest men's category of a couple local bike races, I feel justified in needing my own photographer.

I also managed to take home an armload of swag, courtesy of the SCX sponsors: a new set of Ritchey SpeedMax tires, a cool new Park multi-tool that includes a chain tool, a set of gloves, and some fancy-pants FSA derailleur pulleys. All that, just for showing up and sticking around until the awards ceremony. It wasn't too hard of a decision to make, considering they were giving away free New Belgium beer in the beer garden.

All in all, it was a great day at the races, and a good end to the 2009 Seattle-area 'cross season.

More photos of the race (including ones that don't have me in them!!) here and here.

~D

Cold Weather Riding

2009-12-07T11:16:00.000-08:00

Went for a quick spin with the lady yesterday despite the fact that it was brutally cold. The weather report said it was 33 degrees, 20 with the wind chill. After about an hour's worth of riding, as the feeling in my feet began to disappear, I would have believed you if you said it was even colder than that.

I took the Mercian, and G took her still relatively-newish Rivendell Hillborne. In preparation for my plan to start riding longer rides with the Seattle Randonneurs in January, I'm still dialing in my cold-weather riding gear. I still have a ways to go with the feet, as they tend to get numb pretty quickly in this sort of weather. I've got a new set of heavier wool socks than I usually wear to try out, since my two layers of socks didn't work on this ride. It's been interesting to discover the shortcomings of clothes that perform perfectly well on both my daily commute and shorter rides.

The obligatory I-90 tunnel entrance shot:

Hope you're staying warm wherever you're riding.

~D

Today is a good day because....

2009-12-04T13:38:00.000-08:00

On my way into work this morning, I came within inches of hitting a dead raccoon that had come to its final resting place along the shoulder of Lake Washington Blvd. I'll spare you the graphic imagery, but suffice it to say, this raccoon was very big and very dead. Big like a small dog. So big in fact, I'm not sure how it didn't see it until it was 6 inches in front of my front tire.

No matter what happens the rest of the day, I can say "Well, at least I didn't hit that big dead raccoon this morning." That would have ruined my day for sure.

The end of cyclocross 2009: Let's get ready to rando....

2009-11-23T23:39:00.000-08:00

The cyclocross season is winding down here in Seattle. Last week, the good folks at MFG Cyclocross had an end-of-season party over at the Pyramid Brewery to celebrate their inaugural season. It was well attended, and there were plenty of prizes to be had, both for the series winners and 2nd placers, and as raffle prizes. And, is is usually the case when I'm entered in a raffle, I somehow came away empty-handed. I'm not quite sure how the math works out, but I'm certain that I've never EVER won a raffle.

But, it's not over yet. Heck, I still haven't cleaned all the mud off my single-speed left from the SSCXWC race. There are two races left that I'm planning on participating in: the last Seattle Cyclocross series race, up in Monroe, and a mid-January race up in Bellingham, part of the Cascade Cross series, that I'm sure will be mind-numbingly cold. From the Cascade Cross site:

"This may be the first cyclocross race in the NW in January, and we believe it is HIGH time we got in line with our European counterparts. Quitting in December? What are we, elves?"

I couldn't agree more. It's almost sad to see only 2 last races on my calendar, since the 10 or so races that I've done this year have been a complete and total blast. I've even done better than I thought I would: always finishing in the top half of the field, and even snagging a couple of top-10 finishes.

That said, the impending end of the season has had me thinking about what type of riding I'm going to focus on for next year. I've been really intrigued by randonneuring for a while now, and I think 2010 is going to be the year I jump in and try it out for real. I've been lurking on the Seattle Randonneurs' email list for some time now, and I've done enough centuries and supported rides now, that going rando seems like the next logical step.

In that spirit, and to test out some winter gear, I packed up the Mercian on Sunday, and headed out to do part of the Leschi-Auburn-Leschi 200K route:

I chopped off the part of the route that goes up over Lake Sammamish and Lake Washington, opting instead to come back to Seattle via Eastgate and the I-90 trail. I had some crap to do later that day, and I've done the Lake Sammamish/Lake Washington rides plenty of times. This ride was more about exploring new roads, and getting my "long ride" legs back.

