Barner's Babble

Making Tracks with the Saratoga & North Creek RR

2011-07-30T11:53:00.000-04:00

In preparation for a visit to the Albany, NY area, I visited the website of the Mohawk & Hudson Cycling Club (http://webmhcc.org), my old bike club, to see what group rides they had scheduled. I noticed an announcement that the Saratoga & North Creek Railroad was allowing bicycles on board at no extra charge. I visited the S&NCRR website (http://www.sncrr.com/) and it seemed that the schedule could fit nicely into our itinerary. My wife and I were planning to bring our tandem with us anyway, so we decided to check out the train and, if they could accommodate such a long bike, we'd board The Hudson Explorer at Saratoga Springs at 10 am, ride it to the terminus at North Creek, and then ride the tandem back to our car in Saratoga.

The 1885 Hadley Parabolic Bridge as seen from the train

Arriving at the station a little after 9 am, we were told that they could indeed fit our 90” tandem on board, so we bought our tickets and boarded. The dome car had been sold out, but there were lots of seats available in the air conditioned double-decker car. After a somewhat slow start on the way out of Saratoga, the train sped up to around 30 mph, which was slow enough to allow us to see the scenery, but fast enough to avoid the feeling of poking along that you can get on some excursion trains. Since the rails wind through the southern Adirondacks, one can expect a lot of trees close to the tracks, but we found that the pine forest was easy to see into and there were lots of places with great views across the Hudson River. The first half of the trip was on welded, continuous rail and thus quite smooth, but even after the rails reverted to the older, bolted style, the ride never got rough. Personally, I prefer the “clickety clack” of the old-style rails. Obviously, the S&NCRR folks have put a lot of effort into rebuilding this once-abandoned rail bed. The staff were extremely friendly and helpful—the conductor even spent time talking with us during the ride and letting us know where the best places to snap some photos would be.

The restored North Creek RR station was built in 1874

The 1874 North Creek station is one of the oldest surviving rural train stations in the US. It has historical significance in that it was where, in 1901, Vice President Teddy Roosevelt got the news of President William McKinley's assassination. The station is nicely restored and includes a museum and an extensive gift shop for those seeking souvenirs (http://www.northcreekdepotmuseum.com/).

After watching the conductor manually work the switch as the engine moved to the south end of the train, we headed into tiny North Creek. We stopped at Cafe Sarah's for some tasty sandwiches and then rode out of town. We had planned to follow a suggested return route that we had downloaded from the MHCC's website, but found that River Rd. was a dirt road. Unpaved Adirondack roads tend to be sandy, and the surface was sketchy enough under our 28mm tires that we decided to head out of town on NY Rte. 28, instead. Riders on wider tires, such as those typically found on hybrids or mountain bikes, should be fine with River Rd. Rte. 28 was lightly trafficked and had a nice shoulder that was up to 4' wide in places. Most of the shoulder looked fairly new, though it did deteriorate in places.

The first five miles out of North Creek is a series of short, easy climbs. From that point on, the route is more downhill than up, with about a 600' difference in elevation between the start and end. The highest elevation is around 1,300', and there are a few climbs, but the steepest ones are quite short and could easily be walked by those who prefer to save their efforts. We found it quite an easy ride on the tandem, averaging a bit over 17 mph, overall. Our highest speed on the descents was over 45 mph, but we like to go fast.

The S&NCRR Merganser on its return trip to North Creek

Once we left Rte. 28, turning onto the Glen Athol Rd, we found ourselves on a really nice, narrow, paved road with almost no motor vehicle traffic. We got an extra treat when we arrived at a crossing just as the Merganser, another train that the S&NCRR runs between North Creek and Thurman Station, was approaching. We had just enough time to fish out the camera and catch a shot of the train going by. The road surface got better and better as we approached Stony Creek, with fresh asphalt all the way to Hadley. We crossed the historic 1885 Hadley Parabolic Bridge, which is the only remaining example of this type of construction (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hadley_Bow_Bridge). This bridge is clearly visible from the railroad bridge, so be sure to look for it out the windows on the east side of the train.

Shortly after crossing the Hadley bridge, the route joins NY Rte. 9N. This road can get busy at times, and the shoulder, which is wide in most places, is not the smoothest for bicycle traffic. We had no difficulties, but when we do this ride again, we will leave 9N in Corinth and take side roads back to Saratoga. There are a number of nice routes that you can take on either the east or west sides of 9N, though it appears that the least hilly options are to the east.

If there's a caboose, I'm going to get a photo

The conductor told us that we were the first cyclists to bring our bikes on board the new train. We had a great time and highly recommend this as a day trip. If the 60-mile ride back seems too far, you could take the train to North Creek with your bike and cycle local roads for several hours, returning on the 3:45 pm run to Saratoga, or you could disembark at any of several intermediary whistle-stops, taking a shorter route back to the Saratoga station. For example, the ride back from Thurman Station would be an easy 40 miles. The cost of a ticket is as little as $13 ($19 round-trip), and discounted senior and child rates are available. The actual cycling time for us was around 3 ½ hours. There are morning and evening trains in both directions, making a variety of riding options available. We highly recommend this trip and are confident that, like us, you'll be left thinking about when you can take advantage of this wonderful opportunity again.

For a recommended return route, see http://ridewithgps.com/routes/578654

A Picasa album of photos is available at http://goo.gl/wDfWa

YAC (Yet Another Century)

2011-05-30T21:20:00.000-04:00

Fourth century this month, on a warm, late-May day. Working to get in shape for the 100-200, which is only three weeks away, now. A small group of five of us started out from Williston at 8 am, enjoying the light Memorial Day traffic. Three were originally planning on peeling off before Middlebury Gap, but as it turned out, this didn't happen as planned.

The first adventure happened when Todd broke his rear derailleur cable, just north of Bristol. Jeff had a spare and we tried replacing it, but too many cooks spoil the broth and the cable got installed incorrectly. Todd had family nearby and a bit of a plan, so we left him there by the side of the road and continued south.


Jeff, Annie and John at the top of Middlebury Gap

We had been setting a strong pace, enjoying a nice tailwind, and I knew I needed to set my own pace climbing Middlebury Gap. John and Annie changed their plans and decided to do the entire loop, it being such a nice day. Also, Todd had called to say that he had been able to fix the cable and he was going to ride over Lincoln Gap and rejoin us on Rte 100. The river through Ripton was running fast and strong, making quite a sight in places. The other three got to the top of the gap long before I did, but there were no complaints. I took the lead on the descent, breaking 50 mph on the bumpy pavement, as the others proved their superior intelligence by using their brakes.

The tailwind became a headwind on the way back up Rte 100, though it wasn't too bad going through Granville Gulf, where the waterfalls were blasting away after all the recent rain. Sure enough, we spotted Todd just south of the intersection with Lincoln Gap. We bounced along the broken pavement between Warren and Irasville, and then it was time to climb App. Gap.

Jeff, John, myself, Annie and Todd at the top of App Gap

Todd and John danced to the top of App Gap, with the rest of us nursing our sore legs up the mountain. We met up with another rider, who joined us on the ride down, all the way to the end of the Hollow Rd. I bombed down the hill first, again, and planted myself at the final switchback to get some shots. I didn't trust having time to get the camera into burst mode before the other riders showed up (I would have), because the menu system is cumbersome, and the annoyingly long delay of the Olympus SW series of cameras meant that some of the riders went by before the camera caught the image. Having used this camera for a few years, I can say with some authority that it is totally lousy for any kind of action photography.

The guy who joined us at the top of the Gap

Annie rounds the switchback...

...with John and Jeff close behind. The camera missed Todd.

We got back around 4 pm, with the stops for the broken cable, a flat, and extra store breaks, due to the heat. Having ridden to the start, I added an extra 25 miles, for a total on 129 miles. I found the Brooks Swallow saddle more comfortable than the first time I tried it on the Klein, but I think I'll swap it for a Brooks Pro again for the 100-200, as I don't think my but would like to sit on it for another 90 miles.

Spring Centuries

2011-05-08T10:43:00.000-04:00

The cliffs along Appalachian Gap were shedding chunks of ice onto the road.

Rode a couple of centuries in May so far, just six days apart. The first was a Gap-Notch ride. I had a delay after glancing back to check for overtaking traffic before moving out to round a curve. I was going about 45mph and the wind caught my glasses and tore them off. It took me an hour to find them, but I was able to straighten them out and wear them again.

Still snow on the ski trails in Stowe.

The road through Smugglers' Notch is still closed to cars--I found out why!

I wasn't the first person to go through the Notch this year on a road bike, as I saw a fresh track from some other intrepid cyclist. Neither one of us can say we actually rode the Notch, though, as that would have been impossible.

This spring was incredible in the way it was gushing out the side of the mountain, creating an instant brook.

The Notch had over a foot of snow on the road in several places.

This is a shot looking straight down at the Brewster River from the Edwards Rd bridge. Most people in cars never even know this amazing scene is there, beneath them.

Beautiful view of Mt. Mansfield from Upper Pleasant Valley Rd.

On May 6th, I reprised last year's century, riding to the VT Design Technology Education Assosiactions spring conference at VT Technical College in Randolph. I got a bit of a late start this year, not leaving until 5:45am (I should have left at 5:00, but we had attended an excellent concert by Quartetto Gelato in Stowe the night before). I rode the 50 miles to the conference and back, adding in a hilly little 20-mile loop with "the gang" after the conference.

The early morning mist along the Winooski River reminded me of cycling through Savanna.

I love this view of Rte 12 at Baker Pond, perhaps because it means the long climb is almost done.

These geese must have been nesting on the little rock in Baker Pond as they honked up quite a racket when I looked their way.

The tiny church in East Braintree.

The short church was built in 1817, making it one of the oldest surviving buildings in the state.

I decided to try taking Howard Hill Rd from Rte 12 over to the Ridge Rd this year, not having any idea of how incredibly steep it is. I stopped to take this photo of the stream that runs alongside the road, partly because it indicates the pitch of the road. To make things worse, the grader had just gone up the road--I caught it at the end.

