Ouch

I got caught by Starla in my Bike Central T-Shirt on a day I planned to ride...somewhat. Starla was ill, and I had been and had almost recovered. I was going to do the UCSD to Carlsbad Village ride I'd done two weeks before. However after that ride, I fell ill, and, well, didn't ride so much. But, armed with renewed health, and the new Wilco album, supported by the tiny desk concert , I made my way up the coast again. Thanksgiving and Christmas reservations at Joshua Tree loom, so I can no longer submit to depression, and I have to get fit for the 8 mile climb into the park. I guess it's for the best...we'll see what Gram Parsons has to say.

It's Back

June Gloom.

As far as the eye can see.

Mileposts

As much as I've tried to make this edition of returning to cycling after injury proceed in as conservative fashion as possible, eventually, I was going to start passing some mileposts. While most of the mileposts are long gone from the Coast Route--except for a couple on the Torrey Pines Grade--my personal ones are starting to add up. Last Friday, while descending the TP Grade, I was calculating the miles I'd ridden that week (instead of paying attention to what I was doing), and I discovered that when I got home, I'd have over 100 miles ridden for the week. After the descent, while smugly snuggling in that warm thought, a rider passed me, but it was not one of the ordinary riders who frequently passes me these days, but rather it was John Howard. While normally my ego would be aflame by being passed by someone 15 years older than me, mine was assuaged by the fact that he is the land speed record holder on a bicycle, so I should expect to, if my bicycle had doors, have them blown off. Anyway, he's lived in the area longer than me, and I recognized him from my previous experiences of him effortlessly riding past me. When am I gonna catch up?

However, the day before yesterday, I had laid all items in preparation, and I whispered to Starla when she stopped by to revel in her post-defense, anti-intellectualist celebration that I was going to ride my entire commute the next day. Sadly, since I told her that, I was obliged to follow through. Fortunately, along with having work clothes and lunch ready, I had prepped my Masi for action.

Despite the fact I hadn't ridden my Masi in almost two years, I headed off on it at 5:40am to points south. I went from completely awkward to somewhat awkward in the first five miles, then moved on from there. It was a fine early morning, and the rolling terrain lead me to La Costa Blvd where I tucked in to my aero bars...and I realized how unfit I was! A quick diversion took me to Piraeus St. (which has a non-traditional intersection with Leucadia Blvd.), then once through a traffic circle, I rode a nostalgic route through the remainder of the "Leu" to Vulcan. From there, then to the coast route, the ride was quick, and would have been uneventful except for my boss catching me in my aero bars by Seaside. Still, despite the Law Enforcement/Special Olympics torch relay, the remainder of the ride to UCSD was uneventful.

Riding home was an exercise in conservation, and a headwind drove the exercise home. Still, with no choice but to gut it out and aero bars for the open stretches, the slog north on the coast route was doable. Turning right and with the wind on Cannon Rd really changed the whole atmosphere. Success was only a few miles away, and after the College Blvd climb, it was only a matter of moments before I was at Bottle Bin:

Would you believe that every can in that bag is now empty???

Bike to Work Day 2011

Yes, it was a good Bike to Work Day. My Nineteenth. Wearing my well preserved 1993 Bike to Work Day T-Shirt, I biked, trained, trained, then biked to work. The fine UCSD assembly awaited me, with lots of riders, vendors, and staffers welcoming me. I chatted with long-time riding companions and got, not only a t-shirt, but a prize, a bold cup of coffee, and a couple of tasty treats. No beers, however, but it's bike to work after all.

Later, Starla of singlespeedsanity fame stopped in, and updated me on her defense, which is May 26th. Afterwards, she departs to Munich to ride to Athens. She'll let you know how many speeds it takes.

Next was Ride Home from Work Day, and the weather and wind was perfect. I had no desire to shoot pictures, so you'll have to take my word for it. Monday rolled around quickly, and I took my truck in for service, then rode the remaining 2/3rds of the way to work. It was an awful, damp headwind I rode into, but the return trip had a reverse of the wind, and I collected my serviced truck in a satisfied way. However, this meant I didn't have my bike at Sorrento Valley, so I rode Tuesday to Oceanside Transit Center and loaded the Heron on the Coaster. I stopped on the way to snap a pic of the latest mural for my bud Katie:

The Heron and I made it to Sorrento Valley, then to work and back. Secured in it's locker, I double-trained, then cycled, home. All bikes were now pre-positioned for the rest of the week, and with plenty of "barley pop" in hand, we'll get through it.

