kurthiggins.com

Boston trip, or how I “pahked my cah bah the wahtah”

Unfortunately the photos in this slideshow are in REVERSE chronological order. I haven’t figured out how to have Flickr stop doing that.

Some notes about this slideshow:

• Click on any photo to get title and comments.
• Then click on “open photo in new window” to add a comment if you’d like.
• Move the cursor to the top of the slideshow to get pause/play controls.
• Move the cursor to the bottom to get the thumbnails.
• Most of my photos on Flickr also have map information, so you can see where I took them on a map. This set’s map is available here. Go ahead! It’s fun.

Day two of getting up at 3am. Ugh. Day one was the 300km ride. On the road by 3:24. Double-ugh.

I love traveling on the company dime. This day was a $200 mileage check dangling in front of me. (Minus the $50 or so in gas.) Plus it’s a day out of the ordinary. Now, I’m not going to get all “live life to its fullest because you might die tomorrow” but I think it’s good to keep that mentality at least on deck if not at bat. (Look at that! I used a sports metaphor! Will wonders never cease?!)

My company wanted me out there to provide tech support for the big flat screen TV they rented to show a looped presentation in their booth at the Blue show. I was confident they wouldn’t have any trouble, but, whatever. If they want to pay me for a lot of driving, who am I to argue? It was a beautiful day, bright and sunny and warm. A good day for doing something out of the ordinary. (Kelly M., you need fight whatever pull your blog tagline has on your life)

After arriving around 7:30 or 8:00am, I helped my co-workers setup their booth and then headed back to one of their hotel rooms to crash. And crash I did! Four hours later I woke up feeling a little peckish and headed out in search of a sandwich. A sandwich worthy of a great day. If found it in the form of a hot sandwich from the Boston Bean Stock coffee house.

I had the camera with me all day and took lots of pictures. I always figure there may be a few worthwhile gems out of a couple hundred shots. Since it’s essentially free to take a digital picture, I snap away constantly. Even with my camera hand down at my side while walking, I’ll snap a shot at whatever may be behind me and wonder what luck will bring my way.

Sometimes I’ll get home and review the shots, and think, “damn, if I had just moved a little be this way or the other, the shot would have been MUCH better.” For example, this seagull shot. If I could have gotten the little feathered guy from a lower angle, he would have been against the bright blue sky instead of against the visually noisy buildings.

One thing I notice about my collections of photos is that there are few people in them. I’m making a conscious effort to try and get more people into my shots. Candids are interesting. I really like the three I got on this trip. Three more than I would normally get. The despair guy, the taxi hailing guy, and the back of the lunch guy.

A fun day, if not tiring. Two days later my legs were sore from all the walking. Go figure. I can ride 187 miles in relative ease (and I’m using the word ‘relative’ very loosely here) but a couple miles of walking and I’m all, “oh my muscles, oh my calves, oh I don’t want to climb the stairs at work, wah, wah, wah.” Guess I need to be like Heather and cross train more.

Hope you like the photos. Slap me some commenty goodness on the photos themselves if you do.

I’m dumber than you are…

“I’m dumber than you are…” This is something my office-mate and I trade back and forth sometimes. Then I extended it to a friend. Then another. Then they told two friends, and they told two friends, and so on, and so on… Well, not so much, but anyway… Now I have one to share with everyone.

This is where we share the “I can’t believe I did this/this happened and I just have to tell you and laugh about it.”

The one about the keys
This morning… About to be late for work… Can’t find my keys. Well, I DO have one of the two sets of my car keys, but I don’t have the set with the security fob for the office building and the other keys. I don’t urgently need it today but, I really should find my main set of keys anyway. I’ve got the single car key and keyless entry fob in my hand as I’m looking for the other set. I’ve been using those lately when I go for a ride since it’s easier to carry.

I look in my bag, in my coat pockets, in the nightstand drawer, on the coffee table next to the couch. Nothing. Back to the car. I look in the center console, in the back of the car in the mess of cycling stuff, under the seats. Still nothing. BACK into the house, again, then drawer, pockets, tables, bags. Nothing. WTF?!

My right hand feels heavy. I look at it. My keys are there. Cue crazy dumbfounded stare at hand holding missing keys for 7 full seconds without taking a breath. Then I blink.

I HAVE NO IDEA how they got into my hand. I’m pretty sure that hand was with me the whole morning and that it didn’t just hop off the kitchen counter and reattach itself as I walked by in a frustrated huff. AND, the original set I thought I was holding, just the key and fob combo, was in my pants pocket.

Very freaky. Very dumb.

The 300km brevet ride

Miles rode: 300km or 187 miles
Time: 14:30 hours
Heart rate: 145 for the first 11 hours and 128 for the last 3.5 hours (somehow my HR monitor reset itself)
Perceived effort: 6
Elevation gained: 7470

What were you doing at 4am Sunday morning?

I was already up for nearly an hour and preparing for a …
4am start.

Now I’ve never started a ride before sunrise before. Having to have a light was a nuisance. Especially since I couldn’t find the mount for my light. The night before I gave up trying to find the mount and looked around my garage waiting for inspiration to hit me. My eyes lit upon the electrical tape hanging on a pegboard peg. That’ll do. That tape also worked in lieu of the bungie cord I couldn’t find to secure my extra layers to the underside of my handlebars once the temperature increased.