The entire South Burlington team did the après-conference ride this year.

Bob Lindemann, Olaf Verdonk and our old friend and now VTC guy, Andy Myrick, joined us for the ride, giving us a great crew.

Jay rides across the floating bridge in Brookfield.

The Rte 66 hill is a real buster, but Erin really wanted to ride it and he cleaned the whole climb, meeting his big goal.

I love this view from the Ridge Rd, with the rolling hills in the background. Quintessential Vermont.

I decided to go over Moretown Mountain on the way home, for variety and to ride the three covered bridges. You can just see one in the upper left.

A closer view. Why truckers don't use more care when they cross these is a mystery. This kind of damage is so easily avoided, it's a very poor reflection on the professionalism of some drivers.

The lower two bridges use Town Lattice construction, while the third has a Queenpost design.

Cox Brook was running strong and beautiful.

Most of the dirt was quite good, though still a little on the rippled side, after mud season. Parts of the upper section had been recently graded, but I had the right bike and tires for this kind of work.

The glimpse of Camels Hump tells you you've reached the top.

The historic weathervane on the old church in Duxbury.

I finished up the ride in the dark, with the sound of the spring peepers along the Duxbury Rd so loud it was almost painful. A very pleasant 200k spring ride.

Should be Skiing

2011-02-13T09:37:00.000-05:00

We've been having a great snow year up here in Northern Vermont. The temperature has not gone above freezing in over a month and the snow is both deep and excellent, with a light, fluffy body on a dense base. We had our coldest temps in many years a couple weeks ago, dipping to -20 F, but it didn't last long. There have been many morning, though, with the temp hovering around 10 degrees, which is about the lower limit of what I'm willing to ride. It's early February and I have just tipped 500 miles for the year. Not very impressive. I did venture out when it was around zero one day, but it's tough to get past the nasty bite the air puts on you without resorting to face masks and the like and I find these accessories obnoxious and uncomfortable. I snapped the pic above early Friday morning on my ride into work. I had pulled over on the steep descent on my dirt road to let a couple cars get by, as a layer of snow over the frozen ruts was making the descent dicey, as it usually does. The temp was 10 degrees when I left, but it was probably colder than that at this spot.

I confess to having let this great snow slip by, as I haven't been out on the skis at all this winter. It's hard to get motivated when Jeanne hasn't been able to join me as she is recovering from some foot surgery and the dog is too arthritic to go bounding through the woods any more. I just find excuses to do other things, like cut wood or move snow around on my days off. This may change today, though, as we've made a ski date for Sunday afternoon.

Beginning and Ending a Solid Cycling Year

2011-01-17T03:00:00.002-05:00

2010 was the first year in which I made an effort to complete a century ride at least once each month. The winter months in Vermont present a real challenge to this kind of goal, especially if your work schedule is as busy as mine. I was able to slip in a 113 mile ride in November, though my hands were pretty cold by the time I finished. December proved to be the biggest challenge. There were a couple of days in which conditions were good enough, but other commitments got in the way. As it was, I opted for January 1st. Technically, I guess I missed it by one day, but since it was my own goal, and with 16 other centuries during 2010 , I'm counting it as a goal accomplished.

The temperature was 38 degrees when I started, around 8:30 am. I would have started earlier, but I had hoped that I might get some other locals to join me, having announced the ride as a New Year's double-gap century, though it didn't turn out that way. Larry Colletti, the local bike club VP, had organized what he claimed was a shorter, easier ride out of South Burlington that day. As a reply to some "trash talk" from Larry about their ride, I concocted the following "real" ride report, to set the record straight.

The obligatory Top of App Gap photo.

"Having heard from no one about joining me for the 1/1/11 Double Gap ride, I cruised past the Round Church in Richmond a little before 9 and, seeing no one on two wheels, decided to do a solo. I wasn't feeling strong, but it wasn't too bad, either, with temps in the upper 30s and a general damp in the air. I was just plugging away on my ancient Atala through Huntington until I got to App Gap. I was struggling up the Gap, feeling generally weak and queezy, when I heard the rumble of carbon fiber and suddenly this phalanx of GMBC yellow and green streaked past. Kevin, of course was in the lead, with Colletti nipping at his heels. Coleman had his helmet cam facing backwards so he would get something besides butt shots for a change, followed closely by David White who was riding an original Mario Confente tricked out with HED carbon wheels and the unobtainium Campy 16-speed cassette. I think there were a few others in the pack, then a tiny gap and poor Anders struggling to hang on. "C'mon, guys," he pleaded, " this is supposed to be just a training ride!" Ellie was pulling around Newberry and said "Hop on!" as if I could. It was all I could do to wave weakly at the group as they disappeared around the switchbacks.

"I really felt bad as I climbed that last kick at the top of the Gap. Looking down at my old Sigma Sport at one point, it only registered 2 mph. I got a real shock at the top when I looked over at the cliff along the south face and saw that someone had just scratched "KB 1111 15:37 FROM 116!" in the ice with a CO2 cartridge. I tried all last summer to break 20 minutes starting from the stop sign at the end of the Main Rd and here Bessette had broken 16 minutes from the bottom of the Baby Gap! I just hung my head and cried.

"I started to feel a little better going down the cold east side, but I was getting chilled, so I headed up the inappropriately named German Flats Rd (which has absolutely no level sections) to warm back up again. I was starting to feel really bad at this point. I was thinking it might be worth it to get a room at one of the lodges and just crash. All I wanted to do was curl up and take a nap. I headed south on Rte 100 but when I got to Warren I decided that I didn't really want to climb another Gap or get that far from my truck in Jonesville, so I turned around and headed north again. I stopped at the Macs outside of Warren to warm up. I had forgotten my water bottle, so I bought one of their $2 specials and filled it with Gatorade and sat down to warm up with a cup of coffee. I confess to losing my breakfast in the rest room, which made me feel a bit better, and after a pretty long break, bundled up to trundle north again.

The Mad River at Moretown

"I took the easy route along 100B, to avoid climbing Duxbury Hill, and was on the west side of Waterbury when I heard that sound that only a herd of crabone fibre lackies can make. Shocked, I watched the GMBC peloton scream by again. Colletti must have read the look of wonder in my eyes, because he yelled out "Second lap!" as he went by. I was actually sobbing at this point when I heard Andre Sturm's deep bass voice boom out "PREEEM" as he sprinted up the Bolton Dam climb, charging past the pack, with shards of carbon and epoxy popping out all over the road behind him. Again, the green and yellow circus disappeared around the bend at the top of the hill, the rumble gently subsiding like one of the freights as it rolls away down the rails along the river.

"I got back to Jonesville around 2 pm and looked longingly at my truck sitting there, but I had really wanted to get in a century on 1/1/11 and I convinced myself that I only needed to climb 18 miles up the Huntington Road again and, if I could just do that, I could then turn around and it would be almost all downhill back and I'd have my hundred miles. I was so discouraged from being passed unceremoniously by our dear VP and his crew, that I wanted to feel like I had gotten something accomplished, no matter how meager compared to the "Fast Boyz." I slogged along up through Huntington and was climbing the Hanksville Hill when -- you guessed it -- I heard the rumble coming again. This time, I pulled right off the road and stood in the soggy snowbank as Colletti came around the corner on the climb, out of the saddle, veins popping out of his neck. Hearing that unmistakable staccato steel on pavement sound, my eyes popped as I realized he was riding on studded tires! Still, he was putting a serious dent into Kevin, who was straining to stay on his wheel. The rest of the crew came through in a double pace line, with poor Anders in the caboose, sniffling something about going back to Belgium where they don't have these hills.

Passing the Round Church for the third time

"Totally discouraged, cold, and riding solo again, I turned back at the cemetery and started the easy ride back in the dwindling light. I had packed a sandwich and other goodies, but had felt too poorly to eat anything all day, completing the cold century on a single bottle of Gatorade. This, of course, meant that my legs started getting wicked cramps on every climb for the last 15 miles, but I was able to walk these out or avoid them by getting out of the saddle. I finally made it back to Jonesville with my lights blazing, happy to be done and extremely grateful to have seen the last of Coletti and that dam GMBC crowd.

Total mileage, 101. Elevation gain, 5,760. Sick, cold, in other words, if not for those GMBC folks, a perfect ride!

Six Gaps

2010-10-16T22:36:00.001-04:00

I had to drive down to Albany to attend a meeting at RPI. I stayed with my brother that night, but he was getting up at 3 am to go climb mountains in the Adirondacks. I got up at the same time, leaving well before dawn, which placed me in Brandon at first light. I decided to do a double-gap ride, going up over Brandon and coming back over either Middlebury or App Gaps, depending on how I felt. I was riding the Bianchi Giro, a late-80s, Campy Athena equipped Columbus SLX bike. It's a great one for long rides like this, as it's setup with clinchers and two water bottle cages, and is a comfortable, classic ride. It also had a 28 tooth large cog in the back, giving me a passable low gear for the mountains when matched with a 42-tooth chainring.

Sun coming up on Brandon Gap

Brandon Gap was a nice warm-up. The air was cool, but I was fine with a light vest. The fall foliage was starting to turn, with yellows and oranges being most prominent.

Cresting Brandon Gap

The ride down the east side of Brandon Gap is always nice; a long, steady drop that lets you coast or pedal easily for miles and miles. I felt great when I got to Rochester and was toying with the idea of going over Rochester Gap, but decided half-way up to try for a bigger challenge and look for Rochester Little Hollow Rd, a dirt track that is supposed to go over the mountain to Riford Brook Rd, eventually connecting with Rte 12A.

Middle Hollow Rd., Rochester

Not having planned this ahead of time, I of course missed the turn, so the likely "bike-carry over the mountain" didn't happen this day. Instead, I enjoyed Middle Hollow Rd, which I've actually wanted to explore for quite some time.

Sugar house beside North Hollow Rd.

