This morning, the shortest day of the year, it was dark, lonesome, and freezing cold at about 34F. On such days I did what we usually do when it feels like the nose is about to snap off and fingers are without feeling ... I headed straight up Page Mill.
Unlike most days, Page Mill did not get warmer as I gained elevation. Frost was sparkling in the grassy fields beneath the oak trees all the way up to Montebello Ridge, and even the road was frosty most of the way up.
I was rewarded with one of the most beautiful sunrises of the year as I approached Gate 4. Bright red and orange with surprisingly sharp and vivid azure sky mixed in. I wished I had my camera along, but alas, I have no record and you would have had to be there and suffered with me to appreciate its magnificence. I clocked in at Gate 4 37:30 mins after leaving downtown Los Altos (1:20 behind my fastest time), which felt like a good way to finish what may be my last ride of the year ... unless inspiration hits again next week.
I reached Montebello ridge after 49:30 mins, and chatted a bit with another lonely rider I caught up to on the way up from Gate 4. Then a cautious decent on a sparkling road froze my face into a mask, which still has some remaining traces after a hot shower, coffee, and an hour at work.
Hope to see you sorry denizens of the Cornichon team out there next time. Keep in mind that you now can ride 4 days a week in the most excellent company of David and I. Both of us ride Tuesdays and Fridays, David on Wednesdays and I venture out on Thursdays to accommodate extra long distance swims on Wednesdays (did 3*150 + 600 + 500 + 200 last Wedn). Should you feel like a swim, join me in the slow lane on Wednesdays.
Have a happy new year and a joyful holiday!
--- Rune
Friday, December 21, 2007
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
One is the Lonliest Pickle
So Rune and I have decided to start seeing other weekdays. Rune is currently experimenting with Thursday, while I'm still on Wednesday. You can catch me down at the coffee bar, trying to look cool with my polyester shirt and tight pants.
This morning I rode up to the Christmas Tree farm -- an excellent ride, wet, but not cold, and not foggy (except for my glasses). The moon was slim and high in the sky, and the eastern hills just glowing a bit when I got to the top.
Its kind of a bummer, because I really feel far from my peak performance: At a comfortable pace, I got to gate 4 in about 54 minutes, which is a ways from my all-time best of 47. As far as distance, except for my long rides in Norway and Portugal, I don't think I've ridden farther than 22 miles since the beginning of August. Hopefully this isn't the beginning of some kind of Thompson-like burnout. Next thing you know, I'll be moving to Coeur'd Alene.
On the other hand, I'm out there and having a great ride, so I guess it doesn't matter that much. If anyone knows a sensitive and open rider looking for long sunrise climbs, non-smoker, must like Peet's, please send them my way.
(of course RD and I are still kickin' it on Tuesdays and Fridays)
This morning I rode up to the Christmas Tree farm -- an excellent ride, wet, but not cold, and not foggy (except for my glasses). The moon was slim and high in the sky, and the eastern hills just glowing a bit when I got to the top.
Its kind of a bummer, because I really feel far from my peak performance: At a comfortable pace, I got to gate 4 in about 54 minutes, which is a ways from my all-time best of 47. As far as distance, except for my long rides in Norway and Portugal, I don't think I've ridden farther than 22 miles since the beginning of August. Hopefully this isn't the beginning of some kind of Thompson-like burnout. Next thing you know, I'll be moving to Coeur'd Alene.
On the other hand, I'm out there and having a great ride, so I guess it doesn't matter that much. If anyone knows a sensitive and open rider looking for long sunrise climbs, non-smoker, must like Peet's, please send them my way.
(of course RD and I are still kickin' it on Tuesdays and Fridays)
Monday, December 3, 2007
Sour Pickle Looking for a Sweet Ride
It's starting to feel like time to train up for the next year of knee injuries. As you know, at our household, all weekends are scheduled up to 6 months in advance. I already know that I can't attend the Death Ride, for example.
There are a few rides that will appear on my schedule though, such as:
Solvang Century, March 8th.
