tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76498882145280612722024-02-06T21:09:20.188-08:00The Wheels are Turning, Turning, TurningKathy Behrenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10243629070261916327noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649888214528061272.post-39814437281920956022015-04-21T08:29:00.002-07:002015-04-21T08:29:53.721-07:00<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b>PACKING THE TANDEM (A Melodrama in Four Acts)<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b>Cast of Characters:<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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Roger – <i>a savvy cycle
technician in late middle age, afflicted with ADHD.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Kathy – <i>his nervous
but ultimately supportive wife, in her mid-fifties and occasionally prone to
bouts of OCD.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>Setting: <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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A patio in Southern California<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Props: <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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* 3 mm Allen wrench<o:p></o:p></div>
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* 4 mm Allen wrench<o:p></o:p></div>
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* 5 mm Allen wrench<o:p></o:p></div>
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8 mm Allen wrench<o:p></o:p></div>
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Rubber mallet<o:p></o:p></div>
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* CCP-4 Crank
extractor (to be tightened with a crescent wrench)<o:p></o:p></div>
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* Needle nose pliers<o:p></o:p></div>
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8 inch adjustable crescent wrench<o:p></o:p></div>
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8 mm open end wrench<o:p></o:p></div>
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Bike tool<o:p></o:p></div>
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10 mm box wrench<o:p></o:p></div>
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* Cable clipper<o:p></o:p></div>
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Spare derailleur cable<o:p></o:p></div>
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Spare brake cable<o:p></o:p></div>
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Spare skewer<o:p></o:p></div>
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* Drop cloth<o:p></o:p></div>
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* Rags<o:p></o:p></div>
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Chain oil and
grease? (for bolts and couplings)<o:p></o:p></div>
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Plastic ties <o:p></o:p></div>
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Plastic tape<o:p></o:p></div>
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Tennis balls<o:p></o:p></div>
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Ziploc bags (one
for the linking chain; one for other small parts)<o:p></o:p></div>
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The special
coupling tool<o:p></o:p></div>
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(Starred items to be left with packing materials when the
trip begins)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>ACT I, SCENE 1: In which all the extra bits are removed from
the frame <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<i>The scene opens with Kathy
spreading a drop cloth under the bike stand.
Roger impatiently begins to disassemble the bike while Kathy collects
all the tiny screws, washers and other findings as Roger removes them from the
bike.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>The two bicker
good-naturedly throughout the scene.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Roger starts the act by placing the bike into a stand using
the front seat post, and cleaning the chains.
He then goes through the following actions, Kathy assisting as noted:<o:p></o:p></div>
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1. Remove pedals
(Kathy captures the washers).<o:p></o:p></div>
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2. Remove the racks.<o:p></o:p></div>
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3. Remove the water bottle cages and give to Kathy for wrapping.<o:p></o:p></div>
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4. Unhook and remove the tool kit.<o:p></o:p></div>
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5. Remove wheels. (Kathy removes the skewers, places plastic
end pieces into wheels and sets them aside.
Skewers go with the other little bits.)
Use rubber mallet to position axle replacements in the drop-outs.<o:p></o:p></div>
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6. Remove the linking chain and place in Ziploc
bag. Remove the cranks. Use the crescent wrench to tighten the crank
extractor. Give to Kathy to wrap in
bubble wrap.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>ACT I, SCENE 2: In
which the cables and derailleur are removed</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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Roger:<o:p></o:p></div>
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1. Unscrew the rear brake cable (running under
the top tube) by using the 8 mm wrench and crescent wrench in opposition. Remove from guides. Coil cable loosely and secure with tie or
tape. Take care not to kink the cables.<o:p></o:p></div>
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2. Remove the speed sensor from front fork. (Kathy wraps and places with other small
parts.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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3. Unscrew the two derailleur cables beneath the
bottom tube. Remove from guides. Coil each loosely and secure with tape or
ties. Note: The right cable controls the rear derailleur
(for the cluster) and the left controls the front derailleur.<o:p></o:p></div>
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4. Remove the derailleur using the 5 mm Allen
wrench (hold it up while unscrewing it) and then wrap it in bubble wrap. Position the derailleur in the open space
between the chain stays and secure with tape.<o:p></o:p></div>
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5. Wrap the chain stay with the appropriate
pieces of black wrap. <o:p></o:p></div>
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6. Remove the cable adjusters from the frame and
pad them with wrap. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>The act ends with
pieces of the bike scattered about the room, but all smallish pieces securely
captured by Kathy. Roger and Kathy exit
stage right. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<b>ACT II: In which the balance of the bike is
disassembled<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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Roger and Kathy return to work after a short break to have lunch. Roger begins the final breakdown:<o:p></o:p></div>
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1. Remove cap from
headset and hand to Kathy.<o:p></o:p></div>
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2. Remove
handlebars. Remove three spacers in
stem and hand to Kathy.<o:p></o:p></div>
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3. Use rubber mallet to remove the steerer out
of the headset (to remove the fork). Roger
swears, “THIS IS DAMN HARD!” Kathy
offers encouragement and wraps the headset with bubble wrap to protect it once
it’s off the bike.<o:p></o:p></div>
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4. Replace spacers on fork steerer. <o:p></o:p></div>
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5. Replace stem cap on stem.<o:p></o:p></div>
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6. Remove rear seat. <o:p></o:p></div>
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7. Release the couplers. Carefully separate the three sections of the
bike frame. Place the tennis balls over
the threaded ends of the open tubes. <o:p></o:p></div>
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8. Release the last portion of the frame from
the bike stand.<o:p></o:p></div>
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9. Remove front seat post. Confirm position mark for rear
handlebars. Remove rear handlebars from
seat post. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>The action continues
uninterrupted with Act III. Kathy starts
by opening the bike boxes and removing all the remaining packing materials,
sorting them by type.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<b>ACT III:
In which all the pieces get wrapped for protection<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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Kathy and Roger:<o:p></o:p></div>
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1. Tuck the rear brake cable into the down tube
and tape securely to avoid kinking the cable. <o:p></o:p></div>
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2. Place the appropriate piece of black shield
cloth on each portion of the frame, and secure with the velcro closing, tape or
ties. <o:p></o:p></div>
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3. Let the air out of the tires.<o:p></o:p></div>
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4. Assemble other gear that will be packed with
the bike: helmets and panniers.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Kathy and Roger argue
briefly about the placement of the foam rubber mats, and agree to try using
them between each layer of the bike. The
act ends with both parties in good spirits as they exit stage right for intermission.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<b>ACT IV:
In which the bike’s parts are packed into the boxes<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<i>Roger and Kathy return
to the stage with sodas in hand, following a short break. Kathy is also carrying a set of instructions
and photographs showing the position of the bike pieces in the boxes during a
prior packing exercise.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Roger and Kathy fill the first box with the bike pieces in
the following order, using the photos as a guide to placement:<o:p></o:p></div>
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1. Bicycle middle section<o:p></o:p></div>
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2. Front section, with fork and handlebars<o:p></o:p></div>
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3. Rear section of bike<o:p></o:p></div>
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4. Kathy’s seat<o:p></o:p></div>
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5. Roger’s seat<o:p></o:p></div>
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6. Kathy’s handlebars<o:p></o:p></div>
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The second box
is filled with the wheels, helmets and other accessories:<o:p></o:p></div>
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1. Position the front tire in the box.<o:p></o:p></div>
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2. Add padding and other items.<o:p></o:p></div>
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3. Position rear tire with cassette facing down.<o:p></o:p></div>
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4. Wrap tools and place in box, taping to the
lid to secure them.<o:p></o:p></div>
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5. Fold drop cloth and place in box with rags
and other props.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Kathy and Roger add additional padding to the top of each
box and test them for closure, using ties, tape or additional padding or bubble
wrap where necessary to secure the parts.
<o:p></o:p></div>
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Kathy tapes packets of small parts to the roof of the
boxes. Just before closing the boxes,
she places re-assembly instructions and photos in the box and writes their name
and address on the roof of each box in black marker.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Kathy and Roger exit
stage left to the hot tub to relax and enjoy a well-deserved beer!<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>THE END<o:p></o:p></i></div>
Kathy Behrenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10243629070261916327noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649888214528061272.post-38993520196703240552015-04-19T22:20:00.001-07:002015-04-19T22:20:13.017-07:00Arivaca 400We selected another desert ride for our 400. This one was in Arizona, from Casa Grande (between Phoenix and Tucson) to Arivaca and back. Basically, another ride from nowhere, to nowhere, through nowhere. Interestingly, I found the 400 K brevet easier than the 300. That just might have something to do with the brevets we selected, but in any case, we had another good day riding, we made it through the night okay, and we met our time mark with hours to spare.<br />
<br />
We drove a mile to the Walmart parking lot where the ride was to begin, and met our fellow travelers. Once again, a spot where we were supposed to make a control stop was declared defunct! This was somewhere around 103 miles, and since there were not many other places to get food, the organizer had decided that he would get sandwiches for us and meet us somewhere there along the road. I thought this sort of support was not valid for the qualifying brevets, but he said if the support is for ALL riders, not just a given one, and provided without exception to everyone, then it was okay. Particularly so, I guess, if there is nothing else to eat or drink for miles!<br />
<br />
Our first stretch was in the dark again. The sun rose as we went alongside the highway (although blessedly not ON the highway but some sort of service road nearby.) The landscape was beautiful. Good thing I saw it this morning, because on the return trip, it would be dark!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHVB-lAXC0DsFukLO7fPTVMN8bTpYCDyQZv9lHozWfYO83dCYr8bcrLX0D4buEK2ToDlWCJbO45LF0pHUBfZyTBKTjLO05N81uCY-HlM5WvWNXxKu5Q2T1noXZUy18ncWooa8K7c74Mz8/s1600/20150321_063553.jpg" height="225" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading east to the sun</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7BYdReF6P3ErGQw3b5x_LKKBkoJXbH38sVA41t4GBIJGMD497ckBgAVfypVonmGPLa1Imt0BeWiGlY0NIMJ1r-EQZ-CwFiEn43KTFaEX2gIkxMC1VbBhu4ntRrSU7-CFnL_Kr-zphLAY/s1600/20150321_065437.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7BYdReF6P3ErGQw3b5x_LKKBkoJXbH38sVA41t4GBIJGMD497ckBgAVfypVonmGPLa1Imt0BeWiGlY0NIMJ1r-EQZ-CwFiEn43KTFaEX2gIkxMC1VbBhu4ntRrSU7-CFnL_Kr-zphLAY/s1600/20150321_065437.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
