Ride Fast or Ride Far?

When I first started trying to increase the milage of my rides, I was advised to keep my average speed down on longer distances. "You can ride fast, or you can ride far," I was told. This advice seemed perfectly logical. The faster you ride, the sooner you'll get tired, right?



But my own experience stubbornly contradicted this piece of wisdom. I grew suspicious when, over the past two years, intentionally keeping my speed down only seemed to make me miserableon longer rides. So this summer I experimented. On some long rides I rode at whatever speed felt natural in the moment (whee!). On others I intentionally kept my speed in check. I felt better after the rides where I maintained a higher speed.



At first this discovery confused me. And then all at once, it made sense. The "fast or far" dichotomy fails to account for one crucial factor: time spent on the bike. Let's say you are doing a 100 mile ride. At an average rolling speed of 14mph, you will spend 7.14 hours on the bike. At an average rolling speed of 12mph, you will spend 8.33 hours on the bike. That's more than an hour of extra bike time! An entire extra hour of pedaling, of leaning forward, of gripping the handlebars, of chafing against the saddle. These things can wear you out just as much as the pedaling effort itself.



My point here is not that one should attempt a century ride with the zeal of a racer, but that it helps to look at a situation from multiple angles and to factor in your own strengths and weaknesses. As it turns out, I can ride faster than I've been giving myself credit. And as my body struggles to cope with longer times in the saddle, riding faster is getting me further. YMMV.

DIY Leashless Umbilicals

I sold off my old ice tools for newer ones. I got Petzl Quarks as I wanted a tool that had leashes but could go leashless and I found I enjoyed the swing better than other tools on the market that fit the bill. I had not climbed leashless, so I wanted to start on them with leashes. That idea didn't last as the first time I went out this season I kept the leashes in my pack. I found climbing without leashes to be such a release. Now ice climbing is more like rock climbing. I can shake out easily and placing screws is just as easy. Even yesterday while climbing it made some mixed type moves much easier to do where I used a branch as a hold on a climb. This is not easily doable with leashes if only for the mental concept of the tool being attached to you person.

So after my first true leashless experience back in November I knew I needed to make umbilicals for my tools in the event I do a multi pitch route with them. I started with the information on AAI's blog to make my own.

Their version calls for a swivel, which I don't feel I need. I am not doing anything fancy like switching and matching at this point to make that a needed part of the umbilical. Removing the swivel keeps weight and price down when making your own too, so that was also a concern of mine. Speaking of which, it was about five dollars for the 1/2" tubular webbing and 1/8" shock cord both in twelve foot lengths. Adding a swivel probably jacks the price up to $10. (Still much cheaper than a $45 one from Black Diamond.) I followed the instructions they had and used bailing wire to snake the shock cord through the webbing which made it easy.


However, the instructions that are provided incorporate the length of the swivel into the system. Upon completing mine I found it too short for the way I wished to use it. So I added a loop of webbing to extend it and hopefully use it to girth hitch to my harness. It turned out to be still a touch short, so I now clip my extension loop onto a biner on my harness. If you are planning on doing this yourself, test often. I think the only sure test before cutting is to try it on with a harness and take some swings. Make sure to take a few to the side as well. If you are tall like me and don't plan on adding the swivel, the full 12' would be a good starting point. Since I have Quarks, I made small loops of 4mm cord to clip climbing carabiners into to loops.


Having climbed on the umbilicals once, I can say most of the time I do not notice they are there. However, there were a few occasions where they hooked on screw heads or icicles. But I'd believe with practice that those events should diminish.

A Dabble in Route Planning

The past year has been a great eye-opener for me as far as finding new places to ride in an area I thought I'd exhausted. In particular, I've been impressed by local randonneuse Pamela Blalock's ability to design routes entirely along back roads, with minimal motorised traffic. This style of route involves more climbing than typical, and, at times, some intense navigation. But having gotten used to both, I've come to appreciate the opportunities routes like this provide: to travel on my bike largely undisturbed by cars, and to truly get to know an area, with all its hidden scenery and useful shortcuts.I also appreciate that Pamela's routes are not a matter of luck or psychic powers, but of dedicated research and strategic exploring.