Ah, fall. The dirt was fine under 25mm tires

South Hollow Cemetery is on North Hollow Rd.
Doesn't look like anyone new has moved in for over 100 years.

I found myself eventually on Town Line Rd, which seems to have an identity crisis with North Hollow Rd. I recognized Braintree Gap when I passed its western terminus and followed the dirt to Rte 100 at the top of Granville Gulf. Since I was now beyond Middlebury Gap and it was still early in the day, I decided to try getting Jeanne on the phone to see if she would want to ride the tandem back to Brandon. Being Vermont, I couldn't get a signal on my cell phone, which also had a low battery, in spite of my having charged it in the car. I worked my way up to Appalachian Gap and even tried borrowing a cell phone from a group of riders I found resting at the top, but it was of no use.

The obligatory "Top of App Gap" photo

I decided to ride north, at least far enough to get to the magic spot in Huntington where I knew I could get a signal. I stopped when I turned onto the Huntington Rd to see if I could get any bars on the phone and when I started up again, the guys who I had met at the top of the Gap passed me. The last one said "Hang onto a wheel, if you can" I chuckled, and proceeded to pass and drop them. I had already ridden 60 miles and had a long way yet to go.

Although I did finally get a signal, Jeanne wasn't near the phone, so I left a message. I was only about 10 miles away, so I decided to go home and at least grab a decent lunch. As it turned out, Jeanne had other plans, so I headed south with no firm route back to the car. I grabbed my helmet light, having a sense that it might get dark before I was done riding for the day. Back at the bottom of App Gap, I decided to head on to Lincoln and see how I felt after climbing back over the ridge to Warren.

The foliage was more colorful than it appears in this photo.

Smooth, new pavement greeted me as I approached Lincoln Gap. One does have to listen more closely for cars, as fresh asphalt deadens tire noise, but it was still a nice reward after having bumped along over the loose surface of freshly-graded Downingsville Rd--a real challenge on the descent. There was a surprising amount of traffic going over the Gap.

Fresh pavement on both sides of Lincoln Gap, but there are still dirt sections.

I felt good when I got to Warren and, being only mid-afternoon, I decided to continue east, crossing Roxbury Gap. Of course, this would mean I would have at least two more gaps to do beyond that one, but I could always go back over Brandon Gap, which really doesn't deserve "Gap status" when crossed from the east.

Hit and miss sun all day, but it stayed dry. Looking back at Warren, while heading up Roxbury Gap.

The sign one likes to see when climbing Roxbury Gap.

Though I shot past it before I could stop, I caught Carrie Howe Rd and followed it to Rte 12A. I was well rewarded, as Carrie Howe Rd narrows down to a steep, winding single lane affair and was a real joy to scoot along, especially when dressed in fall colors. Back on pavement, I was able to keep up a good clip, in spite of having completed well over 100 miles by this point. I stopped for a break in Randolph, grabbing a light snack and drink. I was getting chilly as the sun was setting, so I clipped on my light, zipped up and headed down to Rochester Gap.

Old Christ Church in Bethel

It started getting pretty dark as I climbed Bethel Mtn. Rd (a.k.a. Rochester Gap), but I kept my headlight off. I prefer to ride without light, as long as I can still make out the road without being blinded by oncoming headlights. Of course, I had a blinker in the back, and reflective material to be better seen by oncoming cars. One does have to be a little fatalistic when riding a bike, especially at night. With stories of drivers rear-ending stopped police cars that are running their bright popcorn lights, what assurance does a cyclist have that an AAA battery-powered blinky is going to keep him safe?


When I first tried taking this photo, the flash reflected off the nearly invisible sign marking the top of Rochester Gap, leaving it the only thing visible!

I flipped on my headlight and cruised down to Rochester, following roads I had been climbing much earlier in the day. It wasn't until I was taking a break in the dark on the Rochester green that I decided that I might have enough left in the tank to go up and tackle Middlebury Gap. It would add a big climb and at least 25 miles, but this was my opportunity to reach a long-standing goal--to complete the infamous 6-gap ride. I climbed Middlebury Gap in the dark, with very few cars passing me. I pretty much had the road to myself.

The sign at the top of Middlebury Gap, marking the Long Trail crossing.

The ride down the west side of Middlebury Gap was an absolute dream. I recall a single car passing me near Breadloaf. The rest of the way, I had the brand new pavement to myself. I used the whole lane to whip around the winding turns through Ripton and turned onto the (unfortunately) newly-graded dirt of Upper Plains Rd. For the second time this year, I missed the fact that the kids turned the sign at the intersection with Beaver Pond Rd and ended up on Rte 7. I thought about just following it back to Brandon, but changed my mind and turned back onto Rte 53, going around the east side of Lake Dunsmore. The moon had come up bright, there was no wind and very few cars, making the miles a total joy. I was keeping up a surprisingly good pace on the smooth pavement, and was feeling really good. At one point, I wasn't paying close attention, when something caught the corner of my eye. It was the white of a skunk that was crossing the road right in front of me. I yelled at it, which startled it enough that it stopped, leaving me to whiz by, inches away from its shocked little snout.

I considered extending the ride farther, to get in a double-century. The moon was very inviting and I had lots of battery left in my lights, but it was nearing 10 pm when I got to the car, and I had a long drive ahead, so I decided to call it a day. Total mileage was 184, with over 13,000' of climbing in just under 12 hours of riding. I still felt very good, never having cramped up, and I'd finally done all six gaps in one day, with zero planning. A perfect late-season ride!

D2R2, Round 2!

2010-08-22T21:36:00.001-04:00

Most people who ride the D2R2 for the first time say that they are definitely going to come back and do it again the following year. That's probably the best indicator of how great a ride Sandy Wittlesey and the Franklin Land Trust have put together and offer up to challenge-loving cyclists. In my case, I followed up and really did come back for a second helping. I was not disappointed!

Jeanne did not accompany me this year, going away to take care of her mom, instead. This left me with the prospect of driving my truck all the way to Massachusetts. I was toying with the idea of riding down and back, but was saved when Stephen Taylor offered to carpool with me. It meant that I had to go through Lincoln, which added maybe 45 minutes each way, but it was definitely worth it, not only to save energy, but because he turned out to be a super nice guy. He had two friends he was going to meet down there and who he was planning on doing the ride with. They pulled in right after us, taking the adjacent tent site. They both proved to be a lot of fun as we went out and had a great dinner at a little Thai restaurant in Greenfield, with great food and service at reasonable prices and no waiting.

Last year, we camped at White Birch Campground, a few miles south of the ride start. I heard from friends who camped at the event that they had a great time chatting with the Independent Fabrication folks, who were there in force, and generally socializing. That was the big reason why I looked forward to camping at the start this year. This proved to be a disappointment. The site was a recently harvested cornfield, and thus quite lumpy. The only amenities were two porta-pottys, there was no socializing, but cars coming in and people setting up camp until early morning and a very noisy generator that ran until after midnight, starting up again at 4:40 am. Last year, for an extra five bucks, we had grass, quiet, and showers at the campground. Hmm.

The good thing about our camping spot was that it took 30 seconds to get to the organization tent. My description of the D2R2's structure is "The organization is tight, while the rules are loose." For me, these are the keys to a great cycling event, and organizers of non-racing events would do well to work toward this goal in everything they do. They even dropped the intermediate check-ins at the break spots. Sandy's explanation was that there are so many ways to cheat the course, what's the point? I'm totally with you on that, Sandy!

There was a nice selection of bagels, baked items, fruit, jersey pocket food and most importantly, lots of coffee to get us going. There was no lack for tables and seating, and all the volunteers were incredibly friendly and helpful. I can't imagine how anyone could do a better job of being cheerful while meeting all the needs of the riders.

I was in the group at the 6 am start. Sandy Whittlesey is in the cap and green fleece. I want a pair of those shorts with the reflective patches on the back like that guy with the Camelback! A Camelback is way overkill, by the way. Unless it's a really hot day, there are enough breaks and water drops that most riders could get by with a single water bottle.

The lead group out of the gate proved to be more mellow than last year's. Though it quickly whittled down to about 10 riders, I was able to stay with them for the first 25 miles, before I decided that I would be better backing off a little, knowing my limitations and what was coming.

Conditions were great, all day. It was cool enough that I wore a wind vest for the first 30 miles. There was an overcast all day, which cut the sun's heat and glare, but there was plenty of light to see. We had an issue right after coming out of the first narrow dirt road, pictured above, as the road improved and we came into houses. I guess residents get used to the lack of traffic coming out of this part of the road, as a careless guy started backing up his pickup from his driveway at an alarming rate, right into the lead riders. A chorus of shouts woke the guy up and saved us from starting the day with a disaster. The ride goes over three historic covered bridges.

You need to be careful going into the Burkeville covered bridge, as there's a chain you need to go around. This is especially important to remember if you're trying to use a camera while you are riding!

Being in the lead group, we were the first cyclists of the day to go by. Riding by one farm, we startled a donkey in a barnyard, right next to the road. He put his front hooves on top of the wooden fence and let loose with the loudest and longest braying of protest that I've ever heard. I wished I could have gotten a photo of him--it was a riot to experience.

Poland Gate is an ancient rock cut at the summit of Poland Rd. Very neat. The other riders had gone through while I slowed down, fumbling with the camera.

The D2R2 routes over a number of what Vermont would call "Class 4 roads," meaning public roads that receive minimal or even no maintenance. This little two-track is indicative. The conditions had been dry, leaving many of the dirt roads sandy and stony. You had to stay attentive to keep out of the loose spots that could stop you in a hurry and recently graded roads had a lot of stones sitting on top. For tires, I was riding a mismatched pair of older slicks whose actual measurements were 28.5mm front and 33mm rear. These were a great compromise for the conditions. Even people with (nominal) 28C tires were saying they wished they had something a little wider. There were lots of places where the riders on mountain bikes had the best tires, but most riders agreed that they wouldn't want to be riding fat knobbies all day. It would have been excellent to be on a pair of plushy Grand Bois Hetres!