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Amazingly enough, out here in the desert, they are growing cotton! Yup. Never mind that there is no rain. The water is coming from somewhere. I was astounded. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw5I2J1kLrrjfnjnvfl3NiBRSped1yg38jvD414ekWHL0_U4iIiqt8OxiBqw3rckWrGzGZwK5V9bAHdUWjStGsVNGHfbawx-9v4aV7ctbFpTtBa56jVs_Ol91VQx7IZ_uutNykCDu2uQ8/s1600/20150321_091515.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw5I2J1kLrrjfnjnvfl3NiBRSped1yg38jvD414ekWHL0_U4iIiqt8OxiBqw3rckWrGzGZwK5V9bAHdUWjStGsVNGHfbawx-9v4aV7ctbFpTtBa56jVs_Ol91VQx7IZ_uutNykCDu2uQ8/s1600/20150321_091515.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicNOfrRE3vsE9iFqcFw-GHiyiClys_6RogbKHllTdeP2XAdEiI-e75duTbxvwh0Wxc-VEy9J1gMD6pN_f1-nzj8GSkbXcekWVvDuURWYBpFKx6dp9kbxgPI1FzyjdoigFykD7wHlf6FdQ/s1600/20150321_091522.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicNOfrRE3vsE9iFqcFw-GHiyiClys_6RogbKHllTdeP2XAdEiI-e75duTbxvwh0Wxc-VEy9J1gMD6pN_f1-nzj8GSkbXcekWVvDuURWYBpFKx6dp9kbxgPI1FzyjdoigFykD7wHlf6FdQ/s1600/20150321_091522.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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Before long, we were into Saguaro National Park. This had to be the highlight of the trip. What an incredible landscape. So many fantastical shapes of cactus. It was stunningly beautiful.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrVVXgqjU2YY5RHh_0s2B2EdqUAiPBDjzI-PKTC3QRmNsHTN0I3aV3qg4RvRicdbpcTlYirTjNWjin47lU7txt0Tmjbr1gr6vz-HNhoiCTd1RodguQrsqvIcM_uvObDlsr-XwJ1qjVTQM/s1600/20150321_093715.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: inline !important; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrVVXgqjU2YY5RHh_0s2B2EdqUAiPBDjzI-PKTC3QRmNsHTN0I3aV3qg4RvRicdbpcTlYirTjNWjin47lU7txt0Tmjbr1gr6vz-HNhoiCTd1RodguQrsqvIcM_uvObDlsr-XwJ1qjVTQM/s1600/20150321_093715.jpg" height="112" width="200" /></a> We were doing well for time. We stopped in at the Visitor's Center, hit the bathroom, and filled our Camelbaks. I figured we needed to head out but Roger suggested we watch the slide show. Honestly! We sat for 20 minutes and I felt refreshed, restored and as I always do in our national parks, so very grateful for the gifts of these parks.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI2F68RtpZ0envM5DkHvn-i6yx7L3Dz3yU9RrAxFasM6cvWZ0y4LiD82AAscCVEhiYgJmBwx6VO3hAW9OeyRb5uHqgsGhjgjDlpqpRD5rgKrpqdMS7pzNxQkOIMismof_FKArwwDQDu2Q/s1600/20150321_094647.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI2F68RtpZ0envM5DkHvn-i6yx7L3Dz3yU9RrAxFasM6cvWZ0y4LiD82AAscCVEhiYgJmBwx6VO3hAW9OeyRb5uHqgsGhjgjDlpqpRD5rgKrpqdMS7pzNxQkOIMismof_FKArwwDQDu2Q/s1600/20150321_094647.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saguaro and other cactus in the landscape</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqmFN_phZxVQ_19EibXeHbXQRrOCqT-vehH_teNDQekTvIlx_iMocoLwzd2DDfYb2EwnAffkaEkqw-0-j9CXRgIBZO0BEJ2rWZR1yN6AvplYEPswai9udMkDUOC_6nETcKwTX3zVnQVdQ/s1600/20150321_095146.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqmFN_phZxVQ_19EibXeHbXQRrOCqT-vehH_teNDQekTvIlx_iMocoLwzd2DDfYb2EwnAffkaEkqw-0-j9CXRgIBZO0BEJ2rWZR1yN6AvplYEPswai9udMkDUOC_6nETcKwTX3zVnQVdQ/s1600/20150321_095146.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There were so many is was just amazing.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqjFicQmdBzz6zzEaiSRfOoGuovrmLRl6Qjci5N239_fZq7VAU58Y7B4eRyHTIqY0aP4DuSnavJ0XDffm_vffLCtipWNhDCWKiZuUlyP624BKbWC83IRm8N1-7uKrhR8b1vAvZNQy2jsU/s1600/20150321_102112.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqjFicQmdBzz6zzEaiSRfOoGuovrmLRl6Qjci5N239_fZq7VAU58Y7B4eRyHTIqY0aP4DuSnavJ0XDffm_vffLCtipWNhDCWKiZuUlyP624BKbWC83IRm8N1-7uKrhR8b1vAvZNQy2jsU/s1600/20150321_102112.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the Visitor's Center</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Close up with some other cactus plus the creosote, which was blooming everywhere. Just gorgeous!</td></tr>
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After the National Park, we headed off down Mission Road (remote) to Green Valley, where we should have had a stop at the Shell station. But alas! It was shuttered. It seems that the fine folk of Green Valley thought their gas was too expensive, and since it's a retirement community with lots of people who have plenty of time to drive around in search of cheaper gas, it went out of business! All over the town we saw little strip malls with closed businesses. The place was full of golf courses, and lovely homes, but no services. It was very odd. We were glad that Carlton had said he'd find us on the route with sandwiches, and happy to see his van. As it turned out, he was parked near one of the businesses that did seem to still be open, and so I used the restroom there. It was just across the place from the Longhorn and I caught this shot of Roger before we headed off. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAkDECVk4KThyphenhyphenyyAHB1odPIjI12I4Se45ZWFPp8BDUq3dN8Bve7dOtb6sn6iQkKqxrPO7ETZCJhhX1ooo3L0mG026QYVxiUYFQdpG6Nbty3Pgk7NVOzhrWqXYzMgftepn2ZJ4NF2Xg1iw/s1600/20150321_151038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAkDECVk4KThyphenhyphenyyAHB1odPIjI12I4Se45ZWFPp8BDUq3dN8Bve7dOtb6sn6iQkKqxrPO7ETZCJhhX1ooo3L0mG026QYVxiUYFQdpG6Nbty3Pgk7NVOzhrWqXYzMgftepn2ZJ4NF2Xg1iw/s1600/20150321_151038.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the better doorways to a restaurant I have ever seen!</td></tr>
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The next leg was rollers gently sloping up to Arivaca. This is a little tiny place a dozen miles from the Mexican border. We stopped to share a burger and a beer. The locals were enjoying the basketball games on TV, shooting pool, and drinking beer. Not a lot else to do in Arivaca! The Arizona visitor's website tells us it is "Quaint and quirky" and Wikipedia turned up a citation about a double homicide in 2009 by a nut job Minuteman. Fun town!</div>
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Leaving Arivaca, we thought we'd mostly be heading downhill, and we were. But again - compacting the profile leaves out a lot of little bumps! We had gained about 800 feet before we eventually descended 500. Roger kept asking, "what's our elevation?" and I had to say, "3400" over and over again. In any case, it was a beautiful, solitary road. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJIHkpY6sZYy0cN1nUIR-YuiLPlGAy5-36rLs_myaGIl49Xw-t1ZsSx-tCHMiChjt1v-SavklypkTCF4Ndsoa5KJadzqIctMiJXL_3XiWTqFg-1vXrzne06_lFAN8ojirSvLSa_q1atNk/s1600/20150321_180721.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJIHkpY6sZYy0cN1nUIR-YuiLPlGAy5-36rLs_myaGIl49Xw-t1ZsSx-tCHMiChjt1v-SavklypkTCF4Ndsoa5KJadzqIctMiJXL_3XiWTqFg-1vXrzne06_lFAN8ojirSvLSa_q1atNk/s1600/20150321_180721.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a>The only folks we saw on this segment were the Border Control agents. One of them passed us about every 15 minutes. The sun set while we were on this leg, and once again, it was stunning! </div>
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Finally the sun went down - usually our cue to start having flats but we made it to the little grocers at the next corner and were pleased to see the van there. We had a bit to eat, and connected with another rider who was on a recumbent bike. He seemed a bit nervous about riding alone on the next bit, as he was getting tired. I think it was about 9 pm by now. We said we'd ride along with him, but when we headed out he actually pulled away from us, and then blam - we hit a bit of gravel, and had our first pinch flat of the night. I don't think he even knew it, and anyway, it's every man for himself at that point! We had another flat or two as we rode the next stretch. Somewhere in this next bit we were going through the saguaros again, and we could see them standing in the darkness. The stars were wonderful - it's interesting to look up from the bike and see the Big Dipper!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Border Patrol agents snapped a shot of us at the checkpoint</td></tr>
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By the time we arrived at the penultimate control (the McDonald's where we had been at 8:30 that morning), it was around midnight. Mile 211. (Roger had called off my first "double century" a little bit before then, when we passed 200 miles.) We had until 8 in the morning to finish the last 43 miles. We were pretty tired, but felt sure we would have no trouble getting in under our time limit. I observed that it would not be any less dark if we rested a bit before we headed out, and so that is what we did. We laid down on the benches as the McDonald's and took a short nap! When we got ready to leave, it was about 1:30 am, and we road along through the night (one more flat) watching the stars and stopping every now and then so I could massage Roger's arms and shoulders. We made it back to the Walmart at four minutes past five in the morning, put the bike on the car, and went back to the Denny's to change and have something to eat. There we saw Chuck, the guy on the recumbent, who had made it in not too long before we did. </div>
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We drove to Jennifer's house (Dana's friend who lives in Scottsdale) and crashed for a few hours before rising in mid day. It was nice to visit with her and her family, and we were thankful for a chance to rest before heading home the next day. As she told Dana later, "they looked like hell when they got here!" It took several days to recover. Neither Roger nor I have pulled an all-nighter for many years. </div>
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So, here we are, on the brink of our 600 K brevet. We are traveling to Texas for a combination visit with my family and attempt at the Luling 600. If we can manage our stops on the first 400 K, the route circles back to the start so we can sleep in the hotel a bit before starting the last 200. I'll let you know how that turns out!</div>
Kathy Behrenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10243629070261916327noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649888214528061272.post-12164975720548943612015-04-19T14:24:00.001-07:002015-04-19T14:24:47.616-07:00So much to write, so little time!I wanted to share a few of the long-ish training rides we've done along the way, but time has gotten away from me as other activities filled our life and so I will just cut to the chase and capture the two main rides we've completed recently: the 300K through the desert and the 400K through the desert!<br />
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First, the 300K from 29 Palms to Las Vegas. Wow. If you were to try to design a ride that went from nowhere, to nowhere, through the middle of nowhere, you could not do better than this one. The route slip was deceptively simple. Note the warnings here and there: DO NOT MISS THIS TURN! To do so would be to die, lost and out of water, I fear.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thank God we had breakfast before beginning</td></tr>
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For about the first 150 miles or so, from 29 Palms to the God forsaken little establishment of Primm on Interstate 15, there was not a place to eat or drink. Well, practically. There was life at the old Kelso Junction, and though the lunch counter was closed (looking for a new concessionaire) at least the gift shop had some chips for sale. And there was water, and a restroom. Not so much in Amboy, where Roy's - long an anticipated stop on the "mother road" of Route 66 - was shut despite the sign announcing "always open." As a result, the ride organizer provided rolling sag of sorts, stopping here and there along the route to make sure we all had sufficient water to continue.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It did not look like it would be that difficult . . . but note the length of the ascending portions. Tough on a tandem!</td></tr>
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We began in a largish group, rolling slightly downhill so the tandem picked up speed and away we flew! Roger asked if any of the group behind was with us. No - they were maintaining their speed, riding their pace. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLGxFoTEVb0h9y-Cq6-PLFw3jslsNzBSXlJuDHaMnlwJb8B5Hwhd39WB5VLjKUZtlH2IghqJBJ3QQp9-5w-2Vtvn9Fv9K7L29za-lnSn-vTzdHA27_ofTjrGXGXilJJvywPY556UhuCe8/s1600/20150314_062328_010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLGxFoTEVb0h9y-Cq6-PLFw3jslsNzBSXlJuDHaMnlwJb8B5Hwhd39WB5VLjKUZtlH2IghqJBJ3QQp9-5w-2Vtvn9Fv9K7L29za-lnSn-vTzdHA27_ofTjrGXGXilJJvywPY556UhuCe8/s1600/20150314_062328_010.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise as we left 20 Palms</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And, when the road kicked up a bit and they came around us, he attempted to hang with them. I did not help. Remember, I told him - we are riding <i><b>our pace</b></i> and completing <i><b>our 300.</b></i> I'm not going to help you try to ride their pace. That took care of that! We soon settled into our rhythm, and the first climb began.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRsFMw9qGF95iHGJp-efEaFT-5mU_2BPznQRb7sPydpm3TNSCDN5LIHh_fQnlfeB6XM7lflFzqxwB5QgbuxeHE3eq-WrFtw_6RsLlDdKOVmD3v6XL1tgKsSg3lcyXm29KYkGa4-rmCwBU/s1600/20150314_085054.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRsFMw9qGF95iHGJp-efEaFT-5mU_2BPznQRb7sPydpm3TNSCDN5LIHh_fQnlfeB6XM7lflFzqxwB5QgbuxeHE3eq-WrFtw_6RsLlDdKOVmD3v6XL1tgKsSg3lcyXm29KYkGa4-rmCwBU/s1600/20150314_085054.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Summit number one, then 20 miles down to Amboy</td></tr>
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The thing about the desert is that you are likely to be able to see 10 or 15 miles down the road. On these shallow grades of 3 to 5 percent (occasionally but not often slipping up to 7 or 8 for a few yards) that means that you can see about an hour down the road. Ay yi yi! That gets dispiriting. We'd play that "how long until we get to that bluff?" game now and then, but really - it got old.<br />
<br />
The first climb was about 5 miles, not really a stretch for us. That ended with a nice (20 miles or so) descent into Amboy, at mile 65. This was to be a hamburger stop, Roger had told me. He'd even checked out Roy's on the Internet. But alas! <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzSblNDi0S2r4mIyElZ1jkOISRhUnlJ14aMj-l2D0hQqTNHwv8w5XefAt5L_l3b_SFnIHyrf6Hf9nIjqxF1Va-9AUIfxmiU5OeQagbSmwaI_0ZzVi9EKf8ToaALGTgwBp9pFgXfQ4j6mA/s1600/20150314_101228.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzSblNDi0S2r4mIyElZ1jkOISRhUnlJ14aMj-l2D0hQqTNHwv8w5XefAt5L_l3b_SFnIHyrf6Hf9nIjqxF1Va-9AUIfxmiU5OeQagbSmwaI_0ZzVi9EKf8ToaALGTgwBp9pFgXfQ4j6mA/s1600/20150314_101228.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looks sort of like it's open, doesn't it?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSgeStLQTQLhTH0-vRcegRwhaxrM-gy15K0NMMcTEJx7kCKLTU_IgFf7sJME7DOEsCppErulWTm36k3Sv8XUwGqpf1po4COIkmw2rjFasjQWgX08YHJWElt4F99A38WxkcPMfsz0eFtBw/s1600/20150314_101223.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSgeStLQTQLhTH0-vRcegRwhaxrM-gy15K0NMMcTEJx7kCKLTU_IgFf7sJME7DOEsCppErulWTm36k3Sv8XUwGqpf1po4COIkmw2rjFasjQWgX08YHJWElt4F99A38WxkcPMfsz0eFtBw/s1600/20150314_101223.jpg" height="640" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roger heads with purpose to Roy's</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