Until recently I did not feel sufficiently confident in my navigation skills to try this myself, butnow that is changing. I am planning a ride heading North, and getting out of Boston straight up the coast is a thoroughly unpleasant business. There is no good way to do it; for the first 10 miles it is all dangerous roads and lots of congestion. So I wanted to plan a route that would swing out west and come around from there, connecting to the northern route at a point where it calms down. This adds about 30 extra miles to the start of the trip, but I will take 40 pleasant miles over 10 unpleasant ones any time.






In planning the westward route extension, my goal was to try and do it along lightly traveled back roads, possibly with some unpaved stretches. I started by studying similar routes that go through the area, combining and modifying them based on personal experience, maps, and educated guesswork, until I'd strung something together that went where I needed it to go. I loaded the route onto GPS, printed out a cue sheet, and got on my bike to test out my handiwork.






For my first time trying something like this, it wasn't bad. There were lots of turns that would drive some people nuts and a few awkward climbs - the kind where a climb starts right after a sharp turn, catching you by surprise, so that you're downshifting madly from a high gear. This I didn't mind, particularly since I was the only vehicle on the road much of the time. But there was also a couple of mistakes/ surprises - not necessarily bad, but educational.






My route included a few unpaved trails, all except one of which I was already familiar with. The one I was not familiar with turned out to be more technical than I'd expected.






A shortcut through the woods, the narrow bumpy trail wound its way downhill between trees rather tightly. I was able to ride it, but made a note to avoid it on skinny tires, in wet weather and in the dark. Looking at the map, I saw there was a way to circumvent the woods on the road, so I then went back and tested that stretch to make sure it was a sufficiently traffic-free alternative.






While not ideal for all bikes and all occasions, this trail proved to be incredibly scenic this time of year. For much of it, I cycled under a canopy of budding magnolia blossoms.The sun brought out their colours against the blue sky, and the warm weather brought out their scent.






Riding here, I felt as if I'd been gifted a rare glimpse into something special and rare. Only for 2 weeks of the year do these flowers blossom. And all it takes is one windy, rainy day, for all this tentative pinkness to be stripped off its branches before the flowers even fully open up.






Spring is such a delicate time of the year. The greens are pale, the tangled trees are transparent like lace. In the summer this will all become fuller, heavier, thicker - a dense fabric.






Even moss is paler and softer. I love coming back to the woods season after season and seeing it all change.






Further along, I found myself on a stretch of road that was much busier than expected. So I changed course in hopes of finding a better alternative. On the map I saw a tangle of side streets that it looked like I could ride through to get to my next point, skipping the busy road. So I did just that, and found myself in a cul-de-sac neighbourhood situated on a substantial hill. Looking for the best route, I ended up going over this hill several times from different directions, until I found the sequence I was happiest with.




On one of the streets I passed a group of small boys with their kids' bikes. The poor things could only ride them up and down short stretches in front of their house before the road became too steep. Seeing me continue all the way up the hill, the boys stopped what they were doing, stood still and stared, saying "Whoa, I want to do that!" and "That's a nice bike, lady!" They had not reached that age yet where youthful mockery becomes hard to detect; it was clear their delight was genuine.






Later, I encountered a woman walking a llama, as casually as if she were walking a dog. Normally I am not good at making quick u-turns, but this time it was no problem (llama!).






Heading home along a quiet trail, I realised that in the course of the past 50 miles there had only been a few stretches with noticeable car traffic. And now that I had a better understanding of the neighbourhoods around those stretches, I could make changes to improve those parts as well. It wasn't perfect, but I am pretty happy with my first serious attempt at backroad route planning. Even the parts that did not go as expected allowed me to explore and discover interesting pockets I would have otherwise missed.




Having a network of new, "secret" as some locals refer to them, routes through familiar areas is extremely exciting and a great way to travel. I am looking forward to doing more of this!

Into the U.P.

Crossing the Mackinac Bridge into the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.July 31, ..

The first stop was at Brimley State Park, about 15 miles west of Sault Ste. Marie, on the shores of the St. Mary's River. Several pleasant days were spent in the area. Blue skies and sunshine were abundant. Daytime temperatures in the mid-80s with lows in the 60s overnight. Very nice!