I stupidly have forgotten this guy's name, but he was from Brattleboro and I ran into him several times over the course of the day. Here, he's summiting South Heath Rd, just before the first break.

The cue sheet was three letter-sized pages long, requiring constant attention as there were so many turns. Here the rider is reading the cue sheet while passing through the ubiquitous pastoral scene. I had made up a custom cue sheet that would fit in my jersey pocket and printed it out on waterproof paper. It worked great until I lost it about half-way through the ride. After that, it was a combination of last year's distant memories, looking for the tracks of other bikes, staying with other riders, or just plain waiting at an intersection for someone else to come along that kept me on course.

The breaks were nicely spaced. I rode through the first water stop, giving me a very brief opportunity to be the lead rider on the course. That didn't last long! The actual breaks included fruit, pocket food, extra gels, and powder mixes (Hammer provided mixes, gels and electrolyte pills for free, but there was Gatorade mix as well. They even had multiple flavors, including orange--my favorite!). Also available were pickles, watermelon and salt, the three major food groups for cyclists.

The route was speckled with classic New England buildings, including lots of Federal style churches, town meeting houses and farmhouses, and innumerable ancient barns and farm buildings.

This road was perhaps at the far limit of condition of the roads of the day. It wasn't really hard to ride, but you would probably not be able to get a standard 2WD sedan up it, at least not without scraping the undercarriage and perhaps losing a few parts. On the other end of the spectrum were smooth, paved roads, some of which were a hoot to ride, with fast descents and tight, but sweeping curves.

The road actually crosses this pond. I think it was on Colrain Pond Rd.

I didn't even try getting a picture while climbing the 27% loose gravel Archambo Rd climb, which I cleaned again this year. Stephen Taylor called it "Rambo Hill." The photo above was taken near the summit of Hillman Rd, which comes right after "Rambo" and seems tougher. It's much less steep, but quite a long pull.

The state line marker at mile 53. If I'm reading the dates correctly, this marker has been there 114 years. It was shortly after this I realized I had lost my cue sheet. I figured I had dropped it only a couple miles back, but there were hills I really didn't want to have to climb again, so I pressed on.

Lunch was again at the Green River covered bridge, which must be the perfect spot to take a break on a bike ride. Just before the break is a long, steep descent down Josh Rd. I went down it too fast last year and hit some rough stuff so hard my brake levers moved down the handlebars, something that has never happened to me before. I was taking it a bit easier this year, but staying with some other riders who were keeping up a good pace. The road was bumpy and the tree cover made for a lot of mottled shadows that left the surface hard to read, especially at speed. Not far from the bottom, I hit either a hole or rock so hard I almost lost it. It made a heck of a bang, but I was able to stay upright, prompting multiple calls of "Nice save, man," from the other riders. It spooked me enough that I almost didn't make the sharp left onto a narrow bridge at the bottom, banking right into the rail on the the side of the bridge. Checking the bike at the break revealed a nice flat spot in the rim, though the tire was fine and the wheel was rideable without any attention with a spoke wrench.

There were tasty catered sandwiches and pasta salad at the lunch spot, along with all the other goodies and lots of friendly volunteers and happy cyclists. I chatted with some of the Vermont contingent and met up with Norm Lafleur, who was volunteering and who I haven't seen for a few years. I must have dallied longer than I thought at the break, though, because my legs felt like lead on the long climb out of the valley.

The rest of the ride went well. I was tired, but never cramped. This may have been the result of being in good condition, but I'm going to give some credit to Hammer's electrolyte replacement products, too. I found the drink mix almost tasty, certainly better than tolerable, and, just before Patton Hill, I even used the gel pack they gave me. I have only had a gel once before, several years ago, and found it so disgusting I didn't want to try one again. The Hammer gel was fine, though, and it certainly didn't hurt me any. Patton Hill is super steep and paved at the start, becoming a long, steady grind after it turns to dirt. Many riders end up walking the last section, though I didn't have much trouble with it, beyond keeping traction, at times.

This is the top of the last climb, on the very rough Hawks Rd, last dirt road of the day. I had been with this strong rider for about 15 miles, as she had a cue sheet and was nice enough to help me with the turns. I reciprocated by taking the lead on the familiar final paved section, getting our pace up as we cruised by the 100K riders until crossing the finish at 28 mph. A flying finish for a fantastic ride.

You get an awful lot for your $75 D2R2 entry fee. Though it's a fund raiser, they don't skimp on provisions. There was a nice, catered dinner waiting for us, with all the food you wanted. I spent a leisurely time winding down, eating, chatting with other riders, and looking at the cool bikes people were riding.

The Sylvan guys were back with a more polished version of their wooden bike. They had one for people to test ride, if you wanted to. The frame is $3,600, if you're interested in one. They've improved the lugs dramatically from the one they showed last year.

An exquisite J. P. Weigle

Perhaps the highlight of the day was getting a chance to chat with Peter Weigle at dinner. I haven't seen him in person since the New York Bike Show in the early 1980s. He's a very approachable guy, especially considering the fact that no one makes a classier steel frame than he does. He is among the best of the best in framebuilding and his bikes are among the prettiest things with two wheels. He turned down my offer of my glass of Preservation Ale, so I gave it to Stephen, instead. Last year, Richie Sachs rode by me so fast that I didn't recognize him. This year, I wore my Richard Sachs jersey in the hopes that he would maybe say hello, or give me a dope slap on the way by but, sadly, I didn't see the great man.

While Stephen finished his dinner, I packed up camp and looked at some of the other cool bikes. There were several of these Circle As and any number of other unique and/or beautiful frames. I even saw a classic Reynolds 753 tubed Raleigh Team professional someone had retrofitted with cantilevers and wide tires. Very cool, especially in how well they matched the color where they repainted the area of the canti brazeons. Even though the ride back to Lincoln was three hours, Stephen and I didn't run out of things to talk about, so many interesting things had happened during the day. He said he would be coming back next year to do the 180k, as he had definitely been bitten by the D2R2 bug. Like I said, one ride and you're hooked.

My ride time was 8:34 for 112 miles, 14 minutes better than last year. I didn't check the time I finished, but I'm sure that my total time will be much better, as I didn't have the mechanical problems that dogged me, last year. Elevation change for the ride is hard to definitively establish, so I'll go with the 12,850' of climbing that another rider's GPS recorded over the route last year, as it falls nicely in the 10,000'-16,000' range claimed by various sources.

Prepping for the D2R2

2010-08-16T04:48:00.003-04:00

It's been a great season, even if I haven't been writing about it. The 100/200 went off like a charm, with a few less people than last year, but still a really great crew to ride with. Hot, and with a headwind, it was one of the toughest editions I've ridden. There have been a number of other great rides as well, and I hope to get the chance to come back and write about them when things slow down.

With the D2R2 only a week away, I decided to take a wonderful Saturday, when I should have been finishing building my woodshed, and slide in a training ride, instead. I had it in mind that I would ride a few gaps, including the mysterious Braintree Gap, which I had tried unsuccessfully to find a couple of weeks ago, and try to hit as much dirt in between as possible. I put a 28 tooth chainring on the triple and headed out at 8 am, riding the Duxbury Rd to Waterbury and then onto pavement, until taking the shortcut up Lovers' Lane to the great little bridge that is now closed to autos.

View of the Mad River upstream from Lovers Lane Bridge

Shortly after turning onto VT 100B, I was thinking of how I had noticed some dirt roads up on the mountains to the left when looking at the maps and was ready when I saw Moretown Common Rd come up. I hadn't planned on riding it, but I knew where it came out and decided to go for it. It turned out to be a very nice climb on the other side of the Mad River, with some nice views at the top. Here's one of some old barns with Camels Hump in the distance.

As it turns out, there are some roads that would have made the route easier, but climbing was something I wanted to do, so I'll just save that away for another day.

After a nice descent to the end of the Common Rd, it was on to Moretown Mtn Rd. It's officially a "gap", at least according to the USGS, but it's fairly easy, at just over 1560' elevation at the top. There's a very brief, but impressive view of Camels Hump right at the top. The road then turns a little, so it's the only view you get.

Looking back at Camels Hump at the top of Moretown Gap

A little after cresting Moretown Gap, I missed the unmarked turn onto Devils Washbowl Rd. and had to back up the hill a ways to catch it. What a great name! It's a narrow little track, with a bit of climbing, but very enjoyable.

I wound around on the dirt roads, skirting Northfield, and came across a dandy little blackberry patch along the road. The berries are just starting to get ripe here and some were huge, as you can see. Very tasty.

I came out on the Warren Mtn Rd, but Roxbury Gap was not on the agenda today. I was set on finding the "Missing Gap," as I was calling it. I had spotted Braintree Gap on Google Maps and had intended to ride it a couple of weeks ago, but I missed the turn and ended up riding back over Roxbury Gap, instead. This time. I had studied the satellite view carefully and knew exactly where the turn should be. It looked like a driveway and had signs saying "No Outlet," but I didn't let that stop me. At first, the road was quite rideable on my Gunnar Crosshairs cyclocross bike. I was running smooth 32mm tires, which worked well on the crushed rock. The road was steep and unrelenting, with lots of waterbars. There was nothing that could be called flat, all the way to the top. There's been a lot of logging in the past few years, and the road was obviously improved for this purpose. A 4-wheel drive auto with good ground clearance should be able to make it up to the last log landing without too much trouble, but it would be an adventure.

About a third of the way up, I came across prodigious blackberry patches along both sides of the road. A good excuse to stop, I spent quite awhile, eating berries until I actually got tired of them. I don't know that that's ever happened to me before--I love blackberries! I stopped at a spot where a tiny stream, cold enough that it must have been spring-fed, ran right across the road. it was a great opportunity to cool down, rinse off and clean up the berry stains. As you can see in the photo, the road was getting pretty gnarly. The photos do no justice to how steep the road really is.