There was a little movie crew there, filming some horror movie, probably with a slasher inside. We walked towards the door, where the sign clearly said, "Always Open." But the guy with the camera said, "It's closed." "But the sign says it's open." "But it's not. It's closed." So I said, "So, it's Always Open, except when it's Not?" That's about the size of it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6jZP_51zB8tZejpYiefEV0Ly00nFpr3dkBHPncfV6htc8K_waoDNkeUPrqnWZZJpKM4Vd0waZ9GJ2CdtpGPd-Y2lqP8pauvTX3hnTgtsju3LDKQb7SIS5qAy5taLKAmAdU7UtmS3qzNY/s1600/20150314_101501.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6jZP_51zB8tZejpYiefEV0Ly00nFpr3dkBHPncfV6htc8K_waoDNkeUPrqnWZZJpKM4Vd0waZ9GJ2CdtpGPd-Y2lqP8pauvTX3hnTgtsju3LDKQb7SIS5qAy5taLKAmAdU7UtmS3qzNY/s1600/20150314_101501.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Always open, except when it's not</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Well, I had packed some peanut butter sandwiches, and the organizer of the ride was there, refilling water bottles, so we had a little snack under a tree and headed out again.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRav81MbB8H1LN5vs8Kzr01_2oJYZfDyHn5pWPo7CMeeVk6-vdNOzh2jR_KmblhFj-0mimNu8P_Na0VqhkEqeqvigjG5_igzTCkmwdVGD-mLhgctVH0RjliQzYy2vaWYiircJqdMiiGcE/s1600/20150314_101521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRav81MbB8H1LN5vs8Kzr01_2oJYZfDyHn5pWPo7CMeeVk6-vdNOzh2jR_KmblhFj-0mimNu8P_Na0VqhkEqeqvigjG5_igzTCkmwdVGD-mLhgctVH0RjliQzYy2vaWYiircJqdMiiGcE/s1600/20150314_101521.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crew was not amused, and not even particularly gracious. I assured them I would not sell the photo, thereby eliminating the need to gain their approval to be in it.</td></tr>
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This time I think we had something like a 20 mile uphill. It was interminable. At one point, we sought shade under a creosote bush. You know you're desperate when you look for shade under a creosote bush!<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCIXzpwFihtVzHENf7gwuBA_PKpN2WGThO8S9W6ubFht4BF0WZdBugPm_YIu3CW-ZWfRzbt2esuKpQl-C4OwOkoRa38wC7Ul3SwH97gtkZ-aKs0FOYlFqT3nVRtyo5vo9T8mkh7_Hqx3Y/s1600/20150314_085008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCIXzpwFihtVzHENf7gwuBA_PKpN2WGThO8S9W6ubFht4BF0WZdBugPm_YIu3CW-ZWfRzbt2esuKpQl-C4OwOkoRa38wC7Ul3SwH97gtkZ-aKs0FOYlFqT3nVRtyo5vo9T8mkh7_Hqx3Y/s1600/20150314_085008.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shade is better earlier in the day, for sure!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Anyway, we passed a fascinating "chloride mine" (looked like they were mining salt from an old lake bed) and finally arrived at Kelso. This is a super-cute restored old station, that used to have a wonderful lunch counter. But no more. So it was a couple of bars, the goop, some nuts and the last of our fruit. At least the toilets flushed!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLfp0SPoLQKYFw9o2DC2fa_38ajoKCvHQtR0GFZ7Fjr7u0mupEHAtuHcx35QqYLS5d_9BGzZvfozOzadY_hAMGoTIH_pXdpkx_VH2xPGAnmitgjRf1XYVgYCIdy13WHJLb51-j1oOrN7Y/s1600/20150314_153922.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLfp0SPoLQKYFw9o2DC2fa_38ajoKCvHQtR0GFZ7Fjr7u0mupEHAtuHcx35QqYLS5d_9BGzZvfozOzadY_hAMGoTIH_pXdpkx_VH2xPGAnmitgjRf1XYVgYCIdy13WHJLb51-j1oOrN7Y/s1600/20150314_153922.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For years, I'd thought it would be fun to go out here and dine at the lunch counter. Little did I know the counter had closed.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
From here, about another 20+ miles of gradual climbing before we hit the summit and saw the sag wagon! A welcome sight! We beat the sun set, which was a good thing because the descent was an unholy stretch of pocked and ragged road. We would not have wanted to do it in the dark.<br />
<br />
Somewhere along the route, probably on the way to Kelso, we stopped for a moment and I took a set of pictures, capturing each aspect of the horizon. You can see that it was beautiful, and quite desolate. Few signs of mankind anywhere in the view finder.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4SFNdOqa2TRa2GM8otVW0Cae9iC-_yR1ZLMEtGdxz7xOKv2vEXIw2VLsKpiHBS6OkZctdPX9uRor7gFgL3-ODThSOv2zmuUF91rrdA8L3mY8Y1lu5jg8CjrmU64iYs5c0CEEa0R5Kh28/s1600/20150314_135240.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4SFNdOqa2TRa2GM8otVW0Cae9iC-_yR1ZLMEtGdxz7xOKv2vEXIw2VLsKpiHBS6OkZctdPX9uRor7gFgL3-ODThSOv2zmuUF91rrdA8L3mY8Y1lu5jg8CjrmU64iYs5c0CEEa0R5Kh28/s1600/20150314_135240.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking back down the road the way we came.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHn57IJasobC7TZHAVNa8LHSh-v8bAVMo0xDLmBDfFvXdxQDOLCGaSmKkUQImygQ8E0C_fqax7iyi6u3lFsbliQzGz8zmenZeiYAnanxb2VXoscZtLwT4G1laE2_zR7vfifbRfZpHa3So/s1600/20150314_135225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHn57IJasobC7TZHAVNa8LHSh-v8bAVMo0xDLmBDfFvXdxQDOLCGaSmKkUQImygQ8E0C_fqax7iyi6u3lFsbliQzGz8zmenZeiYAnanxb2VXoscZtLwT4G1laE2_zR7vfifbRfZpHa3So/s1600/20150314_135225.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Off towards the right - nothing.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2RuhdtxSry2ZVWDQhECemtsiQqCqXuTkGAN0Jra2dGjMkJfbHf_nBoq5o3tBgxWRdxVcNhT0qDQfEhiHVGcNOaX7kkdr3w8gEBvvxjaKbizhAVtO3xsPj1TvBb_5SLoqmX1Nvs-9ezjY/s1600/20150314_135244.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2RuhdtxSry2ZVWDQhECemtsiQqCqXuTkGAN0Jra2dGjMkJfbHf_nBoq5o3tBgxWRdxVcNhT0qDQfEhiHVGcNOaX7kkdr3w8gEBvvxjaKbizhAVtO3xsPj1TvBb_5SLoqmX1Nvs-9ezjY/s1600/20150314_135244.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back off towards the left - nothing.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIg9iZlmf2hmpN-5AWOSFjmynKcJinrkqE35NtYzrb9ZqNAm2EqXDnzshy-YicWFQgu0nWkYqDT8JqSLZdHowyVH9KPt5lDcU3_4uIZBe-Qfn6EDlps9Lnm62JEEle8a0NVaIhCifLaPA/s1600/20150314_135232.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIg9iZlmf2hmpN-5AWOSFjmynKcJinrkqE35NtYzrb9ZqNAm2EqXDnzshy-YicWFQgu0nWkYqDT8JqSLZdHowyVH9KPt5lDcU3_4uIZBe-Qfn6EDlps9Lnm62JEEle8a0NVaIhCifLaPA/s1600/20150314_135232.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nothing here.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaoe9RJZ7h-RnCpXZExAaRgwYlQDSf_dHn55NqJ4GMrEtOyUEKgwDgawqHPYaXJahT0fXDJL9JGtQGM8t4HOklZpWdYsDTPvLIIqZvTXx4YLNdA2SulgcpkmXQOPeg2D1ijXdLi0pLcRw/s1600/20150314_135218.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaoe9RJZ7h-RnCpXZExAaRgwYlQDSf_dHn55NqJ4GMrEtOyUEKgwDgawqHPYaXJahT0fXDJL9JGtQGM8t4HOklZpWdYsDTPvLIIqZvTXx4YLNdA2SulgcpkmXQOPeg2D1ijXdLi0pLcRw/s1600/20150314_135218.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just out of view to the right there was a cell tower, I think - that was it!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
At the base of that gnarly descent, we put our clear glasses, vests and lights on, and began another climb up to I 15. This is when it got dark, but climbing in the dark is really not much of a problem for us. Roger's arms were worn out from handling the bike on that rough descent, so we'd stop every couple of miles and I'd massage them for a bit. However, all in all, we were feeling pretty good - although getting hungry.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYhbQYWrGNal4PoDUJ9CbQ1TYO4W4K_Bzo5hTW3MJ_1uHb2nyMWN6CH6fxyqBA7AvI0VL8DA6gtoBMQim64YGct51UDLq6Rm-Gbk1LS-pXnALLKwJdblBUvMB-_EQlvn_DkvqLIx6xeTw/s1600/20150314_185215.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYhbQYWrGNal4PoDUJ9CbQ1TYO4W4K_Bzo5hTW3MJ_1uHb2nyMWN6CH6fxyqBA7AvI0VL8DA6gtoBMQim64YGct51UDLq6Rm-Gbk1LS-pXnALLKwJdblBUvMB-_EQlvn_DkvqLIx6xeTw/s1600/20150314_185215.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
Well, things had been long, and hot, and hard, but generally beautiful in that solitary, desert vista kind of way. So it was fun in a weird fashion. But when we got to the freeway, the not-fun started. Which is to say, descending on the shoulder while traffic roared by in the dark = not fun. Pretty soon, the inevitable happened: we hit some scrabble and flatted. By this point, we were close enough to Primm to see the lights. Additionally, there was a 400 mile off-road race going on in the desert, so the dust, lights and noise combined to create some horrific scene out of Max Mad Thunderdome. Roger got the bike fixed but we flatted again before we even made it to Primm. Three times. At last we got there and were able to have a burger. This was at mile 155 - only 30 to go and it was mostly slowly rising, then falling to the finish. Of course, when you are compacting 185 miles on a profile, you lose a lot of the detail!<br />
<br />
We were somewhere between Primm and when we would leave the freeway at Jean (about 20 miles to go) when Roger's headlight went out. Obviously we should not have been using it while we changed all those flats. So I gave him my headlamp (which was about to run out of batteries) and we kept on going. At the exit, we found a gas station where we were able to buy batteries for the head lamp. At least we were off the freeway! <br />
<br />
The last section was not bad. It was an alternate route straight to the strip, where our hotel awaited. Oh wait - let's back up just a bit. Somehow, in all the communication with the ride organizer, Roger had failed to get the details of the return home straightened out. So we did not know until some time in the middle of the ride that everyone would be sleeping in Vegas, and returning in the morning. Damn! That's what the sentence "everyone is responsible for their own reservations" on the ride description had meant! So when we got to Primm and into cell-service-land, we called and got a room in the hotel where we were finishing the ride. Those little details are so important!<br />
<br />
We were within sight of the casino when we got our fourth and final flat. We had a tube left, but no air cartridges. The shoulder was littered with stones and debris, and I just could not imagine Roger pumping up the tire only to have it flat again in 200 yards. I checked with Google maps, who said we were 2 miles from the hotel (a 40 minute walk) and said, "we're walking it in. We have plenty of time and I can't stand another flat." Roger didn't think that was such a great idea, but honestly, I thought we'd do better than 20 minutes a mile and I was already walking. He followed me with the bike. Well, sure enough, it was 40 minutes, damn it! We arrived in the parking lot just before 1:00 am (the cut-off was 2:00) and found the van. The guy sleeping in the van put the tandem on the roof, and we retrieved our bag, and we headed into the casino to get our room. <br />
<br />
Now since we had not understood that we'd be spending the night, we only had "riding home in the car clothes" with us, but a T shirt will do double duty as jammies and so we showered, brushed our teeth (I had brought a little travel tube of toothpaste and a brush with us just in case) and hit the sack. What a fabulous bed! Of course, it might have been awful. How would we have known? We were so tired we could have slept on stone.<br />
<br />
No danger of that, though. We actually had a suite on the top floor of the hotel. I guess the clerk checking us in took pity on us. It had a living room, kitchenette, huge bath, three TVs (including one in the bathroom.) It's a pity we only spent 5 hours there before getting up, getting some breakfast and meeting the group in the parking lot for our ride home. <br />
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So there you have it. Even with 70+ miles of uphill, four flats and virtually no food, we made it in time. I suggested that it would be okay with me if we stopped our pursuit at this one. Roger asked that we just wait a couple of days before making that decision, and so on Tuesday or Wednesday I agreed that we could register for the 400 K in Arizona. This one, he said, would be more suited to the tandem - not such long climbs. Well, we'll see. So Friday found us driving to Phoenix for the next brevet. More on that later!</div>
Kathy Behrenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10243629070261916327noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649888214528061272.post-30775209947613899222015-04-06T12:01:00.000-07:002015-04-06T12:01:07.577-07:00Backlog of ResultsThere's an old saw about how "good girls keep diaries . . . bad girls don't have the time." Well, I don't think I qualify as a "bad girl" but I have been a busy girl, so I am way behind on posting the results of our recent brevets. <br />
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No need to keep anyone guessing - we have successfully finished both our second attempt at the 300 K and the 400 K, and we've now registered for the 600 K. Whew! With that out of the way, I'll back up a bit and fill in the blanks. <br />
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First, a few photos from the "one that got away." We attempted the 300 K Five Rivers brevet through LA and Orange County in early February. Here we are at the start - everyone "glowing" in their reflective gear. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Russell Cammel and Steve Workman from our RWBTC cycling club with Roger before the start</td></tr>
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We have ridden the Santa Ana River Trail along the Santa Ana River many times. Here's an early morning shot as we approached the first crossing.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-aOJwkAVR8CNru4ShIpG6B5hWK_DttDL7_ZdobgmsELvnUHmEUGOHnSiYCM8C1VOVV6zO3TkzB6-o8okydOmaK5und6f4hw-NknOXSCuRg_GAx2z7V4nNWwaXPH9LOdtiUAVwV6x0cXc/s1600/20150207_065053_005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-aOJwkAVR8CNru4ShIpG6B5hWK_DttDL7_ZdobgmsELvnUHmEUGOHnSiYCM8C1VOVV6zO3TkzB6-o8okydOmaK5und6f4hw-NknOXSCuRg_GAx2z7V4nNWwaXPH9LOdtiUAVwV6x0cXc/s1600/20150207_065053_005.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">River Number One: The Santa Ana, in one of the more scenic "restored" segments.</td></tr>