The Challenge Continues

Because of the news that Sunday night, I knew the following Monday morning's ride would be enjoyable. However, I hate to break it to anyone who happened to stop breathing that Sunday and who was now feeding the fishes in some ocean depths, but Monday morning was a spectacularly nice day:

However, the big goal Monday morning was to not forget to stop at Swamis to see the Moai carving. It seems a Torrey Pine was infested with the bark beetle and had to be cut down this January, but the best was made of it. I pulled into the roadside park in the early morning calm, and snapped a few photos:

From there, the Commuter Challenge raged on, and the week continued with bikes, trains, and lockers until Friday. My colleague Doug told me about the guy that used to be on crazyguyonabike.com, but is now fattiredrifter.com , and is now on his way from Beijing to somewhere in Europe. Consequently, Friday's ride didn't seem all that long, but after cresting the climb on College at Tamarack, the descent to Vista Way seemed kinda slow. Plus, there was this odd sound...and when I looked down, the front tire seemed to have a configuration that it really shouldn't.

Still, there wasn't the disheartening rapid innertube decompression accompanied by catastrophic air loss. Instead, the tire just got softer as I descended the hill. Since the bottom of that hill is a busy place and a bad spot to fix a puncture, I thought I'd see if I could get to a quieter place to make a repair. I was able to nurse it onto Vista Way, ironically across the street from the hospital emergency room that I visited last year, and I thought I'd try putting air in the tube and seeing if it would hold long enough. It seemed firm enough to continue on, and much like Johan Vansummeren at Paris-Roubaix this year, I limped on my deflating tire to burritos and beer before home much like how Vansummeren held off the charging Fabian Cancellara. Mine was at a lower speed, of course, but the reward was likely equal.

Since then, the remainder of the Commuter Challenge has gone well. I haven't driven my truck in a month, and I wonder if it will still start. I'll give it a test this weekend, but tomorrow is the finale of the Challenge--Bike to Work Day! While most places hold this high holiday on Thursday, San Diego is sublimely intelligent by holding it on Friday, so that Bike Home from Work Day can be much more relaxed. Oddly enough, California Bicycle Commute Week has coincided with the Tour of California, and it was indeed exciting for me to watch my former Swami's teammate Chris Horner stomp the competition on Sierra Road to take the lead in the race. I'll be sneaking a peak at the time trial tomorrow, and glued to the screen on Saturday to see if he can win this thing. If you've never had the pleasure of riding with Chris Horner, I can tell you that he is the guy vanishing in the distance when you can briefly look up as you ride at your max. He had a long, blonde ponytail when he rode on Swami's, but unlike Sampson, losing his hair only made him stronger.

Why doesn't that work for me?

Challenges

This Thursday kicked off the Bicycle Commuter Challenge at UCSD, and I dove in to do my part. But previously, I had to negotiate a new, power pop fueled preparation. Vacation over Finals Week and Spring Break had to be taken, but on the days of good weather, I had doctor's appointments at the hospital next to the university where I work. Thus, commutes eerily similar to the ones I do when not on vacation were done. However, leaving the hospital, I could take the long way to the train station, and I could take in an alternate view of the Penasquitos Lagoon.

In fact, on the second day of vacation/doctor's appointments, I took my bike home on the train. I used to do this on a daily basis, and I hated it because bicycle-by-rail culture is not very advanced in North San Diego County. However, on an early afternoon Coaster in March, conditions aren't so bad.

This winter's blend into spring was quite rainy for this here locale, and it seemed to rain every day I had off. When I returned from vacation, I had gotten out of the cycle commuting rhythm I'd established. I took to walking down to the train station from work, because the idea of transporting a bicycle to UCSD by riding it there seemed more and more difficult. However, I got really drunk on a Sunday, and the next day's hangover somehow inspired me to make my long commute. No matter what, no commute will seem that bad, so, of course, the first ride back home involved this vision.

