Monroe Harbor 06:20
By 07:00 the sky was asphalt grey. At 07:05 sheets of rain where drenching downtown Chicago. Fortunately, I was already at Intelligentsia enjoying a proper double espresso.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Good Morning
Belmont Harbor 05:15
Monroe Harbor 06:20
By 07:00 the sky was asphalt grey. At 07:05 sheets of rain where drenching downtown Chicago. Fortunately, I was already at Intelligentsia enjoying a proper double espresso.
Monroe Harbor 06:20
By 07:00 the sky was asphalt grey. At 07:05 sheets of rain where drenching downtown Chicago. Fortunately, I was already at Intelligentsia enjoying a proper double espresso.
Monday, August 2, 2010
It Hurts So Good
Flying
What a difference an hour makes. My weekend rides typically begin at 6am - I roll out of Roscoe Village Bikes with a few friends and we make our way north. However, Saturday we gifted ourselves an extra hour of shuteye and it changed the whole day.
What I had expected to be three of us riding tempo instantaneously became six, when three more guys where lingering out side the shop. Austin on his CX bike, Alex, back on the bike after a nasty crash, and Hemme, with some "Don't worry, I raced, put in an extra 50 miles, and drank a lot of beer yesterday" story about how he promised not to crush us.
15 minutes later the growing group trend continued when we saw two Half Acre kits up the road. Hemme turned the screws and we made the catch to discover Zach and Sean. Zach and I have been talking about trying to ride together all year - and as luck would have it, there we were, on the same ride. This extra hour was already having a dramatic effect on my ride.
But hey, why stop at eight guys. At a red light in Evanston the Judson ride came by and we saw a few familiar face. Lew, from Rhythm Racing calls me out, and Alex seems to know half the guys so we catch onto the back of Judson when the light turns. Like Zach, Lew and I have been trying to find a way to ride together, but my early schedule doesn't jive with Lew's late schedule. The day was shaping up to be good, real good.
Of course, this was supposed to be a tempo day with a couple of friends. Now I was in the tail end of one of Chicago's fastest group rides. 10 minutes later me and 70 guys are ripping along, at one point I look down and were doing 35mph. BTW, after an 18 month hiatus I've got a computer on my bike.
A few miles past Highland Park the fractured remains of our original eight peel off for some hill work around Fort Sheridan. Ouch.
At this point everyone is feeling a little beat up so Hemme settles in up front and pulls us south at a steady 23/24mph. I'm freaked by two things about this little fact. First, Hemme is without a computer but keeps the speed super consistent, second, this is supposed to be his easy pace...
Enter the scooter. On Sheridan Road, just south of Tower we open it up a little more, 26, 27, then over our left shoulder we hear the droning buzz of a scooter. Hemme doesn't think twice and calmly pulls in behind the driver. I've motor paced a Jeep and a landscaping trailer with mixed results this year in the same place, but this time the driver was cool with us. Game on.
We hit 30 and Hemme is trying to get the guy to go faster but no dice, so I jump off and give it my all to escape. I pull by and maintain for about 30 seconds until my legs start to fade and the train comes by me. I burn one more match to catch back on and we go for a while longer before the scooter pulls off the road. Hot damn! That was fun.
Somewhere near Devon Hemme declares his intentions to finish his ride at bake. It's important to know Mike Hemme takes food seriously, and when he starts talking about how it was started by someone from the Ritz and it's been a long time since he tasted a better use of butter I was happy to give it a try. After digging into a heirloom tomato tart, a savory scone with sweet jam and some of Hemme's super crazy delicous muffin with cream and fruit I was sold. If you're cruising around Wicker Park and need a treat - stop by bake.
Had I rolled out for my normal 6am ride my day would have been so different...
Source: letterlust
What a difference an hour makes. My weekend rides typically begin at 6am - I roll out of Roscoe Village Bikes with a few friends and we make our way north. However, Saturday we gifted ourselves an extra hour of shuteye and it changed the whole day.
What I had expected to be three of us riding tempo instantaneously became six, when three more guys where lingering out side the shop. Austin on his CX bike, Alex, back on the bike after a nasty crash, and Hemme, with some "Don't worry, I raced, put in an extra 50 miles, and drank a lot of beer yesterday" story about how he promised not to crush us.
