A Tisket, A Tasket . . .

My town bike has a basket.

After ordering the thing many months ago, I finally made it into the shop to pick it up. It is a great size (will hold almost exactly 12 bottles of beer) and is also fairly light. Of course, that means I shouldn't load it up too heavily, but I think it will be just perfect for those shopping trips where I can't quite fit all of my items into my messenger bag. Also, the front end of the Kuwahara is not exactly designed to bear a lot of weight, but as long as I drink most of the beer after the ride I should be alright.

While the beer bottles look nice in the basket, they might not be the best thing to put up there. They were a little on the bouncy side. In the upcoming weeks I'll experiment with using the nylon grocery bag I carry around and putting the normal food items up there and the liquids on my back. I think they will be easier to secure.

Back to the beer now. Even though it is almost May, today was around 40 degrees with a stiff northwest wind and semi-frequent flurries. I thought the stout season came to an end a few weeks ago, but I figured I might as well sneak a few more in before moving on to the crisp and refreshing pale ales and pilsners. Cheers.

Horsin' Around

On Saturday Steve and I met for a medium length mixed road ride. The only goals we had were to ride around four hours and stop by the church in Sharon Center to see some of the Iowa City road race action, and we easily accomplished both.

It was a beautifully sunny day, but unfortunately the winds were blowing out of various westerly directions at about 30+ mph. I actually managed to bring a camera on this ride, but I never took it out. I thought about it a few times, but I generally needed two hands on the handlebar. There were even a few moments where I thought I just might get my bike blown out from under me. But we managed to keep it upright. And I have my lack of pictures to prove it.

We rolled through the finish line ahead of a few dropped riders from an unknown category. We gave the full salute and were welcomed by both fans and officials. We didn't have "official" numbers, though. So don't look for us in any results.

After chatting with a few people and watching Jim Cochran sprint to a second place in the masters division, we enjoyed a healthy dose of tailwind and made our way home.

About that time Robin was buying a horse. Yes, a horse. His name is Steen and I got to go see him today. He was a little nervous in his new place, but I think we all bonded nicely.

Steen wanted to run around, but I was a little tired from yesterday's ride and decided to just snap a few pictures.

Coming into Some Form

This morning I woke up with a crazy allergy/sinus headache and the sound of our windows rattling as a rather large thunderstorm passed over us. The rain ended shortly thereafter, and with some coffee, breakfast, and a short spin to class I was feeling better too.

The rest of the day was downright gorgeous. We have now had three days in a row of beautiful, sunny, warm, low wind days. So it was no surprise, then, that tonight was the biggest group ride of the year. A long string of us in shorts and short sleeved jerseys headed south and west of town for the Fry Town loop. It was quite controlled early on and there were some frustrations in a few riders as no one seemed to want to play. But after some persuading from Hopson we got it going.

I did my best to stay near the front and take my pulls. Unfortunately, after one big stop ahead sprint I got gapped off with Duethman. We chased hard and had the group in sight the whole way down Black Diamond Rd. So I didn't quite make it with the group, but a lot of people were behind me, and two days after my dirty century I am feeling rather pleased with my ride.

Throwing My Hat Into The Ring

Yesterday morning Robin and I drove over to a little town called Blue Grass to look at a young white quarter horse. He was big and friendly and I liked him. The recent rains made their pasture way too muddy to ride him, so Robin was a teeny bit disappointed, but he could still be the horse for her.

I was certainly curious to see the horse, but I was also happy to have Robin take me fifty some miles outside of town and let me ride my bike all day. I had briefly looked at some maps and figured I could get myself to Lone Tree. From there I would figure out what to do.

The ride started off very cloudy and foggy. It was a little bit cool too. And the part of Iowa I was in was dead flat. I saw no cars, dogs, or people for over an hour.

As I neared Lone Tree the sun was coming out. And there were more hills. That was nice too. The super flat is a little bit boring. I stopped at the gas station there for some cheesy crackers and looped south with intentions of riding over the ever-popular Tri-County Bridge.

It was grand. The B road just after it was a little less than grand. Slick, soft mud greeted me at the bottom of a steep hill. I didn't think it was too bad, and it wasn't at first. But as I kept grinding it got softer. I had a lot of wheel slippage, but I persevered with the spinning and made it without a dab.

I jumped onto some pavement (up to this point there had been almost no pavement) and rolled into Riverside, the future birthplace of Captain James T. Kirk.


I grabbed a coke and a piece of pizza at the Casey's and refilled my bottles.

It was about two in the afternoon, the wind was still light, and the sun felt great. I couldn't have felt better. With close to sixty miles of gravel in, I decided to keep it up. So I went back south and worked my way west and south and south and west through the little town of Richmond and on towards, but not all the way to, Washington. It was a nice figure eight loop that brought me back to Riverside.

