Bunny Goes "Bang!"

On numerous occasions, I’ve heard the saying, “There are two kinds of cyclists in this world: those who have crashed and those who will.” Since I started riding a road bike just over a year ago, I’ve prided myself in belonging to the second group. I chalked it up to riding defensively, quick reaction time, and moderate bike handling skills.

This isn’t to say I’ve never crashed a bike. When I was nine, I had an accident on an old 1973 Schwinn Varsity that would make Jens Voigt cringe and I have crashed my mountain bike out of pure stupidity. However, up until this morning, I’d never crashed my shiny new Trek.

Yes, that’s right… today I switched teams.

I’m not 100% sure how it all happened, but I was turning around on the bike trail and somehow lost my balance. There was no pedaling involved, I wasn’t hammering down, or even going at a high speed. Before I knew it, I fell to the right and was unable to clip out in time to put my foot down. It might have been the impact on the ground, again, I’m not certain, but when I picked myself up off the ground, I looked down and saw this:

Now, I’m clearly not a professional, or really all that experienced, but I’m pretty sure the cleat isn’t supposed to break off like that.

I rode the 8 km back to my car without being able to clip in and drove promptly to the LBS where they confirmed that the cleat shouldn’t snap off. They then told me that my cleats and shoes show more than the average wear and tear considering they have less than 1,000 km of use. Oh, and speaking of which, my shiny “new” Sidis are slightly damaged from the crash, with a small tear on the back of one of the shoes. Apparently, I’m destined to go through cleats and shoes at only a slightly slower pace than the rate at which I go through gloves.

As for the rest of me, I’m pretty sure I’m okay. There is only minor pain in my right thumb and my knee has a very small spot of “road rash” (a term I’m using lightly here) and a swollen bump. A few hours after the accident, I did start to experience some pain similar to that of having whiplash after a car accident, for which I promptly took a painkiller. Overall, I’m fine.

Tomorrow may be a different story.

Cows and More Cows

Lately, I’ve been feeling a bit desperate for a new route to ride. The options are quite limited here if I expect to have decent pavement and a safe road. I’m not normally one to drive to a new location to ride, but since my summer break is coming to an end, I seized the day and drove out to Knight’s Ferry.

Mistake 1: I wasn’t feeling well that morning. It was a little breezy and my asthma was acting up. While Orange Blossom road doesn’t offer any real climbs, there are rolling hills and any type of hill can cause an issue when you can’t breathe and you left your inhaler at home.

Mistake 2: I could have parked on the Oakdale side of Orange Blossom and ridden the other direction into Knight’s Ferry, shaving off driving time and therefore reducing my irritation level by the time I arrived.

While the ride was more or less a bust, I’m looking at it as yet another learning experience. I’ll be back when I have improved my riding abilities and I’m feeling better.

Mooooo!

On my return from Knight’s Ferry, I took East River Road back into Modesto from Oakdale. This turned out to be a brilliant idea. Not because anything spectacular happened, but I realized that this road is perfect for riding. There are few cars on the road, most of it is wide with bike lanes, and cyclists frequent the route. Yes, I ride it all of the time. I just don’t usually ride this section of the road. That is, until last weekend.

It was a typically beautiful Saturday morning and I hit the road early to beat the heat. I didn’t really have any idea how far I would ride, but that’s the brilliance of an out and back ride. I ride until I’m tired, but not so tired I can’t continue, and then turn around. Before I knew it, I was in Oakdale, 25 km from home. After a brief stop for a snack (and to talk to cows), I turned around and headed home.

Looking out over the Stanislaus River

This guy came over and sniffed my saddle when I leaned my bike against the fence

Weee!

I saw many other cyclists out (only one other woman this time), most of which were friendly enough to wave. Once I was back into the city, a rider pulled up next to me at a stop light and we actually had a conversation about our rides for the day as we rode the next kilometer or so. That’s the kind of behavior that fosters a community of like-minded people. It’s funny how the little things can make or break your day.

In completely unrelated ride news... look what photo was in the Bend Bulletin a couple of weeks ago!
Cyclist is a Cascade veteran

Tour of California Week, Part I

Like many other cycling fans, I’ve waited well over a year for the Tour of California to roll around again. The waiting was brutal. Now that it’s here, like any other fun event in a person’s life, it is passing us by much too quickly.

