Give My Regards to Summer

Over the last few evenings, I've noticed it getting dark well before 8 pm. I'm trying to squeeze the last few after-work rides out of the year before being banished to the spin bike and darktime rides.

And with the shorter days, thoughts turn to bike lights. The Planet Bike Superflash has got my back, but over the last couple of winters, I've been less keen on ye ol' Turbocat. It was (and is) a lot of light for the buck, and more than enough for rides home on the flats. But I definitely felt sketched out on Grizzly Peak descents, more harrowing now given the state of the road up there. The need for an overnight charge, the weight of the pack, limited burn time, and the lack of any battery life indicator has also worn on me. Plus, LED technology has really made serious leaps and bounds in recent years. So...I'm considering an upgrade this winter. I try to get at least one night-time long-way-home ride a week, so a good light is nice.

Suggestions?

No ride tonight. Another night meeting in the South Bay. Fortunately, I had The Places In Between to keep me company on the drive. I like it so much that I may actually get another audiobook when this one is done.

Tomorrow, though, I'll take the long way home.

By the way, Andrew and Andrew - your Craigslist flakiness kills me. I'm reposting the Atlantis for sale.

Tribal Markings

Lately I've seen way too many pictures of cyclists' legs on their blogs. Yes, I know you check your legs out in the mirror. We all do. But nobody wants to see them online, really. All flexed like your knees are about to explode.

That being said, early September is when one's tan line is at its most extreme, and the best for showing off. Last week I walked into a meeting and noticed that the woman across me had the worst farmer tan, and shamelessly showed it off with a sleeveless shirt. When asked if she was a cyclist, she happily went off about a recent ride in Livermore. The guy next to me perked up, said he too was a cyclist, and proceeded to show me his glove tan line. (His son apparently just competed in Nationals.) I was tempted to roll up my pants and show my own tri-colore band around my (lean and powerful) thighs.

The same way a tattoo reminds you of that one time in Cabo or how to write your name in Chinese (useful in case you're in a horrible accident in China and don't have ID), the tan line brings back long, sun-drenched climbs, and the satisfying grit on your calves after a long day in the saddle. The tan line, more than a $8000 bike, is the mark of a serious rider. (Ergo, triathletes, with their sleeveless jerseys and speedos, do NOT count as serious riders.)

Yes, you will be laughed at by whatever non-cyclist is lucky enough to see you naked. The spray-on arm and leg-warmer look is actually not sexy. But I guess the romance of road riding is not for everyone.

For My Listening Pleasure

Most of my rides have been solo for the last few weeks, leaving me plenty of time to listen to podcasts and music.

Favorite podcasts for the bike, in descending order:

1. The BS Report - Bill Simmons's blend of pop culture commentary, meat head humor, everyman voice, and keen sports analysis have made him the most successful sports writer in America today. No bikes, but very funny. Gets a range of guests from Jerry West to his (increasingly famous) college buddy Jack-O, a die hard Yankee fan and foil to Simmons's Boston homer-ism.

2. Two Johns Podcast - They've lost some of the luster from the early days, and John G, in particular, sounds a little tired of the gig. But their camaraderie and love of bike racing comes through nicely. I particularly appreciate John G.'s anal-retentive and style-nazi approach ("detail oriented") to road biking. Apparently, the cycling fashionistas dictate one MUST wear one's glasses arms outside the helmet straps. God knows why. They viciously skewer Discovery-kit wearing, Serotta-riding dentists and all things fred-ly. Production value is, um, limited, but charming in a homegrown way.

3. The VeloCast - A better-produced, somewhat geekier version of the Two Johns, but with excellent Scottish accents. Commentary on bike commuting, racing, tech, news stories, etc.

4. Sound Opinions - A sure sign of aging is that I rely on NPR to tell me about cool new music.

5. This American Life - Ira Glass fires me up.

6. The Cadence Revolution - Serving up mindless workout music at just the right tempo for hard efforts. If zombies did aerobics, this is what they would listen to.

I also check out The Moth, The Score, and The Spokesmen occasionally. Other suggestions?

For music, I've made a huge playlist and just hit "shuffle." A sample:

Song	Artist
6' 1"	Liz Phair
93 'Til Infinity	Souls of Mischief
A Day In The Life	Handsome Boy Modeling School
A Little Respect	Erasure
Any Way You Want It	Journey
Baby When I Saw You	Kylie Minogue
Back 4 You	Jurassic 5
Blue Monday	New Order
Brilliant Disguise	Bruce Springsteen
Classifieds	Bob Mould
Call It Love	Poco
Callin' Out Remix	Lyrics Born Feat. E-40 & Casual
Chains Of Love	Erasure
Champion	Kanye West
Chief Rocka	Lords of the Underground
Crazy	Gnarls Barkley
Debaser	Pixies
Don't Stop	Girl Talk

The ride today was largely uneventful. JK and I bumped into Sanj and Rubes, a couple of ex- Ultimate folks on Tunnel. Great descent down Centennial - 45 mph. Stopped at La Farine for a pastry afterwards. Korean tofu soup for dinner with J-Lou. I think they dumbed it down for us; it wasn't as spicy as usual.

Raise Your Glass to the Labor Movement!

Did the usual Tunnel-Grizzly Peak route yesterday and this morning. With my parents in town for the weekend, there's not a lot of time for riding.

Saturday saw lots of fog - perfect arm warmers weather. I pushed it on the hills, stopping a couple of times to take some pics. Then, returned home to pancakes, a strawberry-banana smoothie, sausage, and coffee. The best.