At this point my stomach felt less than ideal. On the last long ride I blamed the sugary sports drinks, on this ride I had less sugar water, but still some. And my stomach was not as upset as the last ride either. So perhaps I should cut back on the sugar water even more? Still time to see.

Anyways, I had a banana and drank some water and pointed my steed towards the hilly dirt roads south. When I got to Hills I knew I had plenty of gravel behind me so I took the pavement in. There were cyclists all over the road and I got lots of smiles and waves.

In the end I was a hair shy of 101 miles and 81 point something of them were on gravel. It took me 6 hours and 45 minutes to do it, including my three brief stops. Sounds kind of fast, but I had a lot of gentle breeze and a lot of favorable tailwinds thanks to Robin letting me take my bike on the horse viewing trip.

Here is a map for those of you who like maps.

So now I have one dirty century complete. Eleven more will get me one of these:

Tired

I rode a hundred miles today. Most of it on gravel. It was fun, but I'm too tired to write the report. You will have to wait until tomorrow.

The No Sleepies

I find myself unable to sleep tonight. Perhaps I have a mind full of stuff. Or maybe it is because I have been riding a lot these past few weeks, and then did almost nothing for four days in a row.

Tomorrow is supposed to be nice, though. And I'm going to follow the lovely Robin to look at horses and then hopefully get a nice long bike ride back to town. I hope I am very tired afterwards.

Weekend Update (long version)

It has been a truly tremendous weekend. After an extremely wet week, I managed to ride my bike twice, hang out with friends, and not do any homework. How did I manage to skip the homework you might ask? I will just say that my method for getting work done is not advised.

Yesterday morning we woke up to a very chilly and cloudy day. The weather people said there was a good chance for snow/ice/rain mix later that afternoon, so I spent some time convincing myself that I should go out and ride early. By the time I finished my breakfast and got dressed it was half past nine. And as soon as I stepped outside snow pellets were falling on me. Shit.

But it wasn't raining, and I spent so much time finding my warm cycling clothes and putting them on, so I decided to ride anyways. This was the right decision to make. The sky continued spit frozen stuff off and on for the duration of my two hour ride. Despite this, I had a wonderful time and saw three other riders who looked like they were having as much fun as me. One of them was Steve. We rode together and chatted for a few minutes, but I was on my way in and he was heading out, so we parted ways.

The afternoon was nice and relaxing. I read all the pre-race coverage for Paris-Roubaix as I watched the snow and ice fall outside. Later, Robin and I rode down to the Bike Library to look for a front derailleur and hang out with Steve and Cody. We scored a slightly used fd and made plans to meet Steve and Cody at the Red Avocado for dinner. From time to time we let them borrow one of our cars. They like to repay us with a nice dinner. We think this is slightly unfair, since we are not put out at all by them using our car and because we have so much fun at dinner.

When we got home Robin and I were excited to try some Sherry. Port is one of our all time favorite adult beverages, so we decided to give Sherry a shot too. They do have a lot in common, but if you really love Port for its complex mix of sweet and dry flavors and a wonderfully full bodied aftertaste, then you might not like Sherry. I would say Sherry is more like cough syrup. Only sweeter. There will be no more Sherry for us.

Sunday brought nice sunny weather when I woke up. It was cold, but the lack of frozen rain was very nice. I was meeting Steve at the park at 8, so I quickly ate breakfast and read the live updates for the first 180km of Paris-Roubaix. There were some crashes, of course, but most of the favorites were at the front and making it exciting.

Steve and I had a decidedly easier ride. We hit a couple of gravel sections, but mostly rode pavement. We encountered a few reckless drivers, but we made it back safe and sound. And Steve even scored a nice yellow-handled screwdriver. I was slightly jealous, as I actually spent much of yesterday's ride looking for road finds.

In the afternoon I enjoyed some really good coffee, read about Boonen's very exciting second victory at Pari-Roubaix, put up a very exciting gift from the wonderful Robin (read about it here). And tonight we are eating chicken enchiladas with red sauce, made more as a casserole. Steve and I decided blogs are much better with pictures, so if you've read this far, here is your reward.

Ok, so it isn't really that exciting. But I can tell you that the reward is better tasted than seen.

I Am One Year Old Today!

Booksbikesbeer has been around for a year. And a good year it has been. Books were read (though I didn't write much about too many of them), bikes were ridden, and beers were drunk.

I decided to celebrate by sleeping in a little bit and then enjoying some nice coffee while reading the live updates from de Ronde Van Vlaanderen. It was a truly exciting race. There was sun, rain, snow, hail, tons of crashes, and the biggest race in Belgium was won by the current Belgium Champion.

Stijn Devolder, powering his way to a solo finish in the Belgium Champion jersey. It doesn't get much better than that.

After the race and some breakfast Robin and I went out for a nice hilly loop on our road bikes. We made sure to hit some brick streets to keep the spirit of the classics alive. It was mostly sunny and very windy and we thoroughly enjoyed it all.

