Inna-gadda-da-something

A tale of many hills, and some trail mix, and a ride well equipped with medical staff posing as riders. Or something like that.

Saturday was an impromptu 'Low Hills' ride. Which means not too much total altitude, lots o' pain. It also had some unplanned excitement. I will elaborate.

The ride featured a number of short but steep hills, of which the first was Altamont. Altamont has both steepness and climbing right before it, which adds to the challenge. It was also a lot prettier last year, when it was lined with huge eucalyptus trees. They seem to have cut them all done. Safety, I guess, but it does look so sad now. Also, unlike last week, I lost my bike computer a total of zero times. This is a decided improvement.

Anyhow, at the top of Altamont, one of the riders, Adrienne, was feeling pretty bad, and it turned that we had both a retired cardiologist and a cardiology nurse on the ride. The whole group accumulated at the top of Altamont while discussion went on. A borrowed heart rate monitor showed that her heart rate was very high - 220 for a brief time! The group stayed at the top of the hill for some time trying to figure out what to do, and after it was clear that her heartrate wasn't going right back to normal it was decided that she needed to go get checked out at a hospital. Mark, another rider, volunteered to go back to get his car and drive her to the hospital. Meanwhile she felt better enough to stand up and give out some Clif Shot Blocks.
Finally Mark arrived and they went off to the hospital, or so we thought, and the group continued.

The group en-masse quietly skipped the optional climb up Golden Oak (aw) opting to leave that pain for another day, I guess, and shortly after we regrouped at Alpine and Portola, a truck pulled up, and out came Mark with his bike. Apparently Adrienne was going to drive herself to the hospital, which seems a little unusual, but whatever.

After that we climbed Westridge from the Portola side (not nearly as bad as from Alpine, I can say) and I actually (dare I say this?) felt - strong. Which is kinda nice. The pics I took show a bunch of riders in front of me, but I stood up after that and spun past them. Just to see if I could. 'Twas nice. Westridge got the group strung out enough that by the time I went down Portola, I had no real certainty that I was actually with them anymore. No one in front, no one behind. By sheer luck and guesswork (not enough route sheets, so I didn't know the route) I made my way to the Woodside General Store, and there found the regroup point.

Later we were going up Canada, and noticed a motorcycle cop appear across the road and flash his lights to pull over a cyclist going the other way. Apparently the periodic stop of cyclist running across the top of the T with Jefferson was going on. I stayed with the small subgroup who turned off to climb Godetia, and at the top a very nice :) young lady who was driving by stopped to warn us about the cop below who was stopping cyclists. Proof that not all the Woodside motorists are hostile.

Anyhow, rest of the ride was pretty uneventful, and the Lakeside climb was rewarded with a nice view.

Oh, and on my way to the ride start In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida was playing (no idea when I've heard that last) so it was going through my head the whole time.

Pics:

Mmm. Soup.

So, two rides, one post. Anyhow.

So I got in about 100+ miles last weekend, which is not bad. My legs were telling me about it for days. The main ride I wanted to do was on Sunday, but an impromputu ride was called for Saturday, and I hadn't ridden for weeks, so I figured I'd do that as well.
However, the night before that Nick asked me if I wanted to take him riding, so of course I did that preferentially. So Saturday morning, bright and early and cold, I headed out with him, intending to try taking him up Mt. Eden for the first time. Unfortunately, one of us (guess who) wasn't wearing anything covering their ears (note: cold) and he actually gave himself a headache from the cold going downhill. :( So we turned around before we even got to Stevens Canyon. Next time, I guess.

It was still early enough to go on Saturday's ride to Los Gatos, so I did so upon returning home, leaving my poor son sitting upon the couch.



That ride was good fun, and I felt just fine for having not been on the road for a couple of weeks. The one problem was that five minutes before I had to leave my bike leaned up against something in the garage that freakishly snapped off the center of the mount for my Garmin Edge, so that it wouldn't lock into place.
I figured it would last for one ride.
Wrong.
Fifteen minutes in I heard an odd noise and looked down to see that my computer was gone!
Fortunately, some nice person riding a bit behind me saw where it had gotten to, off in a pile of leaves by the side of the road, or I would never have found it again. 'Twould have been a costly ride.
Stuffed it in my pocket for the rest of the ride, needless to say.
Saw some nice new (for me) roads going back through Saratoga, but no pics at all from that ride, alas.

So I made sure to get a replacement mount that day and put it on, using a cable tie tool to make it nice and tight. Perhaps a bit too tight, see...



Next day, the ride to Pescadero for lunch at Duarte's. And what do I find at the start? I can't get the computer to snap into the new mount. Hadn't tried that part, it seems. I didn't want to force it and break another one, so I improvised and put Mr. Edge into my handlebar map holder. Frustrating, though. Especially as people kept giving me helpful suggestions on it, and I was trying to ignore the whole matter, as there wasn't anything I could do right there.