After this, the road got even steeper and more rough. I took this photo after coming to a grinding halt, losing traction on the large rocks. I might have been able to go a little farther if I could have stayed in the center, but it was so steep that, even then, I may not have been able to get traction. It was definitely mountain bike material, though I only had to walk a couple of short sections. Braintree Gap peaks at 2490', just 30' shy of Lincoln Gap. While Lincoln Gap's steep section starts around 1400', Braintree starts at 815' elevation. It's one nasty climb!

The road down was a different story, entirely. There were several sections when I was way off the back of the saddle, trying not to pitch over the bars. I actually walked more on the descent than the climb, as it was just too gnarly and steep for a non-suspension bike with narrow tires. You'd be banging up the bottom of that Subaru Outback if you tried to drive it down this, and you would never make it at all, headed the other way. There were drops of over a foot in several places. Here's a view back up the trail.

I'm going to have to come back with a mountain bike sometime. The section below was more like riding down a stream bed, complete with gurgling water, in spite of the dry weather.

I came out on North Hollow Rd in Granville, and welcomed the respite for my hands, sore from the pounding and the death grip I had on the brakes. A short run on the blessedly smooth pavement of Rte 100, and then it was time to turn off onto Plunkton Rd, another dirt road I've never ridden. A bit of up and down and then the nice descent on pavement into Warren for a welcome break at the Warren Country Store. Another rider there said the road construction on Lincoln Gap had proceeded to the point where it was rideable, so I headed out to do what I now see as Vermont's second toughest climb. Thankfully, the construction ends right where the super steep stuff starts. I made it to the top without any real difficulty with my 28x27 granny gear, and it was down the back side. I wasn't careful enough, though, and overheated the rim to the point that a patch failed, leaving me to fix the only flat of the day.

The pavement, once it started up again, was all fresh and new. Asphalt is slow when it's first laid, but oh, so smooth. I recollected that there were some dirt roads that might connect through, and I tried a few, but they all petered out, leaving me to return to the pavement until getting to Lincoln.

From Lincoln, it was onto the Quaker St. climb and then Downingville Rd. There's one abandoned section that I like to ride, while it's still possible. It always makes me think of some post-Apocalypse tale.

I took another break at the Jerusalem Store on Rte 17, where the clerk complained, but filled my water bottle. "We don't usually do this because we sell water," she said. So much for Yankee frugality and hospitality. Sorry, but bottles and trucks are far less efficient than pipes for moving water. I'd pay 50 cents for a water bottle refill, if the shop keeper needed the money that bad. It would be cheaper, and I bet she'd make a better profit and she wouldn't even need to order it, put it in the cooler or pay to refrigerate it.

My path home led right by the bottom of Appalachian Gap, and I couldn't talk myself out of the opportunity to slide in an August ride to the top (keeping my multi-year, monthly App Gap record intact), so it was a not-so-quick run to the top, the obligatory snapshot, then back down before heading home on the Huntington Rd.

The D2R2 website recommends training with centuries that include 10,000' of climbing. This ride was 110 miles with 9,300', which seems fine, considering that some of the roads were actually worse than anything on the D2R2. I think I'm ready for next Saturday's fun!

I posted these photos and more to Picassa

First Century of 2010

2010-01-17T12:58:00.001-05:00

Never having ridden 100 miles in a day in January before, I decided to try turning my monthly Appalachian Gap ride into a century attempt. Saturday was the second day of a January thaw, and I headed out a bit late, at 1 pm, with temps in the mid-30s. I drove to the end of the dirt road to start on a road bike, my trusty Atala fair-weather commuter, a low-end racer from the early '80s, to which I had fitted fenders and a rack. In spite of its carbon steel "Tullio" tubing, the bike's classic Italian racing geometry makes it a nice riding machine. I have replaced most of the low-end Campy and other Italian parts over the years with less interesting, but more functional mid-range Shimano bits, though I kept the Modolo Flash brakes, just to keep a little of the traditional "excitement" in the bike.

The ride started out well, with the sun peeking out from time to time. The ride up the Gap was uneventful. I felt pretty good and got a few honks and waves from cars coming back the other way. I was protected from the wind until the very top. The road was clear all the way over and, with the chilly wind and not much of a view, I only stopped long enough to zip up. Part way down the other side, I thought I'd stop and grab a photo of the eastern view and was reminded of the limitations of my old Italian brakes, taking a hundred yards or so to stop!

Approaching the top of App Gap

The ride down the other side was uneventful, with the exception of the Mad River Glen ski area. I've seen dairy cattle that paid more attention to traffic than downhill skiers, headed for their cars. I skipped German Flats Rd, not wanting to tangle with more skiers from Sugarbush, and bounced along the broken pavement of Rte 100, south of Waitesfield, heading toward Granville Gulf. Although it was only 30 miles into the ride, and I hated to waste the daylight, I had skipped lunch and was getting hungry, so I stopped at the store between Waitesfield and Warren. It's quite nice for a convenience store, lots of glass, always warm inside and a couple of tables at which to relax. A piece of thick, fresh pizza turned out to be a good choice and I drank a large bottle of Gatorade, as I warmed my feet.

It took only about five minutes of brisk riding to get my body heat back up, when I hit the road again. I rode over the top of Granville Gulf and headed down to the falls, where I took a couple of uninteresting photos of the frozen cascade before turning around and heading back up. The ride back down was not as chilly as I expected and I crossed the covered bridge in Warren and headed up the Brook Rd climb. Interestingly, this route peaks at almost the same elevation as Granville Gulf, but does it in a lot less distance. I came out at the covered bridge in Waitesfield, turning on my lights halfway down the descent. I looped down Rte 100B to Middlesex, so I could pick up a loaf of bread at the bike-friendly Red Hen bakery, wondering if this type of supplies run would meet with more approval by Mr. BikeSnobNYC better than Pizza Fixation? No cockles lost their lives dressing up that slice of pizza and there was certainly nothing hip about my rusty, salt-covered Atala, or my cheesy neoprene shoe covers.

The "lazy window" on the house next to
this Warren barn is a Vermont classic.

I chugged against a cold headwind all the way back to Jonesville. Approaching Waterbury, I realized that I couldn't read my bike computer anymore, because the wind was pulling too much water out of my eyes, blurring my vision. Does cycling get any better than this? I averaged a mere 15 mph, but I was in no rush and had done over a mile of sometimes steep vertical gain. All-in-all, a memorable first century of the year, and one that reminded me of how just staying in shape isn't enough if you want to ride long distances. I was quite wiped at the end. I also noticed that, even though you don't get thirsty when working out in the winter, you need to keep drinking. I drank only the Gatorade and a couple of swigs of water during the ride and found myself incredibly thirsty for the next 12 hours and with a dehydration headache the next day.

More pics on Picasa.

Riding my age on Christmas Day

2009-12-26T22:28:00.000-05:00

I checked the weather, and it seemed that the best conditions coming up for riding might just be Christmas day, with no precipitation in the forecast and temps in the mid-20s. I really wanted to wrap up the extended saga of our order of two sets of Ay-Up lights, so I decided to ride the 54-mile loop up to David Tremblay's house in Moretown and pick up the light I loaned him when Ay-Up shorted us one unit. David and I had gone in together on the order to get free freight. When his light was missing, I gave him one of the two I had ordered, while we waited for his to come from Down-Under. The folks at Ay-Up were great, and their lights are not only superb, they are an excellent value. However, this would be the third trip out to David's to straighten things out!

The ride was very enjoyable. Having suffered cold feet earlier in the week riding into work, I tried pulling out the insoles of my winter riding shoes and replacing them with a pair of chemical foot warmers. This did not prove to be all that effective. I could feel the warmth for perhaps the first ten miles, but after that they cooled off and eventually didn't seem to be doing much of anything. There was a light northeast breeze, which slowed me a little on the way out, but made up for it on the way back.

The dirt roads were smooth, but I was reminded when I strayed onto the smooth, icy patches to get back to the snowier sections! Vehicle tires tend to clear the snow and glaze the ice, and the studded tires slipped around when I strayed off the crunchier center sections. I rode out the Duxbury Road, knowing that the road would be nice down by the river. I expected very little traffic, but there were a fair number of cars around.

I decided against climbing Rte 100 up out of Waterbury and stuck to the river until Middlesex. I thought about climbing up the Lovers Lane shortcut, but I was wearying of the icy dirt roads and didn't want to slog through the snow on the abandoned bridge, so I continued on the clear pavement to Middlesex and enjoyed the ride up Rte 100B. I stopped for a few minutes to chat with Bob Lindemann, who was out jogging, then up to Moretown and the climb up the Moretown Mtn Rd. The Moretown snowplow must have a serrated blade, because there were ridges in the icy surface, making things a tad exciting at times, but there were only a couple of cars and the going was fine. South Hill Rd. was easier than it had been before the snow, when it was covered with freshly graded loose sand.

Picasa Photos

David wasn't there, but I picked up the light and headed back. My feet were starting to get chilled, so I took Rte 100 through Duxbury and came back on Rte 2. I stuck to the generator light as it got dark, as the half-moon above the clouds was keeping things light. An uneventful climb back up to the dirt road got me home right about the time my feet were making the transition from cold to numb. The insoles were cold to the touch, but five minutes later, they were steaming--the fickle things. Final mileage was 54.5, my exact age!

Greylock!

2009-09-26T19:56:00.000-04:00

In the spring of 1978, I had just met a really nice girl, who had come into the shop right at closing to buy toe clips for her new Schwinn LeTour. I installed them in the parking lot and summoned up the nerve to ask her for a ride, ostensibly to make sure she was able to use them properly. During the short jaunt, I found the courage to ask her for a date. That worked out well, but it was Friday and she said that she had already made plans to leave town to see her mom that weekend. I spent that Saturday riding one of my favorites--out to the top of Greylock and back--thinking about her the whole way. As it turned out, the story about visiting Mom wasn't a brush-off and we picked up again on Monday. A year later we were married and I think that was the last time I rode Greylock.