TUC, May 10th.
Rides from last year that were fun:
Tierra Bella, April 19th
Sequoia, June 1st
Shasta Century, August 1st
Death Ride, July 12th
I am not sure how it'll all come out this year, but I've promised myself to share the pain and encourage Leo to join me. The most likely outcome is that I'll be riding 50 mile/metric century distances, though I just can't see missing out on all those hills in the TUC.
Speaking of the TUC, we've already made our reservations in Fortuna. This year, we're riding the week before Humboldt State's graduation, so it should be much easier to get a room in town, and they aren't jacking up their prices like last year.
-- Dr P.
There are a few rides that will appear on my schedule though, such as:
Solvang Century, March 8th.
TUC, May 10th.
Rides from last year that were fun:
Tierra Bella, April 19th
Sequoia, June 1st
Shasta Century, August 1st
Death Ride, July 12th
I am not sure how it'll all come out this year, but I've promised myself to share the pain and encourage Leo to join me. The most likely outcome is that I'll be riding 50 mile/metric century distances, though I just can't see missing out on all those hills in the TUC.
Speaking of the TUC, we've already made our reservations in Fortuna. This year, we're riding the week before Humboldt State's graduation, so it should be much easier to get a room in town, and they aren't jacking up their prices like last year.
-- Dr P.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Cornichon of the Mountain (COM)
Just back from 10 days in Portugal (including two 24-hour travel days!).
A very interesting country, with lots of fascinating things in it, including bicycles. I brought plenty of gear for riding, but I wasn't on the ball about renting a bike, so I ended up with only a two-day rental. On the second day, my butt hurt enough that I only did a little riding. :(
The setting: I stayed in the eastern side of the Algarve region, in Tavira. This is a coastal town that predates the Roman occupation. The whole area is quite touristy, though in the past, it has had a lot of industry in fishing, almonds, olives, and honey. The agriculture never really made it out of the medieval age, even now, so its all pretty rustic and decrepit. Off the coast, high mountains (say 1000m?) rise up, and 50-60 km into the interior, you end up with higher plateau country. I'd compare it to the California foothills, except that the land is absolutely cursed with rocks. Every field is surrounded by a rock wall, and it isn't because its pretty.
The websites I'd read suggested that mountain biking is the only pleasurable sport, as the narrow country lanes made it too scary to ride on the roads. After a few days, I realized that this was an overstatement: as long as one is on the lesser roads (still fine quality), the traffic was very light. This could easily be due to it being the off-season, though. I also got the sense that this area is really hot in the summer, and had just cooled down recently (mid-October). The temperature was about 70F, and it rained nicely early the morning after my one long ride.
I got it together to rent a bike on Saturday, but the rental agency I'd picked was closed, and then closed again on Sunday. Finally on Monday (closed again), I stumbled across another choice, and got a bike. I rented a mountain bike for 10euros/day. I could have gotten a road bike, but they only had double chain-ring bikes, and I was planning on doing some hill climbing. After that, I warmed up by riding the bike around town, which was great fun: going up and down hills, on cobblestones, and so forth. Just like Oslo, drivers are very tolerant of bikers, and its easy to meander around without feeling like you are going to be smooshed. I got a bike lock from the rental store, but I noticed that nobody locks their bike up. Of hundreds of bikes, I probably only saw one or two that were actually locked when not in use. Not like Oslo! Anyhow, if I'd gotten a bike with a front basket, I could have stopped at the market and gotten a salmon or an octopus or something and ridden around with it. Oh well.
The day's plan was to ride to the town of Cachopo, which is directly inland (north) of Tavira, by 37K. We hadn't been there yet, but it sounded like there might be some stuff to see there, and it was into the hills, and not a major destination. The start of the road was a few miles of cobblestones leading along the Galt river.