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From the coast, we traveled north until we reached the San Gabriel River. We traveled up that all the way to Duarte, I think. Our second control was about at mile 80, and despite my best efforts to convince Roger that we could stop for "just a bit" somewhere along the way, we pretty much rolled onward until we go there. This made for a roughly 50 mile stretch with no relief. The control itself was a no-name stop-and-go next door to a non-descript pizza joint. So we had a slice and rested a bit and then were on our way. Portions of the San Gabriel River are very nice. And then, there's the part where you are riding past the barrios where the guys are raising cocks for fighting. Sigh.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX7wk86wdJgmMO-j1K6SFWBhbZW4HloPZnAMRqCUu2WHGKmhck284TbJoq2qLN2MmEtdIZLjnaS7PUU0cNmiyRdL97tcvCuc_8ZoxvWyIBvt9S7bYlyilfb1T5P5q99oSx3PKNSfB0xyU/s1600/20150207_090151.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX7wk86wdJgmMO-j1K6SFWBhbZW4HloPZnAMRqCUu2WHGKmhck284TbJoq2qLN2MmEtdIZLjnaS7PUU0cNmiyRdL97tcvCuc_8ZoxvWyIBvt9S7bYlyilfb1T5P5q99oSx3PKNSfB0xyU/s1600/20150207_090151.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the nicer parts of the San Gabriel River Trail, on River Number Two</td></tr>
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After our stop, we returned to the trail and back-traced our route to a junction with the Rio Hondo River Trail. This was a hoot! There are some nice stretches of trail, but not much in the way of "river" on this one. Here's a shot in the connecting stretch from San Gabriel to Rio Hondo. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYBzw9OtgYoaljrP8nMuopgoAlxqaZ3O6ty_qQY2buDNjNma-jgno78VGKAfiV1q1pBkLgy9LI6ckZU4vJDygXDxMZ64OJA8mYw1VsYCt_4t7lNE2KvaCdY9m3BIetTSx3H8Y99Ck0l7Q/s1600/20150207_125703.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYBzw9OtgYoaljrP8nMuopgoAlxqaZ3O6ty_qQY2buDNjNma-jgno78VGKAfiV1q1pBkLgy9LI6ckZU4vJDygXDxMZ64OJA8mYw1VsYCt_4t7lNE2KvaCdY9m3BIetTSx3H8Y99Ck0l7Q/s1600/20150207_125703.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
And, a nice shot of our friends, who enjoyed the benefits of riding the tandem train for many miles before leaving us (around mile 120 or so, at Long Beach). <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steve in the rear-view mirror</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"River" Number Three: The Rio Hondo</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTIyUPUlaKanj7gRpFYPgQY4ztf1-Xll2CgtJHOFQwns6S4bxBlKRjWQNaGvNV_OEWxRpcl8cBjkqcpT_vdgbtkPv6ADvpx494zDG-9eySPEPt1sSuIhW6KVU3r4GOhYmBnM_YzcrXx_w/s1600/20150207_131330.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTIyUPUlaKanj7gRpFYPgQY4ztf1-Xll2CgtJHOFQwns6S4bxBlKRjWQNaGvNV_OEWxRpcl8cBjkqcpT_vdgbtkPv6ADvpx494zDG-9eySPEPt1sSuIhW6KVU3r4GOhYmBnM_YzcrXx_w/s1600/20150207_131330.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTIyUPUlaKanj7gRpFYPgQY4ztf1-Xll2CgtJHOFQwns6S4bxBlKRjWQNaGvNV_OEWxRpcl8cBjkqcpT_vdgbtkPv6ADvpx494zDG-9eySPEPt1sSuIhW6KVU3r4GOhYmBnM_YzcrXx_w/s1600/20150207_131330.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><br />
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The Rio Hondo, like most LA rivers, has been charted into channels like what you see below. In some cases, we're now breaking up the concrete, and attempting to return the river to some semblance of nature. I far prefer those portions, where it's possible to observe lots of birds and, even at 18 or 20 miles an hour, identify species. It gives me something to do as the miles churn by!<br />
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From the Rio Hondo, we connected to the Los Angeles River. How about that shot of the confluence of the Rio Hondo and Los Angeles Rivers!?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvDI1vnnU-J0_PVKaOewzGta4YetK0sCJZbaxUXPflk0VGixi7UGGVrMWDMhQFRmu4BBrE6NWh_-cKn8Sv42gIPiQT1iIikG971wnbVVLjQ-m2f0iXs3IUG-km-awEv0Pagno4J-fpUmA/s1600/20150207_134101.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvDI1vnnU-J0_PVKaOewzGta4YetK0sCJZbaxUXPflk0VGixi7UGGVrMWDMhQFRmu4BBrE6NWh_-cKn8Sv42gIPiQT1iIikG971wnbVVLjQ-m2f0iXs3IUG-km-awEv0Pagno4J-fpUmA/s1600/20150207_134101.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I have to believe this could be thrilling to see in a heavy rainstorm, but otherwise -- not so much!</td></tr>
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We took the LA River Trail back out to the coast, and then headed south to Long Beach for the next control. In the meanwhile, nice views of the port and the Queen Mary.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">River Number Four: There actually is water in the LA River as you approach the coast.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHP_Y4Os5IwCz_kpxOhL8U-uhWOAtFkNBP9MJ00dtk4L7IxInXAws5jMUgdDejpCD1n4DpU85gMFcliWWm2hUDwlKmz0KVWird6SRiw_rX9dkb0I5QPir3nI_fcrPXcEzzpUk1Q_14L3w/s1600/20150207_142339.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHP_Y4Os5IwCz_kpxOhL8U-uhWOAtFkNBP9MJ00dtk4L7IxInXAws5jMUgdDejpCD1n4DpU85gMFcliWWm2hUDwlKmz0KVWird6SRiw_rX9dkb0I5QPir3nI_fcrPXcEzzpUk1Q_14L3w/s1600/20150207_142339.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Port of Long Beach</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEhA_piVOBDlKuaJ2Hq9uULaWlZ90OGKbuNp4srsW15YgMte7f3JOmVJ6rVA_49KAxDlCqlnkusmVM4TaYm-JweRpEEYzevbFaKmLGi5le7ffVN2ZbKhuszDmlCtaeoSe_qZ_jBTKmrww/s1600/20150207_143042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEhA_piVOBDlKuaJ2Hq9uULaWlZ90OGKbuNp4srsW15YgMte7f3JOmVJ6rVA_49KAxDlCqlnkusmVM4TaYm-JweRpEEYzevbFaKmLGi5le7ffVN2ZbKhuszDmlCtaeoSe_qZ_jBTKmrww/s1600/20150207_143042.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Queen Mary</td></tr>
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We arrived at the control right as the Mardi Gras parade was winding through the shopping and eating center. By this point, I was ready for something "real" to eat. Our friends seemed to be capable of going without any food, but they did join us for a bite and then, at our urging, headed on. I was seriously ready to drop the pace a bit, and thankfully Roger was getting tired and okay with that.<br />
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Folks in the Mardi Gras parade seemed to be having a good time.<br />
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From this point, Roger's left side became increasingly weak. We did not actually identify it at first - I just kept saying "why are you riding so close to the white line?" This was annoying him, but it scared me and I couldn't see why he didn't move to the right. As it was, his right side was dominating, and with the increased pressure from that side, we just kept drifting to the left.<br />
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We had some trouble following the route slip around the highway interchange near Balboa, but eventually found the bike trail and road above the back bay. The sun was setting as we road above the bay - it was very pretty but I guess I didn't take any pictures. From this point in, the route was known to us. We just (just!) had to go back up the Peters Canyon Trail, head up Santiago, cross back over to the SART, and then retrace our steps to the start. But it was not to be.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2vDhGzaStAZHY7nKFtr1CFydDyJVHGRQ1G7oJ5MEUNMrrZxCmrZrCkcsjALgqGkDV9b8kN63_HH-62vZYiwrFffKOf2sZcHOzia7WSb5ebhyTkf8RDPSJRiDE1n0cbDIdeHAtzTtxIes/s1600/20150207_181107.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2vDhGzaStAZHY7nKFtr1CFydDyJVHGRQ1G7oJ5MEUNMrrZxCmrZrCkcsjALgqGkDV9b8kN63_HH-62vZYiwrFffKOf2sZcHOzia7WSb5ebhyTkf8RDPSJRiDE1n0cbDIdeHAtzTtxIes/s1600/20150207_181107.jpg" height="640" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Along San Diego Creek, the Fifth and Final "River" of the route.</td></tr>
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We wound along the trail for some time, stopping often to rest and, finally, somewhere out there in Orange County, stopping at a control and having a nice bowl at Chipotle. This was heaven to me! Real food! After that point, we probably stopped every couple of miles.<br />
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We climbed up Santiago, and were there at the Chevron station where our group has stopped many times when Roger decided he was ready to quit. I had no problem with that decision, as I had been growing increasingly concerned about the descent that awaited us on the way back to the Santa Ana River Trail. I did not relish the thought of doing that with Roger being so out of it. <br />
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So, with help from our friend Steve, we were able to retrieve the car and head for home. We phoned in that we were abandoning so the organizer would not have to sit around until 2 am waiting to see if we arrived. No one came by to rip off our numbers, though! So at least we got that going for us.<br />
Kathy Behrenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10243629070261916327noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649888214528061272.post-29947329357469584702015-03-02T17:57:00.000-08:002015-03-02T17:57:20.548-08:00DNFWell, perhaps that is a bit of a spoiler, that post heading. I mean, why read the post if you know already that we did not complete it? I dunno. Maybe you, like me, are actually sort of into the "process" of all this. In any case, here is what happened, and what we did about it, and what is next.<br />
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While we did not go the full 300 km, I nor Roger consider this ride a failure. We got to 165 miles, and that is way farther than I had ever ridden before. So that's something. We had plenty of time to complete the last 20 miles or so (we'd gotten a bit off-course here and there, so it was hard to know exactly how much we had left to ride. Probably less than 25 miles, though.) So why did we quit? <br />
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We determined that it was not safe to continue. And that's saying something. Roger was just losing all the strength in his left side. To be perfectly honest, this was terrifying to me. We'd been going along just great for a hundred miles. In fact, we were probably riding way too hard and too fast and just too much in the same position and at some point, fatigue in the muscles just hit a critical point. Maybe he pinched a nerve or something. He was having trouble staying right of the white line, beginning with the stretch back along PCH after we left Seal Beach. The extreme failing was not obvious at that point, but I did note that I could see his entire right arm from my position, while his left was not visible at all. I kept asking him to move right, move right, you're drifting. Which, of course, was aggravating to him.<br />
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We had a little trouble following the cue sheet around Newport, and by the time we made it to the Bayview Trail, it had gotten dark. We were fine riding with lights, but I just became more and more concerned about Roger. We were stopping every couple of miles, and I was trying to check him out for a possible stroke or something like that, but we could not really figure out what was going on. We had a meal, we took frequent breaks, I made sure he was eating and drinking, but when we finally arrived at the top of Jamboree (and Chapman) near the turn for Santiago Canyon and thankfully, at a Chevron station, he called it. <br />
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We'd been in touch with Steve Workman, who had come out to do the ride also, and so Roger called him and asked him to come out and retrieve me. I rode back to the start with Steve, and picked up our car, and then went back to get Roger. By this time, he was feeling okay - tired but not falling over as he had been. And we determined that we would get everything checked out before we would attempt this distance again.<br />
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True to his word, poor Roger has seen the doctors for a full check-up, EKG, brain scan, sonogram, blood work, stress test, etc. Nothing out of the ordinary has surfaced. We are no closer to knowing why this occurred than before, but we have at least ruled out the truly scary stuff. We are close to concluding that we started too fast, we rode too steadily, we did not get off the bike often enough, and we needed better nutrition. So we are working on all those things. Oh, and I remind Roger to sit square on the saddle, in hopes that that may help him avoid over-taxing one side or the other. He's typically riding a bit to the left, trying to avoid some persistent saddle sores. So we are trying some remedies for that, also.<br />
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Anyway, we were lucky with weather. It had been predicted to rain, but we never saw any. It was cool and overcast, perfect for riding. The route was interesting and really, too flat. We decided that we need more variety to help us avoid the temptation to just "go for it." And, while it's lovely to have our friends with us, I have resolved that we will not ride with anyone again. It is just too tempting to try to go their pace, and we are not going to make it to Paris on anyone's pace but our own. Gracious, we do not need to pull anyone around these routes! And we aren't good at drafting. So it's pretty clear to me we need to stay focused on our own ride, and not worry about whether or not anyone else is along for the ride. <br />
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As you can tell, I learned some important lessons in this event. And we really did have a rocking good day, until we didn't! Our average speed was near 18 mph for the first 80 miles or so. That's ridiculous! Especially when you have 100 miles more to go. Well, live and learn. We have registered for another 300 km that will occur in a couple of weeks. It's from Joshua Tree to Las Vegas, and it will have some climbing in it. Which also means there will be some descending. To tell the truth, that Five Rivers ride had not one bit of descending in it. Not really. I mean, we were heading down hill now and then, but not so that you could just coast. So we really did not ever get any rest. We did one stretch of nearly 50 miles with hardly any time off the bike. I told Roger we are not going to do that again. Just because there is no control point does not mean that you don't stop!<br />
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I took some pictures of the "rivers" along our route, and will share those in another post. And we will keep those wheels turning! Kathy Behrenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10243629070261916327noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649888214528061272.post-12847876851955998692015-02-06T20:25:00.001-08:002015-02-06T20:25:04.300-08:00Why am I not going crazy?Actually, I guess you could say that I am crazy already, since I have agreed to pursue this somewhat ridiculous adventure. But what I'm talking about right now is that tomorrow - yes, tomorrow - we attempt our second brevet - 300 kilometers in one sitting. ("Sitting" will be the worst of it, I fear!) That's far and away the longest distance I have ever attempted, and yet I am not anxious or worried about it. I have given it almost no thought, in fact.<br />