Fast forward to today. Jeanne is at her Mom's again, taking care of her, and I happened to be in town Friday for a conference at RPI. I checked the Mohawk Hudson Cycling Club's website (my club, back in the '70s), and saw that they had moved their annual Greylock ride up a week. I've wanted to ride Greylock again for a few years now, but it was closed as the access roads were completely rebuilt. The forecast was for cool, but sunny weather, so hooking up with them for a ride was a no-brainer. I needed to ride into work on Friday, with Jeanne picking me up at the end of the day to travel, so I decided to take the Gunnar cyclocross bike, as it has a rack, but fairly light wheels. I also thought the triple might come in handy, but as it turned out, it wasn't needed.

54 degrees at the start didn't feel cold under the bright September sun. There was a good turnout of riders of a variety of abilities, but all appeared to be in decent shape. I chatted with the owners of a Tommasini and a Colnago Master, both classics in excellent shape, but with upgraded parts. Most riders were on very nice, modern bikes. I left with the first group and the pace quickly picked up to the point that I wondered if I would be able to keep it up over the entire 70-mile ride. I dropped off the lead pack on the long climb before Stephentown, but caught up on the rolling terrain. They finally dropped me for good on Brodie Mountain Road when I lost contact on the climb and then missed a turn. When I rejoined the route, the main bunch was just going by. I passed most of them, grabbing a few photos, and eventually caught up with a few riders from the lead group.

The ride up the south side of Greylock had a few good pulls in the beginning, but was much less steep than I remembered. I actually started picking up the pace after awhile. Things really started to feel familiar when I hit the tight double-switchbacks near the top and I put the hammer down to the summit, realizing how much easier it was turning out to be than expected.

After resting awhile at the top, and sharing my trail mix with some of the other riders, I started back down. The views were fantastic in the clear, late-September air and the foliage was just starting to turn. Riders had been coming and going, so I was pretty sure I'd either catch up with some or be caught by others. The fastest riders were long gone, including one amazing woman who had bucked the stiff headwind for the fast bunch for most of the ride out.

As it turned out, I rode solo all the way back to the start. Other than a number of riders still climbing up, I didn't see anyone until I had my bike loaded and was getting ready to leave. I had a nice tailwind most of the hilly return ride, so I kept a brisk pace and took advantage of it. When I finished, I felt like I had gotten in a great workout--much more than one would expect in 70 miles. Total climbing was over 7,000'.

The ride was a real blast. The other riders were pleasant and there was usually someone to draft or to pull. 30+ years ago, I spent the ride thinking about a special girl I had just meant. Today, I had over three decades of fond memories to reminisce about as I revisited this great tour. All-in-all, it was big, big fun.

More photos on Picasa.

D2R2: A Dirt Road Delight

2009-08-26T06:46:00.000-04:00

When I first heard of the Deerfield Dirt Road Randonee, a little over a year ago, I thought it sounded like a truly dumb idea. Over 100 miles, mostly on dirt roads, with 16,000' of vertical gain; that's over three miles, straight up. It sure didn't sound like fun, even to someone like me, who rides 1,000 miles of dirt a year, just commuting.

Oh, what a difference a year makes. Somehow, the idea worked its way into my head. Perhaps it was all the times I stumbled across its mention, always intensely favorable by those who have ridden it, or perhaps it was just that I was in pretty good riding shape this year. For whatever reason, when the ride date approached, I decided to go for it. Now that it's done, count me among the D2R2's fans.

I wasn't really sure I was ready for this ride. I had a couple of double-centuries under my belt this year, as well as a number of other long rides, and a week before the D2R2 I did an 85-mile ride that included a number of steep dirt roads and Lincoln and App Gaps, for a total of about 7,500' of climbing. Then I looked at the ride's website, where it is advised that one include century rides with at least 10,000' of climbing as a training regimen. Gulp.

The D2R2 is considered by many to be one of the toughest centuries anywhere, though many say that Vermont's own six-gap ride may be tougher. As far as I know, it's the only ride of its kind. The D2R2's organizer is cycling legend Sandy Wittlesey, who says, “We designed it by placing pins in the map where the covered bridges and coolest sights were, then connected the dots with dirt roads. Our intent was to make the most beautiful ride we could …all we really want is for people to finish D2R2 saying, ‘Wow, that was really challenging, but totally worth it because it’s such a great bike ride.’”

All kinds of people show up for this ride, on all kinds of bikes. The course is probably best suited for cyclocross and randonneur bikes, but many ride mountain bikes. I saw everything from an old Raleigh Gran Sport to a recumbent, which was doing surprisingly well on the climbs. I was riding smooth-tread 30C tires, which worked very well in the dry conditions. Of course, there were a number of racer-types who sailed past, riding impossibly narrow tires and pushing impossibly big gears, but one gets used to that sort of thing happening. I went with the recommended 1:1 low end, and I'm very glad I did.

There is a shorter, 100K version of the ride that is offered and recommended for those who have not done the full 170K version, but I decided to go for the full deal. The weather was for a typical, hot August day, with lots of sun, so I made the earliest start of 6 am. There were a total of 480 riders registered for the three events, including a 32-mile ride routed straight up the Green River, and well over 100 people riding the 170K. The group started out at a pace that was a bit faster than I would have been able to maintain, but, luckily, I had a slight malfunction that took less than a minute to fix, but which permanently separated me from the fastest starters. I caught up with some other riders on the next descent and rode with them for a while, but there really isn't much benefit to be gained by riding in a pack on this ride, other than for moral support, as there are very few miles where drafting would be helpful. The D2R2 isn't a race, and most people are just looking to finish, and walk as few climbs as possible.

Since most of the ride is on dirt roads, the tree canopy gave a welcome escape from the August heat. I focused on maintaining a pace that I thought would take me through the entire ride and didn't worry about who I was passing or who was passing me. I do wish I had noticed that the guy who went by me on a Richard Sachs cyclocross bike in full team kit was the main man, Mr. Sachs, himself, or that the Independent Fabrications crew had brought almost everyone from the factory along. As it was, I met up with several Vermonters, and heard rumors of others, though I think I was the only one wearing a GMBC jersey.

After 50 miles or so of climbing and descending, including two of the toughest climbs of the course, I was really getting into the spirit of the ride. I was cleaning everything the course was throwing at me, my old mountain biking skills were kicking in and I was descending faster and faster on the cyclocross bike I was riding. On one long, nasty downhill just before the second break, I flew past a number of other riders; however, it was at the cost of a broken spoke, and twisting the handlebars in a 4-bolt stem. I even drove the brake levers down on the bars, which has never happened to me before. Luckily, I had the tools and parts with me necessary to fix things at the break.

The closest call I had, though, was when I was flying down a one-lane road by myself, after the final break. I came around a curve doing well over 35 mph, when I came upon a tractor coming up the hill, pulling some kind of tedder (a piece of equipment with long spikes, used to harvest hay). The equipment overhung the small ditch on both sides of the road, and there were trees on the left and a vertical embankment on the right. Luckily, the farmer stopped as soon as he saw me, leaving me just enough room to fishtail to a stop on the foot of road alongside the tractor's rear wheel, staring at the big spikes only a couple of feet ahead. The farmer cut the tractor's engine and deadpanned “That was close.” I had to hold onto those spikes as I climbed through the ditch to get around the rig, continuing on a bit more cautiously.

My total time for the ride put me in position 53 out of the 118 finishers, not too shabby. My actual ride time was 8:48, making it certainly my all-time slowest century. Still, I cleaned the entire course, rode some amazingly beautiful roads, chatted with a lot of fascinating people, saw some really cool bikes (including one made of wood!), and had a great time. The support was fantastic, there were showers, dinner and a band waiting at the end--all-in-all, just a great experience. I'll definitely be riding this one again.

Patrick's great photos of the event on Flicker.

Doin' the Flèche

2009-04-24T08:14:00.000-04:00

I'm signed up to ride the New England Flèche in three weeks. A flèche, in cycling, is basically a 24-hour ride done by a team of three to five cyclists. It is not a relay, in that all riders ride all the time and there is no outside support, such as the follow vehicles that will support the 100/200, five weeks later. True to its French origins, the flèche is replete with a host of obscure rules, designed to insure that riders do not "cheat." Having organized the 100/200 for so many years, I find it difficult to get my mind around that one. Who would cheat on a 360 km, 24-hour bicycle ride? Who would care if someone did? There are no prizes, and the event is setup in such a way that it's virtually impossible to have competition. Plus, no rational person I have talked to understands the event at all, so what would anyone gain by cheating? I don't get it.

I also don't get the idea of control cards, which are supposed to be signed by anonymous people at strategic "controls," or points along the ride to establish that you were at a certain place at a certain time. There is a traditional element to controls. There is a video on YouTube that shows a few seconds of a tandem taxi race that took place in Paris during WWII in which the "fare" leaps out of a trailer being pulled by the tandem and sprints to a table where he gets his control card signed. This action was a critical part of the event and one assumes that the ride involved a number of different destinations in Paris. It was also a race, so the controls were an important part of the event. This does not transfer well to non-competitive ultra-marathon events, however. Not only does no one really care, but a flèche's controls are selected by the team. The person initialing the cards will be some sleepy clerk at a 24-hour convenience store who doesn't understand what she is scribbling her initials for. Are we to believe that some event official is going to try to track that person down later to verify that she really did initial the control? How would he find her? Drive a hundred miles to some town in Vermont, find the donut shop and ask around to see if anyone knows whose initial those are? What happens if he can't verify the initials? Does he have enough evidence to disqualify the team? I can see Hercule Perot, having failed as an independent detective and resigned in disgrace to serve as a French government official, whose sole task is to travel the countryside, verifying completed control cards submitted by ultra-marathon cyclists for non-competitive events. That's a vision bound to haunt me at 3 am, climbing some hill in Massachusetts.