I'll just get it out here, so I don't have to repeat myself. The entire ride was super-mega euro-rural scenic, like a postcard or something. All the houses in Portugal (I shit you not) are painted white, with red tile roofs. There are rock walls everywhere, in various states from new and held together with mortar to ancient, stacked and crumbling. Every bit of arable land, from near the ocean to high in the mountains, will have a rock wall around it, and a half-dozen ancient almond or olive trees. There were also orchards of tiny orange or lemon trees. A new trend inland seemed to be planting forests of pine trees. I wasn't sure if this was for pine nuts, or reforestation, but there were lots. At random intervals were clusters of bee hives for honey. Not a lot of sheep, but some. Some horses; I don't recall any cows. The biggest incongruity was that the road I was on (built in the 1960's or 70's?) was lined with eucalyptus trees. Progress, I guess. The big thing missing for me was that I always like to see old rusty trucks in fields, but in this country, they were probably exclusively using donkeys until about 1990 or so.
The ride was awesome. I made a few mistakes, like not stuffing a loaf of bread, a sausage, and a wheel of cheese into my backpack (I did bring plenty of water). I also didn't wear my padded shorts (d'oh!), though I did wear my Fall River Century jersey. After riding about 30 minutes up the river, the road started to climb. and it went up forever, until the ocean was lost in the haze. Almost all the way up to the first ridge, I stopped at a little market/restaurant, where I was able to procure a bottle of chocolate milk and a Snickers bar. Riding the mountain bike was reasonably comfortable, but those bikes sure don't roll downhill fast! Coming down the other side, I had to pedal some. I was hoping that Cachopo was at the bottom of the hill, but of course, no such luck, and I found myself climbing again. I'd started at about 11am, and by now it was something like 1pm, and pretty hot out. One benefit from being out between 1 and 3pm is that everyone is eating and napping, so there was almost no car traffic -- not that there was much the rest of the time.
Something funny along the way was that there were three or four sets of milestones that had been placed in different eras. One set appeared to be in miles, so it was smaller numbers that didn't change much, and then there were at least two sets of kilometer stones that were measuring from different starting points. Thus, I would have the encouraging sensation of no progress, when I'd pass a "5", then a "5", and then, a "5". :)
At the top of the second hill, I rolled down a little bit, and finally arrived at Cachopo. I think it was around 3pm. I have a pretty strong feeling I didn't do this part quite right: I rolled through the back of the town, down a narrow street, and didn't see any place to stop, so then I rode through what I thought was the main part of town (the other ten houses). I saw a few dark restaurants -- no outdoor seating, no tourists. The only customers looked like wrinkled old men. I didn't feel like trying to speak Portuguese and figuring out how to get food, and so forth, so I just turned around and went back. In retrospect, I think I may not have gone all the way into town, and there might have been a more tourist-friendly spot just around the corner. At any rate, having arrived, I promptly left.
The return journey had less climbing, but my legs were tired, and I really should have eaten more food. Near the top of the big return climb, I stopped at a little shop where a little old lady was selling her honey. I picked up a kilo of honey, and drank a Coke, and sat there, panting, for about ten minutes. We tried to talk, but neither English nor Spanish is anything at all like Portuguese, so we didn't get far. The Coke got me the rest of the way home. Coming down the last long hill was fun, though my rear was quite sore by this time.
Finally, at the bottom of the major hill, I had to ride a few miles of flat along the river valley, then over a short steep hill, and back to the house my parents had rented. I rolled in at 6pm -- a seven hour journey! Based on leg tiredness, I guess that the whole trip was about 6,000 feet of climbing (it was 75km). Jeff, Dena and I went out for dinner than night, and I only frightened everyone one time by jumping to my feet will an immense leg cramp.
The next day, it rained in the morning, and we drove to another town to do some tourism. In the afternoon, I rode my bike down to Tavira (a few km from our house), and spend a couple of hours riding the narrow streets and seeing the sights. It was a blast, but my butt was still sore, and that detracted from the enjoyment). Riding a bike is really the best way to see these small towns, because its easy to hop off, and check out a store, and easy to go down narrow alleys and such, where you might not feel like taking a car. Way more fun than walking too.