It was a wet, rainy affair from the get-go, but I stayed plenty warm thanks to a smart selection of clothing and jackets. The only exception was my feet. I've struggled to find a decent solution for keeping my feet warm on long winter rides, and this day was no exception. As if on queue however, an email discussion sprang up on the SIR email list just today about this very topic, so maybe someone has a bright idea that I haven't tried yet.

I should probably shut up and end this post with some pictures from the ride. While the PNW gets some nasty weather, it gives up some great scenery at the same time. I'm bummed that a few of the shots I took while riding didn't turn out, especially the ones of the fog and mist rolling off of Cougar and Tiger mountains, as I rode right between them into Issaquah. I'm going to have to master that skill for sure if I want to be able to capture any of the amazing scenery I'm sure to see on my upcoming brevets.

New Wheels!!

2009-11-19T22:04:00.000-08:00

So, a little while back, I did something that I'd been meaning to do for a while: I built some wheels. From scratch. The process of building wheels had always seemed a little bit like "magic" to me, but that only made me want to give it a shot even more.

I signed up for the fall wheelbuilding class at Wright Brothers Cycle Works, and had a great time getting to learn the mysterious art from Charles, the proprietor. He's quite a character, and has a lot of strong opinions and stories to tell, which for some reason seems par for the course among Seattle shop owners. Wright Brothers itself is also quite a shop, messy and chaotic, but very "homey". Plus, it's the only shop of any sort that I can think of that's heated by woodstove:

The class itself was great, and I'd heartily recommend it to anyone looking to try their hand at wheelbuilding under the guidance of someone who's built thousands of them. Charles does a great job of making sure that everyone is following what's going on, and not just speaking to the bike-literate members of the class. Over the course of the 4 evening sessions, I got my front wheel completely laced, tensioned, stress-relieved and trued, and got most of the same done on my rear wheel. I finished up the truing and dishing of the rear wheel at The Bikery, using their tools and assistance. (Sidenote: if you've never been to The Bikery, you should check it out. It's an all-volunteer run, non-profit shop/retail/educational space, and they provide a great service to the Seattle bike community.)

The specs on my new wheelset (shown below with some of my 'cross tires on, ready for racing):

Mavic OpenPros, 32-hole (I've had really good luck with OpenPros on my other bikes)
Shimano 105 hubs (virtually identical to Ultegra, but waaaaay cheaper)
DT Swiss Competition 2.0-1.8 double-butted spokes, laced 3 cross
DT brass nipples

I laced them up 3 cross, using the "double lacing" pattern that Charles is a big fan of. (He actually has an article on the technique here.) Basically, when lacing the spokes, instead of crossing each spoke using the traditional over-over-under pattern, double lacing uses an over-under-over pattern. This creates 2 points where overlapping spokes "connect" or touch, instead of one. Charles' position is that this creates a stronger wheel than conventional single lacing. I guess time will tell on this set.

So far, I've raced 3 or 4 cyclocross races on these wheels, plus some short rides in between, both on road, and some singletrack. They're still true as when I took them off the truing stand, and I'm actually incredibly, incredibly happy with them. It's amazing how much more satisifying it is to ride around on some equipment that you know you built yourself.

It's great to know that I can true these, or any other wheels up whenever I need to, and I can picture myself getting excited to build up some more wheelsets when the need presents itself.

Yet another mudflap

2009-11-13T15:00:00.000-08:00

I've gone through several different mudflaps over the years, and I've always either had them fall off, or be somehow unsatisfactory. Despite my previous claim to the contrary, I now know that velcro is not enough to hold on a decent-sized mudflap.