In fact, it was quite a traffic stopper.

So, I had no problem going a little out of my way to pick up a beer or two on the way home. I also planned for the weekend hangover to occur on Sunday, so Monday I was up bright and early to take on the more hilly, but shorter, College Blvd/Cannon Rd variant of my commute. The dawn broke over the Cerro de la Calavera East of College Blvd:

The descent of College ends at a 90 degree right-hand turn, and the road becomes Cannon. A long, flat stretch that crosses El Camino Real ends with a climb, the beginning of which gives a view across the Agua Hedondia Lagoon and its intricate maze of transmission lines from the Encina Power Plant:

The transmission lines used to give me the unsettling feeling of death because they interfered with my wireless heart rate monitor, which I wore when I cared about such things. The little climb does get the heart rate up, but when you see it drop to zero you wonder if you've died and gone to a hell where every road goes up.

The remainder of the commute was pleasant since it didn't involve a hangover, and I resumed my usual complex combination of trains, lockers, and bicycles for commuting the rest of the week. However, in the news was a report of a mysterious mosaic of a surfing Madonna being surreptitiously mounted in Encinitas. Frustratingly, it was mounted on one of the towers of a trestle that my train passes over, so I had to wait for Friday when I would cycle past to see it.

Public art on the coast has been controversial at best. Carlsbad's Split Pavilion is a fine example of that sort of controversy. Hire an outsider to capture the coastal feel, and the results are what you'd expect. A New Yorker put Carlsbad in prison. Later, Cardiff hired a dude from Hemet to sculpt a surfer, but unlike how Michelangelo made David an idealized Palestinian rather than a historically correct one, the Cardiff Kook looks like how I surfed--that is when I wasn't desperately trying to avoid the negative consequences of having a buoyant, spear-shaped object attached to my leg with an elastic band. However, rather than removing the Kook, the unintended humor of his appearance is constantly lampooned.

So, I was intrigued by the idea of someone bypassing all the bureaucratic public art approval process, and just sticking their work on the wall and seeing what happens. I happily didn't space out and ride past Encinitas Blvd, but rather, turned right, and discovered that the mosaic was on the north tower, facing south. I tried a shot from the south side of the boulevard, but it's a both a popular piece and it's on a busy road (as well as it being Friday afternoon commute time).

I walked to the corner, crossed the street, and tried to, from a number of acute angles, better capture the piece.

Up close, one is struck by both the exquisite detail of the work and also by how totally unprotected it is. Whether or not the City of Encinitas allows it to stay is an open question because it will involve a creative solution to an unexpected circumstance. While I'm not optimistic about the chances for such a solution being derived by that body, I still have hope.

Well, tomorrow it's back to work and back to racking up miles for the commuter challenge. Also, I hear there's an Easter Island head being carved out of a stump at Swami's, so I'll try not to space out and pass it without snapping a pic or two.

Couser Canyon

The week started well. Monday morning's commute saw the dawn edge earlier to my departure, and I found it on the east side of the Buena Vista Lagoon.

Things moved along through the early morning quiet in Carlsbad Village to the coast, and a brief stop at the beach gave me a chance to capture my trusty XO-2 with another scenic background.

In those early morning hours, with auto traffic light but with the frequent company of others running and walking in the calm of the early day, despite the chill, I reaped the reward of my early rise and departure. Further on down the coast route, just past Palomar Airport Road, there's one of my favorite places to survey the coastline, and this is how it looked that last morning of February:

There's this guy who drives a perfect condition, mid-70s Datsun B-210 on the coast route, and he parks it in places tempting for me to photograph. Unfortunately, he's always sitting in the car, so I haven't snapped a pic yet. Next time I see him, however, I'm banging on his window and getting permission. That car takes me way back.

In the meantime, here's a car that parks at the Encinitas Coaster Station nearly every dang day...and in a way that seems to make some sort of statement:

However, at the end of the week, I thought I'd try something different. However, what I did was different, but unintended: I lost my keys. Along with them, I lost my sense of confidence in venturing away from home, and my plans for a weekend ride in the country went astray. Fortunately, my commute, due to its length, forces one to stay in touch with their inner adventurer, and after a week of successfully commuting without losing any additional keys, and a Saturday spent watching a locksmith restore my access to my mailbox (at a princely sum!), I was truly ready for something different.

