Tag Archives: new rider

He Blinded me with Science

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I no longer look at the weather before I head out. I know it’s cold – that’s a given – I won’t be too hot wearing my stretchy pants. Don’t need to carry my shorts for the warm ride home because there isn’t going to be one. It’s going to be windy, likely a crosswind in the morning with a head/crosswind on the ride home. The wind will be okay in the morning and anywhere from annoying to hurricane level in the evening when all I want to do is get home and relax. I know all of this in the back of my mind, yet when confronted with it as I stare into my iOraclephone first thing in the morning, it can be enough to send me out on four wheels. If I’m going to continue to ride this winter, it’s best I don’t know just how bad it’s going to be. Which reminds me, I’m might need snow tires soon.

When I started writing, it was ostensibly because I wanted to pass on my newbie experiences to the next budding Fredcyclist. The idea being I could answer some of those new-rider questions not with any authority, just the results of my own trial and error methods. It’s veered away from that and into a blather of this is what happened on my little commute today and that’s boring. Part of that detour off course is a result of this: I’m at a post-newb plateau.  I’ve learned the easiest stuff…maybe?

I’m not smart or learned by any means. My authority on matters cycling comprises the following nuggets: don’t pedal while leaning hard unless you enjoy pavement-surfing with your flesh; make sure you have air in your tires; ride as often as possible. On the other hand, here’s what I’ve learned:

• Yes, you do want stretchy pants with a chamois if you ride any distance unless you like friction burns on your most sensitive areas.
• “Slicks” or street tires on your mountain bike are definitely smoother and quieter but they were not the limiting factor in my quest for speed. The factor turned out to be me.
• Lube your chain or the squeaking and squawking will make you even more insane.
• Tires don’t hold air indefinitely – my 80psi slicks drop to 40 over a couple of weeks but make for a handy lie excuse reason you can tell yourself when you get Chicked.
• There may not be any car traffic on the bike paths, but a rear light will keep the rest of us from running you over in the dark because we are riding with
• The 3-LED headlight from MEC – makes an excellent targeting device for on-coming cars and may keep other riders from clipping you in the dark. Also serves as an excellent defense against establishing effective night-vision while simultaneously completely failing to illuminate anything far enough away to still avoid. Note to the city of Calgary – if you really loved cyclists, you’d fluoresce the yellow stripe in the middle of the path.
• If you insist on using a 1 million candle power strobe-light on your helmet while riding on the darkened bicycle path, I reserve the right to push you into the canal while claiming disorientation and blindness thanks to your head-mounted smugness device. Save it for the road where it’ll flash in everyone’s mirror after they’ve passed you and are no longer in a position to nudge you with a bumper.
• The colder it gets, the slower I go. I blame the increased air density and layers of clothing. It has nothing to do with laziness.

It was most definitely this increase in clothing layers and air density that turned me from rabbit to rabbit-chaser this morning. As is typical of my rides these days most of the path traffic is on-coming, which is good because my MEC night-vision-disruption light which as the name implies handily keeps my eyes from adjusting on the darkest sections of the path, combined with riding sans prescription glasses means I’m essentially navigating to work by muscle memory and feel. When I was kid with a big-block drum-brake hotrod, I learned all about over-driving your brakes – travelling faster than your brakes could stop you. I’m now over-driving my eyesight as, even at my reduced winter speed, there is little chance I will be able to avoid an unexpected obstacle.

Anyway – back to the engrossing tales of What I did on my commute this morning. I was passed, unexpectedly and totally off-guard by a high-cadence-pedaling rider whom I’ve seen once or twice before. My first instinct was to ignore the obvious Cat 6 race we were now in and continue as I was but as Dwernie noted last week it is not possible to simply ignore this challenge. I gave chase and didn’t lose any further ground until we got to the pedestrian bridge. I managed to maintain some semblance of speed but failed to stand and hammer when he did (note to self – stand and hammer is appropriate when in Cat 6 mode). By the time I’d reached the end of the bridge, he’d almost disappeared and our diverging routes put an end to the match. I was however given a small reward as I wound under 17th Ave and tried to run over a flagging rider making the climb up to 26th. I allowed myself a small degree of pride as I pedaled past him and he got off to start pushing. “At least I’m not pushing” I thought as I wobbled up the slope.

In recognition of the Cyclist’s Imperative to Chase Rabbits, I wish to congratulate Dwernie on his first blood. A successful pass and defense of position – job well done!  Way to represent Canadian Cat 6 riders abroad.

Dwernie

Conehead

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As noted previously, I tend to ride alone.  Not like my daily rides are anything to share anyway – a short commute to work and home again along some fairly innocuous bike paths.  The stuff of legend I know.  One result of riding alone all the time is developing your own habits that may not be compatible with those I will respectfully refer to as my fellow commuters.  I say respectfully as I’ve been dropped hard by more than one of them in the past and I’m sure I will again.