Now that election season is over (hooray for Mike McGinn and Referendum 71!), it's the perfect time to get lots of free coroplast plastic, in the form of the election yard signs that are posted at almost every intersection and public gathering place. Kent Peterson is known around these parts for making all sorts of bike stuff out of this amazingly abundant and versatile material, and you can do some pretty elaborate stuff with it if you're inclined, but I just wanted to make a simple, yet sturdy mudflap. It's essential if you want to ride through a Seattle winter.

I cut out a shape that was much bigger than what I needed, then trimmed it up until I felt like it was a good size. I wanted really good coverage, almost down to the ground, so that no one has to suffer if they're riding behind me this winter. I drilled a few small holes in my SKS fenders, threw a couple of nuts, bolts, and washers that I had laying around through the fender and the mudflap, and topped it off with a little Loctite to keep things from vibrating loose. Total time: less than an hour.

So far, so good. Hopefully, this is the mudflap to end all other inferior mudflaps.

~D

Cyclocross 2009: SSCXWC!!!

2009-11-12T22:39:00.000-08:00

photo courtesy of Oregon Velo

Oh. my. god. How can I even begin to capture and describe the madness that was SSCXWC 2009? Frankly, I can't, and I'm not sure anyone can. So when gazing upon the few pictures I've managed to dig up and the measly accompanying text, keep in mind that this is an event that defies all blog entries. It eats blog entries and race recaps for breakfast and then shits them out in a stream of mud, blood, beer, and more mud. That said, you can read a better write-up than my own over at Cyclocross Magazine.

A few of my favorite parts of the race:

The 250-rider strong Le Mans start, with 2 opposing lines of racers, all running towards the middle to grab their trusty steeds
Random jumps placed in random spots along the course
Wet mud
Hearing racers get chastised for not having costumes on
Beer hand-ups
Popcorn hand-ups, bacon hand-ups, baguette hand-ups, etc. etc. etc.
Getting pelted with hotdogs and marshmallows while riding through the Thunderdome
Thick, sticky mud
A school bus filled with strippers, parked on the course, serving as a course shortcut, for those lucky enough to have brought some dollar bills along on the ride.
Black Sabbath cover band with a lead singer that sounded exactly like Ozzy.
Slippery mud
Mud
More mud

There was a bit of an actual competion going on underneath all the costumes and general shenanigans though, as the hosting of the next SSCXWC was up for grabs, based partially on the top finisher's cities. The other considerations happened to be a mud wrestling match (naturally) that took place after the race, and a "debate" that has taken place the night before at the kick-off party. Not only did Seattle have a strong showing all weekend, but we eventually beat San Francisco to win next year's hosting honors!

While I'm super thrilled that I'll be able to do this again next year in my own backyard, I'm sure that I wasn't the only Seattleite who thought about the recent 'cross race that got cancelled at the last minute, due to complaints by 2 (2!!) neighbors. I've got no idea where a good venue would be, that would be far enough away from all the NIMBYs, but that wouldn't be way the hell out of town somewhere. Magnuson Park? Discovery Park? Some gnarly industrial area down by the Duwamish? Hopefully someone's got some good ideas up their sleeves. Makes me think of this recent comic from the always excellent Married To The Sea:

Image courtesy of Married To The Sea

From the moment we arrived at Portland International Raceway, where the event was being held, I could tell that this was going to be unlike any other race I'd been to so far. The SSCXWC race was being held after the end of a normal days worth of Cross Crusade racing, so there probably a lot more people there than there would have been otherwise. It was great to see so many people out racing and spectating, especially since it had been raining all day and the course generally looked like this:

and like this:

image courtesy of Bike Portland

After the elite categories finshed up, the costumes began to come out. I recycled my lumberjack costume from Halloween, after my buddy Joe made a few last minute "alterations" to my shorts in the parking lot with a knife. I know that technically, the theme was Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome", but in reality, it was more like "gratuitous and unflattering male nudity". Despite the fact that there was literally a bus-load of strippers present, the flesh exposure was clearly dominated by the men.

