December 2006

We continued our time at Asilomar for a family reunion through mid-day today. My wife’s training schedule called for a one-hour moderate intensity ride with efforts of increasing duration in the middle, a preparation for a race tomorrow morning. We mused on going back to Hwy 1 and towards Carmel, but having done that the day before and having dealt with all the traffic we opted for a quieter route: the 17 mile drive. I had rained a bit overnight, and the morning was cloudy and cool, the ocean was rough with large waves. We decided to spend the morning with her parents and aunt then to do a ride after lunch. Shortly before lunch there were glimpses of blue sky but no general break in the weather.

As soon as we finished lunch we waved goodbye to her parents and aunt as they headed south then we pulled on our cycling gear for the ride. We headed out of the Asilomar grounds and my wife took a wrong turn heading towards Pacific Grove rather than towards the 17-mile drive and Carmel. We sorted out that confusion and were soon making our way towards Spanish Bay, and the first of a number of golf courses. A number of surfers were taking advantage of the wave action in Spanish Bay, brave souls enjoying the last day of the old year. We continued through the Monterey Peninsula Country Club and were just past the turnoff to Spyglass Hill when we had to start the first of a series of ‘efforts’, meaning cycling harder to raise the heart rate, specified by my wife’s coach. These short bursts of activity continued on and off as we rounded Cypress Point and approached Pebble Beach. I was amused at the signs warning us that trespassing on any of these sanctified patches of sand would lead to all sorts of legal entanglements, the rich ensuring that they maintain exclusive access. At Pebble Beach, the ‘efforts’ over with and past 30 minutes it was time to turn back so we could keep the ride near the 1 hour specified. The return trip was a bit more mellow, even stopping to take a couple of photos and to peruse the flyer for a house that was for sale: 3 bedrooms and 3 baths on a 3/4 acre lot all for the piddling sum of $2.9M. We opted for not making an offer, returning to Asilomar and our chariot to home. In just over an hour we had ridden 16.10 miles, all relatively flat. Time to end the weekend, and our year of cycling. I finished with just under 8700 miles, my wife with somewhere around 7400. That is a lot of pedal rotations!

In October, 2003 we took a short tour along the California coast and have been talking about riding all or part of that trip again but with less baggage this time. We are most interested in riding the Big Sur coast, the section of coastline from Carmel to Ragged Point, a section of rough, rocky shores and extreme beauty. The first part of our ride of this section in 2003, from Carmel to near the town of Big Sur, is quite literally a foggy memory; that section of coast was under a heavy layer of fog on the morning we rode it. This weekend we are at a reunion for my wife’s father’s family being held at Asilomar, a state park on the Monterey peninsula just a few miles from Carmel, and so far the weather has been lovely: clear, temperatures rising into the mid-60’s with not much wind. So my wife decided today was the day to ride part of the coast, again.

The morning, between breakfast and lunch, was devoted to family photo sessions so we were not able to leave on the ride until after lunch. As soon as lunch was over we dressed in knickers and warmer jerseys, got the bikes setup, and headed east on Highway 68. The first section is a steady uphill grade and in a short period of time I was overheating and had to peel off all but a mid-weight base layer. Just past the crest of the hill we arrived at the junction with Highway 1 and started south towards Carmel on a steady downhill run. Highway 1 was quite busy with large numbers of folks taking advantage of the holiday weekend and good weather to visit the area. Past Carmel the traffic remained heavy until we passed the entrance to Point Lobos State Park; south of that point there was considerably less traffic, indicating the popularity of that park. We followed the undulations, up and down, inland and then coastside, of the road through Carmel Highlands and were making good time towards Garrapata State Beach when we realized two things: we would be pressing our luck, timewise, to continue to our original planned turnaround at the Bixby Bridge, and that the wind had picked up and we now had a moderately stiff tailwind. This led to a reassessment and decision to turn around near Garrapata. At the Garrapata bridge we stopped for a couple of photos, then proceeded south another 0.25 miles to a vista point where we turned around for the ride back. The trip back took about the same amount of time even though we were proceeding into a modest headwind most of the way, the only respite being when there was some wind blocks provided by the topography near Carmel Highlands. The climb from Rio Road in Carmel to the Highway 68 junction was a bit of a grind, but we were able to travel faster than the heavy stop-and-go holiday traffic in that section. From the crest on Highway 68 it was a fast descent down to Asilomar and our room. The trip was 34.2 miles, with about 2800 ft of elevation gain.