That something different was to go on a bike ride that didn't involve a train station or a place of employment, nor a bike that had a rack and mudguards. So, on a foggy Sunday, I set out to rediscover some favorite roads. Riding east, away from the coast, one finds that the terrain is quite different.

This descent comes at the end of Gopher Canyon Road, which is a fun ride except that the road has access to the I-15 freeway and many motorists use the road as a warm-up to driving at highway speed. Early Sunday morning is not so bad, however, but this signed descent sharply drops to not only where the road ends in a T at the bottom of the hill, but also where it crosses under I-15. Once one negotiates past the motorists itching to turn left in front of you, and makes the stop at the bottom of the hill, the ride really mellows out. Continuing east, one climbs Circle R Road, one of my favorite climbs, ascending or descending.

A canopy of live oaks is a fine sight, but mostly it's citrus and avocado groves here. Despite the agricultural nature of the groves, it is a relief from the palms and eucalyptus of the coast. Circle R summits, and meets West Lilac Road (which, this time of year, one finds appropriately named), passes Munster Platz (I had no idea they lived here!), then tees with Lilac Road. A minimal climb summits, and the real fun begins.

This descent is broken into three parts, and the first part on Lilac Road sets the tone. A steep drop into a series of left-right switchbacks on irregular pavement with no guardrails gets the party started, sending one down and finally bottoming out at the oak hollow at Keys Creek. Out of the hollow, the road rolls over a rise, then a dip, and then intersects with Couser Canyon Road. Immediately, the road shoots up with a steady and steep pace. It's only about a mile, but the summit has the circumstance that would allow a KOM banner, and the crossing leads to drinking, sunglasses mounted, and arm warmers (if in season) pulled up.

This second part is much like the first, fast right-left turns through citrus and avocado groves, then it empties out into an oak hollow. This hollow has a horse ranch on the right hand side, which is indicated by a life-size statue of a horse in the oaks. This statue does nothing but make the passing rider think that there is a loose horse next to the road, and since horses are startled by cyclists into either stepping into their path, or depositing a slippery, smelly, semi-solid substance onto the road, it's a little alarming to approach at 40mph. Still, once past that, the road is slightly downhill, and one can hammer a big gear through the hollow until a right-hand bend rises up to a left-hand corner which leads to the final third of the descent.

From there, its another winding, guardrail-less descent down to the San Luis Rey River valley. It's a great descent, allowing one to truly ride their bike, but one has to be aware of the avocados that dot the road--guacamole is slippery! The descent ends in an idyllic, pastoral landscape, and the last half mile to hwy 76 allows one to relax, stretch, and prepare for a change in scenery and tempo. I'll leave the description of the next portion to another time, but I did snap this pic...

I always thought that Thornton Wilder was writing about this Bridge of San Luis Rey. Sadly, he wasn't, but I still think there's a little literature in my weekend rides...

Fighting Complacency

Before the rain started last Friday, and despite the raging tailwind, I was starting to think about how routine my commute was becoming. The excitement of returning to this kind of riding/commuting was wearing off, and since I count the number of times I've ridden this route in the thousands, it's more than a little understandable. However, having sheets of rain descend on you as you try to negotiate your path in an increasingly saturated state, then having one of your tires start to have air pressure issues (in this case, the front tire), tends to upset the routine a little.

Once I was able to recover from last Friday's adventure and retrieve my trusty XO-2 from Carlsbad, I could get down to the preparations for the following week. I returned the Heron to my locker at the Melrose Sprinter station, walked home (it was a beautiful, post-rainstorm day, and you could see the snow on Mt San Gregorino and Mt San Jacinto from the station), and set out to make the XO-2 roadworthy again. A good cleaning, then chain lubing got the process started, but I needed to solve that air pressure issue. It was easy to spot the thorn that had caused the puncture--yes, the dreaded Tribulus terrestris--but a more careful inspection found two more thorns embedded in the tire, waiting to cause me more misfortune. I patched two tubes, but one of the issues with not riding for a while is not replenishing your patch cement supply. The cement I used seemed almost half-way to dry, so my confidence in the repair was low. I put one repaired tube in, inflated it, but an hour later, I wasn't happy with the firmness, so I installed the other repaired tube. It seemed to hold, so I went to bed Monday night, after a three day weekend...and dreamed about deflating tires.