After the crazy start, when everyone had finished tripping over other people's bikes, and had finally found their own, the pack crammed down into one narrow section of the course, and trudged up the first run-up, packed in like sardines. The mud was incredibly slippery, and I fell right away, falling forward as my feet slipped out from under me. Luckily, my face was there to stop the fall, connecting with the back of someone's bike. 30 seconds into the race, and I'm bleeding from the face. So far, so good. It didn't hurt much (maybe it was the cold, or the adrenaline, or a little bit of both), and the next few laps, I took in the "sights", while still trying to keep my eyes on the road enough to keep it rubber side down. The thunderdome in particular, offered plenty in the way of distractions, as you can see here:

Find more videos like this on Cyclocross Magazine

Things were going swimmingly, until I hit a "puddle" that turned out to be a deep pothole with sharp edges. Instant pinch flat. Turns out that when you're riding through 4 inches of mud, a flat rear tire doesn't hinder you as much as you'd think. Amazing. I finished the race out like that, and after winding down with a few post-race beers by the fire that someone had built, I came to the conclusion that it had been one of the funnest times I've ever had on a bike.

Thunderdome at night:

Our post-race gnar faces:

Many people take better photos than I do, and you can see them here, and here, and even more here.

If any of this seems even remotely interesting to you, then start planning your costume for next year. I know I'll be there.

~D

SSCXWC '09: The last race before the single speed cyclocross apocalypse

2009-11-02T12:56:00.000-08:00

I've gone and done it. I am officially registered for the SSCXWC (Single Speed Cyclocross "World Championships") in Portland next weekend.

I put the "World Championship" part in ironic air quotes because it's not like this race is sanctioned by any sort of cycling association that would have the authority to make it a real championship. Nope, it's the World Championship because they say it is. And that's really all that matters isn't it? Shit, that's the only reason a middling Cat4 bike jerk like myself would even be allowed anywhere near an event like this.

My buddy Joe from Traitor Cycles will be along as well, and sporting one of Traitor's rad new SSCX bikes, and hopefully still sporting his sweet new 'stache (which I think looks absolutely timeless and classy):

I will go to Portland. I will eat some of the West Coast's best pizza. I will drink delicious beer. I will race. I will, in all likelihood, finish near last, just ahead of all the people who are still drunk from the night before, and just behind all the people with actual talent. But you know, it's not really going to be about racing per se, but more about just being a part of an event that is obviously so over-the-top in its awesomeness, that its motto is:"The last race before the single speed cyclocross apocalypse".

In any case, I'll be sure to write up something about the race when I get back. It will pale in comparison to BikeSnobNYC's account of the SSWC in Durango (which is a similar event, but with riders on the much-inferior "mountain bike"), but hopefully it'll be something entertaining enough to keep your attention for a few minutes.

If you've managed to read this far, I'll leave you with one of my favorite 'cross videos to date, from last year's SSCXWC:

Singlespeed Cyclocross World Championships 2008 from bce on Vimeo.

Old-timey is the right-timey

2009-10-28T17:39:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine sent me this photo, taken during her recent trip to Denver:

I love the juxtaposition of a dude on an old-timey penny farthing next to some new condo-looking building. And the absolute best part (aside from the helmet monocle mirror, you know...... for when he rides that thing in traffic) is the sweet 'stache:

I'm a huge fan of awesome facial hair, but even at my best, and most old-timey, I can't compete with that:

Cyclocross 2009: MFG Cross Clash

2009-10-26T22:13:00.000-07:00

First off, let me apologize for the lack of posts lately. I guess I've been busy riding?

Second, I reached my goal for 'cross season this year: a top 10 finish!

Let me rewind: the 4th race in the MFG series was back on October 10th, down at the venerable 'cross venue known as Fort Steilacoom Park. It was designed to be part 1 of a 2 part battle between Washington and Oregon (read: Seattle and Portland) for the "Grail de la Grunge". A noble battle indeed, and one that needed to be fought.