Yesterday as I approached Edmonton Trail, preparing mentally for the climb up to Centre, there was a rider already stopped at the light.  Things, for me, got strange immediately as his stopped position was too far away from the intersection though he was clearly intending to cross it.  I do it one of two ways – in heavy traffic I wait at the crosswalk as it puts me ahead of most of the traffic so I have a clearer view of the intersection and nobody is trying to run me down making their right turn.  Or – if traffic is lighter I’ll ride up to the front of the empty right lane, but on the inside of it.  This rider was back a few feet from anywhere I’d normally stop, so without really thinking about it, I passed him and stopped in front.  I realized too late how it must look and it was admittedly rude but I don’t run into other riders at this light when it’s red.  Ever.  I didn’t really know how to approach it.  I commented on the wind and as the light went green he continued to chat about the state of the bike path.  This is all together new to me – stranger / cyclist chatting.  This too presents a conflict with my established habits.

As a new rider, a new, aging rider watching “the big four-oh” coming at him full speed, a new, aging, 40-ish rider with asthma and a not-that-long-ago tobacco habit, any departure from level ground to a positive angle – meaning uphill – is noted immediately and tends to be a challenge.  My normal course of action had until recently been to simply stand up and mash away while trying not to slow too badly.  As an experiment I’ve been staying in the saddle and dropping into the middle ring (the bottom of the middle ring if I’m honest) and pedaling furiously and while the results have been not all together bad, there are times when standing just seems to be the right thing to do.  Like this section of my ride.

So here we are stranger-chatting as we approach the first bit of incline, him on my right and me wondering if I’m capable of making this little hump while I’m still in the saddle without getting run over by the cyclist that suddenly appeared behind us.  I’m not sure if I earned it with all this headwind riding or if he opted to play nice but by the time we’d made it to the first false flat, he’d stopped chatting and slowly dropped behind.  Before we made it to the next intersection, he was far enough behind me that my habits were no longer his concern.  I rolled through the stop sign and continued to pedal up the gentle slope past the Handi-bus barn to 1st street.  He gained ground behind me and I figured here was where he was going to drop me.  Heading south onto 1st, it turns into a short, steep climb of perhaps 10 meters over 70.  Having ridden the previous 25 minutes home in a headwind, it was nice to have the wind at my back but I was a bit knackered so I stood up and mashed away pushing myself up the hill without so much as a Fred-mirror glance.  Again I was conscious of how it might have looked – me trying to drop my new chatting friend but I didn’t stop.

The truth is though, I wasn’t looking for him, no longer paying him any attention and I hadn’t noticed the 3rd rider since we hit the first slope.  I don’t know if he followed me south on his own route or headed north instead.  I was tired, near the end of my ride and wanted to finish it my way.  I rounded the bend onto 34th and made the climb up to Centre with everything I had and found Centre empty, so I crossed it and went home a sweaty, mushy, happy rider.

9 times or more out of 10, I ride my commute like a man possessed, pushing my mental limits, pushing my legs and lungs.  I like to ride like that, I enjoy that suffering, pushing the boundaries for more growth.

While I am absolutely helpless against chasing down a rabbit, or trying to run away as one myself, it’s  only me I’m competing against.  If I manage to chase down a rabbit, I’ve earned that pass.  I know I’ve been travelling faster for however long it’s taken me to catch them and I can continue that pace (probably).  Passing the rabbit is not a conehead move.  Likewise, being passed while I’m riding hard means they earned it – nothing coneheaded about that.  Pulling in front of another rider at a stoplight and then racing away on the green – it might look like I’m trying to drop them but –honest – they’ve just wandered onto my private track.

Exuberance

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Have you ever had one of those rides where everything just clicks together? The wind (for a change) is at your back, the sun is shining and the bike just wants to gooooo. That was my ride home. Rabbitless as it was, I arrived home feeling jacked instead of beat, a giant grin plastered across my face. Suffering? Not today friends, not at all.

It wasn’t an ideal ride – a pair of dawdling, wandering commuters on the path in front of me clogging the descent off the Memorial pedestrian bridge meant I couldn’t race down the ramp and cut the corner while carrying all kinds of speed. I slowed, I waited, he wandered around the ramp some more, on-coming traffic preventing me from passing him. The instant he was to the left, I mashed the pedals the remaining ramp distance, through the grass and up-n-over the corner-cutting hump, pedaling the entire way. I came out ahead of him but barked out an “on your right!” warning out of some smidgen of path etiquette. He quickly disappeared from the tiny view provided by my Fred mirror.