Sure enough, upon waking Tuesday at the god-awful hour I do, I went to the garage to find a deflated front tire. I suppose it says a lot about me that at 4:30am I put a new tube in the tire since I was bent on riding to work. Still, I had no confidence in a brand new tube, but I took off anyway in the pre-dawn dark, convinced that every feeling I had was that of a punctured tire. However, a pinch of the tire at every red light suggested otherwise, and soon I was in the brightening dawn on the coast route.

I thought that maybe Donald Trump was building a sandcastle, but it's another sewer project that'll soon better direct our sewage. That's the "warm water jetty", where the cooling water from the Encinas Power Station used to come out, and it was a great place to body surf because the ocean was like bath water. The only problem was when a set wave would come in at ocean temperature--it would shock the system.

This is where the coast route is really obviously on the coast, and the sounds as one rides by in the otherwise quiet dawn are quite refreshing. Surf crashing and sea birds singing are almost a lullaby. By this time, I was more confident in my tubes and tires, and I focused on pushing south. I focused on appreciation rather than complacency and rolled to Swami's, which is a good place to change lenses on the glasses and to take a picture.

Lenses changed, passing Coaster waved to, and commute resumed, I pedaled into that week beginning Tuesday. And I found 65 cents on the way.

Again, the forecast said rain on Friday. I plowed through my freeway commutes during the week, hoping the Friday forecast would recede, and just like the previous Friday, the forecast pushed the rain back. However, this time, while I was at SIO Friday afternoon, I took a pic from the dive locker which, since I could see Dana Point, let me realize that the rain was pretty far off.

So, like the idiot I am, I took off towards home. My start wasn't early, but the wind was an almost perfect out of the southwest. This is the interesting sky time of year here in North San Diego County, and I kept stopping to snap an interesting pic of the sky. The best I could do was at the San Elijo lagoon.

It took a while to snap that pic, since there was a lot of car traffic at the time. Once I did, I noticed the southbound Coaster going by, and I was calculating. I really didn't want to ride all the way home, but that's not a good place to see the southbound Coaster if you want to catch the northbound at Encinitas. I had a tailwind, and I took off, but to no avail. I was cycling all the way home.

Like a lot of the shit that goes down after an injury, occasionally one is confronted with an obstacle to be overcome. Earlier in the day on Friday, I met with the surgeon who fixed my hand a year ago, and there are lingering issues, but the fact that I can ride a bike the way I can are a testament to his (and my) success. So, pushing on into the night was a total, "what the fuck--I'm happy to be able to do this" sort of thing.

I made it home, and I wasn't overly traumatized by it all, so I can't wait for next week!

Change in Weather/Bikes

I'm just about recovered from riding all the way to work on Monday morning, so that must mean it's almost Friday.

That was written before I passed out last night. Sweet dreams ensued, but morning still brought the realization of the previous night's weather forecast. Rain, starting late, with strong winds out of the south. "Strong winds out of the south" is a very good forecast to me for riding home, but "rain, starting late" could mean anything. I rode the short ride to my Sprinter station, prepared for multiple combinations of return trip variants (all the way home was the preferred variant), looking to the eastern sky whenever I could. I thought of the old Fixx song, "Red Skies", but these were the sailor's warning--red skies in the morning. Are they also a cyclist's warning?

Previously, on Monday--the first of the bookend days--I again rode all the way from home to work. I left a couple of minutes earlier, felt a little better, and had better riding conditions...and still managed to ride slower. It could be because I switched bikes. Instead of the 700c wheeled Heron, I rode the 26" wheeled XO-2.