The grail itself is a motley collection of handlebars, a beer keg, some miscellaneous cogs, and most notably, a Space Needle looking thing on top: http://twitpic.com/moo5h

The course was quite a bit different than it was when I was down in September for the Rad Racing GP. In particular, the course bypassed the massive "Knapp-Time" run-up in favor of some longer, slow climbs up the hill. I wanted to make sure I got a feel for the course, so when the Cat 4 Masters race was over, I headed out for a quick practice lap. I got back into the wooded section of the course, and decided that I should check out the climbs, and see just what I was in for during the race. After coming back down off the hill, and rounding the last corner before the big asphalt straightaway to the start/finish line, I noticed a bunch of racers, all lined up at what looked to be the.......starting line....what the??........OH MY GOD THE RACE IS ABOUT TO START!!!!!!!

I flew into the back of the staging group, screeching to a halt with no more than 10 seconds to the start of the race. Terry, the race director, looked back and said "So, you're all warmed up right?" Jesus, I felt like an idiot. I had completely lost track of time.

Without a moment to catch my breath, the race was underway. I tried to make my way up to a better spot in the pack right away, but in the first big corner, I got pushed waaaay to the outside, as everyone crammed in. I realized that I had actually been pushed into the entrance to the pits, and somehow, without hesitation, pulled the tape up and over my head and ducked back onto the course, all without slowing down. Someone yelled "NIIIICE", as I congratulated myself mentally for getting out of that situation. So far, I'd almost missed the start, and almost gone the wrong way. All in the first minute of the race.

The rest of the race actually ended up going really well, and I felt strong on the bike. I made some good, clean passes, and managed to stay ahead of a few guys who were nipping at my heels for most fo the 40 minutes. I did manage to play the pass-get-passed game several times with one racer however, a la MTB Mike. He had a long ponytail, so he kind of "stuck out" amongst all the Lycra-clad dudeness that was the rest of the field. He ended up getting the better of me on the last lap, and I was powerless to catch him.

I was pleasantly shocked to hear the announcers call my name as I came across the line, along with the phrase "rounding out the top 10". I had placed in the top 10 (a small goal that I had set for myself at the beginning of the season)

I chatted with Mr. Ponytail for a while after the race, (He actually has a name, and it's Michael Dishman). Dude camped out in the park the night before the race behind some trees, as he was in the middle of a tour through the PNW.....on his 'cross bike. If that wasn't enough, he said he'd ridden around the Olympics (the mountain range, not the international sports competition) since the previous weekend's race! Fucking metal, I tell you. That also explains the long hair. MFG wrote a little blurb about him on their site to a similar effect. Wherever you are now Mr. Dishman, remember that the bearded guy you passed on the barriers thinks you're incredibly awesome.

I didn't have my camera with me, but lots of other people took photos (including some of the group of guys/ladies that dressed up as all the Wizard of Oz characters, including the flying monkey!!)

photo courtesy of Dave Roth

Beer hand-up!!

photo courtesy of Dave Roth

MFG's pictures

Steven Bisig's photos

Me looking weird

Me getting passed by the aforementioned metal dude

My buddy Chris, bringing back the "princess pillow" from Kick-Off Cross

and finally, this guy, who proved to be one of the best, loudest 'cross spectators I've seen:

MFG did a great job putting on the race, and I had both a great time, and my best finish to date. Not bad for a day on the bike.

~D

How about that weather we're having?

2009-10-14T23:04:00.000-07:00

Despite my earlier assertion that summer has ended, I think it really sunk in this week that we Seattleites are teetering on the brink of the never-ending streak of grayness and constant rain known as fall/winter/early spring.

Riding to work this morning in the pouring rain, I thought "oooohhhh yyyeeeaaaahhhhh, I remember this...". It's strange to think that I'll be spending many, many more mornings, afternoons, and evenings riding in the rain in the coming months, trying to keep my socks dry and my glasses de-fogged.

I've begun the process of scrounging up my mudflaps, shoe covers, long-sleeved jerseys and all the other miscellaneous bike stuff that I was able to stash away for the last few months. Luckily I don't get cold easily, I have good gear (including what I consider to be one of the best battery-powered light systems out there), and a desire to ride my bike that usually trumps the shitty weather.