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This is due mostly to the fact that I have been pretty busy with another project, organizing the Conservancy's Tour of the Emerald Necklace. That's one of those projects with multiple sub-projects and lots of volunteers and folks to coordinate, and it's just all-consuming right now. Plus we went up to Tahoe to help Dana with her move. So I just have not had time to fixate on this ride tomorrow.<br />
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Also, Roger seems pretty casual about it. It will be mostly flat - the route goes up and down the various Los Angeles river trails, and we never get over 700 feet, according to the route profile on RidewithGps.com. But still - it's nearly 190 miles! That will be a big increase for me over the last event. Anyway, we are sleeping at home, and we'll get up about 4 am, and dress and head for the start (which is at 6:00 am) and some number of hours later we will be done. I figure it's a full day, for sure. And I won't be able to do anything else, which is actually kind of nice. Can't do anything else, really - just ride my bike. So I am looking forward to that part of it!<br />
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I'll let you know later how it went. For now, I am going over the checklist again. When we did the 200, I did not end up taking the peanut-butter sandwiches, and that was a mistake. Somewhere there around 90 miles or so, Roger got all low-blood-sugar-y and started getting cranky. We determined that we should not endure that again - either one of us! - and so I have already made some sammies to tuck in to our bike bag. I will see to it that he consumes a portion every so often, whether he wants to or not!<br />
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He's planning to wear two pair of shorts, and I am taking a second pair to swap out about 70 or 80 miles into the ride. I figure I will put the clean ones on, and put the others on over them. That will give me extra padding for the final stretch of the ride. I'll let you know how that works out. It was a great help on the last ride to have fresh shorts at the halfway point. I did not use the second pair for padding then, but I figure it may be helpful this time. So that's my plan.<br />
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By the way, we've done almost no riding this week. Since we were up at Tahoe helping Dana, and I was at the church retreat last weekend, I did not have a chance to ride, other than a short trip up Mt. Rose on Tuesday. I felt pretty good on that, at least after adjusting for the altitude. So my legs should be pretty fresh. Or maybe they will be no good at all. It's hard to know how it's going to go. Having never done this before, what do I know? All I can expect is to just keep those pedals turning, turning, turning . . .Kathy Behrenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10243629070261916327noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649888214528061272.post-23001030468360098542015-01-27T22:33:00.002-08:002015-01-27T22:33:55.754-08:00Paying the PiperAround here, we tend to say "why would I ever ride in the rain?" Indeed, because it's so seldom rainy, why would you go out? Tomorrow it will be sunny and you can go ride then. But . . . sometimes I guess it doesn't work out just that way . . .<br />
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It was actually a very odd weekend. High winds were forecast, and the club ride was scheduled to go out to the area around Lake Matthews. That's usually windy under the best of circumstances, and with high, gusting winds, it just didn't seem too appealing. Plus, they were planning to take a route that goes up a very steep, I mean wretchedly steep hill. We've done it on the tandem, and I am not going to do it again. Just not worth it. <br />
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So I'd suggested to Roger that instead of taking that hill, we could ride out with the group, then continue around Lake Matthews while they climbed up. We'd either meet up with them or not later on, but we'd get a good 65 miles or so. But then he just really did not want to go out and fight the wind. And I had a lot of other things to do on Saturday - things I usually cannot do because we are on the bike. So I went to the Farmers' Market, and we just did not ride at all on the weekend.<br />
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Which was fine, because of course - we can ride any day! We agreed that we'd do a longish ride on Monday, and then we took the weekend off. <br />
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Well, Sunday the forecast for Monday was coming in chance of rain. But, we'd decided it was a good thing to get some time in the saddle, even if it did rain - because we want to be prepared for that in the case of bad weather during one of these brevets, or PBP itself. So off we went, headed to Banning Bench and lunch at Gramma's Restaurant.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clouds piling up on the mountains, from Banning Bench</td></tr>
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And wouldn't you know it? We were headed straight into the wind for the first 25 miles or so! There's no way to get around it, it seems. You skip one day, you will pay the next. The clouds piling up over the mountains were beautiful - but a bit fierce looking. Weenie that I am, I suggested we not stop for lunch so that we could make it back before the storm began.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz5MzJZJtPwS0m8BW0yUmOTWiqzA2Ol9C2v1bzIhEp7GpDlP7PawkSuTnN37mVgB5ZEtjkoZG0L7SZOCEh9KqIPH0__GX50pmit2X98UohPZ_8HXz8-OQuqQqlSuUDNKAwK12O8rz0ftQ/s1600/20150126_141627.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz5MzJZJtPwS0m8BW0yUmOTWiqzA2Ol9C2v1bzIhEp7GpDlP7PawkSuTnN37mVgB5ZEtjkoZG0L7SZOCEh9KqIPH0__GX50pmit2X98UohPZ_8HXz8-OQuqQqlSuUDNKAwK12O8rz0ftQ/s1600/20150126_141627.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roger back at the coffee shop</td></tr>
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But Roger reminded me we were out with our rain gear, and that it would be okay if we got caught, and of course that was right. We had a good lunch, and we just FLEW back down San Tim with that fabulous tailwind, and the rain did not begin until we were enjoying our post-ride coffee at Stell's. (I knew this would happen. We were getting a few little sprinkles halfway down San Tim, and I figured that while we were sitting with our coffee, it would start to rain. Which it did.)<br />
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Over all, I was pleased with our pace. We made it up to the top of the ride, on the bench, in reasonable time. I think it was 30 miles with 3300 feet of climbing by the time we were there, and we averaged just about 10 mph. Since that's twice the climbing rate we need for the average "day" at PBP, I felt pretty good about it. And once we started for home, we were able to bring our average up to 13.5 mph overall. <br />
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And it was nice to be able to pull the jackets on, after having toted them to Banning and back!Kathy Behrenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10243629070261916327noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649888214528061272.post-54055389875788906912015-01-19T16:51:00.000-08:002015-01-19T16:51:08.912-08:00Stagecoach CenturyA group of us from the club went out to Ocotillo this past weekend to do the Stagecoach Century. This is a great ride through the desert, with about 5000 feet of climbing and (sometimes) rather fierce winds. We were lucky this time; it was gorgeous weather, clear and probably about 75 to 80 degrees for the better part of the ride Just fantastic!<br />
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Roger and I came in under 6:30 rolling time, with a 15.5 mph average. Total elapsed time was 7:38. (I figured it was a good practice to put that onto the Garmin, so that I'd be aware of how much time we were spending at the rest stops and lunch.) We even had a flat to fix, so we got some time in for that. Doing 100 miles in under 8 hours works out just fine; the standard pace expected for PBP would give you about 12 hours for the 100 so there's your little cushion for real food and sleep. Not a lot of time, but some!<br />
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On this ride, I tried to work out what we'd need to keep track of on the computer. It was handy to have the elapsed time, but I can't imagine keeping the Garmin going for a full 90 hours. So I'll have to figure out how that works. And you definitely need to see the total accumulated miles, but again -- am I going to want to see 750 miles on that thing? Don't know how useful that will be.<br />
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Just for grins, I've gone on the United site to see if we can use award miles to get to France. As of this date, we can - but we are not ready to make a commitment yet. We need to survive the other brevets. Roger has started to identify some that look good. We are on for the 300 km on February 7. It will be a flat course, so kind of a cop-out. But at least, since I have never ridden that far before, it will give me a chance to see if I can hold up. A couple of our club friends are planning to ride it, also. Now, I know why I am doing this. But what on Earth are <i>they</i> thinking? Kathy Behrenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10243629070261916327noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649888214528061272.post-68248845262331249092015-01-12T16:23:00.005-08:002015-01-12T16:26:12.725-08:00Juniper FlatsThis past Saturday the club ride was out to Perris Airport and back via Juniper Flats. Which is definitely mis-named! Altogether, it was 70 miles and just over 4000 feet of climbing. That's actually about the rate of climbing that we need to sustain in our training to get ready for the route in PBP, so I really should not complain. But I was tired when we got home! I actually felt more tired from this club ride on Saturday than the 125 miles we did on the 200 km brevet.<br />
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One reason for that is probably that we really try to keep up with the group, and when the road is tilted up, that tandem is just going to go slower than our friends. While we had a slightly better average pace on the 200 km (14.2 versus 13.7) the terrain Saturday just had more of the "up" stuff proportionately, Trying to stay with the group, or at least not lag too far behind, is taxing. And when we are with the group, Roger loves to be out in front, dragging everyone along. So of course, instead of taking a moderate pace when it's flat, he's going all-out.<br />
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The real figure to watch, though, is the total average mph for the tour. Since we stopped for a burrito at the airport, and occasionally held up to wait for others in the group, we were "on the road" for six hours. (We got back to Stell's just before 2:00 pm) That means our touring average was actually 11.6 mph. That's not really where we want to be; 12.5 mph is a much better pace for the distances we'll be doing, as it will allow us a chance to accumulate more time to sleep. <br />
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However, as we rode, I was sort of figuring it this way: if we can go 70 miles in 6 hours over and over again, we'd make it through the 750 miles in about 66 hours. That still allows 24 off-the-bike hours, which is not too bad. And that not riding through the night thing? Over it. Apparently, there is no way to start the ride without going through the night unless you commit to a shorter time at the outset, and start in the morning on Day 2. I don't think we can give up that much time, so we'll be starting in the evening on Day 1. <br />
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That's okay - it's one of the more intriguing aspects of the event - riding along through the night with fellow travelers. I can wrap my head around that.Kathy Behrenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10243629070261916327noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649888214528061272.post-76606349232762964492015-01-06T18:39:00.002-08:002015-01-06T18:42:45.919-08:00RandonneuseI am now a randonneuse. I like the sound of that! According to the rules of randonneuring, I can now call myself a randonneusse (female form of randonneur) because I have successfully completed my first 200 km brevet. Fancy that!<br />
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All in all, it was a very nice day. We had gorgeous weather - what could be more pleasant than riding along the coast, the deep blue Pacific Ocean sparkling on one side and the hills and sights of Southern California scooting by on the other? (Or crawling by, as it seemed by mile 90.) Of course, it started out cold. And we started in the dark - not something that we'd counted on. The ride began at the Ralph's parking lot, but it ended at the organizer's home about 3/4 mile away. He suggested everyone park there, which we did. But that meant that we were riding downhill at 5:40 in the morning, and at that time, it was DARK. So we had to put the light on the bike - even though, of course, Roger had insisted we would not need the light on this ride! Neither of us counted on needing it to start, so I guess that was okay.<br />
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We turned in our registration documents, waiver, and check, and received our brevet card in exchange. This is like a little passport that contains your control points. You must make it to the control points on time, or you are disqualified. You must document your passage through the control points by obtaining a time-stamped and dated receipt, or you are disqualified. You must sign your brevet card at the end of the ride, or you are disqualified. (Like a golf tournament, I guess!) You must not lose your brevet card, or you are disqualified. Obviously, hanging on to the brevet card is a major goal. I tucked ours safely into a baggie with the cue sheets, so they would be safe from wind and sweat.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The all-important brevet card</td></tr>
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Everyone pulled out promptly at 6:30, although we were just a tad later as I was finishing a little breakfast sandwich. No matter; the route started with a five mile climb so we would have been off the back in any case. We did reach and pass one rider as we climbed up to Santiago Canyon in the pre-dawn. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A fellow traveler along the route</td></tr>
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He was the only one we saw before getting to the overpass near the first control point. There, three cyclists were assisting a friend with a flat. Roger and I were happy that they did not need our help! <br />