My experience this year with the race has been one of great anticipation and excitement. Although it all started weeks ago, the most memorable moments began when I decided to head up to the parental unit’s home outside of Sacramento to visit before catching the finish of stage 1 in Sacramento. I hauled Zippy along with me and we hit the American River Bike Trail (ARBT) for a relaxing afternoon spin.

When I ride in the city in which I currently reside (more or less against my will), I seldom see cyclists out. Even on really nice days, I can ride 40 km and not see a single rider. On the rare occasion that I do see someone else out on his or her trusty steed, I find that I get incredibly (well, stupidly) excited. However, when I ride the ARBT, the path is absolutely teeming with cyclists (and squirrels). Oddly enough, I think that even though I ride solo, seeing others out on the road/trail inspires me. It makes me a better rider. I have more endurance, drive, passion… I even smile when I ride, but nothing really prepared me for that day’s experience.

I’ve been having a tough time with my riding. Illnesses, poor weather conditions, and a busy work schedule have cut my riding time drastically. Optimism wasn’t part of my emotional range that day when I headed out. Thinking that perhaps I would get in about 15 km, I hit the trail at what wasn’t exactly a leisurely effort for me.

Soon I found out that I felt great, mind and body, despite putting in extra effort. The other riders out on the path, the beautiful weather, and the excitement of the Tour energized me. I could feel it in the air. About a third of the way into my ride, I looked down to check my computer. When I looked back up, I got an eyeful of argyle in time trial position coming at me from the opposite direction.

Yep, a Garmin-Transitions rider. More excitement to feed off… *pedal pedal*

At 20 km, I decided to turn around and head back as not to worry the parental unit. I stopped briefly and heard a noise in the brush on the side of the trail. Turning to look, I saw two deer grazing in the grass. While preparing to snap a shot with my phone, I was distracted once again by Mr. Argyle Armada heading back in the opposite direction. He had picked up a bit of an entourage at this point.

Yep, once again an exciting day, but I’m not sure it could compare to what was coming.

Oh, and I never did get a picture of those deer.

(And yes, as the title suggests, there are more parts to this story...)

Riding the Karma Train

I suppose you could say that the last couple of weeks have been busy at work. Weekends, not so busy out of necessity, but busy because it’s the start of the local racing season, which has meant that I’ve gone to three races over the last two weekends.

There isn’t a whole lot to tell about the races aside from the fact that those pro women are tough, especially Ina-Yoko Teutenberg (Ger) from HTC-Columbia. They’re tough in a way that when a powerful crash takes down 10+ riders in the middle of the peloton, many of them take it just as the men would – they jump right back on the bike and continue. I have some newfound respect for them.

On my way to the race this morning, I was driving along a route that I frequent on my bike. Ahead of me was a group of three cyclists at the side of the road seemingly having some sort of difficulty with a bike. I wondered if they needed any help and recalled a time that I was in almost the same spot when I had a “technical” problem out in the middle of nowhere. Several cars passed me and not one person bothered to slow down, let alone ask if I needed help even though I was alone.

Having been raised to believe that I should help others when I can, I decided to stop to see if they were okay or if they needed any help. They seemed pleasantly surprised that I’d asked. They said they had everything under control (seat adjustment), thanked me, and I went on my way knowing that I just scored some points in the good karma race.

Maybe the next time I’m stranded on the side of the road, someone will be kind enough to ask me if I need help.

When "The Buddy System" Fails

I was in third grade the first time I went to a movie with a friend and no adult supervision. I remember two things about that day. The first being that we saw Annie. The second thing being that our mothers lectured us on sticking together and that meant if one of us had to use the bathroom during the movie then we both went.

We’re all familiar with “The Buddy System” since we’ve had it hammered into our heads since we were young. I’m pleased to announce that while I don’t need a friend, no matter how close of a friend, to accompany me to the bathroom anymore, I do find myself in situations where “The Buddy System” is recommended if not essential. Yes, twenty something years after my very first memory of using “The Buddy System” I’m still using it in ways.