I left home this morning expecting a bit of wind, and maybe a light shower.  The weather forecasters were calling for a big storm, but its progress was slow and was not supposed to get to us until late in the evening.   Fine with me, I had my ‘Shower Pass’ rain jacket, a 2005 Christmas gift from the wife.  The morning rides were fine, some wind gusts but nothing too disturbing.  At about 2 PM I was in a meeting when I noted the first drops of rain hitting the windows of our offices.  I rained steadily, though lightly, most of the afternoon, but seemed to be letting up a bit about 5 PM so I decided to make a run for a 5:43 PM train at the San Mateo station.  When I was commuting 10-20 miles each way, and there was a shower at the office, I would get up in the morning, dress in cycling clothes, pack my work clothes, ride to the office, then take a shower and dress for work.  At the end of the day I would put the cycling clothes back on, pack the work clothes in the saddlebag or pannier, ride home, then change.  With the new, shorter commute, only 3-5 mile legs, and with no shower at work, I now bathe in the morning, dress in work clothes, then ride to the train, ride the train north, get off and ride to the office.  This is reversed in the evening.  I am now quite aware that the lycra or drylete of cycling shorts/knickers is far preferable for cycling wear in wet weather than are cotton pants.  I left the office about 5:20 PM and headed north to the train station.  There was a light drizzle when I left, which changed rapidly as I headed north.  By the time I travelled the 2 miles to the station it was a constant rain.  I called my wife, who had the day off, to see what the weather was like at home and she reported windy but dry at the moment so I figured I might be able to get home in a dry state.  As I got off the train in Sunnyvale all hopes for a dry ride were dashed:  it was raining, steadily and harder than it had been up north.  I headed east on Evelyn then south on Sunnyvale, both with the wind to my back, so I was travelling quite fast.  But I was soaked, at least from the hips down.  The ‘Shower Pass’ jacket kept everything from the hips to the neck dry, but the cotton pants and wool socks were quickly soaked.  By the time I travelled the 3+ miles to home, I looked like someone that had been playing with the ducks; dripping wet.  I have to laud the jacket for keeping part of me dry, and the fenders for keeping me cleaner.  It might be time to investigate other clothing options for this new commute strategy.

My wife races, has a coach, and a workout/development plan to guide her bike rides. When I ride with her I get to follow the plan, too. Yesterday’s plan called for a 4-hour low-key ride, with a more aggressive ride today. But the wife went on a ride with her coach and another woman, Kim, and apparently the competitive nature of my wife plus that of Kim equals a more aggressive ride than anticipated. So the 4-hour low-key ride was moved to today. As soon as breakfast was over I started dinner (Chile Colorado) the prepared my touring bike and myself for the leisurely pace of the 4-hour ride. Since it was to be slow, and non-aggressive the chosen route was a loop heading north and west to the junction of Highway 92 and Cañada Road, then heading a to lower and flatter roads for the return. Seemed simple, and low-key enough for a day when the weather was cold with a very slight chance of rain.

The ride started out simple enough, though over the past year the wife’s level of fitness has gone up and I have to work a bit more to keep up. About 10 miles into the ride my senses picked up the hint that the game was on. What game? This was a ride, a non-aggressive one at that, right? If only things were so simple. Every once in a while, when we are riding, some rider in front of us does something that turns on the competitive switch in my wife and the chase begins. My wife, or the ‘hound’ in this game, simply has to catch and then pass this other rider, whom I refer to as the ‘hare’. I had not even noticed this other rider much until I recognized that the chase was on; at that time I observed that the other rider was a woman wearing a leopard skin patterned jersey, but still no indication of what transpired to turn this into a chase. We caught the other rider near the top of a small hill, which is presumably why the ‘hound’ decided to sit behind the ‘hare’ for a while. After cresting the hill the ‘hare’ led out at a bit quicker pace and soon had a small lead on the ‘hound’, and I, being an uninvolved party, lagged even further behind. We soon arrived at a ‘T’ junction between Arastradero Road, which we had been on, and Alpine Road where we all turned west, uphill, after coming to a stop. Almost immediately the ‘hound’ and I were on the heels of the ‘hare’, at which time I heard the shifter click indicating the ‘hound’ was going to pass. I shifted up and took off with her as we cleared the ‘hare’ who increased her pace, passed us briefly before being overtaken again after which she fell in at a steady clip about 25 meters behind us. The relative positions stayed the same until we came to the stop sign at Portola Road; the ‘hound’ and I slowed to stop, at which time the ‘hare’ shifted up and took off, passing to the left of us then turning right onto Portola Road. Being the silly type, I thought the game was over. The ‘hound’ and I made our right turns and fell in about 50-75 meters behind the ‘hare’, a position we kept for about a half-mile. Then, very subtly the ‘hound’ picked up the pace and we soon flew past the ‘hare’, who seemed to accept this change of relative position. The ‘hare’ dropped back to about 100 meters behind us, and seemed content with the role of the ‘vanquished’. We rode around Portola, making the left at the junction with Sandhill, then diverted to our right onto Mountain Home into the center of the Township of Woodside where we crossed Woodside Road onto Cañada Road. As we gently rode uphill towards Jefferson I could see the ‘hare’ behind us matching but not closing. As we rode on and the road twisted and turned I noticed the ‘hare’ was gaining ground, meaning she had picked up her pace. Near the Edgewater Road junction the ‘hare’ pulled in front, and I leaned forward to whisper to the ‘hound’ that perhaps it was time to end the game, and she seemed to concur. Most of the time when my wife enters ‘hound’ mode the ‘hare’ seems to be a passive participant; today the ‘hare’ was obviously aware of the game and desirous of being a competitor. It will be curious to see how often the game plays out during the racing season when there are more structured outlets for the competitive streak.