This morning was sunny from the get go (picture is from yesterday). I took it easy, though had a super fun 50+ mph descent on South Park. On the bike, I listened to Dream Signals in Full Circles by Tristeza, a San Diego group. It's as mellow as the album title and the band name ("Sadness" en espanish) suggests. Perfect for recovery rides, trying to show your college girlfriend how sensitive you are, and cinematically staring out the window when she breaks up with you for listening to such sad sack music. Fried potatoes, salad, Filipino sardines, and watermelon when I got back. Thanks, Moms!

My farmer tan is fierce.

I accomplished a big chunk of the long-delayed Mancave chores this evening, with some manual assistance from my parents and technical advice from the Home Depot. Finally got those backpacks off the floor and up onto the peg board. I'd still like a proper work bench, but this works for now. Notice the many shoe boxes J-Lou has hoarded over the years getting put to good use. I still need to sort out a music solution, install a shelf for the snowboard, and finish overhauling and hanging up J-Lou's road bike.

Tomorrow, I'll do Redwood-Pinehurst with JK. Haven't ridden with her in a while, but that will make four days in a row for me. I've been feeling pretty fit with all the miles, which, in my experience, is usually when my connective tissue starts to protest. Regular stretching and use of The Stick has been keeping things together thus far, knock on wood.

God, I love long weekends.

I Love the Bay

Every time I see this view I think about how much I love the Bay, especially the East Bay. It makes me happy to ride here. My most mundane workaday loop is 20 miles, up the hill to this vista, along the ridge (more views), and a casual descent to to nice bakeries, pizzas, and taquerias. One complaint: in the last 12 months, Grizzly Peak from the top to Centennial has become an death trap of unmarked tire-eating potholes and gravelly corners. City of Berkeley - this is a bike vs. auto accident waiting to happen.

Rode up Claremont today for a change. Instead of the slow threshold burn of Tunnel Road, Claremont serves up a concentrated stretch of sweaty, lurching, for-reals climbing. It's one of the Berkeley Death Ride series and consistently beats my ass. I get a third of the way up and think, "Wow - all this riding is paying off! Claremont isn't as hard as I remember." Then the steep bit by the eucalyptus grove kicks in and I start looking down to make sure I don't have another gear left. No? Huh. A couple of seconds later - what the? Still no extra gear? By the time I make it past the second switchback I'm just trying to keep the bike moving in a straight line.

I lowered my bars this week to see how it feels. There's more power transfer to the legs, and I love standing and grabbing the hoods instead of the drops when climbing. This feels particularly nice on the steep hills like Claremont. But the more aero position will take its toll on my shoulder on long flat rides, which thankfully we have none of around here. We'll see. It does make the bike look a lot sportier though. Mmmmmm....sporty.

Dinner with the parents at a tapas place in Oakland's Temescal district. Although the restaurant was meh, the neighborhood is going off! I had to circle for 10 minutes to find a parking space - unheard of in the East Bay. Temescal has become a grittier, cooler version of Berkeley's Gourmet Ghetto. The Ghetto Gourmet Ghetto. Many many hipster fixies.

Grind

Drove to Mountain View at rush hour for an evening meeting last night. Two soul-crushing hours in the car while eating a burrito, and just managed to get there 2 minutes late. I discovered midway through the meeting that my tie was covering up an enormous salsa stain. Bleaugh.

Tonight, once again, I will drive from SF to SJ at 4pm. I'll listen to The Places In Between, though, which will be good. Definitely recommended. It's my foray into audiobooks, downloaded free thanks to the This American Life partnership with Audible.com

Also hoping to sell the Atlantis frame this morning. Please, "Andrew" - don't be a Craigslist flake. It's such a cliché. I have noticed that buyers' initial eagerness in response to an ad is inversely proportional to their likelihood of actually closing the deal.

I swear I will ride tomorrow morning. There - I said it. You'll all hold me accountable, right? Hello? Wait - is this thing on?

Long Way Home via Secret Ranches

After work I went up Tunnel and took what I call the "Secret Ranches" path back home. For the locals, it starts at the Steam Train, goes down Lomas Contadas and across to Wildcat. I love how intimate that road feels. It passes by unkempt stables, and even dissolves into a gravel stretch for twenty yards. The sunset over the hills also rocks from there.

I drilled myself on Tunnel, Grizzly Peak, and Wildcat, so was happy to take it easy and take some pictures on the Secret Ranch section. I never used to ride hard on the bike, putting in the work in spin class instead. I didn't want to associate my bike with pain and suffering. The lumbering Atlantis also discouraged hard efforts.

But lately, easy after-work cruises feel boring unless I have someone to ride with. I've actually grown to like the pain cave, especially on the more zippy Indy Fab. Also, if I take too long to get home I end up STARVING, and stuff huge handfuls of potato chips in my mouth while standing in the kitchen in a wet chamois.

Sometimes I wonder why bother with the "training." Training for what? To drop 50-year old ladies on hybrids (for the record, I smoked two tonight)? To be the bestest century rider I can be? I think it comes down to a couple of things:

1. Feeling fit, and the associated confidence to tackle tough rides.

2. Endorphins.

3. Post-ride meals taste even better.

4. If I'm going to shave my legs I'd better make a fucking effort.

5. My shaved legs will look good.

I still refuse to call it "training," though. And though tempted, I haven't committed to the lactate threshold test at the gym. I don't race. What would I do with this data?

For dinner - spinach and cheese ravioli tossed in a sauce of fresh tomatoes, anchovies, and garlic. Grilled green beans on the side. I highly recommend the Costco frozen ravioli. Nothing beats it after a mid-week ride, when I'm too tired to make a proper meal. It's a once-a-week date for me. Not glamorous, but super satisfying.

Oooh - I managed to get the stuck stem out of the frame this morning! I just put a wheel into the fork, which gave me enough leverage to twist it out. Should have thought of this on Sunday.