With no bait to chase and not being the rabbit myself I started to imagine scenarios to keep me spinning away. Thomas is behind me, sure to catch me but no way I’m handing it to him. My Purple Rabbit is just around the next bend. Thomas is in front of me taking it easy and I can catch him if I stay on it. Then the real inspiration came: Lungs? Check; Legs? Check; Brain? Brain? Brain? Err…oh – Check! The ride had been exceptional already – spinning away, almost at the top of the big ring, cadence up, form up, speed up. I was having a great ride and it was a self-reinforcing circle of effort and reward.

The last handful of cars on a southbound train were yet to clear the crossing when I got there, one rider ahead of me waiting patiently. I debated the options: up the switchbacks to 16th, down the sidewalk over the train and back down the trail to the path; up the switchbacks to 16th and onto the side-streets taking me home. While I enjoy the climb up to 16th, it is my least favourite route home. I end up crossing Centre with its four lanes of angry-must-get-home-nowNowNOW drivers in an area that never seems to get a break in traffic. I made the mistake of trying to ride with traffic up Centre one afternoon commute. Not a good idea in the grand scheme of self-preservation. Drivers are all nuts. And angry.

By the time I’d made up my mind to climb up and over, the last car was passing and the arms were lifting. What? Yes, yes it did take that long to ponder it. I was too busy grinning like an idiot to think much beyond “wow – what a great ride – I feel awesome – squirrel!”. I followed the rider ahead of me and waited until it was clear that passing her wouldn’t result in my looking like a chauvinist loser when she passed me back and dropped me 6 seconds later. As I passed I repeated a comment from a rider who’d passed me in exactly the same spot a couple of weeks earlier “nice day for a ride ‘eh” but she didn’t hear, white iPhone buds protruding from her ears. I stayed in my saddle for the grind climb, dropping into the middle ring and pedaling like a man possessed. She disappeared behind me (hey – I just dropped someone on a hill…how cool is that?) not to be seen again.

I kept the heat on as I headed west along 32nd towards the bus barns and the substation path. With the substation path reno completed, it adds an extra little bit to the commute each day and I figure an extra kilometre per day certainly wouldn’t hurt. The other option is to head down the grass curb between 32nd east-bound and the barrier keeping cars and buses off the bike path below. This has been my traditional route for the summer thanks to the path reno. It’s not particularly wide, less than three feet and it’s not flat, sloping into the road. This is not an area to be distracted, particularly as the traffic to your very immediate right is travelling head-on at 70km/h just looking for an excuse to crush a soft cyclist skull.

The path is safer and has some easy bonus-distance, the shortcut has little room for error with what you’d call high exposure on the right and requires complete attention. Seems like an easy choice, so I picked the shortcut. Know why? Of course you don’t. The path transition from along 32nd to the substation area has a very tight right-left with a blind approach – you can’t see anyone coming up the other side or lollygagging in front of you. You have to slow down. I was haulin’ and had no desire to slow down so I bailed out at the last possible moment and headed for the shortcut. I once followed a newer-than-I (or at least more-chicken-than-I) rider along the shortcut – he was horribly uncomfortable and barely moving, the woman on the road bike behind us none too pleased about being slowed down. I sailed through never risking a glance at the traffic – don’t look down. I skimmed through the shortcut, around the corner and waited for the light, the remaining distance to be on the road.

This last stretch is a double-edged sword. The downhill slope along 36th street to Edmonton Trail lets me build up a good head of steam and I can usually hit 45 km/h on the approach, but never, ever have I hit a green light which wastes all that momentum. Once you’ve crossed Edmonton Trail it’s a series of up-flat-up-false flat-up-up…you get the idea. Of course it’s located close to home – great in the morning, daunting in the evening. It’s a real trick to get excited about it…I haven’t figured that trick out yet. There used to be a Dogo and Pitbull near the top of the climb – they’d come running up to the fence barking at me as I went by – my own little cheering squad getting me up that last lip – I rather miss them, though if their owner is anything like my dog’s owner, they’ve been pulled inside for barking at passing cyclists too often.

I managed a very respectable climb home if I do say so, missing a new best by 2 seconds which I’ll blame on the headwind on my brief southbound leg. Stabbing the end ride button on Strava, I couldn’t help but notice the total time – 30:08. Checking my “moving time” which generally, though not always, ignores things like stopping for trains and lights and old men in wheelchairs, I was 29 minutes flat, setting a new 3rd fastest commute time (for me – not everyone responds to commuting the same, your results may differ, there are side-effects, check with your inner-child to see if cycling is right for you).

PS My top 3 commute times are all from September rides. Perhaps there’s a benefit to spending most of your riding with a headwind afterall.