Clearly I wasn't meant to use a computer last weekend.
So, a pretty good ride, all in all. I was going strong for most of the way to Pescadero. I was sure I was going to make a new personal best up Old La Honda, but ended up tying my previous one, at 31:30. At least that's a minute faster than the last time. I am convinced that eventually I will lose enough weight to get some respectable times.

I did all right going up Haskins, also, and then oddly I lost the group after the descent on the other side. Didn't catch them until I pulled into Pescadero. However, at least I had many animals to view on my way in. There were horses, sheep, cows, llamas...

So, the main event. I was totally famished at this point, so I don't know that the food was really delicious, but I can say that I successfully obtained the famous artichoke soup and green chile soup combo, with some nice fresh baked bread to dip in it. Yum. And, as I was the only one to not have any beer, I felt quite justified in having a bit of apricot pie to go with it. After all, why ride if you can't replenish some of those calories with tasty treats?

After lunch I'm sure I was lagging, for some reason I was just not keeping up enormously well on the little hills on Stage, and probably part of that was anticipating Tunitas Creek to come.
On the down side, when I got to the end of the rough part on that the other riders had probably been waiting there almost ten minutes. On the bright side, the last time I was going so slow that my Edge kept autopausing because it thought that I was stopped. At least this time I was going about double that speed, and with a heartrate about 20 bpm less, as well.

So I suspect that I could actually have physically gone up a bit faster than I did. As it was, once again once I got past the steep part I was able to go pretty quickly, because it feels almost like it's flat by comparison with what precedes it. The odd thing about the rough part of Tunitas is that I think I actually went faster there than on the earlier part of the climb. Anticipating it was worse than actually doing it, at least this time.

On our descent down Kings Mountain, Kathy, in our group, took a spill. Fortunately no injuries. I was about fifteen feet behind her and it was extremely alarming to see her bike suddenly slide over on a turn and hit the ground. She basically looked like she bounced off the road and then leaped off her bike and went running down the hill. This is probably responsible for the lack of injury. I've never seen anything quite like that.

By the time we got back, it was dark, so I got a certain amount of chastisement, but it was a fun day.

And there, I've blogged just in time for the next ride.

Pics here.

Nick in a suit

Nick in a suit
Originally uploaded by BetaMoose.

OK, this picture was amusing enough I had to blog it. Nick had a mock trial at school and needed a suit, so I loaned him one of my ancient and long disused ones. Since, after all, he was biking in it. Huh. I could start wearing suits as cycling gear.

Also, Nick holds up this post from someone at my alma mater as an example of why he dislikes a certain best-selling book so much.

The Trail and beyond

deSo despite my legs being worn from 65 miles or so on Saturday, on Sunday Eric and I went for a ride. Since the previous week we had considered but decided against going to the end of the Los Gatos Creek Trail and exploring, I thought we could try it this week.
At this point I need to interject that while I really like my Garmin Edge, the software they bundle with it is utterly worthless. It's not that it's broken, per se, it's just so limited that you quickly learn to avoid doing anything with it. For example, I tried to use it for my previous post to figure out how many miles I was into the ride when I saw the accident. But no, to do that I'd have to zoom the ride profile, and while Training Center has a zoom button, for some inexplicable reason it only zooms one axis, leaving the horizontal axis always at full scale.
I fondly remember the badly translated from German software that came with my Ciclosport CM436. It had garbled menu names, and the word 'Schnauf!' appearing seemingly at random, but you could zoom any which way into your ride.
Fortunately, there's services like MotionBased, and free software like SportTracks, which make the device useful.
Where was I? Oh, right.
So I scribbled some notes on what turns to make after we got off the trail, as my attempts to create a course for my GPS device failed around 1:30 in the morning before the ride, and took them along.
I figured it would be a flat ride, going along a trail, after all, so of course I was wrong. After some initial climbs on Peach Hill, Canon, and Villa Montalvo (I waved at the site of my accident last January when coming down from Canon, but very very carefully...) we had the bright idea of trying to avoid riding along Saratoga Los Gatos road, and having less traffic to deal with.
This involved repeated side trips along roads that really really looked like they'd take you south, and climbed, and climbed...and dead-ended.
Eventually we stopped turning on them. The first road we bypassed in fact turned out to go into Los Gatos. And for that matter, the very first intersection we passed after Villa Montalvo was the route we were looking for, that went all the way to Los Gatos without going along the main road, only it was a labeled 'Not A Through Street'. Note that none of the dead ends we encountered were labeled as such.
I really should have known.