15 minutes later the growing group trend continued when we saw two Half Acre kits up the road. Hemme turned the screws and we made the catch to discover Zach and Sean. Zach and I have been talking about trying to ride together all year - and as luck would have it, there we were, on the same ride. This extra hour was already having a dramatic effect on my ride.
But hey, why stop at eight guys. At a red light in Evanston the Judson ride came by and we saw a few familiar face. Lew, from Rhythm Racing calls me out, and Alex seems to know half the guys so we catch onto the back of Judson when the light turns. Like Zach, Lew and I have been trying to find a way to ride together, but my early schedule doesn't jive with Lew's late schedule. The day was shaping up to be good, real good.
Of course, this was supposed to be a tempo day with a couple of friends. Now I was in the tail end of one of Chicago's fastest group rides. 10 minutes later me and 70 guys are ripping along, at one point I look down and were doing 35mph. BTW, after an 18 month hiatus I've got a computer on my bike.
A few miles past Highland Park the fractured remains of our original eight peel off for some hill work around Fort Sheridan. Ouch.
At this point everyone is feeling a little beat up so Hemme settles in up front and pulls us south at a steady 23/24mph. I'm freaked by two things about this little fact. First, Hemme is without a computer but keeps the speed super consistent, second, this is supposed to be his easy pace...
Enter the scooter. On Sheridan Road, just south of Tower we open it up a little more, 26, 27, then over our left shoulder we hear the droning buzz of a scooter. Hemme doesn't think twice and calmly pulls in behind the driver. I've motor paced a Jeep and a landscaping trailer with mixed results this year in the same place, but this time the driver was cool with us. Game on.
We hit 30 and Hemme is trying to get the guy to go faster but no dice, so I jump off and give it my all to escape. I pull by and maintain for about 30 seconds until my legs start to fade and the train comes by me. I burn one more match to catch back on and we go for a while longer before the scooter pulls off the road. Hot damn! That was fun.
Somewhere near Devon Hemme declares his intentions to finish his ride at bake. It's important to know Mike Hemme takes food seriously, and when he starts talking about how it was started by someone from the Ritz and it's been a long time since he tasted a better use of butter I was happy to give it a try. After digging into a heirloom tomato tart, a savory scone with sweet jam and some of Hemme's super crazy delicous muffin with cream and fruit I was sold. If you're cruising around Wicker Park and need a treat - stop by bake.
Had I rolled out for my normal 6am ride my day would have been so different...
Monday, July 26, 2010
I Don't Care - All Natural, Jiffy, Peter Pan - Just Make It Smooth
Extreme
On Saturday Ruby and I checked out some wild BMX action at the Dew Tour. These BMX kids are crazy smooth. When Nys bunny hops a barrier we all get giddy, but when a 16 year old rocks a 1080 Turn Down off a six foot kicker and lands ninja quite ten feet from you face there is just no way to compare the two. A big old fat "What the fuck!" is all I could piece together in my head. Even after two hours of course side action Ruby and I were mesmerized. Check out some of the action here.
The gear head in me also noticed a lot of ti spokes. Seemed strange until I heard an interview of a PRO talking about how much he liked the way they looked. Kids.
BTW, check out Part II from the the Boston Globe's TdF cover in The Big Picture.
On Saturday Ruby and I checked out some wild BMX action at the Dew Tour. These BMX kids are crazy smooth. When Nys bunny hops a barrier we all get giddy, but when a 16 year old rocks a 1080 Turn Down off a six foot kicker and lands ninja quite ten feet from you face there is just no way to compare the two. A big old fat "What the fuck!" is all I could piece together in my head. Even after two hours of course side action Ruby and I were mesmerized. Check out some of the action here.
The gear head in me also noticed a lot of ti spokes. Seemed strange until I heard an interview of a PRO talking about how much he liked the way they looked. Kids.
BTW, check out Part II from the the Boston Globe's TdF cover in The Big Picture.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Rest Day
Will power
For all of us used to viewing Tour photography in low res on cyclingnews.com, velonews.com etc. I gift you this link to The Boston Globe's, The Big Picture section. While you're pining for tomorrows battle, enjoy these beautiful shots from the first half of the race.