After the game ended the ride devolved into a slog fest. As we turned around at the end of Cañada Road we were met by a head wind which, coupled with a slight uphill grade and most of two hours on the road, led to a lowering of our pace. We turned eastward on Jefferson, which meant more climbing and an even slower pace. At about two and a half hours we were passing a Starbucks and pulled in for a few calories, some caffeine, and a warming of muscle tissue before continuing our journey home to that pot of simmering Chile. We ended with 56 miles for the day, and a desire to vegetate in front of flickering lights with a warm dinner on Christmas Eve.

Since changing jobs, and my commute, last week I have been experimenting with different routes. Most of the routes are from either home or the office to the train stations, and for the most part they are uninspiring trips through areas dominated by either commercial or industrial real estate. Tonight I decided to take the most direct route possible from the office to the station a couple of miles to the north, San Mateo. I left he office, cut west through the parking lot, and exited onto Grant, a tactic which cars cannot take due to chained off exits facing Grant. I turned north on Grant and was immediately in a nice, quiet neighborhood with a large percentage of homes decorated for Christmas. A light rain was falling, the remnants of a storm that had passed by earlier in the day. It was such a peaceful, affirming experience that a part of me wanted to continue on through more neighborhoods like this one.

For the past through years my cycle commuting has been moderate to long distances, with loads.  It is the type of commuting that requires one to either devote long periods of time, or to pedal swiftly to do the trip in more reasonable time limits.  Most of the commuters I have run into, myself included, wear cycling clothes appropriate to the weather, and have bags of some type to carry changes of clothes, food, laptops, etc. It is one cycle commuter culture.  Now that I have an even longer commute, that type of commuting would take far too long to do on a daily basis so I am using trains with shorter cycle legs on either end.  And on the train I find a lot of cycle commuters belonging to a different culture.  Many of the bikes are either older and/or heavier, the cyclists do not wear cycle clothing for the most part, platform pedals are the norm, and the few bags one sees are usually backpacks; panniers and saddlebags are rare, messenger bags even rarer.  While the gender balance still tilts towards the male side, I see proportionately more women than I would see on my longer, bike only, commutes.   It is definitely a different culture, one that I have joined.   I will have to search to see if their are other commuter cultures which I can embrace.

A few years ago, when the woman who is now my wife was just a friend, we were on a rainy ride with temperatures starting in the low 40’s and dropping into the upper 30’s (Fahrenheit, of course) after about an hour.  With rain soaked footwear our feet were quite cold, hers apparently more so than mine.  We stopped about an hour into the ride and warmed her socks on the engine block of a motorcycle belonging to a friendly, sympathetic gentleman.  An hour later we stopped and she warmed her feet on my chest as we ate a snack.   I called her feet ‘Popsicle Toes’, referring to the Michael Franks song of the same name, a tagline that has endured and is used again each winter.

Today we went on a relatively short ride, just a bit under 35 miles, with our friend Erika.  Erika had confessed that she had never ridden up Montebello Road, a ‘dead end’ road that starts near Stevens Creek Resevoir and climbs to a ridge near Black Mountain passing through oak woodland and ending amidst vineyards at a gate leading into an open space preserve.  We met Erika at a local bike shop then headed straight towards Montebello Road by the most direct route.  It seems that back pain had limited Erika to mostly flat rides recently though she had a new Orbea she loves and wanted to try on hills.  The temperatures were mid to high 40’s at the start, but as we climbed we did not notice the temperatures much.  We reached the top and Erika was ecstatic about being able to climb, and the fact that she had little back pain.  We had thought of taking the dirt paths through the open space preserve, but due to the mud and weather opted for the out and back approach.  The women put on jackets and I my vest for the descent and we started downhill.  I soon realized that the vest was insufficient and pulled off the road to switch to my jacket, noting that the temperature was now 41 degrees Fahrenheit.  The 5.5 mile descent in those temperatures penetrated all, and by the bottom we were all suffering a bit from cold digits and ears.  My wife’s toes were once again ‘Popsicle Toes’, a condition that lasted until we were back home and she had taken a soak in hot bath.  Ahhh, winter again!