It's a 1993 Bridgestone XO-2, and, as you can see, it's been highly personalized over the years. That is a cellulose-based composite storage unit mounted on the rear. Lightweight, versatile, and sustainable. This bike has been through a lot, and been ridden to and from a lot of places, but its main use has been to transport me from home to work and back (or at least some portion of that trek). Over the years, it's done a more than adequate job.

It's also my best bike for when the weather turns nasty, and that it did this week. Yep, the spotless, kick-ass, winter weather we'd had since the new year turned, and I had to start thinking about alternatives to cycling. A storm blew in Wednesday, and rained strictly during the commute hours. I was out and about at Scripps Institute of Oceanography and snapped the incoming afternoon storm.

A typical San Diego day looks like this:

I took pride in my maturity because I didn't ride that day, and since it rained during both my morning and evening commute, my pride was reinforced. The storm blew out that evening, and a usual commute ensued on Thursday, and then weather.com was watched constantly. A storm was due to blow in Friday evening, but when? It forecast for noon in the early morning, but as the morning wore on, it was pushed back, back, back, until it was not forecast to rain until 7pm. I started on my campus rounds at 1pm, knowing I could leave when I finished, and the wind was howling out of the south. I was licking my chops! School of Medicine, School of Engineering, then S.I.O., the wind kept up, but odd sprinkles emerged, off and on. I got back to the store, wrapped things up, and at 2:40, headed north.

Things went great. A 15-20mph tailwind wisked me across campus, across the Torrey Pines Mesa, down the Torrey Pines grade, past Torrey Pines beach, to the climb into Del Mar. No problems, a couple of sprinkles in town, but still that tailwind was driving me on. It continued through Solana Beach, and into Encinitas. I was delighted that there were no surfers parked at Cardiff Reef, and thus, no opening doors and no surfboards being moved around in the bike lane like a bad Laurel and Hardy routine. However, there were also no bikini sightings (sigh).

In Encinitas proper, things started to change. The rain became steadier, but I pressed on, thinking that it was maybe a fluke. I plowed on into Leucadia, and past Leucadia Blvd, the coast route floods. While negotiating the pools of standing water in the bike lane, I noticed three 1960's era Volkswagen microbuses passing me. Whose idea was that? One was totally early 60's with the Quarter-sized taillights that were barely visible 50 yards away. At least they were dry inside; I was getting drenched. I passed La Costa Blvd and into Carlsbad, then rode around the construction at the Bataquitos Lagoon, and I made it into the new neighborhoods by the state beach. Still, the rain that wasn't supposed to start until 7pm was pouring on me before 4pm.

I took a break under the Palomar Airport Rd overpass to make sure my phone was okay, then pushed on into Carlsbad proper. Right when I got to Tamarack, I thought: if I'm going to have a puncture, this would be the best place.

I had a puncture.

I limped into the Carlsbad Village Station, because they have bicycle lockers that I can use. I pulled all my stuff out of the cellulose-based composite storage unit, and stuffed my bike in the locker. I walked into the station where I could shelter and change into dry clothes. There is, how shall I say, an on-going gentleman's club that meets there, and the gentlemen have varying control over their faculties. I was offered dry clothes, but I carried a dry wool sweater and that, along with wringing out my wool socks, gave me more than enough sartorial warmth to carry on.

The Coaster would take me to Oceanside, but I'd have to wait a while for the next Sprinter. However, a very late 101 bus showed up, and I got on. In soaking wet cycling gear, holding a helmet with a light attached, I fit right in on that bus! I realized that this bus also wouldn't catch the Sprinter in Oceanside, but then I realized I could get off at Oceanside Blvd and catch the Sprinter there! I watched the bus driver come back during a long traffic light and make sure that a certain veteran was aware of where he was at. His care for this passenger really made me feel good on a stormy, dangerous day. I got off at Oceanside Blvd, and waved at the driver as he went by, then crossed to the Sprinter station. As it worked out, I only waited about a minute for the train.

As usual, the Sprinter sped me across north county with only minimal singing by my fellow passengers. I got to my stop, and pulled the Heron out from the locker where I'd left it on that red sky morning, and rode it home. Getting home after a commute like that feels mighty good, and the beers one has at home taste unbelievably good!