Function
Un-rest-day-like, I met up with Hemme, Ben, and some friendly Half Acre guys for coffee after everyone suffered in their own private hells masked with the unassuming name of "My Workout." I love the bikes of fast men like Hemme and Ben, they have sweet hi-po bikes set up for getting faster, not looking faster - frame pumps, mismatch wheels, various computers and their associated wires, grim. Standing still the bikes are a little gorky and unassuming - at speed your imagination erases the training paraphernalia and replaces it with your jealous aspirations.
For all of us used to viewing Tour photography in low res on cyclingnews.com, velonews.com etc. I gift you this link to The Boston Globe's, The Big Picture section. While you're pining for tomorrows battle, enjoy these beautiful shots from the first half of the race.
Function
Un-rest-day-like, I met up with Hemme, Ben, and some friendly Half Acre guys for coffee after everyone suffered in their own private hells masked with the unassuming name of "My Workout." I love the bikes of fast men like Hemme and Ben, they have sweet hi-po bikes set up for getting faster, not looking faster - frame pumps, mismatch wheels, various computers and their associated wires, grim. Standing still the bikes are a little gorky and unassuming - at speed your imagination erases the training paraphernalia and replaces it with your jealous aspirations.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Horribly Hilly Hundreds
Friday
21:00 Rollout - I hit the road for my 4th year at the Horribly Hilly Hundreds. I'm meeting up with some of the RVBR guys and an old friend in Madison. The event always delivers. Its roads are a bulk of the proposed 2016 Olympic course, part of the Madison Ironman, and were featured last year in a Rapha Continental ride. No one completes the course wanting for more, except a few Ironmen-to-be who feel compelled to swap shoes and eek out a run afterwords just to erase any chance of leaving lovely Blue Mounds, WI with a smile on their face.
22:00 Deluge - The threat of rain materializes into a traffic halting display of wind, water and voltage. I average 30 mph behind a semi for nearly an hour.
23:30 The Peoples Hotel - This year I try out a new travel/sleeping arrangement to ensure I arrive at the start on time and rested. I arrive in the parking lot of Mount Horeb High School where I intend to get six hours of sleep in my VW. In years past I tried various combinations of rollout times and sleeping accommodations and was never able to get more than three or four hours of shuteye before the ride. I thought I had a surefire plan to beat that measly record.
Saturday
02:20 Fire Drill - I was in a deep, satisfying sleep in the back of my car - windows cracked, a cool 65 degrees with a light breeze keeping my three season bag comfy. When out of the darkness a huge blaring fire truck parks 100 feet from my car. Sigh. Apparently the fire alarm went off in the high school. An hour later it's quite and I'm asleep.
05:30 Damn it's Bright - The sun is up and so am I. Sigh. I think I got about four hours of disjointed sleep. Not what I wanted before a 68 mile ride in the hilliest corner or Wisconsin.
07:30 An Embarrassing Display - Mike and Chris of RVBR and our friend Randy drop into the valley from atop the 1200' peak of Blue Mounds State Park where the event culminates and our cars are parked. I know I picked on Ironmen earlier, but at least they're tough. A quarter of the way down the road from the peak there were two gravel sections, each about 100' long. Nothing treacherous, nothing step, nothing to worry about for anyone with enough experience to dare the Horribly Hilly - so how come 90% of the participants walked the sections?! Come on roadies, step it up a little. It was tamped down gravel. In half the world it would have been called a paved road. Is this acceptable roadie etiquette? I think not.
08:15 Lost No More - Last year my friend and I made every wrong turn imaginable. This year I was error free and got to ride the first nasty climb of the course. It felt good. I kept a solid tempo up the 700 vertical foot jaunt and wasn't deterred by the 18% gradient. It was going to be a good day.
09:00" Say Cheese Curds" - We stop to take a picture, l to r, Randy, Mike and Chris. After logging thousands of miles in and around Chicago it's always a treat to get out in the county.
12:00 Clear Signals - Unlike last year, as I approaching the final climb I was feeling good. No cramping, no excuses, just the will to clean the last three miles and 900' of elevation in one strong push.
