Tag Archives: purple rabbit

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.

Skunked!

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I rode to work in a stiff 20km/h headwind this morning.  I blame Adam for this.  After poking my head outside, I sent Adam a text – “20km/h headwind,  did you ride?”  “Hell yes! Cold though” came the quick response.  I sighed and pulled on my stretchy pants, muttering under my breath.  I was going to ride either way I suspect – had Adam not ridden, I would have ridden in and rightfully gloated all day.  In the garage I gazed from the elk-skin leather motorcycle gauntlets to the rubber-palmed mechanic’s gloves weighing the merits of each.  I opted to try the mechanics gloves but with a twist – I put them on the wrong hands so the rubber-coated side faced out with the idea that at least they’d be wind-proof.  They may have been, however their ability to transfer heat from my hands to the wind passing over them was in no way diminished.  It was absolutely freezing and I’m not sure my thumbs have yet forgiven me.  I’m going to need to find a set of gloves for the morning.  And knee warmers.  All this cloudy, windy weather is doing nothing for my calf-tanning either.

In direct view from the hallways outside my office are three flags from the neighbour’s site.  Most days I try to avoid looking at them as I don’t want to see them whipping away to the south, indicating the painful ride that awaits me.  Today I couldn’t help as they were buffeted angrily about in a myriad of directions.  It wasn’t until early afternoon that it seemed to settle in exactly as it had been in the morning – which meant a gusting 25-30km/h tailwind for the ride home.  Finally – payback for the constant headwinds.

This combined with the omnipresent desire to go faster, especially if someone is front of me created the conditions for a fantastic ride home.  I sprinted away from the first stop light and continued to mash and hammer away for the better part of the ride.  Breaks in traffic appeared when I needed them and the path was all but deserted.  Not a single rabbit to be had but plenty of inspiration in the suffering.  I made it to the train crossing in what felt like record time, spinning through the gates and across the little bridge.  It’s maybe 50 meters due east until you start heading north again but the east component of the southeast wind was kicking up something fierce and I ran into a wall, suddenly grinding away in the middle of my middle ring.  I finally wheeled back north and began the mental prep for the grind up to the pedestrian bridge.  Get some speed going, keep it up until it’s almost time to shift down, then shift up a gear or two , stand up and pedal.

Once again, eyes on my front tire, mentally climbing a ladder and trying to stay on my side of the path.  The Quitter thundering through my head – “hey, you’ve ridden your heart out up to here, why not relax?  Man, there’s nobody fool enough to be out here anyway”.  We battled back and forth and for a Quitter he’s persistent.  I took a quick glance and was almost to the end – “come on, look how hard you’ve worked and you’re this far, just pack it in and sit down”.  Then, salvation in a shadow.

He didn’t announce himself but suddenly there was a shadow and then a wheel and then he was riding by me.  A mixture of feelings and a jumble of thoughts crashed through.  “Hey – another soul!  Wait, he’s passing me!  He’s working hard for it…but he’s still seated.  He’s got to be 20 years older than me…yeesh.  That bike is sure familiar.”  And then it dawned on me.  Dark metallic grey, matching fenders, but there were no panniers and no purple jacket.  My purple rabbit was in disguise!

I was ever so briefly in his draft before he pedaled away, working for every meter.  I pushed my way to the top and vowed to catch him.  A quick sprint to get some speed up, sit down and drop a gear to get the cadence up and mash away until it’s time to grab another gear, then top gear.  Despite this my rabbit hadn’t just dropped me.  Hadn’t just gapped me – he’d all but vanished.  As I finally hit 32nd and started heading west, he was crossing the golf course entrance and riding along the last stretch before disappearing down to the substation.

I continued my furious mashing, jumping the curb and hitting the last section of path as he disappeared down the hill.  I debated the route – follow him around the substation in the knowledge that short of his heart-attack I wasn’t going to catch him or, cheat and cut along the guard rail bordering 32nd catching him at the crosswalk detour still in effect.  “What hollow victory that would be” I thought and I chased him down the hill almost bailing into brush in the process.  I saw him slowing at the detour and thought I might be able to catch up with him if he’s held up by traffic but alas, not today.  My purple rabbit had passed me, dropped me and gapped me.  Skunked by a rabbit.

Arriving home I fumbled out the iPhone and stopped Strava’s ride timer.  It still felt fast but I shoved it back into my pocket while it churned away plotting and saving and uploading and doing whatever else it does while I let myself into the yard and put my bike away.  I’ve not had a chance to look at the results yet so let’s shall we?

  • Average Speed- 27.3 km/h
  • Peak Speed:- 59.6km/h
  • Door-to-door- 28:36

Yes!  Has me wondering though – if I’m prepared to put that much charge into chasing down a guy clearly my senior, what am I going to do when I get chicked?