Of course I visited the Locks at Sault Ste. Marie. A very large freighter had just entered the locks from the higher Lake Superior side. It took quite a while to get it lowered so it could eventually make its way to Lake Erie and eastward. Movement was imperceptible. Only when you looked away for a few minutes then looked back at the ship could you tell it was sitting lower beneath the top of the locks. Eventually the gates of the locks opened and the ship was on its way. I overheard the Park Ranger (Sault Locks is a National Historical Park) telling someone that the ship that went through was 105 feet wide while the locks were 110 feet wide. A rather tight fit overall.





A few minutes later, a small tourist boat came through. Entering from the east side it had to be raised in order to exit on the west side and into Lake Superior.





The top of the boat is below the top of the locks.



Twelve minutes later, the little boat was on its way. It didn't take nearly as long to raise this little boat as it took to lower the large freighter.



A very nice visitor center has displays on the history of the building of the locks as well as a very informative 20-minute movie.

Blue Mist Spirea

I really like this very drought tolerant bush. It is called Blue Mist Spirea. There are other colors of it from light to dark blue. It takes less water than about any plant I have but still it does need some here in the desert. I have two that are about 8 years old and are about 6 foot in diameter. And the bees love it. At this time when it is blooming there are bees all over it. But I have never been stung by one even though I get really close to take the photos as the flowers and bees are so small.


It is hard to take photos of the bees as they move constantly not landing on a flower for more than a second which probably means there isn't much nectar in the blossoms. They have some nice sent to me, if you get your nose in a flower but it isn't much.

Bells Are Ringing, Car Doors Flinging... Holiday Time in the City

Just as I start to think of myself as a seasoned transportation cyclist, something happens to throw me off my game. Yesterday I had one of the most stressful rides ever. It was a 10 mile route out to the suburbs that passed through several town centers. Despite it being the middle of a work day, traffic was unbelievable and I kept trying to figure out what was going on. Then it hit me (almost literally - as two car doors swung open simultaneously directly in front of me and a pedestrian jumped into my out-of-the-doorzone line of travel at the exact same moment): It's holiday shopping time and people are on their lunch breaks.



Don't get me wrong: I am glad to see so many shoppers patronising establishments in their local town centers instead of going to the mall or shopping online. I've heard campaigns on the radio promoting local holiday shopping, and I am certain that I am seeing more of this trend now than in previous years. The lively community feeling seems to be returning to places where it had been absent for years; it's fantastic. But assuming that most of the holiday shoppers are indeed local (why else would they visit tiny stores selling things like bespoke stationery, knitting yarn, baby clothing, and jewelry crafted by women who teach at the local arts center?) it is ironic that they choose to drive. Parking alone must eat up a good portion of their lunch hour, which probably explains why they run in and out of the shops like mad, swing open their car doors without looking, then shout in irritation at cyclists like me merely for being there and almost getting killed by them. They would probably be happier if they walked, as would the rest of us. I know that some town centers have considered banning parking or car traffic during peak shopping times, but there is resistance from business owners - who believe this will deprive them of customers.



Anyhow, I write this not so much to complain, as to warn those who are new to cycling during the holiday rush: Be careful out there and take alternative routes if possible. After almost getting doored for the nth time, finally switching to a trail for the last portion of my return trip was a welcome relief. Peace and quiet and dirt and gravel and no swinging car doors: I'll have that on the rocks, please. And I'll walk or ride to do my holiday shopping.

Jennifer

Our mission statement here at jjobrien climbing & style is to go where other style reporters fear to tread.


When Jennifer's high-style polish met Slider Wall's legendary trachytefriction, jjobrien was there to bring back the look.

































The instagram post that caught the eye of Marketing Managementat Lorna Jane.

The camera lovesLorne jane.









Follow me on instagramat johnjobrien.

That's right, no service where I live, my battery is flat and I lock the screen rotation thing.













The poster shot.






jj

On the Road

Lots of construction on the road going to Jemez Springs when we went up the other day. Hope it makes the road better when they get finished.

Sunflower Silhouette

A tall 'Mammoth Russian' sunflower from the past summer.

Long Island Sunset

As its name implies, Long Island is a very LONG but narrow island in the Susie Islands. Only about 100 feet wide at its widest point, it is roughly one half-mile in length. This photo was taken at sunset over the East end of Long Island.

New Camera Photos

These are the first photos from my new camera. Of course some of the Sandia Mountains.



Cassie



Twinkie




Wiley


Murphy



Tuffee



Ziva



Star



Stormy & Traveler