To give you an idea of what I'm talking about, check out the forecast I got on my phone today:

Should make for a nice, sloppy 'cross course come this weekend.

~D

Cyclocross 2009: Starbucks GP

2009-10-11T11:22:00.000-07:00

My busy cyclocross weekend continued on Sunday with the Starbucks GP out at Lake Sammamish State Park in Issaquah.

My buddy Mike was on hand to take pictures after his race was over. A small sampling of his handiwork:

All photos courtesy of Michael Mabale

Dude takes amazing photos. He makes me look way cooler than I could ever hope to be. I ended up writing a ton about the last race, so I feel like I should keep this write-up brief. Ready? Here goes:

I raced. I felt good. The course was fast, and completely 100% flat. It was the complete opposite of the Crosstoberfest course I'd raced on the day before: very "fitness oriented", and less techinical. In lieu of any hills or run-ups, there was a long stretch of beachfront sand to run through. I think it more than made up for a lack of elevation gain. The field was huge, and the turn-out overall was great.

There were lots of spectators, and even more cowbells. It was great to see so many people out cheering racers on. Some especially vocal spectator noticed that myself and one other racer were both wearing plain black jerseys and bibs, and took to calling us "the men in black" whenever we rode by. Turns out the other "man in black" was a guy named Andrew who destroyed most of the Cat 4 racers on his single speed (a really nice Serotta). I could only hang near for a little while before he completely dropped me. That guy is an animal.

I came in 18th overall, out of 60-some-odd racers. Oddly enough, that ended up putting me 18th overall in the MFG series standings, which I couldn't be more pleased with.

More pictures of the event, courtesy of the MFG Cyclocross' flickr:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/mfgcyclocross/sets/72157622525199740/

Oh, and I almost forgot the picture I snapped of this evil young CX fan:

That middle number could be an 8, but I'm pretty sure it was a 6. Awesome.

~D

BMX!!!

2009-10-08T10:59:00.000-07:00

Like every 10-year old kid, I had a BMX bike growing up, but I never actually rode BMX on it. Although I did take it off some pretty sweet jumps. There were lots of makeshift "tracks" in Spokane, built in vacant lots and in parks that provided countless hours of entertainment. One of my favorites was one that everybody called "Pizza Slut", because it was situated behind a Pizza Hut, and well.....we weren't very creative. There were some jumps, a berm or two, and some shitty ramps made out of wood and pallets and the like. I remember one infamous day I was trying to show off for my then-girlfriend by getting some sweet airtime on one of the jumps, and I ended up slamming my face into the dirt pretty hard, earning me the nickname "Hamburger Face" for the next few weeks while I healed.

On my way back from Crosstoberfest the other day, I rode by the legit BMX track out at North SeaTac park, and just HAD to ride it a few times on my 'cross bike:

I have a friend that races BMX out here on a regular basis, and I'd love to come watch him race sometime. I hear he's actually kind of a big deal.

I'm way to much of a weenie now to try getting any air on the jumps, but I'm okay with that. I wish my 10-year old self could have ridden this same track. I'm sure that "Hamburger Face" would have faired pretty well.

~D

Cyclocross 2009: Crosstoberfest

2009-10-08T10:45:00.000-07:00

Crosstoberfest 2009 was last Saturday, at North SeaTac Park, in well.....SeaTac. SeaTac is the only city I know of that's literally named after an airport, and the airport itself is named after the two main cities that it serves (Seattle and Tacoma). I haven't spent a lot of time in SeaTac, and it may in fact be a lovely town, but seriously: worst name ever.

I decided to take the light rail down to the Tukwila station, right near the aforementioned airport, and ride about a mile and a half to the race. Never one to miss an opportunity to take a picture of one of my bikes, I snapped a few pictures while I waited for the train:

Yep, you're seeing that correctly: I have mismatched wheels. I'm in the middle of building up a new set that will eventually find their way onto this bike, but for now I'll have to put my anal-retentiveness aside.