After my long bicycle commute on Wednesday I (gasp, horror) commuted by car yesterday. It was not that I was tired, it was that I had two holiday parties to attend that were 40+ miles apart. My new employer had a quiet, subdued, late afternoon affair at a local restaurant after which I had to rush out, change clothes, pick up my wife for the more upscale party put on by her company. The day far exceeded my limit for complex social interactions for the month.

Today I opted for a short commute, not due to lack of desire to cycle but more so I could be at home with my wife more as she has another weekend fully scheduled, this time with activities centering around her racing team. I rushed out hoping to catch either the 8:13 or the 8:18 AM trains from the station closest to home. I dashed, bobbed, and weaved as quickly as possible while staying ‘legal’ (no running of lights or stop signs) but as I neared the station the crossing gates came down across the train tracks blocking my way for the last quarter mile to the train station. After the signals ceased and the gates lifted I rushed to the station to find my way to the northbound tracks blocked while the train was in the station. Much to my chagrin I found that it was the 8:18 train, meaning I has missed both of my targets and would have to wait for the 8:54 AM train. Sigh! At least I had the new, 80Gb iPod my employer had gifted me with yesterday to keep me company. I watched a couple of music videos (Shakira then Bob Dylan, about as far apart as one can imagine), then listened to a podcast of the Amateur Traveler before settling down to listen to music (the Waifs). The train showed up on time, I joined the throngs boarding, and sat in iPod solitude for the slow trip north as I had been relegated to the train that made all stops, not the ‘Baby Bullet’ or ‘Limited’ versions I had missed. Despite the number of stops the train pulled into the Hillsdale station on time, I stepped off, rolled down to the parking lot of the horse racing track and headed north to the office. A bit under 6 miles total riding for the morning.

In the afternoon I left the office in time to catch a ‘Baby Bullet’ from Hillsdale, which meant that would have to ride home from the Mountain View station, about a mile further away than the closest station to home. I tried to listen to the iPod on the train, but a bit of anxiety about not knowing where I was absent any visual clues in the darkness meant I was not really hearing what was going in the ears. At Mountain View station I weaved my way out of the parking lot and followed the very familiar route eastward to home. The final tally for both legs today was less than 12 miles, close to the shortest amount of riding for any day this year.

Today was the first day at my new job. I had done trial runs of the commute, but today was the real deal. The morning commute was straightforward: just under 5 miles to the train station, a 30 minute train trip, then another 2 miles to the office. As I was leaving I noted that the rain that had been falling much of the afternoon had ceased. Since my wife was at her Wednesday night study group and thus had no commitment to be home early I was free to try to bike the entire distance … all 22 miles of it! Most of the first half traverses industrial areas along the train tracks with road surfaces of marginal quality.  Traffic was lighter than it had been on the test runs and I made good time through this section.  Following that the route diverts through the center of Redwood City and then into a stretch through a busy commercial area with numerous side roads and parked cars with which I had to contend; it would be good to find an alternative to that section.   A long stretch follows that is dark and residential as the road goes through the upscale town of Atherton.  With all the commute traffic it was less than pastoral and I had to concentrate as a number of drivers attempted to squeeze an extra lane into the two lane roadway.  Palo Alto was another commercial area hades, especially since I decided to ride the bike boulevard which took me through the center of the business district; a big mistake that was.  The residential stretch on the southern side of Palo Alto continued through much of Mountain View, and by the time I hit these areas the commute traffic was down to a trickle and I was often alone for a minute or so at a time on the road.  A big loop around the edge of Moffet Field an donto home, a trip of 22 miles in 1 hour and 43 minutes elapsed time.  Not bad considering all the stop signs and stop lights along the way. A nice ride when there is no pressure, but perhaps a bit long to ride every day.  I will have to see how often I will do the long trek as opposed to taking the train.

Today was my last day at my old job and Human Resources decided to schedule my exit for mid-morning.  The upshot was that I was unemployed before lunch and had some time to myself.  The weather as I left the office was a bit dicey with occasional rainshowers so I started by running a few errands.  By 2PM the weather was clearing a bit so I rushed home and got ready to head out for a ride.  I got out of the house a bit after 3PM and pointed myself southwest.  I made my way through town and started up into Stevens Canyon.  The skies stayed grey, which provided nice contrast to the yellow canopies of the Sycamore trees in the canyon.  I was the only cyclist, and there were few cars so the ride was pleasant and gave me an opportunity to meditate.  At the top of Mt. Eden I stopped to enjoy the overlook, then turned on all the lights as it was getting into dusk and I wanted to make sure that I was seen as I descended back down to the flatlands.  The ride back was mellow, even when I got back into town and had to mix with the automobile commuters.  The loop was just under 29 miles, a pleasant foray overall.  I enjoyed my brief period as an unemployed person, though I am not sure if the feeling would last through a prolonged period.