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It was freezing in the canyon, and we had it more or less to ourselves. Two red sports cars zoomed by us - twice! They must have been doing laps. The temperature kept falling; I recorded 36.3 degrees at one point. But how beautiful it was - the dawn coming slowly and lighting the road and trees, finally giving us just a bit of warmth and a shadow just before we reached the summit. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Control # 1</td></tr>
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The first control was at the Chevron station there at the base of the canyon where our club rides have stopped many times. What you must do is purchase something so that you get a timed and dated receipt showing when you were there. We had to make this first control point within 1 hour and 36 minutes after starting. And - you could not get there too early, either - not that that would ever be a problem for us! The control was open from 7:18 to 8:06. Period. You make it in within that time frame or you do not get credit for the brevet. Apparently, these times are calculated based on a standard range of speeds established by the officials in France. All very precise! <br />
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From this point, any of our club members would know the route. We headed down to the coast on the bike paths to Newport, where we had our second control. At this point, we actually caught up with a couple of the other riders. Did I mention there were 15 riders on this thing? 15! Not exactly a crush. Anyway, you buy something at this Chevron, and then cram some food into your mouth, hit the bathroom, fill bottles, and go. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM2wUTBstSaVwmITC5KvoI_XFr6sN03U8XIc0jyLMVDCw_ccsNrpCv1QGj7EKFQ6Mjne9HIOpSDAfGBHHKKlk49BYfFR_6OIq_xGMxuDNwKjVDDT3sw0WACbOdMmz7AFp6vI571xEMWNM/s1600/IMG_6404.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM2wUTBstSaVwmITC5KvoI_XFr6sN03U8XIc0jyLMVDCw_ccsNrpCv1QGj7EKFQ6Mjne9HIOpSDAfGBHHKKlk49BYfFR_6OIq_xGMxuDNwKjVDDT3sw0WACbOdMmz7AFp6vI571xEMWNM/s1600/IMG_6404.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
We did manage to pick up a few folks who were happy to draft the tandem for a while on this next stretch. Of course. And there was a fellow from Riverside who had not downloaded the Excel version of the cue sheet, because he had downloaded it from the RidewithGPS site. Big mistake, it turns out. Our ride organizer had all sorts of extra notes and tips in the cue sheet, whereas RidewithGPS said stuff like "Go south on I-5"! When he realized that, he stayed pretty close to us! <br />
<br />
We rode through Laguna Beach (always a nightmare) and then crawled through San Clemente. It seemed to go on forever. We scooted around Dana Point, and took the old highway south for miles past the nuclear energy station. We rode through Pendleton, where the guard at the gate recognized our jerseys and said he was from Yucaipa! And at last, on the far side of the base, we had our third control, got a bite of lunch, and turned around to head for home. <br />
<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some really fantastic tacos, and then back on the bike!</td></tr>
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<br />
It was here, at mile 77, that I swapped for my second pair of bike shorts. Ah! It made a huge difference in my comfort level for the next 30 miles or so. (And then somewhere around mile 115, I realized that my butt was just numb. It was amazing! I thought I would be squirming and dying to get off the saddle and I just could not feel anything. I figure this is something like that runner's high that I have heard about, but never experienced. Call it "randonneur's butt"!)<br />
<br />
Coming back up the coast, we had some pretty stiff headwinds. Our average speed began to fall. Up to this point, we'd been doing very well - averaging over 15 mph. And of course, a headwind in your 90th mile is different than in your 10th! But it was beautiful there along the ocean. That's what I tried to appreciate.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A gorgeous day for a bike ride</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
There was also a fair amount of climbing as we headed back toward the start. The Antonio Parkway was particularly taxing, with a nice long stretch of 8 to 10% thrown in for good measure. <br />
<br />
Our final control was what is called an "information control." You don't need to worry about the time you get there. Instead, there will be some feature or landmark at a given mileage marker. On your brevet card, there is a question, and you must answer it based on what you see. This gives the ride something of a scavenger hunt feel. Of course, this part of it appeals very much to me!<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1XrQRk4cjWg8IqzwNwR2VGVdsFZ42q7_6nHOb_AYZ1NOArzkpUvaNSrjMR7ejsm-HK19P206UKknE3mQHRmjYNXQ8diecCfdG2oNF48pDqXEnPUrV-t0rvT3gMif6YfAKoeDhyphenhyphenff14ww/s1600/IMG_6410.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1XrQRk4cjWg8IqzwNwR2VGVdsFZ42q7_6nHOb_AYZ1NOArzkpUvaNSrjMR7ejsm-HK19P206UKknE3mQHRmjYNXQ8diecCfdG2oNF48pDqXEnPUrV-t0rvT3gMif6YfAKoeDhyphenhyphenff14ww/s1600/IMG_6410.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just beating the sun home!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
At last, we made the turn off Portola for the last 3/4 mile climb up to the finish. The sun was just clipping the horizon. It was getting cold again; in fact for the last half-hour I'd been tempted to call a stop so we could put our shells back on. But we were so close, and the day was going fast . . . I did not want to have to get the lights back out for a final mile or two! <br />
<br />
We arrived at the finish just before 5:00. According to the rules, we had three hours to spare, as the 200 km must be completed in 13.5 hours or less. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO8ODC95_xT42QUjgdVMYW2DghNeG8VRzNCyjZZJvR_4zyqfmvi5Z4iAVXGaTSih7whcytJtgp3PqtCOJ5b1sywwi0iIR903maT8hxxAhGdulA4LRUKsSQrqlyxDZwrjmmrucIzFpJVs8/s1600/IMG_6417.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO8ODC95_xT42QUjgdVMYW2DghNeG8VRzNCyjZZJvR_4zyqfmvi5Z4iAVXGaTSih7whcytJtgp3PqtCOJ5b1sywwi0iIR903maT8hxxAhGdulA4LRUKsSQrqlyxDZwrjmmrucIzFpJVs8/s1600/IMG_6417.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pulling into the finish</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
I was pleased with our overall performance; we averaged 14.2 for the ride of nearly 126 miles with 5826 feet of climbing. Our touring average was 12 mph. That's about what I had figured we would need to do over the long haul. But, we were pretty relaxed about our time off the bike and we will certainly need to get faster with the "necessaries" as we pursue the longer distances so that we can accumulate enough time to actually get some sleep between the riding sessions! <br />
<br />
We were not the last to finish, in any case. So that's something. We signed our cards, filled in our time at the control points, and headed off to find a beer and a burger. Some things never change!<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJRjBrqKrDrBnnJ4stsE4F3YuAExK7GHP-2hr3BTtOsr8TpC7jYfI-AV-4fuXHKPxSp9BxfEMuBCcHvqAVQJB21FLuzT7xLCTjM7BxYa3JSun4hnJqBrILtQbmfCzyXp-lldmvEYGOwqw/s1600/IMG_6425.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJRjBrqKrDrBnnJ4stsE4F3YuAExK7GHP-2hr3BTtOsr8TpC7jYfI-AV-4fuXHKPxSp9BxfEMuBCcHvqAVQJB21FLuzT7xLCTjM7BxYa3JSun4hnJqBrILtQbmfCzyXp-lldmvEYGOwqw/s1600/IMG_6425.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One down, three to go!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Kathy Behrenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10243629070261916327noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649888214528061272.post-14420667046292756952015-01-02T13:06:00.003-08:002015-01-02T13:06:36.348-08:00Game DayActually, Game Day minus one. We are staying tonight down near the start, so we have to leave the house in a few hours. Do we have everything?<br />
<br />
Bike - check (Roger is responsible for checking the condition and lubing, etc, but of course I will go through that all with him to "double check" just as he does for me with the clothes and gear.)<br />
<br />
Clothes - check (it could be quite chilly for the start and the high tomorrow is not expected to be much above 60 degrees. Spectacular riding weather!)<br />
<br />
Helmets, gloves, shoes, booties - check, check, check, check!<br />
<br />
Maps, cue sheets - check, check<br />
<br />
Baggie to keep cue sheet, brevet card and receipts safe and dry - check<br />
<br />
Lights, back-up lights - check (even though Roger says, "we will not need them for this one.")<br />
<br />
Reflective vest and ankle straps - check<br />
<br />
Clothes for after (you don't want to ride home in your chamois!) - check<br />
<br />
Sandwiches, banana, apple/orange slices, bars - check<br />
<br />
Chamois cream - check (oh yeah, check, check and double-check!)<br />
<br />
Camera - check<br />
<br />
ID - check (we ride through Pendleton, so this is a must or we'd be turned back)<br />
<br />
Waiver and registration - check and check<br />
<br />
Check for payment - check!<br />
<br />
And I guess that is it. If we are successful, tomorrow I will be a randonneusse! Kathy Behrenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10243629070261916327noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649888214528061272.post-57968928928417462012015-01-01T21:44:00.000-08:002015-01-01T21:44:45.436-08:00Sleepless nightWhen we joined the RUSA, we got a guide book about randonneuring. I was reading that the other night before bed. Well, that was a mistake! Most of what I read seemed pretty reasonable, sensible, and in line with what Roger has said and I had imagined. But there was this little thing that I had not realized, which for some reason just upset me no end: the control points are only available for a certain span of time. You cannot get there too soon, and you must get there before the close time.<br />
<br />
I don't know why that had not occurred to me. It does make sense, but it threw me into a complete tailspin. In my first calculations about completing the PBP, I had figured we could avoid most of the night-time riding by using the dark to schedule our rest, and riding for long days (it will be August, after all, in the northern half of France - days should be long.) But if we are made to start at 6:30 pm, as the 90-hour folks did four years ago -- AND if the control points are only open for a certain amount of time -- THEN we would be forced to ride through the dark in order to reach them in time. <br />
<br />
In addition, the author posited that, if your goal was the longer distance (that is, the 1200 km PBP or other grand ride) then you should do your 600 km brevet as a "sleepless" event. That's the only way to train properly for the grand event. And I thought NOOO! That's not what I want to do at all!<br />
<br />
Ay yi yi! You would think I had already bought a ticket and paid my fare to Paris, they way this upset me! For heaven's sake, we don't even know if we can handle the intermediate distances yet. Roger says the 300 km is very telling. That's about 200 miles, and that's pretty much what you need to get through each day of the 1200 km PBP, and he hasn't tried to ride that distance in a while. Then, as he put it, to do the 600, you have to do your 300, then get some rest, and do it again the next day. "But the book said you should do it without sleeping" I said. No - that's ridiculous, he said.<br />
<br />
And he's right. It's ridiculous. There's no reason that we need to do anything other than what we need to do. We will, for sure, do some riding through the night. I guess that's inevitable, and if so, then fine. (Of course, if that is the case, then I don't guess it matters whether you are jet-lagged or not when you start. Because who really cares if you are going to be up all night anyway?) <br />
<br />
But we do not need to do an all-nighter just because some guy in a book says so. And we <i>certainly</i> don't need to make any decisions about how we plan to ride PBP right now. And we <i>most certainly</i> do not need to be losing any sleep about this at this point in time! So just calm down, Kathy, and keep those legs turning. That's all you have to do right now!Kathy Behrenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10243629070261916327noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649888214528061272.post-30780513879028021322015-01-01T21:22:00.000-08:002015-01-01T21:22:07.623-08:00Talking about itRoger sent many of our cycling friends an email announcing that we were considering doing this thing, and would be starting by doing this first brevet on Saturday. Now, I am not one to do that sort of thing. Since I have no idea yet whether this will work out or not, I just would not say anything to anyone until I had a little clearer idea of what I was doing. I guess I don't like saying, "oh well - it didn't work out." I don't want to have to share my failures so publicly.<br />
<br />
But, Roger is an event planner, it seems. He can say, "We're going out to Bautista Canyon" and get six folks to come along. He sets up remote trips to the coast, or invites people to join us at the Mammoth century, or Stagecoach, and people come! So this was very natural to him. <br />
<br />"Hey, everyone, here's another thing you can do, and we're going out to do it, so why don't you think about coming out with us?" And that's how it happened. I can totally understand why he did it.<br />
<br />
And maybe, just maybe, I can also imagine that it was a strategic move on his part. Since I have to believe that he understands at least a little bit about how I think, and he's figuring I won't be able to back out if everybody knows about our plans!<br />
<br />
Well, I've got to give this to him: today on the Annual New Year's Day Rubidoux ride, Candy was asking about our ride Saturday, and saying how everyone was so excited about what we are trying to do. Others also asked about our plans as we rode today, and last week. And I guess there is no harm in having a bit of cosmic energy coming your way via the good wishes and excitement of your friends. So, Roger - my hat's off to you! Maybe we will actually get to Paris, and maybe we will not. But we will at least have the support and interest of our friends to help us keep the energy level up while we go about figuring it out.Kathy Behrenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10243629070261916327noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649888214528061272.post-49381574930493670932015-01-01T21:06:00.000-08:002015-01-01T21:06:00.376-08:00Two Hundred KilometersThe first required brevet, at 200 km, should not be terribly difficult for us to complete. It will be further than I have ridden in a single sitting, but not by much. When I first started riding, I planned a trip for us from Phoenix to the Grand Canyon. We had completed the Lake Tahoe century that summer, and were still riding regularly, although not those distances. I figured, having finished the Tahoe ride about 2:30 pm or something like that, that we could easily do the trip in two legs of about 120 miles or so. And I wasn't concerned about that additional distance, because, hey! I'd done 100 miles and felt just fine, so why wouldn't I be able to do two more hours at more or less the same pace and be done by 4:30?<br />
