Travels With Edwina

Or that’s what the human decided.  It was the stupidest idea the human ever had.  And that was to ride a 200km brevet after finishing nearly 500 miles in 6 days in the northern desert.  Oh, maybe to a southerner that might not seem like much, but, remember, the human and I are northerners.  We’ve been in winter; we come down to Tucson to ride for a week in March.  I haven’t been on the road since fall; the human only to commute to work.

But, the human said that getting in a 200k in March, even if it was slow and uncomfortable would be a morale boost for our future training.  That is what the human said…and it was what the human kept muttering from well before 100km.  So, why didn’t we just quit?  Ah…there’s the rub.

First, let me tell you that the human is stubborn.  Really stubborn.  We committed to this ride, we started it, so, darn it, we’re going to finish it.  Sigh….did the human ever think that maybe, just maybe, I was tired, too?  Maybe I would like to quit? Hmmmm???

Second, and more important, there was a cheering squad supporting us.  OK, they weren’t on the ride with us, but we knew they were there.  As the human’s other half likes to quip…my human is “chipped”.  Now, the other half alone doesn’t make up a cheering squad.  What does make up a cheering squad is the PAC Tour crew who were doing their betwixt-tour duties back at the hotel.   You couldn’t ask for a better cheering squad.  We couldn’t really hear them all those miles away, but we knew that they were keeping tabs on us and cheering us on.  We couldn’t let them down.  Well, and there was that beer that was promised when we finished–a Phoenix Ale Brewing Company Watermelon Ale to be precise.

So we plowed along (tootling was no longer the operative word).  Pushing up the hills.  Pushing into the wind (not as strong as Friday’s, but present).  And we finished.  9:38 for 200km.  We were tired.  Zombie tired.  And that beer?  Sigh…we arrived 10 minutes before a storm.  So, we got the beer and good food, but missed out on sitting outside and just chillin’ with the crew.  Next time.

But, was it really the stupidest idea ever?  Yes…and no.  We were feeing pretty darn good for the first 5 days of this trip.  We were finishing 90 mile rides with energy to spare and riding at a respectable pace.  Heck, we even finished Friday’s 90 miles with headwind without too much difficulty.  One could say that we thought this fall’s transcontinental would not be as hard as we thought.

Now we know otherwise.  We have work to do, the human and I.  We need to do those long rides including a couple of 300km/200mile rides.  We need to keep up the intervals and get just a little faster yet.  We’ve got a long way to go, the road ahead is not insurmountable, but it will take work to get there.  Now, I’m up for it…we’ll se about the human.

As a bicycle, I am well acquainted with the wind.  We have tail winds, cross winds, head winds; we have gentle winds, nagging winds, strong winds; we have hot winds, warm winds, cool winds, cold winds and frigid winds.  Today, however, we had none of these.

Today we had a granny wind.  What’s a granny wind?  A granny wind is a wind that makes you drop into your granny gear on the flat.  A granny wind is so strong that the only way you can even hope to maintain a decent cadence is if you’re running in your granny gear.  Today we had such a wind for nearly 70 of our 90 miles.  For about 15 miles we had a cross wind and were able to actually pedal — one cannot say enough about how great those 15 miles felt!

But for 5 miles we had what at best can be described as a great granny wind.  In cycling parlance, the great granny gear (aka la nonna) is when the hill is so steep you have to get off and walk.  Now, my human did not get off and walk, but for 5 miles as we came down a 3% gradient, the human had to pedal (and pedal hard) just to maintain 12 mph.  I’d call that a great granny wind.

Needless to say, we’re pooped.  While we got to ride through Saguaro West again and, because of the wind, really take the time to enjoy the scenery, it was a very long day for us.  So, I’m going to get an extra nap while the human goes out to Tasteful Kitchen for some good food.  Hopefully, tomorrow we’ll be up for our first brevet…200km tomorrow….can we do it?

We’ve been a long way, the human and I.  We’ve travelled many a road and accomplished many things.  Eight years ago we came down to Tucson and “stretched” our limits by riding 50-60 miles every day for a week.  So far this week we have 3 rides in near 90 and 2 100Ks; tomorrow, we will do another short 90 into the wind.  While we’re sure that at the end of the ride we’ll be tired, we’ll do it, none the same and not stress about whether we can make it.

But, what does that have to do with today’s adventure?  Today we backtracked our route from a few days ago.  Then, it was raining with strong headwinds; today it was sunny with strong headwinds, but that’s not the point.  The point is how different the same road can look depending upon when you’re there.  Each pass you see something different; each pass you ponder something new; each pass makes you stronger.

OK, maybe I spent too much time thinking, but the human was moving really slowly today in the wind.  Just about the time that I was losing my patience with the human, I realized that today’s ride was 61 miles with a 600′ elevation gain and a direct headwind the entire way.  Sure, the human was riding slow, but 10 years ago the human would have ridden a flat 100K in the same time.  Yes, each pass makes you stronger.

No sooner had we turned off the main highway, than what did we see?  One of those evil 4 wheeled, gas guzzling beasts all aflame!  To add insult to injury it had the audacity to burn up in my lane.  The bike lane is for bikes, not for cars…and, really, can’t those horrible beasts keep themselves controlled?  It is bad enough some of them whiz past me way too close and others smell like they haven’t been tuned…well,..ever, but to set yourself aflame?  That makes no sense.