If the concept of a control card on a ride like this makes no sense, it must be there for some other purpose. According to RUSA, the sanctioning organization, the flèche is one of a series of increasing distance rides that "qualifies" you for longer rides, culminating in the grand daddy of all randonneur events, Paris-Brest-Paris, the ultimate painfest. Perhaps there's something to be gained by filtering out the casual riders from the longer events, but I'm not convinced by even that, as so many riders who have qualified do not finish. Since these rides are run over non-closed public roads, and do not offer support, who is to stop you from showing up and just riding it anyway? You could be the masked rider who swoops in without registration, without number, who stealthily rides the event, eschewing the corny certificate of completion, requiring no validation of his effort.

Herein we get to the crux of the matter, and it is the age old saw--people want to belong to a group. Whether you call it a "tribe," a club, a gang, or a congregation, people have this evolutionary attraction to organize together. It could be a Yankees cap, a NASCAR t-shirt, or a leather Harley jacket, but in this case, it's flèches and brevets. All the arcane rules and the controls make up the sacrifice component, recognized by prehistoric humans as being integral to getting buy-in by the group members and to hold their attention. There's no more effective way to get people to defend a group than to have them pay dearly to belong. What better way to get investment than to have a person give up his most prized possession, the finest of his flock, which, not incidentally, can serve as the basis for a feast? The odd thing about ultra-marathon cycling is that the people attracted to it are largely odd ducks who pride themselves on being different. Actions speak louder than words, folks!

I'll get my control card initialed by the sleepy clerk after trying to explain in 10 seconds or less why we're out in the middle of the night riding our bikes, perhaps in the rain, but it will only be for the good of the team. I'm in this for the experience and the true tradition of Velocio, in whose memory the flèche was originally designed. Velocio, the father of bicycle touring and inventor of the derailleur, organized a series of Easter rides in the 1930s in which readers of his magazine, le Cyclist, would converge on Provence for a happy picnic. The word flèche means arrow in French and the modern flèches are best ridden as fairly straight routes, converging on a common destination--our route is true to this concept. I'm confident Velocio had no thought or use for controls, only camaraderie. Salute, Velocio!

Looking forward to 2009

2009-01-02T13:26:00.000-05:00

I started keeping track of my mileage on mycyclinglog.com since late August, 2007. In 2008, I exceeded my mileage every month over 2007. Total mileage for the year was 6,562. Of this, 4,711 were "utility miles," meaning they displaced miles I would otherwise have driven. This translates into 2.43 tons of CO2 saved by not driving my Ford pickup truck. I would have also saved money, if I didn't spend it on bike parts I didn't need, instead. Results for all the bicycle commuters in our group are summarized at http://rideitlikeyoustoleit.us.

The big news, looking forward, is that the 100/200 is a definite GO for June 21, 2009. I typed up an information sheet and posted it to http://stevebarner.com. It's sure to be a great ride.

Snow Biking

2008-12-20T20:30:00.000-05:00

It's been 11 months, so it's high time to update the blog. I've managed to exceed my mileage every month this year over last. I've logged over 300 miles in December, alone. Yesterday should be counted as a mistake, though.

It started when I neglected to check the weather online before leaving home. I had an early meeting and I'd had a late meeting the day before, so I was feeling tight on time. The last weather report I had heard indicated the snow would start in the evening, so I rode the Bianchi road bike that is fitted with 700x32 Nokian A10 studded tires. These tires are ok on the road and have just enough studs to provide a grip on ice patches, but they are not so good in deep snow.

It was cold in the morning. The thermometer said 21 degrees, but it's been reading quite high. I need to move the sending unit location. I made it through the few inches of snow on the dirt road, though not without some excitement on a few rutted sections. There was a little light snow on the side of the road, but it wasn't bad when I had to go into it when cars were over taking me. The thermometer in Williston read 11 degrees, which seemed a lot more accurate.

It started snowing in earnest in the afternoon. I left shortly after 4:00, and traffic was heavy with people heading home for the weekend, trying to beat the storm. I stuck to the rec path all the way to Kimball Ave. There wasn't a lot of traffic heading out, but it wasn't easy riding, especially when I had to pull out of the travel lane. Traffic was really backed up and I couldn't ride to the right of the long line of cars, as the snow was just too deep and loose. I tried, but I was going all over the place, which just wasn't safe with all the cars around. I jogged with the bike to Williston Rd., tried riding it again, gave up, and walked the mile all the way to Tafts Corners. The thermometer read 8 degrees.

I tried riding again, but it was still pretty tough. I let out much of the air in the tires, and that helped a little, but I was very happy that a snow plow came along and cleared the road all the way across the shoulder. Things went better after that, all the way through Williston to the top of French Hill. There, things started to get interesting again. I waited for a line of cars to go by and then followed a panel truck down the hill. Soon, I realized that there was a limit to how much I could get on the brakes, as, even with the crummy brake pads on the bike, I was starting to slide the rear tire. The problem was, even though I wasn't going very fast, I was catching up to the panel truck! That, combined with the fact that it was dark, my glasses were icing and I couldn't really see where I was going, made that descent quite interesting. I stopped at the bottom and called Jeanne, telling her that I wasn't having fun anymore and she headed out to get me. I only made it to the edge of Richmond, a little over two miles farther, before meeting up with her.

I've ridden in the snow before, but hadn't had this much trouble. Of course, everything depends on the conditions, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out that biking during snow storms should be avoided, if possible. Heck, driving in snow storms should be avoided. I'm pretty sure I would have been much better off with the Fat Chance, which is sporting wider, knobby Nokians with more studs. The more rugged tires, combined with the upright position of the mountain bike, would have improved traction and low speed maneuverability. If I had seen the weather I would probably still have ridden, but with the other bike. If it had happened again today, I would have driven my truck!

Bottom line: The Nokian A10s are great for clear, sub-zero riding--well, they're probably one of the best alternatives, anyway. It's hard to say that any snow tire is "great." But if you are going to have only one set of snows on your bike, and if you plan to ride in all types of weather, get a more aggressive tire, at least if you live in snow country, like northern Vermont.

Half-way through January with way-more miles than December

2008-01-19T13:56:00.000-05:00

After riding back and forth to work (19 miles each way) for four days in a row, I was really beat. I started with my Fat Chance mountain bike (no longer considered a mountain bike according to the younger set, because it lacks any type of suspension). After slogging through mud with the consistency of mashed potatoes, due to the January thaw, I was happy to see the temperature drop below freezing. The Fat Chance has studded Nokian tires in the winter and these things claw out of pretty much anything winter throws in the way, but riding such a long commute sure takes a toll out of my energy reserves. It's amazing how quickly a cyclist can lose that warm-weather muscle tone in the off-season.

I wanted to speed up the commute, so I sprung for a pair of Nokian A10 35 x 700C studded tires. These tires have only 70 or so studs, while the tires I have on the Fat Chance have more than 100. Really aggressive studded tires often have over 300 studs. Still, the A10s have their studs located close to the outside edges and they are staggered. This puts them where you really need them, helping you to climb out of frozen ruts. I came up the hill on my dirt road on knobby tires without studs on my fourth day of riding and fell twice when I got caught in ruts--not something that typically happens to me. I was going quite slow climbing the hill and nothing got hurt or damaged. Riding up the same hill, with the same ruts, on the same bike, but now with the Nokians, I didn't even come close to going over.

The Nokians are still pretty heavy, but they are a lot easier to ride than the more aggressive ones I have on the Fat Chance. I highly recommend them to anyone who is doing winter riding and wants the advantages of studs with the lowest cost in performance. Winter conditions can put treacherous ice in your path without warning. As far as I'm concerned, studded tires are an absolute necessity for winter riding an cold. snowy climates
like Vermont.

I got my Nokians from Peter White Cycles. Peter ships very fast, has many models in stock and offers good prices. Unless you think there is a very good possibility that you will not be putting many miles on them, don't waste your money on tires with steel studs. Pay the money and get carbide studs. You won't regret it. If you live near Burlington, the Old Spokes Home has studded tires in stock. These guys ride their bikes year-round and can give you good advice.

Appalachian Gap: It's 12 for 12!

2007-12-24T07:48:00.001-05:00

The last climb. I shot this on the way back down--no dabs!

In spite of a nagging cold, I got out Saturday afternoon for the December climb up App Gap, meeting my goal of climbing the Gap at least once a month for a year. Last year, I hit every month except December. This year, I did the climb as many as three times in a month, but not a month went by when I didn't make the climb at least once.

Conditions were ok, with temperatures in the mid-30s. The climb could have been done on a road bike without studded tires, but one would have to have ridden back down the last hundred yards or so from the summit in the climbing lane, carefully picking a clear line. It would have been a challenge if you had to compete with cars coming up. It was very nice having studded tires, as I could pull over to let cars pass without worrying about the snow and ice I needed to ride over.

The view from the top

One of the neatest things was the number of people who gave me the thumbs-up on the climb. I suspect most people coming over the mountain were coming back from a great day skiing at Sugarbush or Mad River Glen, and skiers understand this kind of challenge better than the average person, but one guy actually rolled down his window and leaned out to shout encouragement as we passed on one of the upper switchbacks.

I rode my 1983 Fat Chance mountain bike, outfitted with Nokian studded tires. These are the style designed primarily for plowed dirt and paved roads, with a little over 100 studs in two rows. I have found this to be a good compromise between traction and rolling resistance and, while there are times when I've wished I had more studs, I've never lost traction with these. I'm not at all keen on doing long rides with mountain bars in an off-road riding position, so I'd like to experiment with studded road tires on a road bike for winter riding. There are some interesting designs available.

Approaching App Gap

My advice for anyone getting stated with studded tires is to be sure you get good tires with carbide studs. The cheaper tires with steel studs just are not worth it, especially with as many strikes against you as you already have with winter cycling. You can always turn around and sell your tires if you decide winter riding is not for you. If you are in northern Vermont, you can get these tires at a good price at the Old Spokes Home in Burlington. Otherwise, you can get them by mail from Peter White, who probably sells more of these tires than anyone else in the country.