However, what do we do when we don’t have a buddy to accompany us on a ride (or run, walk, hike, whatever activity floats your boat)? As a single woman living in a somewhat ghetto-ish city, I’ve given this a lot of thought. Safety is my number one priority when I’m out on a ride and because I have no friends who are roadies I ride solo 99% of the time. In fact, the only time I’m not alone is if I’m participating in a charity ride or if I’m mountain biking.

The obvious solution to said dilemma would be to join a club. However, as a person who is painfully shy this isn’t something I feel is an option. I’m also a little embarrassed about my sometimes questionable bike handling skills and my probable inability to maintain the same pace as a group of more seasoned riders.

That being said, I’ve come up with some tips/strategies that give me some peace of mind when out on the road.  These are things that for some reason didn't occur to me when I first started riding again last winter and if even one person can benefit, then this post is worth it.  They are above and beyond the obvious like knowing traffic laws, wearing a helmet, carrying water, and keeping your bike well maintained.

1. Carry a cell phone with phone numbers of friends who have already said they’d be willing to pick you up if you find yourself in the unfortunate situation of being stranded. Nothing ruins a good ride like having to walk 15 miles (or 24.14 km for the #LCC or those who otherwise use metric) home. Bonus if it’s a camera phone because then you can take pictures of interesting things you may see on your ride, just don’t do this when riding.

2. Know your bike and how to make basic repairs and adjustments such as fixing a dropped chain or a flat. Carry the necessary tools to do this such as spare tubes, patch kit, pump, levers, etc. Carry an allen wrench set for saddle or pedal adjustments even though you shouldn’t need it if your bike is properly fit in the first place, but I’m a fiddler. Last, but not least, I also carry pair of latex gloves because I hate getting chain grease on my fingers then on the bar tape or inside my riding gloves and ruining a good manicure. Again, nothing ruins a good ride like having to hoof it home or back to the car.

3. Don’t just carry identification – wear it. Many companies out there make medical identification bracelets, tags, etc. I wear a RoadID. The idea is that your bike, helmet, clothing, etc. might not make it to the emergency room, but an ID on your body will (and if your limbs aren’t making it to the ER, then not having and ID on you is the least of your worries). And hey, if it’s good enough for Levi Leipheimer, it’s good enough for me (see his right wrist... he's been seen "wearing it" because it's who he is).

Paul Mach and Levi Leipheimer at the Nevada City Classic in June 2009

4. Carry a small coin purse type thing with the following items: Driver’s license, or other photo ID for when you get pulled over for violating traffic laws that you studied but have chosen to ignore; Cash in case you find the need to stop at Starbucks, refuel at Chipotle, or visit your LBS for repairs; ATM card in case your find yourself in need of a larger sum of money (see previous comment re: stopping at LBS); and Health insurance card even though the information is on an ID worn on your body. I also keep my house key in this and it goes into my jersey pocket, not my bike’s saddlebag in case I get jumped by one of the ghetto-folk who keeps asking me what my bike cost and they steal my ride.

5. Know your limits. When planning a loop route, make sure you know you can do the distance and any climbing involved. If you’re doing an out and back, it’s much easier to turn around when you feel like you’re getting tired, but on a loop sometimes there is no way to take a shortcut.

6. Know the roads. Unless I’m cutting through a neighborhood on a whim, I stick to routes I know. If you’re considering a new route, take the time to drive it first. Are there bike lanes and if not, for how long? What is the condition of the pavement? Is there a lot of traffic, light traffic, or none at all? Take note of construction zones, speed limits, and the kind of vehicular traffic. Are there places to stop for water? Will you be in cell phone range? Could you give a friend directions to the location if you were to find yourself stranded? If it doesn’t look safe, you may want to find someplace else to ride.

No bike lane, little traffic, far from civilation, 13 miles from home... ironically, I dropped my chain about 50 yards ahead.

My basic point is that if you take measures to make yourself feel safer, you're more likely to get out and ride.  And as the great Eddy Merckx said, "Ride as much or as little, as long or as short as you feel.  But ride."

I should note that while I also ride a mountain bike I never go mountain biking alone. I prefer to keep to roads where there is some sort of traffic (“witnesses”) in case of an emergency ("eating asphault").

Now… where did I put that RoadID?