Cutting Through

Accepting the grinding nature of bicycle commuting is yet another stage of my return to it. Friday afternoon gave me a good dose of the grind. The first rides after a protracted absence always seem wonderful, and all the indignities of sharing the road are easily forgotten. However, reality is that cycling is not a perfect commuting solution, but rather it has advantages over others. Being able to overcome those situations where it is not advantageous is the key to success.

The weather was typical San Diego-fine Friday, but checking weather.com told me that I would be facing about a 10mph headwind on the ride up the coast. I've had worse, but I was younger too. I searched for the mental image to guide me (I also searched for the right music to listen to beforehand. Oddly, I chose the Monkees. Say what you will, but "I'm a Believer" will get you over a hill or two. Oh, I listen to the music before I leave. I don't listen when I ride. It interferes with my singing), and it was that one from wood shop class in junior high. The shop teacher always says the same thing when you are sawing a piece of wood--let the saw do the work. That is, as you move the saw back and forth, you don't also need to press down on it. So, as I grind along into the headwind, I think, "let the bike do the work".

I didn't really burst into the ride, and auto traffic was pretty backed up on the coast. It's a little like riding in a tunnel when it's like that, with the added danger that the left-hand wall can suddenly turn into your path! I negotiated my way with only a few minor scares, and once I was through Encinitas I started to feel okay.

In fact, the rest of the ride was quite good, though quite dark, and visions of the two Stone Lukcy Bastartds in my 'fridge were driving me on. Now, a new week dawns, full of indignities and irritations that I'll try my best to see as challenges. If I can collect enough Lukcy Bastartds during the week, it might just end with another happy Friday!

Bookending

Riding home from work is pretty straightforward. You close up shop, get on your bike, and ride home. Riding to work is trickier. I can get home any time I want, but there is a certain time I have to show up at the job, and both calculating when to leave home and deciding what to take are the morning's challenge. Since I had not only not ridden home from work since 2009, but also not ridden to it since then, I had to spend the whole weekend thinking about this. Fortunately, I had a lot of beer and a rather big football game to help out the thought process.

However, a ride to work means being awake to hear the crack of dawn. In fact, you should be drinking your first cup of coffee when it cracks. Fortunately, I was pretty excited by the whole thing, and I'd been training my early-rising mind-set for a while. Getting ready to leave home was an issue--there were complications. A 5:30am departure was delayed until 5:45, but that's still pretty early.

So, this Monday, I set out in the dark towards the coast, and met it and the dawn proper in Carlsbad.

What was left was the relatively flat ride to San Diego which I spent thinking mostly about what gear I should choose to go up the Torrey Pines Grade (I picked the 36x21). Once over that, I could get a better idea of how much commuting I could do, and for the next couple of weeks, I'll be bookending them--ride all the way to work Monday and all the way home Friday.

And since it is now indeed Friday, I'll be riding home tonight. I will be helped by the attractive force provided by the cold beers I have stocked in my `fridge. That should keep the morale up this evening!

All the Way, Baby!

The stars aligned, I got early release, I'd listened to enough Richmond Fontaine, and it was just plain about time.

I left work Friday afternoon and rode my bicycle all the way home.

Yes, instead of careening down the I-5 shoulder to the train station, I braved crossing Revelle, Muir, and Marshall (Third) colleges, then exited the University and braved old highway 101.



Ah, the open road...such as it is. However, a closer inspection revealed this:




Yes, that's right, I was entering Encinitas' photo enforced tsunami danger zone. While I could have stayed there for hours contemplating government bureaucracy gone haywire, I was racing the sun and I was getting hungry and thirsty, so I braved the danger of a tsunami-based citation and pressed on north.

I haven't done this whole ride since, well...one of the reasons I keep this blog is to remind me of when stuff happens...so, sometime in late 2009. Since then I've discovered that:

1. The guys on my former cycling team, Swami's, are a lot faster.

2. Encinitas is now more dangerous than Del Mar.

3. I really no longer give a fuck about how fast I ride.

Nope, not anymore. Too many dreams about cycling when I couldn't have altered my perception of it. As much as I like the atmosphere, companionship, and scenery of the afternoon Coaster train, there's nothing like being able to stop on a whim and take in all that's around you. Especially when it's familiar pleasantries that you've been without for a while.