Be that as it may, we then went on to the trail, took it to the San Jose end, and miraculously my little page of scribbled turns got us into known territory. I guess it's when you think you know where you are that you get lost.
Photos here

So this blog is going to be different from what I expected. I figured on a few comments about the weather, maybe an interesting sight or two. Maybe even a tough climb (gasp)! Regardless, it had more excitement than some.

Anyhow, so this was the Western Wheelers annual Candy Classic ride, so called because it stops at a tasty bakery in Burlingame. About 24 miles in to the ride, as I was climbing up the small hill to the Bunker Hill offramp I heard a noise that sounded like what you hear when a truck goes by with no cargo and the load bed bangs around.

I glanced to my right just in time to see a vehicle with a rather smashed in hood rolling over and stopping on its right side, on the embankment in the middle of 280.

I yelled ahead to the people in front of me, but they'd already seen it happen. When I got to the interchange a minute or so later, we milled about for a bit not knowing what to do. People fumbling for cellphones, etc.

In less time than it takes to tell about it, we suddenly noticed that Mike (default name for Western Wheelers members, I'm starting to realize) was down the embankment and darting through the now mostly stopped traffic to get to the truck. It was smoking slightly, and there was understandable concern that it might do something bad, like, say, explode.

Fortunately, there were no explosions, and as we watched anxiously Mike helped get the driver out of his pickup. It seemed like there was another cyclist also helping, but where he came from (or went to, for that matter) I don't know, so maybe I imagined that.
Edit: Well, I just uploaded the pics, and I guess there was another cyclist. Mystery Rescue Cyclist.

After what seemed like a long time, some cars finally stopped and other people got out, so that we could safely leave the scene. Apparently the driver was an older gentleman who'd fallen asleep at the wheel and crashed right into the pillar holding up the overpass. Amazing that he'd survived. Sounded like he was in pretty good shape, just cuts and bruises.

Anyhow, that was the most excitement for the day. We continued on, climbed through Hillsborough, saw the Spreckels mansion, and after lunch at the Steelhead brewery, headed back via the trail along the bay.

Only other minor anecdote I have is that shortly after his rescue activity, someone called ahead that Mike was behind fixing a flat. It must have been a bad one, because it took like fifteen minutes, and while we were waiting, I was chatting with a group which included Mike's wife Priscilla, who commented, "I wonder who we're waiting for?" "Um, Mike, that is, *your* Mike..." "Ohh...."

Further edit: I notice one or two pictures that require explanation. The picture at Arastradero I took simply because right then a car zoomed into the preserve parking lot, with the Macarena blaring through closed windows. So I took a shot of the group with the Macarenamobile behind.

Pics here.

Parking it

So Saturday, in search of novel places for pain, we headed to the end of Prospect to seek a route over the hill to Comer, and another way to connect to Pierce. I guess because Pierce isn't painful enough? Hmm.

Anyhow, we ended up climbing Parker Ranch from Prospect, which wasn't bad, and then turning onto Prospect again when Parker Ranch connected with a 'Not a Through Street' road. However, this took us into Freemont Older, which, while looking like a fine park for hiking and such, really did us no good whatsoever in terms of progressing more than a few feet forward, as our bikes couldn't morph into hiking boots.

Thus we turned around and went back to Parker Ranch, where I figured we might as well examine the 'Not a Through Street' more closely. Dead end 16+% streets can be a little unnerving, and after a bit I stopped (yes, that was lame of me) because I wasn't sure if we could get anywhere. Along came a nice family strolling down the road, (which actually seemed surprisingly full of walkers and joggers) and they thought it went through.

Having thus boosted our confidence, we crawled up Parker Ranch to the top, where there was a fine view across the valley.

Then we got confused again, because it looked like a dead end with driveways coming off it. But there were even more joggers, and they helpfully told us that the seeming driveway was in fact a road. Thus we continued on from this apparent lovers lane, finding that of course we had not in fact been at the top, and there was even more climbing to do. Fortunately, someone had thoughtfully left out a big leather easy chair and divan in next to their driveway, to let passing cyclist take a breather on their way.

Anyhow, we did indeed find the connection down to Pierce, and clearly had taken the easier direction on this route, because the way down was steep.

Our next exercise in pain was the experiment of turning off Pierce towards downtown Saratoga via Sarahills. Last week I explored a little of the other side, which went rather up, so naturally I figured that this side must go...down. Seems logical to me. Nope. Wrong. No way. It also went...up. Not fair at all, one thinks. For some reason it definitely felt rougher than Parker Ranch. Nice view on the downhill, though, and a good view across the valley to Comer, which looked impressive from afar.
And, yes, Eric, I think it was Comer, because there's nuttin' else on the map over there.

Anyhow, from Saratoga we went down as far as Los Gatos, paused to chat with the nice friendly park attendant at Vasona, trying to figure out directions, and then took the safe route and headed circuitously back north. But no more climbing at that point, just semi-random direction choices that eventually took us back to my house.