12:?? Finish with Nothing - Back in the 90's one of my friends who had just started racing for the University of Missouri taught me to finish with nothing. Race or not - always finish strong. I've really taken this to heart. Every cross race, every Saturday sprint, whether I have much to give or not, I give it.
The beauty of riding the same route each year means now I can anticipate the most difficult sections. When I new I was entering the last 100 meters, where all the family members hang out to cheer you on over then last 23% pitch, I was able to drop a handful of gears. I flew towards the finish much to the surprise of the labored, red, sweaty faces of my fellow participants. 20 feet after the finish line I was laid out in the shade loving the euphoric emptiness in my body. I didn't leave a thing on top of that hill and it hurt so good.
Really? You Walked it Both Ways? - I'd venture a guess that a third of the participents walk a significant portion of the last hill. That's how it goes for a lot of us Mid Westerners who never climb anything taller than an overpass. But what struck me was all the guys who were riding the hill, had the capacity to clean the whole thing, but dismounted, and even shouldered their bikes to cross the gravel sections. These guys have probably been busy all week lying to their friends and saying they road the whole thing - they didn't. Am I'm making too big a deal out of this?
Nicest Ride Award - Someone showed up on this tricked out ride. I've got more detailed shots of the rack set up if anyone wants to see them. I couldn't tell if the rack was custom made or not, but it was dialed in. The fork and bars went 90 degrees clockwise and the front wheel mounted on the very outside. Trick, trick, trick.
03:30 BK N TIME - On my drive home last year I saw a jacked up Delorean. This year the highway freak show was a trailer with Shrinermobiles form the year 2020.
Word Up - A big thanks to the organizers, volunteers, and residence of Blue Mounds that make the Horribly Hilly Hundreds such a great event year after year. I'd tell everyone to register, but the 1000+ spots fill up in minutes and I don't want to be left out next year.
21:00 Rollout - I hit the road for my 4th year at the Horribly Hilly Hundreds. I'm meeting up with some of the RVBR guys and an old friend in Madison. The event always delivers. Its roads are a bulk of the proposed 2016 Olympic course, part of the Madison Ironman, and were featured last year in a Rapha Continental ride. No one completes the course wanting for more, except a few Ironmen-to-be who feel compelled to swap shoes and eek out a run afterwords just to erase any chance of leaving lovely Blue Mounds, WI with a smile on their face.
22:00 Deluge - The threat of rain materializes into a traffic halting display of wind, water and voltage. I average 30 mph behind a semi for nearly an hour.
23:30 The Peoples Hotel - This year I try out a new travel/sleeping arrangement to ensure I arrive at the start on time and rested. I arrive in the parking lot of Mount Horeb High School where I intend to get six hours of sleep in my VW. In years past I tried various combinations of rollout times and sleeping accommodations and was never able to get more than three or four hours of shuteye before the ride. I thought I had a surefire plan to beat that measly record.
Saturday
02:20 Fire Drill - I was in a deep, satisfying sleep in the back of my car - windows cracked, a cool 65 degrees with a light breeze keeping my three season bag comfy. When out of the darkness a huge blaring fire truck parks 100 feet from my car. Sigh. Apparently the fire alarm went off in the high school. An hour later it's quite and I'm asleep.
05:30 Damn it's Bright - The sun is up and so am I. Sigh. I think I got about four hours of disjointed sleep. Not what I wanted before a 68 mile ride in the hilliest corner or Wisconsin.
07:30 An Embarrassing Display - Mike and Chris of RVBR and our friend Randy drop into the valley from atop the 1200' peak of Blue Mounds State Park where the event culminates and our cars are parked. I know I picked on Ironmen earlier, but at least they're tough. A quarter of the way down the road from the peak there were two gravel sections, each about 100' long. Nothing treacherous, nothing step, nothing to worry about for anyone with enough experience to dare the Horribly Hilly - so how come 90% of the participants walked the sections?! Come on roadies, step it up a little. It was tamped down gravel. In half the world it would have been called a paved road. Is this acceptable roadie etiquette? I think not.