I mean, those beasts suck down petroleum at a ridiculous rate just so they can go fast…and, apparently, burn up.  Now, us elegant two-wheeled beasts, on the other hand, sip just a little oil now and then for our chains and rarely ever heat up.  OK, my rims did get a little warm once, but it wasn’t my fault — if my human wouldn’t ride the brakes down the mountain, my rims would stay cool.  But, just feed my human some food and I move fast enough.

But, once we got past that mess, it was an absolutely gorgeous ride.  A short climb over the pass and then downhill all the way to Gila Bend.  Even the human’s other half got to ride a bit because the going was easy on the lungs.

Tomorrow, we work.

Woke up (yes, even bicycles sleep…sigh) to the sound of the birds outside our window.  Having just come from the cold north where we have only the smaller winter population of birds that don’t waste energy singing, the birds were deafening.  From your classic LBB to magpies, it was a pleasure to hear.

Then, as we rode from Gila Bend to Wickenberg, we were accompanied by a cacophony of bird songs.  We saw many a LBB and MBB, but also road runner, cactus wren, vulture, crow, hawk, egret (ok, only my human’s other half saw those) and a new bird for me, phainopepla.  A long name for a glossy black cardinal-ish bird.  Very pretty in the sunshine.  One followed us for a while flitting from tree to tree.  But the most vocal of all were the cactus wren, sitting atop the saguaros.  Multiple songs all belted out such that we had no trouble hearing it even with the wind.

Speaking of wind.  Today was a mixed day.  We started and finished with a headwind, but had a really nice tailwind for the middle 40-ish miles.  Since today’s ride was mostly uphill, albeit only slightly uphill, the tailwind really flattened out that section.

But, the human is doing OK.  Today we rode near the middle of the pack despite keeping a light touch on the chain.  Another day of almost 90 miles with energy left at the end of the day.  But, we’re only 3 days in…4 more to go.  We’ll see how they human fares on Saturday.

The forecast called for rain so we hit the road early to try to avoid the worst of it.  It was windy (headwinds, darn it), but we got 23.5 miles in before the rain started.  And not just rain!  Hail!  Yuck.  It got cold (40F) and the wind picked up just as the road headed up.  It was a long, slow slog, but, finally, we made it to Dave’s rest stop where a cup of hot chocolate was waiting for my human.  Me?  I got left in the rain <grrr />.

The human decided to keep on riding (weird animal that human) and soon we’d crested the hill and had a nice gentle downhill.  The wind was just right and was blowing across the drain holes in my tubes and I was singing….singing in the rain…happy again….singing in the rain…drat….flat.  Sigh…that’s what happens when you on the freeway in the rain — you pick up shrapnel and hurt the tires.  No worries.  The human can fix a flat in the PAC Tour requisite 10 minutes and we’ll be back to singing in now time.

But, no joy.  The bike shop tightened down the valve stabilizer too tight and the human couldn’t get it off.  Now, those of you who know my human, might think that that was when I learned a new word, but nope, the human stayed calm and waited for the next group of riders.  Maybe one of them would have stronger hands or a small pliers.

Finally, along came the Swiss contingent.  One of them took my wheel and tried to undo the ring and said something; handed it to the other.  They then worked on that wheel for several minutes and kept saying “Scheiß”.  I figured it must mean, “oh, poor pretty bike is broken”, but when I told that to the other bikes on the rack they just giggle, so I’m not so sure any more.  But, they were such nice guys and they managed to get that stupid ring off and me back on the road….

I’m singing in the rain
Just singing in the rain
What a glorious feeling
I’m happy again

Tomorrow Wickenberg

Ahem….testing…testing….is this mic on? Speech to text enabled? ….excellent…

I suppose introductions are in order. My name is Edwina and I am a fine example of a Waterford steel bicycle. If you’ve met me on the road, you’d remember me. I’m absolutely stunning. Pale yellow finish with silver trim, accented by lovely S&S couplers. Who ever thought a bike couldn’t be elegant?

Oh, sure, there are some sleeker racing bikes out there, but, me? I’m designed for touring. Steady, all-day riding. That’s my game. While you often find me tooling around the upper Midwest, I’ve travelled in eight states and two provinces. But this year….this year, I’m going to do a transcontinental bike ride. San Diego, California to Tybee Island, Georgia.  In a month! Woohoo! No sitting on the shelf this year for this steely beast! Well…maybe…

I’m going to get to do that transcontinental if and only if my human gets their butt in shape. You see, my human is…uh…errr….how do I put this delicately?!?!?!?….uh….my human is….uh….not the swiftest pair of legs on the planet. That’s a problem. Oh, sure the human claims it is an age thing. Hrrrmpph…some of the humans we ride with are in their 70’s and 80s and we can’t keep up. Nope. Not buying it.

So to keep my human honest and to keep prodding that sorry human posterior into riding, I’ve started this blog. Here I will squeal (excuse me, report) on my human’s progress (or lack thereof).  Stay tuned…