So, a big thanks to those who read this. I have had fun with it, and I hope you have too.

Cheers,
bbb

First Century of the Season and Past Racing Memories

Yesterday morning I was pleasantly surprised to find an email in my inbox telling me my outrageously long take home quiz for my seminar class was canceled. I decided to celebrate by riding my bike all day long. The temperatures were supposed to be in the mid 50s, but it was very windy and closer to 40 when I left the house a little before 11. So I made sure to bring some extra food and my wind jacket.

I started riding north and west out towards Oxford. It was slow going and I felt sluggish, but I just kept spinning and eating. From Oxford I continued on to the Amana Colonies via the "Highway 6 Trail." In the middle of a weekday, the traffic was not bad at all, but how it got the description "trail," I will never know.

I went through main town Amana (skipping the brewery this time) and continued on north. I had never ridden this way before. Highway 151 was a little busier than Highway 6, but it had a much bigger shoulder. I only rode it for a few miles before turning back east and enjoying a wonderful tailwind. The sun was also feeling warmer and I was finally able to unzip my jacket.

I was on the main road heading into Swisher and then Shueyville, and after a few miles I came across the mile markers from the time trial Conn Day holds out there. This was the sight of my very first bike race. It happened way back in October of 1999. Lee Venteicher had befriended me on the Iowa City group rides and gave me a ride to the race. On the ride up, I distinctly remember him saying, with all seriousness, that I could possibly win the race. I don't remember what my response was, but I do know it included a very puzzled look, as I was yet to finish a group ride with the actual group.

In the out-and-back 20k time trial, I had one of the middle start positions. I was riding hard in the beginning, mostly to warm by body up, and I was feeling pretty ok. But at some point before the turn around, when I was shifting from the big ring into the small ring, the chain fell off the ring to the inside of the frame, was snagged by the big ring and looped all the way around the crankset, finally jamming into the chainstay. I know it is hard to picture, but the chain basically made a figure eight. It took me about ten whole minutes to wrench the chain free. Luckily the frame only received a few minor scratches, and I was able to finish the race. Needless to say, I did not win.

Thankfully it was one of those three-part Conn Day races, and we still had match sprints up a big hill and a circuit race left. I remember being very pleased with the hill sprints as I made it into the final four. In the circuit race I finished somewhere in the top 10. I don't remember my overall race placing, but I do remember that Lee won.

With Friday's strong tailwind, I was probably riding into Swisher faster than I was in that race. It was a good feeling. But I was starting to get quite hungry, and I had eaten all of my bars. I took a left at the Shueyville intersection hoping that it led to the Casey's (and pizza) that I remembered. It did not. The Casey's must have been in Ely. So I just continued north and looped around to hit Ely while heading back south. This, incidentally, was the loop of the only road race I have ever won.

Also a Conn Day production, the Ely Road Race was an all category race of maybe 40 miles. It was sometime in the Spring of 2001, and my Cannondale-Midwest teammates and I decided to ride out from Iowa City. On the ride to the race, Lee, Thad, Josh, and Jim all decided that I would be the team leader for the race. This was a little surprising, since all of those guys were faster than me, but they pretty much left me with no choice.

The first lap started off at a hard but doable pace. After a couple of miles someone attacked and got a good gap. I felt pretty good and, having no idea what it meant to be a team leader, decided to bridge up to the lone breakaway rider. I made without anyone following and we were actually able to extend our lead over the next few miles.

But as we were nearing the end of the first lap I noticed that my front tire had a slow leak. As this was a small race with no support, I drifted back to the pack to see if my teammates had any bright ideas. We figured I could make it to the next corner, and hoped that some kind of wheel would be there.

And right we were. One woman came thinking she might race but decided to volunteer instead. I rolled up to her and begged for her wheel and she was more than happy to donate it. Lee, being the extraordinarily unselfish team rider that he is, decided to wait with me. Trying not to panic, I changed the wheel, and we proceeded to chase.

It took a few hilly miles, but we were able to get back on. At this point, my teammates proceeded to launch attacks. One by one they would jump away from the pack, and the rest of us would wait for someone else to chase them down. This was usually Jim Cochran. With a few miles to go Josh got caught, and I jumped very hard and got a good gap. I was able to hold it, but just barely. I won by about 8 or 10 seconds and I was followed by Thad and Lee, making it a 1-2-3 for our team.

But on Friday there was no rush, so I just cruised through the finish line and opted to forgo the victory salute. I had just finished some pizza and a coke, the sun was shining, and I had plenty of miles to occupy the rest of my afternoon. I took a detour through Lake McBride State Park, rode out to Sutliff and its 111 year old bridge (again, I skipped the beer), and then headed back home through Solon and then good old Sugar Bottom Rd. 101 miles and 6 hours of reliving the past.