In conclusion, I'd definitely say that southern Portugal is great for road biking. If I were ever to do it again, I'd probably try to plan 75K rides that ended in towns where I could stay the night (and have someone bring my stuff from the previous hotel). In this exact area, I'd probably ride up the Guardia river, which is roughly the border between Portugal and Spain. It's a bigger river, there's a road right along it, and the towns appear to have more tourist facilities. You want a town that at least has patio dining as a tourist option! The weather was favorable, though possibly unseasonable -- I'd consider late September or early October, but it could be really hot there! I'd also arrange a bicycle in advance, so that I could be sure of its quality and fit, and bring my own shoes and pedals.
What fun! I would love to do this as a group some year.
David
A very interesting country, with lots of fascinating things in it, including bicycles. I brought plenty of gear for riding, but I wasn't on the ball about renting a bike, so I ended up with only a two-day rental. On the second day, my butt hurt enough that I only did a little riding. :(
The setting: I stayed in the eastern side of the Algarve region, in Tavira. This is a coastal town that predates the Roman occupation. The whole area is quite touristy, though in the past, it has had a lot of industry in fishing, almonds, olives, and honey. The agriculture never really made it out of the medieval age, even now, so its all pretty rustic and decrepit. Off the coast, high mountains (say 1000m?) rise up, and 50-60 km into the interior, you end up with higher plateau country. I'd compare it to the California foothills, except that the land is absolutely cursed with rocks. Every field is surrounded by a rock wall, and it isn't because its pretty.
The websites I'd read suggested that mountain biking is the only pleasurable sport, as the narrow country lanes made it too scary to ride on the roads. After a few days, I realized that this was an overstatement: as long as one is on the lesser roads (still fine quality), the traffic was very light. This could easily be due to it being the off-season, though. I also got the sense that this area is really hot in the summer, and had just cooled down recently (mid-October). The temperature was about 70F, and it rained nicely early the morning after my one long ride.
I got it together to rent a bike on Saturday, but the rental agency I'd picked was closed, and then closed again on Sunday. Finally on Monday (closed again), I stumbled across another choice, and got a bike. I rented a mountain bike for 10euros/day. I could have gotten a road bike, but they only had double chain-ring bikes, and I was planning on doing some hill climbing. After that, I warmed up by riding the bike around town, which was great fun: going up and down hills, on cobblestones, and so forth. Just like Oslo, drivers are very tolerant of bikers, and its easy to meander around without feeling like you are going to be smooshed. I got a bike lock from the rental store, but I noticed that nobody locks their bike up. Of hundreds of bikes, I probably only saw one or two that were actually locked when not in use. Not like Oslo! Anyhow, if I'd gotten a bike with a front basket, I could have stopped at the market and gotten a salmon or an octopus or something and ridden around with it. Oh well.
The day's plan was to ride to the town of Cachopo, which is directly inland (north) of Tavira, by 37K. We hadn't been there yet, but it sounded like there might be some stuff to see there, and it was into the hills, and not a major destination. The start of the road was a few miles of cobblestones leading along the Galt river.
I'll just get it out here, so I don't have to repeat myself. The entire ride was super-mega euro-rural scenic, like a postcard or something. All the houses in Portugal (I shit you not) are painted white, with red tile roofs. There are rock walls everywhere, in various states from new and held together with mortar to ancient, stacked and crumbling. Every bit of arable land, from near the ocean to high in the mountains, will have a rock wall around it, and a half-dozen ancient almond or olive trees. There were also orchards of tiny orange or lemon trees. A new trend inland seemed to be planting forests of pine trees. I wasn't sure if this was for pine nuts, or reforestation, but there were lots. At random intervals were clusters of bee hives for honey. Not a lot of sheep, but some. Some horses; I don't recall any cows. The biggest incongruity was that the road I was on (built in the 1960's or 70's?) was lined with eucalyptus trees. Progress, I guess. The big thing missing for me was that I always like to see old rusty trucks in fields, but in this country, they were probably exclusively using donkeys until about 1990 or so.