<br />
So I got a room for us in Sedona (about half-way) and our plan was to ride there, stay two nights, then ride on to the Grand Canyon through Oak Creek Canyon. Well, there were a couple of things that I did not consider. One big factor in tour planning is the amount of daylight you have. We did the Tahoe ride in June, with plenty of daytime. Late November, there's just not as much day. We left Phoenix in the dark, but we were at least riding along city streets with lights. Out in the canyon, I just did not feel we should continue once it got dark. I only had one back flasher, and so I gave it to Roger and I stopped at a hotel and tried to find a cab that could ferry me and my bike the rest of the way up the road to our B and B in Sedona. <br />
<br />
Another key factor in touring is the terrain. Now, I was confident that I could ride a good pace across Arizona, since the Tahoe century had had a fair amount of climbing (around 5000 feet, I think), and it was at altitude - around 6500 to 7500 feet. However, I did not consult a topo map of our planned route to Sedona. Nowadays, it's simple to plot any excursion in advance on the computer and see what the climbing requirements will be. We didn't have access to tools like that in 2000, and I completely underestimated how much up and down there would be. I knew the south rim of the Grand Canyon was about 7000 feet, and Phoenix is at 1100, but I did not realize that we would climb and descend the same 1000 feet so many times on the way! Every time the road would turn DOWN and we'd lose the feet we'd just gained I would silently scream, "NOOOOOO! Not again!" Obviously, pacing depends on the amount of climbing you have to do. So that threw my estimates off, also.<br />
<br />
And then there is the issue of food. When you are doing a supported century ride, you stop every 15 to 20 miles and grab something from the rest stop. You can pack your pockets with bars, you can fill up your water bottles with Gatorade, you can cram some peanut butter sandwiches in your mouth and have a banana and be on your way in a few minutes. When you are touring, you have to stop somewhere to eat. Even a quick burrito grab at Taco Bell takes a while. So there is likely to be more time off the bike for a given number of miles ridden when you are handling your own food. That's not a problem, necessarily - it just increases the elapsed time. <br />
<br />
Well, the combination of these three factors meant that I just could not go the entire distance on that first day. I stopped at about 117 miles, and Roger continued to the B and B, and I believe that I did finally reach a cab with a big trunk who came and ferried me in. As far as I can remember, that is my highest daily mileage to date. So this 200 km (which is listed as 125.5 miles) will be my longest ride yet. <br />
<br />
Given that we do know how much climbing to expect, and we have ridden most of these streets before, and we have good lights and reflective clothing if we run into trouble and need the twilight hours, I am confident that we'll be able to complete our ride in the allowed 13 1/2 hours. Even stopping for food! Kathy Behrenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10243629070261916327noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649888214528061272.post-46743558930225467712014-12-29T16:07:00.000-08:002014-12-29T16:07:08.617-08:00Bautista CanyonAh, Bautista Canyon. A storied ride among our club friends. It seems every time we head out there, we end up with more adventure than we bargained for. It's a great training ride - about 90 miles with 4000+ feet of climbing. A good bit of it is flat, and even the canyon climb is pretty gentle. The only steep-ish parts are Redlands Boulevard in the beginning and then Lamb Canyon near the end. For this, you are rewarded with a 20 mile mostly downhill run to home. So whenever we are approaching a century or other long ride, we schedule Bautista Canyon as a warm up ride.<br />
<br />
About a year or so ago, we were on the way out there when the weather started looking iffy. NO MATTER. We are pressing on. By the time we turned for home, the west was definitely looking gloomy. No way we are escaping the rain, I think. It started to drizzle as we climbed Lamb Canyon. It was definitely raining (and cold!) when we had to stop in Beaumont to fix a flat. All of us huddled under a big oak tree, trying to stay warm while Roger helped Vic with his tire. The ride back down San Tim was an all-out cold shower. Everyone was soaked to the bone and freezing, to boot. Except Vickie. Vickie was sporting a brand-new GoreTex jacket and she alone was not suffering! Oh, well. As Mark Friis is fond of saying, "those are the epic rides that you remember." Yes, we do!<br />
<br />
Then, on our next trip out there, Chalmer went down on the way into Hemet. Yikes! Just hit a crack near the curb and that was it. By the time the ambulance came for him, the air was pretty much out of the rest of us. We continued on to the Taco Bell in Hemet to get a bite, but no one wanted to go all the way to the canyon. We limped on home with Chalmer on our minds. <br />
<br />
So, we really had not completed a successful trip to Bautista in a couple of years. I suggested it as a good way to ready ourselves for the brevet this coming Saturday. Roger posted the ride and a few of our friends decided to ride along. Chris and Jeff were new to the ride; they had never gone out that way before. We decided, as a concession to the expected cold, to start at 9:00 am.<br />
<br />
I woke up at 6, worried that we had left the start too late. Days are not long at this time of year. I figured if it took us 6 hours to do the ride at 15 miles an hour, that's a full six hours in the saddle and that alone would get us to 3:00 pm. A few short breaks, a quick taco stop, maybe a flat . . . it would not take much for us to get into the darkening hours. I decided that we would have our headlamp, and since this is training for brevets that might go all night, I guess that's okay. <br />
<br />
But then - we get ready to head to the coffee shop to meet our friends (8:50 am) and the back tire is flat. Slow leak, as it was fine Friday night. So Roger decides we should ride down there and fix it at Stell's, because he does not have time to change it and get us there on time. This feels a bit odd to me, but I do understand. At least we will be able to let them know what's up. As he's changing the gear in preparation to taking off the back tire, it locks up. What's that? First things first: he changes the tire (oh, Stell's no longer has the tire pump out there - I guess someone took it!) Then he realizes that the bolt holding the rack on has gone too far through the brazeon and is hitting the small chain. So we have to ride home to adjust that. Let everyone know we'll be stopping at our house on the way out. Yeesh.<br />
<br />
So we get back home, I get out the pump to make sure we have plenty of air in the tire, he fixes the bolt, and I swing my leg over the bike . . . wheeesh! Tire is completely flat again. Oh, come on! I go back in the house to get a couple more tubes and throw them into the back satchel. It just might be that kind of day! Roger changes it once again, pronouncing the second tube defective right out of the box. Finally we are off - at 9:30! I offered headlamps to the others, just in case, but they were confident we would be back before dark. Me - not so much. <br />
<br />
As it was, that was pretty much the last problem we had. We actually made great time. We did not stop on the way out to Hemet, coming in just under two hours elapsed time. That's probably a record. We told the others that once we hit the canyon, they should go on to the end and then regroup and turn around without us. We'd make a turn once they came back the road. We were only 3/10s of a mile from the end when they caught us, so we were making reasonable time on the climb, as well. Another quick stop at the Taco Bell for more water and then we were off again, this time heading to Lamb Canyon. The winds were with us this time. We flew - at least until we hit the climb. Again, we'd told our friends that they could head on home if they were concerned about the light, but we made it to the top of the canyon about 2:30 and they were waiting for us. Why not? Everyone loves trailing the tandem down San Tim!<br />
<br />
At this point, it looked like we would probably make it home by 3:30. I was pleased. We had one more mechanical - Steve flatted out in the canyon - but even with that we were back to Stell's by 3:45. On the computer, we averaged 15.3 mph. But of course, that's not what counts! I figure we should take a start of 8:50, since that is when Roger and I headed out. So just under 7 hours for 90 miles, or a touring average of 12.8 mph. Just exactly what it needs to be! <br />
<br />
The last question: when we got back for some beer and pizza, would I have been ready to rest for a bit and then go another 35 miles? That's what we will learn this Saturday! I know when I woke up this morning I was not thinking that I felt like doing 200 miles. But hey - sometimes you feel better once you get back on the bike and start those legs turning.<br />
<br />Kathy Behrenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10243629070261916327noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649888214528061272.post-20322076839615492002014-12-24T11:09:00.002-08:002014-12-24T11:09:55.205-08:00Touring average MPH versus rolling MPHSince I started riding, I've kept stats on various aspects of my performance. It started because I was training to complete a century, and the sessions each week with Team in Training got progressively longer, with suggested mid-week workouts to increase our fitness and strength. So it was very natural to have that material as a record of my progress: I put the miles and time on my calendar as a way of tracking progress toward the goal of completing the Tahoe Century in early June. <br />
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Of course, once I completed that event (somewhere, my time and average mph is recorded) I was hooked. We did some additional riding on our way home from Tahoe - I think we climbed Conway Summit from Bridgeport (elevation is naturally written down somewhere in my early log book!) and on it went. <br />
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Some years, I have kept meticulous records of all my rides, as I am part of that group that rides often and long enough where it begins to be something of a binding topic of conversation: "Are you going to hit 10,000 this year?" (Not me! That's Jim James's goal!) Other years, not so much. Roger has all this on his computer because we use a Garmin when we ride and he downloads all the stats after we get home. He usually asks, as we are approaching the end of a ride, "what's our average?" And usually, I reply, "14.5 mph." Or something very close to that. While we are lately creeping up a bit, and yesterday came in with 15.4 mph, I'd say that tandem, pretty much any day of the week, is going to do the hills and valleys around here at just about 14 to 15 miles an hour. Anyway, this all brings me to the question, "how fast do you have to go to complete PBP?" <br />
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I've done some noodling to figure out how we get through 1200 km in 90 hours. Since my brain runs better on "English" than metric, I have translated the kilometers to miles. 1200 km = 744 miles. When we did our bike tour up to Lake Tahoe and back, we rode over 1200 miles at an average of 12.5 miles an hour. That was fully loaded, with 52,000 feet of climbing. So I figure that is a safe value to use as our PBP average mph. We can surely make that if all we are carrying is toiletries, tools and a couple changes of bike clothes. (And the odds are that we can go faster, as our training rides here in Redlands show. But more on that later.)<br />
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The wonderful thing about that particular rate of speed is that it requires you to spend just about 60 hours riding your bike, and leaves you 30 hours for resting. Over the four day period, it seems pretty workable. We would get 7 to 8 hours of rest each night, and we should still be able to come in under the 90 hour time limit. That's what I am banking on. I just don't see the point of riding through the darkness, and it really should not be necessary to do much of it. <br />
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Anyway, this is how I am trying to approach it: ride a reasonable pace, stop every hour to stretch a few minutes, stay rolling for two-thirds of the day, and get off the bike altogether for the other third. That seems doable to me.<br />
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When we were riding home yesterday (42 miles, 2200 feet of climbing, 15.4 average mph!) I started thinking about this plan. I realized that calculating the miles we would cover each day based on an average mph like we usually calculate could put us in trouble. That is, we have set the computer so that it stops recording when the bike is stopped. We only count the time we are moving. This is our "rolling mph" on a bike ride. But obviously, we do stop. We stop all the time. We stop at traffic signals, we stop to take a break, we stop for water. If we are touring, we will stop for meals. So I realized that it's probably pretty important to get a sense of what our "touring mph" is. That would be the average number of miles covered while you are out on the bike, including all your stops. For instance, when did we make it back to the coffee shop yesterday? Take the total time, divide by the miles. That is the value that matters for this long-range cycling. <br />
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Of course, I was just thinking about this, and I didn't make note of the time. But it's fairly consistent that our group will go out and do a 40 mile ride and be back by 11:15 or 11:30. That would be around 13 miles an hour - good enough for my model.<br />