08:15 Lost No More - Last year my friend and I made every wrong turn imaginable. This year I was error free and got to ride the first nasty climb of the course. It felt good. I kept a solid tempo up the 700 vertical foot jaunt and wasn't deterred by the 18% gradient. It was going to be a good day.
09:00" Say Cheese Curds" - We stop to take a picture, l to r, Randy, Mike and Chris. After logging thousands of miles in and around Chicago it's always a treat to get out in the county.
12:00 Clear Signals - Unlike last year, as I approaching the final climb I was feeling good. No cramping, no excuses, just the will to clean the last three miles and 900' of elevation in one strong push.
12:?? Finish with Nothing - Back in the 90's one of my friends who had just started racing for the University of Missouri taught me to finish with nothing. Race or not - always finish strong. I've really taken this to heart. Every cross race, every Saturday sprint, whether I have much to give or not, I give it.
The beauty of riding the same route each year means now I can anticipate the most difficult sections. When I new I was entering the last 100 meters, where all the family members hang out to cheer you on over then last 23% pitch, I was able to drop a handful of gears. I flew towards the finish much to the surprise of the labored, red, sweaty faces of my fellow participants. 20 feet after the finish line I was laid out in the shade loving the euphoric emptiness in my body. I didn't leave a thing on top of that hill and it hurt so good.
Really? You Walked it Both Ways? - I'd venture a guess that a third of the participents walk a significant portion of the last hill. That's how it goes for a lot of us Mid Westerners who never climb anything taller than an overpass. But what struck me was all the guys who were riding the hill, had the capacity to clean the whole thing, but dismounted, and even shouldered their bikes to cross the gravel sections. These guys have probably been busy all week lying to their friends and saying they road the whole thing - they didn't. Am I'm making too big a deal out of this?
Nicest Ride Award - Someone showed up on this tricked out ride. I've got more detailed shots of the rack set up if anyone wants to see them. I couldn't tell if the rack was custom made or not, but it was dialed in. The fork and bars went 90 degrees clockwise and the front wheel mounted on the very outside. Trick, trick, trick.
03:30 BK N TIME - On my drive home last year I saw a jacked up Delorean. This year the highway freak show was a trailer with Shrinermobiles form the year 2020.
Word Up - A big thanks to the organizers, volunteers, and residence of Blue Mounds that make the Horribly Hilly Hundreds such a great event year after year. I'd tell everyone to register, but the 1000+ spots fill up in minutes and I don't want to be left out next year.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Material Value
Craftsman
Aaron showing some skills. With this level of polish there is nowhere to hid imperfections. This is going to build up into a beautiful new COURAGE.
Another great reason to love steel - you can bend is back. Last week I was riding in a six man paceline enjoying a huge tailwind. Suddenly someone yells, "gravel!" Bang, one after the other we bunny hop a big dug out section of road. I land and get back on the gas but the cranks don't want to turn. I glance down expecting a dropped chain, but instead find my front derailleur pointed north-northwest. Scheisse! Bent front hanger.
Turns out I'm able to loosen it and spin back to Roscoe Village Bikes in the little ring. Hesitant to test my feel for when the hanger will yield versus spring back I let John work his magic and it's bent back and readjusted in 2 minutes. Word.
Repaired
Aaron showing some skills. With this level of polish there is nowhere to hid imperfections. This is going to build up into a beautiful new COURAGE.
Another great reason to love steel - you can bend is back. Last week I was riding in a six man paceline enjoying a huge tailwind. Suddenly someone yells, "gravel!" Bang, one after the other we bunny hop a big dug out section of road. I land and get back on the gas but the cranks don't want to turn. I glance down expecting a dropped chain, but instead find my front derailleur pointed north-northwest. Scheisse! Bent front hanger.
Turns out I'm able to loosen it and spin back to Roscoe Village Bikes in the little ring. Hesitant to test my feel for when the hanger will yield versus spring back I let John work his magic and it's bent back and readjusted in 2 minutes. Word.
Repaired
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Nutrition
Jet fuel
To say I'm a little slower and a little softer than I was last year at this time would be an understatement. However, I started to pay closer attention to my nutrition on and off the bike and I think its helping.