The ride was awesome. I made a few mistakes, like not stuffing a loaf of bread, a sausage, and a wheel of cheese into my backpack (I did bring plenty of water). I also didn't wear my padded shorts (d'oh!), though I did wear my Fall River Century jersey. After riding about 30 minutes up the river, the road started to climb. and it went up forever, until the ocean was lost in the haze. Almost all the way up to the first ridge, I stopped at a little market/restaurant, where I was able to procure a bottle of chocolate milk and a Snickers bar. Riding the mountain bike was reasonably comfortable, but those bikes sure don't roll downhill fast! Coming down the other side, I had to pedal some. I was hoping that Cachopo was at the bottom of the hill, but of course, no such luck, and I found myself climbing again. I'd started at about 11am, and by now it was something like 1pm, and pretty hot out. One benefit from being out between 1 and 3pm is that everyone is eating and napping, so there was almost no car traffic -- not that there was much the rest of the time.
Something funny along the way was that there were three or four sets of milestones that had been placed in different eras. One set appeared to be in miles, so it was smaller numbers that didn't change much, and then there were at least two sets of kilometer stones that were measuring from different starting points. Thus, I would have the encouraging sensation of no progress, when I'd pass a "5", then a "5", and then, a "5". :)
At the top of the second hill, I rolled down a little bit, and finally arrived at Cachopo. I think it was around 3pm. I have a pretty strong feeling I didn't do this part quite right: I rolled through the back of the town, down a narrow street, and didn't see any place to stop, so then I rode through what I thought was the main part of town (the other ten houses). I saw a few dark restaurants -- no outdoor seating, no tourists. The only customers looked like wrinkled old men. I didn't feel like trying to speak Portuguese and figuring out how to get food, and so forth, so I just turned around and went back. In retrospect, I think I may not have gone all the way into town, and there might have been a more tourist-friendly spot just around the corner. At any rate, having arrived, I promptly left.
The return journey had less climbing, but my legs were tired, and I really should have eaten more food. Near the top of the big return climb, I stopped at a little shop where a little old lady was selling her honey. I picked up a kilo of honey, and drank a Coke, and sat there, panting, for about ten minutes. We tried to talk, but neither English nor Spanish is anything at all like Portuguese, so we didn't get far. The Coke got me the rest of the way home. Coming down the last long hill was fun, though my rear was quite sore by this time.
Finally, at the bottom of the major hill, I had to ride a few miles of flat along the river valley, then over a short steep hill, and back to the house my parents had rented. I rolled in at 6pm -- a seven hour journey! Based on leg tiredness, I guess that the whole trip was about 6,000 feet of climbing (it was 75km). Jeff, Dena and I went out for dinner than night, and I only frightened everyone one time by jumping to my feet will an immense leg cramp.
The next day, it rained in the morning, and we drove to another town to do some tourism. In the afternoon, I rode my bike down to Tavira (a few km from our house), and spend a couple of hours riding the narrow streets and seeing the sights. It was a blast, but my butt was still sore, and that detracted from the enjoyment). Riding a bike is really the best way to see these small towns, because its easy to hop off, and check out a store, and easy to go down narrow alleys and such, where you might not feel like taking a car. Way more fun than walking too.
In conclusion, I'd definitely say that southern Portugal is great for road biking. If I were ever to do it again, I'd probably try to plan 75K rides that ended in towns where I could stay the night (and have someone bring my stuff from the previous hotel). In this exact area, I'd probably ride up the Guardia river, which is roughly the border between Portugal and Spain. It's a bigger river, there's a road right along it, and the towns appear to have more tourist facilities. You want a town that at least has patio dining as a tourist option! The weather was favorable, though possibly unseasonable -- I'd consider late September or early October, but it could be really hot there! I'd also arrange a bicycle in advance, so that I could be sure of its quality and fit, and bring my own shoes and pedals.
What fun! I would love to do this as a group some year.
David
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