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To test my math, I took another look at my notes. You have to be able to do 200 plus miles a day. I've figured that would take 16 to 17 hours "on the bike" - which is the term I am using for that part of the day that we are dressed, rolling out, and not stopped to shower, change and sleep. But that 200 miles, at our historical "rolling mph" of 14.5, will only require something under 14 hours of rolling time, the way we usually track it. That will leave us with two hours for the stops, water breaks, refueling, etc - and result in the "touring average" of 12.5 miles per hour over the entire period.<br />
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Ya gotta love math! There is just something so comforting about being able to calculate stuff, and know that your numbers do not lie. I can sleep comfortably at night, knowing that we'll have time during the day to eat and rest a bit, as long as we continue to be able to ride 14.5 miles an hour - on average - while the wheels are turning. And that doesn't seem too hard to imagine, at all!<br />
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<br />Kathy Behrenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10243629070261916327noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649888214528061272.post-75465685399337750542014-12-22T18:19:00.001-08:002014-12-22T18:19:50.490-08:00Number 10228Today I filled out the registration form for the January 3rd 200 km brevet presented by the PCH Randonneurs. So I guess I am committed to that one, at least. Roger registered us with the RUSA group - that's the Randonneurs USA, I guess. My number is 10228. I think that number is going to be very important to me this year!<br />
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Thinking that you might be wondering, what is this "randonneur" business, I figured that I should explain. I don't really know myself, to be honest, so I had to look up the word. Randonneur - dictionary.com said, "did you mean LANDOWNER?" No, I didn't. Let's try again. Hmm. There is a translation feature on the site. It's a French word, I suppose, so go French to English and I get: hiker, walker, backpacker. That's not exactly what I'm looking for, I think - since it says nothing about a bike. But I guess that's the gist of it. A randonneur is a traveler. One that travels about and takes care of him or herself.<br />
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On to Wikipedia. God I love that site! Here's what they have to say about it:<br />
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<b style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">Randonneuring</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;"> (also known as </span><b style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Audax_(cycling)" style="background: none; color: #0b0080; text-decoration: none;" title="Audax (cycling)">Audax</a></b><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;"> in the UK, Australia and Brazil) is a long-distance </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cycling" style="background: none rgb(255, 255, 255); color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-decoration: none;" title="Cycling">cycling</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;"> sport with its origins in </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Audax_(cycling)" style="background: none rgb(255, 255, 255); color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-decoration: none;" title="Audax (cycling)">audax cycling</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">. In randonneuring, riders attempt courses of 200 km or more, passing through predetermined "controls" (checkpoints) every few tens of kilometers. Riders aim to complete the course within specified time limits, and receive equal recognition regardless of their finishing order. Riders may travel in groups or alone as they wish, and are expected to be self-sufficient between controls. A randonneuring event is called a </span><b style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">randonée</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;"> or </span><b style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">brevet,</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;"> and a rider who has completed a 200 km event is called a </span><b style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">randonneur</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">.</span><sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-1" style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1; unicode-bidi: -webkit-isolate;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Randonneuring#cite_note-1" style="background: none; color: #0b0080; text-decoration: none; white-space: nowrap;">[1]</a></sup><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;"> </span><sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-2" style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1; unicode-bidi: -webkit-isolate;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Randonneuring#cite_note-2" style="background: none; color: #0b0080; text-decoration: none; white-space: nowrap;">[2]</a></sup><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;"> The international governing body for randonneuring is </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Audax_Club_Parisien" style="background: none rgb(255, 255, 255); color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-decoration: none;" title="Audax Club Parisien">Audax Club Parisien (ACP)</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">, which works with other randonneuring organisations worldwide through </span><a class="new" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Les_Randonneurs_Mondiaux&action=edit&redlink=1" style="background: none rgb(255, 255, 255); color: #a55858; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-decoration: none;" title="Les Randonneurs Mondiaux (page does not exist)">Les Randonneurs Mondiaux (RM)</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">. Randonneuring is popular in France, and has a following in the </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Netherlands" style="background: none rgb(255, 255, 255); color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-decoration: none;" title="Netherlands">Netherlands</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">, </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Belgium" style="background: none rgb(255, 255, 255); color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-decoration: none;" title="Belgium">Belgium</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">, </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_Kingdom" style="background: none rgb(255, 255, 255); color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-decoration: none;" title="United Kingdom">United Kingdom</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">, </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Australia" style="background: none rgb(255, 255, 255); color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-decoration: none;" title="Australia">Australia</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">, </span><a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/USA" style="background: none rgb(255, 255, 255); color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-decoration: none;" title="USA">USA</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">, </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Canada" style="background: none rgb(255, 255, 255); color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-decoration: none;" title="Canada">Canada</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">, </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brazil" style="background: none rgb(255, 255, 255); color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-decoration: none;" title="Brazil">Brazil</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;"> and </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/India" style="background: none rgb(255, 255, 255); color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-decoration: none;" title="India">India</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">.</span><br />
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Okay, so there you go. After we complete the January 3rd randonee, I will be a randonneur! Goodie for me! Kathy Behrenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10243629070261916327noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7649888214528061272.post-67962783638139455342014-12-21T15:43:00.000-08:002014-12-21T15:43:11.120-08:00A journey beginsYesterday I took the first step on a journey that may end with a triumphant return to Paris after cycling 1,200 kilometers from Paris to Brest and back again. What, you say? Ride a bicycle 1,200 km? To what end?<br />
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Well, it goes like this. Since I have known him, certainly well before we had any sort of romantic interest in each other, I have known that Roger rode the Paris-Brest-Paris (PBP) bicycle tour. It came up in some conversation when we were working together; why I knew about it I cannot tell. He's described it more than once as one of the defining achievements of his life. He accomplished this feat in 1987, and trained for it again (possibly 1991?) but broke his collarbone shortly before the ride and could not make the trip. I think maybe that missed opportunity to ride it again has been an un-reconciled key jangling about his pockets for the last quarter-century. <br />
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Anyway, he's mentioned the ride to me more than once. "Wouldn't it be cool to do the PBP on the tandem? It would be the experience of a lifetime." I don't know. Sitting on a bicycle seat for 16 hours straight, then getting up to do it again the next day, and the next? I didn't think so. When these conversations would occur (it may be too much to call them conversations, but for want of a better word, that's what I'll use) I would protest. No - I do not want to ride all night. No - I do not want to sleep in a ditch. No - I do not want to ride nearly 750 miles in a stretch. No, no, no. <br />
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But, he would say - you have 90 hours to do it. It's not a race! We could do it. We would just need to keep a steady pace, and train, and it would be so cool. And of course, he is right. He has always been right about that. Sort of like running a marathon. I know I could run a marathon. I just don't want to. The very thought of putting one foot down in front of the next for 26.2 miles destroys my will, wearies me beyond hope. It's hard to imagine that I could ever, would ever drum up the enthusiasm needed to train for a marathon. <br />
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And that's sort of how I have felt about PBP. I know that we could do it. Maintain a reasonable average pace - 13 miles an hour or so while rolling - and then space out the remaining hours for rest. Come in to the finish in 89 hours and change. No sense speeding around, losing sleep, riding through the night. It's pretty simple, really. Just glue your ass to the seat and keep pedaling 15 to 16 hours, rest for 7 or 8, then repeat three times. Simple!<br />
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So here is what happened. One of our cycling friends here in Redlands mentioned PBP sometime last summer. "It will be held in 2015" Bob said. Uh-hmm. "Wouldn't it be cool to go do it?" Bob said. Uh-hmm. Roger said sure, they could train to do it. I'm in for the ride-along. Annie and I could tour the country side while Bob and Roger numb their fannies for four days. Then Roger says "We could do it on the tandem." But he is talking to Bob. Not me. And I thought, no - no one sits on that tandem with my Roger for this event but me. <br />
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So I ask him to do some research. Put a schedule together. Show me what it would be like to get ready for this, to do the brevets. What would we have to do, what would be have to give up to do it? I won't eliminate the possibility of going out of hand, but I'm not committing, either. Educate me. And then I can decide. <br />
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Well, you would think that he'd have gone off and put something together, but you know - I guess he figured that I was just puffing smoke because he never did any of that. And instead, we began to talk more seriously about one of our other cycling dreams: riding across the country and back. That's where my head has been for the past 6 months or so. I'm thinking ahead, beginning to imagine the packing, starting to figure out how to relinquish duties here in town so that I can be on the road for six months or more next year. <br />
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Then, about a week or so ago, Roger got an email from an old cycling pal of his. He'd run into someone that they used to ride with, and got to thinking about doing PBP again. He needed Roger's help to secure the loan of a bike that he felt he'd need to have in order to inspire himself to train and complete the ride. (Must be some bike!) Anyway, wouldn't it be fun to go over and do it together, one last time? So here we go again. I reminded Roger that he'd never gotten me any information on the brevets, or the training - and this time, he came up with the goods. <br />
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To qualify for the PBP, you must complete a series of increasingly long brevets (which are bike rides, and no, I don't know why they are called that.) Anyway, there is a southern California cycling club that is offering the first length, 200 kilometers (about 125 miles) on January 3. So I say why not? I will do the first brevet with you. Then we'll see what we think. <br />
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I've done lots of century rides, so I figure I can hang in there another 25 miles and do the 200 km. We have plenty of time to complete it - something like 12 hours. It's around here, on roads I have ridden before. And we are planning to do a century with our pals on January 17, so we are going to be ready, anyway. <br />
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And so, yesterday, I rode on my own bike when the club went out. I figure this will be better training for me. We did about 53 miles I think. Lamb Canyon route. It's got about 3,400 feet of climbing, so that's about half of what this brevet will entail. Plus a few extra miles to boot. I had two flats, darn it - and Roger and I got separated, so I had to rely on friends to help with the second change. But that's part of what the PBP is about. You rely on your own resources, you get help from friends, you figure it out. And all the while you just keep those legs turning, turning, turning. <br />
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And so, we are off!Kathy Behrenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10243629070261916327noreply@blogger.com0