A couple of weeks ago I was locked on to Debbie Dust going mach speed on a nice straight stretch of Green Bay Road when she opened it up. I do not ride with a cyclometer it's not clear how fast we were going - but my eye's were about to pop out of my head and a few days later she set a new course record and a new personal best in a 20K TT - so let's call it 30 mph. I held on, barely, but a few miles later I was all alone - out of gas.
Last weekend, determined to hang on all day, I focused on fueling. As an experiment I ate a caffeinated Clif Shot every 45 minutes. Magic. I held on all day, and even pulled passed Alex at nearly 30mph after he had escaped the group while drafting a jeep.
Lesson learned. Eat.
And oh boy have I been eating. With the kids it's not always easy to escape for a long ride, but we do a lot of fun family stuff at home, like cooking. A few weeks ago I read an article in the NYTs about burgers. It lead me to try grinding my own meat. Hallelujah!
Last Sunday Ruby and I pulled out the Kitchenaid to make some lean, spicy Italian sausages to grill up. Ruby loves the meat grinder because its just like her Playdough extruder, I love it because it's easy and makes every ground meat product deliciously fresh. I've also become a bit hyper sensitive to what is in my food - I want to know. When you buy a two pound hunk of pork shoulder and add all the spices you know what you're eating.
Long story short. Fennel, garlic, paprika, red pepper, parsley, and the obligatory salt and pepper converted a dull block of protein into a low fat Italian grill fest.
You need a little fat for the grill - this was about 20%
Flavor!
Roll'm if you got'm
Smelling good!
Served with fresh pomodoro, grilled asparagus with a garlic and pistachio mash, and a buttery white wine - lunch is on
BTW, my bathroom rehab that started in October 09 wrapped up a few weeks ago. That took forever. And went like this: Flooded, insurance catastrophe, asshole neighbor, construction zone, spend too much money, contractor messed up, contractor messed up again, asshole neighbor, lawyer?, spent too much money, contractor messed up, insurance catastrophe, finished bathroom.
No, I don't shave my legs
To say I'm a little slower and a little softer than I was last year at this time would be an understatement. However, I started to pay closer attention to my nutrition on and off the bike and I think its helping.
A couple of weeks ago I was locked on to Debbie Dust going mach speed on a nice straight stretch of Green Bay Road when she opened it up. I do not ride with a cyclometer it's not clear how fast we were going - but my eye's were about to pop out of my head and a few days later she set a new course record and a new personal best in a 20K TT - so let's call it 30 mph. I held on, barely, but a few miles later I was all alone - out of gas.
Last weekend, determined to hang on all day, I focused on fueling. As an experiment I ate a caffeinated Clif Shot every 45 minutes. Magic. I held on all day, and even pulled passed Alex at nearly 30mph after he had escaped the group while drafting a jeep.
Lesson learned. Eat.
And oh boy have I been eating. With the kids it's not always easy to escape for a long ride, but we do a lot of fun family stuff at home, like cooking. A few weeks ago I read an article in the NYTs about burgers. It lead me to try grinding my own meat. Hallelujah!
Last Sunday Ruby and I pulled out the Kitchenaid to make some lean, spicy Italian sausages to grill up. Ruby loves the meat grinder because its just like her Playdough extruder, I love it because it's easy and makes every ground meat product deliciously fresh. I've also become a bit hyper sensitive to what is in my food - I want to know. When you buy a two pound hunk of pork shoulder and add all the spices you know what you're eating.
Long story short. Fennel, garlic, paprika, red pepper, parsley, and the obligatory salt and pepper converted a dull block of protein into a low fat Italian grill fest.
You need a little fat for the grill - this was about 20%
Flavor!
Roll'm if you got'm
Smelling good!
Served with fresh pomodoro, grilled asparagus with a garlic and pistachio mash, and a buttery white wine - lunch is on
BTW, my bathroom rehab that started in October 09 wrapped up a few weeks ago. That took forever. And went like this: Flooded, insurance catastrophe, asshole neighbor, construction zone, spend too much money, contractor messed up, contractor messed up again, asshole neighbor, lawyer?, spent too much money, contractor messed up, insurance catastrophe, finished bathroom.
No, I don't shave my legs
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