Notice the light taped to the underside of the right aero bar, and the bag under the center of the bars. Not elegant in the least bit but it worked. Note to self: buy a stronger light.

I hung nearly the whole time with John Ceceri, the ride organizer. He wasn’t feeling entirely charged for the ride (later he realized he wasn’t drinking enough). So we went at a slower pace than we rode the 200km. I think I needed the slower pace to help me meter my energy and have a successful ride.

Riding very long distances gives you time to think. Even with a companion, there are long silences. Conversation only lasts so long before that gets tiring too… Or you have to climb a hill. Thinking about how you feel is deadly. “That twinge in my right knee is back.” “It’s getting worse.” “Will it get so painful I have to stop? Have to drop out?” These are the things that can get stuck in your head and gnaw at your confidence like angry termites on a dog house. “Now it’s my lower back. Damn. That hasn’t bothered me in months. How come NOW it’s making noises?” Thirty or forty miles later I don’t even remember worrying about the back.

The knee is still talking back to me. It’s like your drunk uncle arguing with you that he’s actually fine and can drive Aunt Matilda back home. It’s saying, “You haven’t been riding as much as you should have. You’ve been out the sallying about in your running shoes neglecting the bike. You think you can ride 300km on so little training? Well I’m here to tell you you’re nuts for trying and on every pedal stroke I’ll remind you.”

Stupid knee.

But I know better. I can tell it’s talking out of its ass. (Yes, apparently my knee has it’s own ass.) The pings of pain are just the pain from an overuse syndrome. Too much, too soon. Comes from too little training. The left knee is experiencing the same thing to a much lesser degree. The climbing, of which there is plenty, puts the greatest strain on them.

The climbing. Nothing really hellish on this course. The climb up Greene by my house is probably the steepest, and it’s pretty short anyway. Even that climb on the eastern part of North Shore road on Sacandaga was over before I realized it. (The one up to the lookout.) Most of the climbs I did with butt firmly planted in the saddle. It’s definitely easier that way. Unless it’s a very short climb. Or a very very steep climb. Everything in between… I take sitting down. THIS is where strain on the knees comes in. But, hey, a couple hundred more miles (what’ll that be, another 3 rides?!) and the knees should be back in shape.

Speaking of North Shore Road… John and I consider ourselves lucky for making it through unscathed. Three times the same pair of BMWs screeched by us. Twice towards us skidding around a curve and the third time then had to meekly keep pace behind a pack of motorcyclists. We were fortunate the motorcyclists were there at the right time to temper the Beamers’ speed. One more drive-by and we were going to call the Troopers. If we had been on an inside curve with them flying around it blindly, I shudder to think what may have happened. Even my shudder is shuddering.

The first 50 miles presented me with the added challenge of a soft front tire. It wouldn’t hold full pressure. I borrowed a pump from Glen at one checkpoint and inflated it to about 100 psi, but it didn’t last. Eventually I replaced the tube in that tire and with John’s pump, and again got it back to about 100 psi. So I rode the whole even with a slight handicap of a softer than normal front wheel. Damn I wish I had an inflator canister to get to full pressure.

The other riders. I met Ferdinand who road cross country from Seattle to the east coast. He’s a high school math teacher who really puts his summer vacations to use. Glen was on the 200km also–he’s from Albany. Andrew and Heather are an energetic pair. I chatted with Heather briefly about her training and experiences with ultra running and the handful of 100 mile runs she’s attempted. Buck, it turns out lives just north of me (well, two exits north)–yet we’ve never encountered one another on the roads in our neighborhoods. Dick unfortunately packed it in. He wasn’t feeling up to snuff I think and decided to abort before reaching Sacandaga Lake. Bill Schwarz on the hand cycle also didn’t finsh. I’m not sure what the details were regarding his DNF.

Lunch consisted of a Stewarts slider hot dog, package of Damn Good Jerky, a Red Bull, and an entire 32oz bottle of Gatorade. I’ve never eaten this much at once on a ride, but I erred on the side of eating TOO much. No bonking for this puppy. John started with just a Coke and Twinkies but after seeing how scrumptious my Stewart’s hot dog was got himself one as well. Frankly anything is scrumptious at about 130 miles in. Even those hot dogs.

Things I noticed:

• Lots of miniature Collies
• Lots of cops (though none on North Shore Road where we needed one)
• 13 riders, 3 DNF (did not finish)
• I should use my left hand when squeezing energy gels from their packaging. Sticky fingers on my digital camera were harshing my Monk mojo.
• Speaking of gels. Warm vanilla Clif Shots taste like crap. GU brand were better. Oh, and the banana Hammer gels are good too.
• It’s unnerving riding without a pump OR air canisters. I realized I didn’t have any canisters until too late the day before.

Here’s a video of those frustrating dogs on Route 32. Not bad for first take, no practicing, one-handed while riding, eh? Notice the shape of the ground at the end of the dog’s run up to the fenced corner of the yard.

Click for Google map

Click for elevation profile