The train ride was quick, and once I got down to the Tukwila station, I headed north to the park, following Military Road. The road had a wide shoulder, but there was a lot of glass and other crap laying around. I kept thinking "I'm going to get a flat on my way to the race, and not have time to change it before the race starts". While this wasn't the case, I did happen to get a flat later that day........

The Cat4 field was much smaller than at the other MFG races I've been going to this year. I think there were about 30 of us, instead of the 50-75 riders that had been at the other events. My guess is that not too many people were "doubling up" on the racing for the weekend, since the Starbucks GP was the next day. My favorite part of the field: the couple on the tandem, dressed as a swim team. I didn't get a picture of them on the bike, but I did snap a picture of their mean machine later:

Now that's what I'm talking about.

During my pre-ride of the course, I was amazed at how much singletrack there was on the course, and technical sections on top of that. This first section of the course was on a running track, but it wasn't long before we were in the woods on some pretty gnarly singletrack. This course also contained the first "run-down" that I'd ever seen. It was a really steep downhill section that had some loose, torn-up dirt that made descending difficult. During the race, I rode it each time, mainly just skidding down it in a "controlled crash" sort of way, but I saw others just dismount and run down. There were also 2 run-ups, one was a loose dirt scramble, and another was a long set of stairs.

The track:

The stairs:

The race started with the usual sprint for the holeshot, and I faired pretty well, making my way up towards the front of the pack by going up the right-side. I seem to fair better on courses that are more technical and "singletracky" than courses that are more flat-out grass and asphalt, and I was able to move up in the field quite a bit in the first few minutes of the race, before everyone got spread out.

The laps were long, and this was a 30-minute race, so it wasn't long before I heard the bell indicating one more lap. I was getting pretty excited about the prospect of finishing near or in the top 10, but then again, I couldn't breathe and my legs were screaming, so it evened out. I could see a few people up in front of me, and I planned on hanging near them, or trying to catch up in this last lap in my quest for a top 10 finish. I was coming down a short straighaway about 1/3rd of the way through my last lap, when I heard a horrible "ppppppppssssssssssss" coming from my front tire. Within seconds it was completely flat. Shit.

I hopped off, and made my way to edge of the course, cursing up a storm (under my breath of course). Juuuust as I was about to go under the tape and leave the course, some guy shouted "Hey, number 20!". I looked up and saw a guy holding out a spare front wheel, motioning for me to take it. He said "the pressure's pretty low, so you'll probably have to baby it a little". I thanked him profusely while I scrambled to change my wheel. His rim was a little wider than the rim I had on originally, and I fumbled with getting the straddle wire put back on my front brake for a few moments while I heard people ride past me.

Once I finally got the wheel on, I was able to finish out the lap. I had to corner pretty gingerly though, since the pressure in the tire was pretty darn low. Finishing the race was way better than DNF-ing though, and I was incredibly thankful the guy who loaned me his wheel.

Once results were posted, I saw that I ended up in 16th place. The guy I'd been following before my flat came in 6th. So much for my top 10 finish! I stuck around for the awards, and watched the winner receive his 6-pack of Fat Tire, mix CD, and bag of homemade chocolate chip cookies. I couldn't think of better prizes to give out, especially since beer and cookies both sounded really incredibly good at the time.

Overall, the event was a great time. I loved the technical course, and having giant airliners flying just over the tops of the trees every few minutes. Despite Stevil Kinevil's recent pronouncement that racers tend to be douchebags (which they certainly can be), I met a bunch of friendly people that day, and even got to ride on their equipment. It's events like this one that really make me like 'cross.

~D

Busy Bike Weekend

2009-10-02T13:52:00.000-07:00

I seem to have lined up a pretty busy, bike-packed weekend for myself. Of course, there are a million other things that I probably need to do this weekend, but dammit, I'm going to have fun instead.