However, the sun sets on everyone, and it set on me in South Carlsbad. From here, the ride got serious. Carlsbad Village may be a joy during bikini season, but it is otherwise a nightmare of jaywalkers...then there's the State Street/Hwy 101 merge to negotiate. Oceanside is skirted through pretty quick, until the harrowing Crouch St. descent to Oceanside Blvd. If you pick the right line on the potholed descent, you can hit 50mph, but there's always a line of cars wanting to both turn left and right in front of you at the bottom of the hill. At night, it's just that question rattling through my skull, "does *anyone* see me??"

Once on Oceanside Blvd, I felt okay, and as one goes east, the calm increases. When I got to Melrose Station before the 6:22, my competitive side was assuaged a little. From there it was all downhill to the Stater Brothers, where they had food and just enough beer to get me through the evening.

Yeah, I admit, I jumped up and down a few times when I got to my garage and I'd realized that, yes, I did it. I could then eat and drink like I deserved it, and sleep a sound sleep. Today, there were hours spent in the garage with the bikes, and more will be spent tomorrow, because, since I rode home Friday, I have to ride back Monday.

See this space for details...

Freeway Conditions

When my mind drifts, as it often does, it drifts to cycling. Specifically, to being far and afield, and going up a monster climb. Unfortunately, the reality of my current fitness precludes me from realizing my mind's drift. Still, North San Diego County's a pretty hilly place, as is evidenced by the Queen Stage of the 2009 Tour of California, and hills are a way of life for the local cyclist.

So, I do get to go up a climb on my truncated commute, but it's this one:



Yep, the I-5 shoulder. The collection place of the debris spewed from a zillion cars which is given to us cyclists to get from here to there. It is very satisfying, on the verge of smugness, to climb past all the stuck-in-traffic vehicles, particularly if one of them is the shuttle bus I would be riding on if I weren't cycling. However, the climb is relentless, and there's a merge to deal with at the top of the Genesee off-ramp. Then, the route to and across campus still keeps going up and up. If I ride the 30 miles from home, there's about 1000 feet of climbing, but this 3.5 mile ride has 500 feet of it!

Also, you may note that this picture shows the ride to be in shade, and since the climb starts right from the train station with no warm-up, and since being a Southern Californian means I have no tolerance to cold, this is a real challenge (but not really an existential one, thank goodness. If it was, I'd miss a lot of work). Despite the near-Arctic conditions, however, I've been able to endure and even thrive on this. It bodes well for future endeavors, but I still gotta figure out how to take a picture on the downhill side of the day to show you what that looks like. I can assure you that zipping away from work at 40mph in the sunny late afternoon looks a lot better than the above!

Resuming

A six-month break from cycle commuting has ended. A multitude of reasons exist for the break, but let me sum by saying I was not ready to resume cycling as a daily grind, while at the same time the break inspired me to do what it took to resume that "grind".

Prior to resuming my minimal cycle commute, I took the opportunity to walk to my train station from work. The highlight of this walk is a very steep descent from the Pfizer complex to the station itself. In this pic you can kinda get a sense of the steepness (that's a mountain biker walking down in front of me) of the trail and also a birds-eye view of the Sorrento Valley Coaster Station.

However, cycling to the station is much more time efficient, even when including the time to change into silly bike clothes. The route profile reveals the reason for this efficiency.

Of course, the opposite profile greets the morning ride, but isn't that how it should be? A struggle to arrive at work, but a gravity-fueled release when the work day is over?

And when it is, the bike has to be secured for the evening, and I secure it in locker #17 on most evenings (I have a thing for prime numbers). During my hiatus, I got a new electronic locker card since my four-year old one was worn out, and I have more confidence leaving my bikes in these lockers--and being able to retrieve them! These are BIKELINK lockers, which operate differently in the Bay Area than in San Diego, but are superior to the eLockers that they replaced.

As for my bike, well, after years of racing and trying to ride fast, I've left that behind me. Now, I try to ride a bike that inspires youngsters to call me "sir" and wannabes to cross their AT to catch the old guy on the bike with fenders...not that I think about competitive things like that anymore...