Next time we figure out some useful ways to get back from the Los Gatos Creek Trail, I think.

Nick and I go a-wandering

Today Nick said that he'd like go riding with me, so naturally I arranged to do this. Went to spin class first, then came back and set off with him.
I thought we'd head into Saratoga and do the Maze in reverse, more or less.

On the way there Nick kept mentioning how he didn't want to do any hills, which seemed a little silly to me...:)
I had a hard time convincing him of the value of hill-climbing though, so I figured I'd ease him into it instead. So, first when we got to Comer, I figured I'd see what some of it was like, and so my surprise he followed me. Just a block or so, but it was a start. Then a little ways up Sarahills, 'just to the speed limit sign' and this time he found he didn't mind it so much.

But where he really surprised me was going up Canyon View, a street that I guess I must only have done in the other direction before. It seems to be about 19% in the direction we were headed. Not for long, but still. I suggested he try it, but only maybe as far as the hydrant, because it seemed to top out there.
To my surprise, while loudly telling me that I was wrong, and that it didn't end there, he headed up, starting right on the hill, and disappeared out of sight.
Me, I had to head to the bottom to get a good start on it, because it was steeper than I'd expected. And sure enough, it didn't end at the hydrant, but Nick was past there at the top, having sped up that thing in no time.
He has the sixteen-year old power going for him, that's for sure.

Also there was the older Asian guy we saw when we mistakenly went past the turn into Saratoga and started climbing up Canyon View further on. 'Strong men don't turn around' he said. I felt like I was in an old episode of Kung Fu.

After that we stopped in downtown Saratoga, where I got Nick a drink and a something tasty to eat after his hard labors, and chatted with some other cyclists (and a fellow Edge owner) while he ate. Quite a nice morning in all.

Oh, and no pics at all of the nice fall scenery, because the camera got left at home, alas. Nick suggests that the garage needs some kind of wireless connection to slurp the photos out of the camera when I pull out. I wonder how to arrange that...hmm...

The staple of our discontent

Today I did another Western Wheelers ride, led by Joel Vano.
It went pretty well, despite my numerous acts of foolishness.

1. Forgetting my water bottles at home
2. Drinking enough coffee to get my heartrate way above what was comfortable climbing Old La Honda
3. Leaving the camera set on ISO 1000 (OK, so not so crucial, but it did make my pictures look like Matisse had painted them). A certain friend who shall remain nameless did something much the same on a certain vacation, I believe.

Fortunately, I realized where my bottles were in time to stop by a gas station and buy some Gatorade with what turned out to be my last cash. I really need to get better at keeping some on hand.

Anyhow, the four of us went up OLH, did the five mile slog south on Skyline to Page Mill, and then down Page Mill. Weather was perfect, and views were pretty good along the Skyline stretch. Less haze would have improved them, but hey, the way my camera was set I wouldn't have gotten any good photos of the view anyhow.

Also, despite the coffee I managed to come ever closer to my previous personal best on Old La Honda, so that's a good thing. OK, so I was last in the group. Ppppht.

And as an indicator as to how wacky I can get on rides sometimes, I have a definite memory that on the early steeper part of the descent down Page Mill, I was talking myself through the turns, saying 'Don't brake here, don't brake in the turn, countersteer *now*' and stuff like that. Not sure why I was doing that, but I felt pretty confident going down, so it worked out.

I should also mention that we stopped at the John Peckham memorial on Old Page Mill, which was a rather sobering experience.

Oh, right, the title. On the way back along Alameda, zooming along with a nice tailwind, suddenly I felt my rear wheel lurch to the right. Instant flat.
It turned out to be a big staple embedded in my rear tire. Annoying, but got it changed quickly and with the help of Mike (Fast Mike, I believe, as opposed to the Mustache Mike I rode with last week) got the wheel back on without my usual fumblings.

And here's the ride profile and stuff:

Sometimes it really is as hard as it looks

Well, so I'll see how keeping a ride blog goes.

Sunday was a Western Wheelers ride that was not too long, but had possibly the toughest bit of hill I've done yet. It was scary going down because I knew I'd have to go back up...actually considered stopping midway to avoid that, not that I could have on a 20+% grade...
Fortunately there were only two of those, but that wasn't obvious on the downhill, which made me a bix anxious anticipating the return trip up.

Anyhow, the curious thing about Portola State Park road is that it made West Alpine seem like...well...a walk in the park. Oddly enough.



Also I've been playing with RoboGeo , since it dawned on me that I always had a GPS track for my photos now. It nicely geocoded all my shots with my new Sony T10, and here they are:

Now if only the MotionBased guys could grab that stuff, things would be perfect.

Except for the 23% grades, that is. Those are not perfect.

Same thing as the old joke about the guy who liked to beat himself on the head.