Saturday:

Crosstoberfest 2009 at North SeaTac Park. Even though I failed to organize a 3-person team for the much anticipated costume relay race, this should be a good time. I guess too many of my cycling friends were either out of town or "busy". Hmmmm. I'll be doing the Cat 4 race, hopefully saving enough energy to do reasonably well in Sunday's race. I'm going to throw my 'cross bike on the light rail that goes right by my house, and then bike about 1.5 miles to the park. Hopefully I don't bring too much mud back with me on the return trip!

Sunday:

Starbucks Gran Prix at Lake Sammamish State Park. This is the 3rd MFG series race of the year, and I'm really excited to get back out there and help out my overall series standings (I'm currently tied for 23rd overall). Plus, I hear there's going to be a stretch of beach on the course, complete with deep sand. Should be interesting to say the least.
Wheelbuilding class #1 at Wright Brothers Cycleworks. I've always thought that wheelbuilding and truing was something of a black art among bike maintenance tasks. Many people have told me that it's not as hard as it looks, etc. etc, but I'm still convinced that there's some sort of magic involved in producing a perfectly trued and tensioned bike wheel. We'll see how it shapes up. I'm going to build a nice wheelset with 32 hole Open Pros, laced 3x to some 105 hubs.

Can't wait to get started. Now all I have to do is kill a few more Friday afternoon hours at the office.

Honjo fender fixes

2009-09-28T21:20:00.000-07:00

Let me start this post by saying that I'm a huge fan of Honjo fenders. As I've said before, they're amazing, but a huge PITA to install and dial in.

I'd bought a set of the extra-long, 36mm width Honjos from Velo Orange for the Mercian, and I loved the extra coverage that the fenders had. I probably don't even need to worry about a mudflap with these fenders, the coverage is so good. We'll see.

The only problem was that the front-most portion of the front fender rattled and vibrated whenever I rode on rough surfaces like a bumpy or chip-sealed road. And riding with one hand off the bars (whether drinking water or signaling, or whatever else) made the problem waaay worse. The Mercian has a fender boss under the fork crown, and I'd tried all sort of mounting setups: rubber washers, metal washers, different bolts, etc to no avail.

Since the read fender has 3 mounting points (chainstay bridge, seatstay bridge, and fender stay), it was rock solid. The front fender only has 2 mounting points (fender stay and fork crown boss), and it obviously wasn't enough to keep the entire thing steady.

I spent a bunch of time googling around, but I didn't really find a whole lot of useful information about this problem. I wasn't ready to commit to having a Nitto-style rack on the front, just to get the extra fender-mount that those racks provide. Finally, after seeing this post on the wonderful Cycling Spokane blog, I decided I would just add an extra stay to the front fender. I also found a few images of some sweet bikes that had extra fender stays on the front, and they looked good:

(image courtesy of Vintage Bicycle Press)

Since I only had one set of eyelets on the fork, it was a little challenging, but I was able to mount both stays on the one eyelet. I put an r-clip on the outside of the fork as usual, and another r-clip on the inside, with a Nylock nut to hold it on to the long hex bolt that I used.

Here's a crappy picture of what I'm talking about:

Turned out pretty good I think:

As soon as I took the first ride after getting it all set up, I knew I'd done the right thing. Vibration gone, rattling gone. Hopefully by putting this online, it'll be found by the next person who encounters the same issue. I know not everyone that buys these extra-long fenders has a front rack with a fender mount to keep the front fender steady.

The Mercian is famous (sort of)

2009-09-21T17:48:00.000-07:00

So I fired up my Google Reader this morning to find that my beautiful, wonderful Mercian had made its way onto the blog of the owner of Mercian Cycles. Pretty cool. I had sent them an email to tell them how thrilled I was with the bike, since I felt like the people who built this machine with their own hands should know how incredibly happy it was making me.

I included the same pic that I posted on this blog, right after I finished building it up:

Let's see Trek or Specialized or whoever do that for you.

Check it out here:
http://www.mercianblog.com/2009/09/seattle-calling.html

~D