Will I try to repeat this goal of a Gap a month? At this point, I'm not sure. I know a guy who lives a little closer to the Gap who does it at least once a week during riding season to prepare for the Green Mountain Stage Race, and Chris Bohjalian rides Lincoln Gap two or three times a week when it isn't covered with snow. I'm far from earning any unique bragging rights for continuing to ride the Gap every month. I was thinking when I started the December ride that I would rather be getting in more miles on a road bike, since this would have been possible if I had stuck to the lowlands, though it was fun to be at the top of the Gap, and the ride back, downhill and with a tailwind, made the slogging climb worthwhile. Perhaps I'll broaden my scope a little, or tackle a real challenge, like doing a century ride every month. That would be a tough thing to accomplish in northern Vermont! I will say, though, that it's fun to have a goal, no matter how arbitrary, and it's rewarding to meet it.

L.A.M.B. Ride--I made it!

2007-08-17T04:33:00.000-04:00

The L.A.M.B. ride traverses four of Vermont's "gaps," which are mountain passes that cross the spine of the Green Mountains, from east to west. The Green Mountains are part of the Appalachian Mountain chain and were scoured by glaciers thousands of years ago, leaving river valleys running north and south, paralleling the mountain ridges. The gaps are located at locations where the spine of the mountains drops low enough to get a road over it, if barely. The L.A.M.B. ride tackles four of these gaps; Lincoln, Appalachian, Middlebury and Brandon.

As organized annually by the Killington-Pico Cycling Club, the L.A.M.B. ride starts in Rochester, which is convenient to people traveling up from the south, and rides north up Rte 100 through Granville Gulf to tackle the worse climb, Lincoln Gap, first. Lincoln Gap starts out paved, turns to smooth dirt for a few miles, then is paved again for the last three miles or so of steep stuff. This stretch is said to include the steepest mile of paved road in the continental US, and I believe it. While there several places where the climb eases up a little, climbing Lincoln is a real grunt-fest. Like a mountain biker, you need to pay close attention to body location, so you can keep the front wheel on the ground while maintaining traction. I had converted my classic steel Marinoni to a triple chainring, using a TA tripleizer chainring and added a 30-tooth inner ring. Combined with a 13-30 freewheel in the back, I had a 1:1 ratio, which is as close to walking as I ever get. That's virtually the same gearing I use on my mountain bike for steep off-road work and I was very glad that I had these granny gears on this ride.

I made it all the way up Lincoln Gap without stopping, which is a feat all by itself. Most other riders were using significantly taller gearing, but many of them had to stop and recover at least once on the climb. Once we regrouped, we picked our way down the other side. Lincoln Gap does not reward you with a nice, long descent at the top. It's quite treacherous getting down the dirt section and I had problems with a strap-on second waterbottle cage that kept moving around on the tube. Later in the ride, I got a piece of tape from helpful clerk and placed this around the tube under the strap and this solved the annoying problem.

We stopped at the general store in Lincoln to regroup and discovered that the store keeps a presta floor pump in the window for cyclists who need to top off. How cool is that? We stayed at the store long enough for everyone to get back together and then headed down to Rte 116, where we skipped north to tackle Appalachian Gap. App Gap starts with a smaller climb, dubbed the Baby Gap, then actually drops a few hundred feet before the steep final climb. Whereas Lincoln Gap approaches 25% grade, App Gap is a bit tamer with the final steepest section being around 19%. GMBC riders do App Gap regularly in training for the Green Mountain Stage Race, which has two stages that include it. I'm on track thus far in climbing App Gap at least once each month this year.

We zoomed down the east side of App Gap (and I do mean zoomed) and picked up just the lightest sprinkles, not enough to really get wet. The weather turned out great and we never got soaked, in spite of the projected 70% chance of rain. We stayed a long time at the stop outside Waitsfield. It turned out that one of the riders had flatted so badly that he had to hitch a ride down the gap with a motorist. Luckily, there was a bike shop right there where he could purchase a replacement tire. One year, a L.A.M.B. rider trashed a wheel and this shop loaned him a very nice road bike to finish the ride at no charge. Now that's service!

We then headed south, back through Granville Gulf, to pick up Middlebury Gap. A little over half the riders chose to end the ride here after the break and continue the few miles south to Rochester. This actually has a cute name; the LAMB-chop. Seven of us decided to tackle the last two climbs. Middlebury Gap is one of those climbs where you hear comments like "This isn't so bad" about half-way up from people who haven't ridden it before. It never gets terribly steep, it just grinds on and on. Those comments always stop well before the summit. There is a nice, long descent on the other side through Ripton before we turned off onto a smooth dirt road that turned back to pavement after a few miles, taking us around the east side of Lake Dunsmore. Another stop at very nice little general store with great prices for a change and then we headed up Brandon Gap. Brandon is, perhaps, the easiest of the four gaps, but anything is a grind after that much climbing. I just stayed in that granny gear and ended up crossing the summit alongside another rider, making us the last two riders in the group. Brandon Gap is much steeper on the west side than the east, and the gradual descent took us all the way into Rochester, which was about 10 miles.

I was very glad to have completed this ride, especially since I had tried it three years ago and had to bail with the rest of the LAMB-choppers. I do wonder, though, about the folks who do the six-gap ride much earlier in the season, adding in Roxbury and Rochester gaps. You can read about their exploits at http://www.northeastcycling.com/six_gaps.html. And then there's the gap rides down in Georgia, but I dan't know how these compare. Both the L.A.M.B. and the Georgia six-gap rides boast around 10,000' of climbing in about 100 miles, so I presume the Vermont six-gap climb is even more challenging. Maybe next year...

I posted ride photos at http://picasaweb.google.com/sbarner/2007LAMBRide. Enjoy!

Another successful 100/200 Ride

2007-06-25T18:40:00.001-04:00

June 23rd saw another successful 100/200, doing a solo again, with the able and necessary support of my wife, Jeanne. It was an excellent run, the best one ever! I rode a new bike this time, a Klein Q-Pro frame outfitted with Campagnolo Chorus 8-spd componentry. My trusty Marinoni, which has been my steed for every one of the previous seven 100/200s, was fitted with a triple and went along for the ride, perched loftily on the car's roof rack, but it was only symbolic. I never needed a gear lower than the 39x26 I had on the Klein.
Ride details may be found at http://stevebarner.com.

Doin' the Gap, again!

2007-04-01T16:22:00.000-04:00

Here's the view from the top of Appalachian Gap, Saturday, March 31. As you can see, the snow and ice are receding and this has brought out flocks of early-season cyclists here in northern Vermont. The weather was cool, in the low 40s, and there was a light north wind, but the bright sun made things feel warmer. The temperature at the top of the Gap was probably in the low 30s, but the roads were clear. Cycling season has officially started! (I know, because this was may first ride this year without fenders.) I got two Gap rides in during March, maybe three--I lost count.

Appalachian Gap, 2-0

2007-02-28T20:52:00.000-05:00

Last year, I had an informal goal to climb the Appalachian Gap at least once a month throughout the year. I might have pulled it off, but I missed December. I really could have made it happen, but I let the two opportunities that month slip by for various reasons. I am now 2 and 0 this year, having slid in the February ride on the 28th. The strong sun and temperatures hovering just below freezing in the afternoon invited me out. The roads were generally clear, since we have not had any snow for a few days and the skies have been clear. The snowbanks are right up to the edge of the road, but the pavement itself is pretty clear. The tricky spots are in the shade and where enough melting snow has flowed across the road to wash away the road salt. Water freezes quicker and slicker here than where the salt keeps it slushy for a few degrees below freezing. Here's a link to a RouteSlip map of the ride.

The Gap climb was the trickiest, as far as frozen stuff was concerned. There were several places that I marked on the way up to be especially careful of coming back down. There was more traffic than usual, with skiers coming back from the resorts on the other side. The road crews dump a lot of sand and salt on the Gap, as it is kept open throughout the winter. This junk tends to accumulate in the center and on the shoulder, forcing you out into the traffic lane. Cars are not usually going fast enough for this to be a real problem, but when they drift over to pass you, they get into the center and throw up a nasty cloud of fine dust.

There are several important factors to consider in winter riding. Most important is the weather and road conditions, as both can change in a very short time. Online weather services like WeatherUnderground are a real help here. If there is any chance of running into sections of snow or ice, you MUST have studded tires. Don't cheap out here. Get the best carbide-studded tires you can. I have a set of Nokian studded tires on my snow bike (an '84 Fat Chance mountain bike). These tires have about 110 studs per tire in two rows and there are times when I would gladly give up a little energy for more studs. You are already farther out in the road with no place to go. Go down on unseen broken pavement under slimy snow in front of overtaking cars and your riding days might be over. You want every advantage. The problem is that studded tires are higher profile and most road and even hybrid bikes lack the clearance for them and the absolutely necessary fenders.

Eventually, I'm going to build a frame with clearance for 700C studded tires, but for now I'll stick with the Fat Chance for commuting in snow and the Bianchi Axis (Volpe) with knobby cyclocross tires and the Atala for salty, muddy, but clear roads. The Atala is what I rode up the Gap yesterday. It's a low-end model that rides surprisingly well and which I've turned into a lousy-conditions road bike. All three of these bikes have been offered as sacrifices to the salt gods, and that's the second consideration of winter riding; you don't want to use a bike that you want to keep looking good, because it's just not going to happen. Salt will destroy your bike no matter how careful you are to clean it after every ride. It is much better to have a bike that you dedicate to this purpose, so you don't spend the summer looking down at an ugly, corroded bike.

Finally, you need to pay attention to clothing. Anything cotton is out. You need several layers, and don't be afraid to stop and take a layer off when you get too warm. Bring something extra to put on if necessary; a rack-top pack or pannier works well to stash extra items. The temperature at the top of the Gap was around 20 degrees F, a critical ten degrees colder than at the start. With a long descent on which to cool down, it got pretty chilly. I picked up a headwind on the way back, making things even worse. I wished I had packed an extra shell and some ear warmers. It was all worth it, though. Don't let the cold weather keep you indoors!

I Discovered Online Route Maps

2007-01-27T23:49:00.000-05:00

Well, I almost made my goal of riding Appalachian Gap every month of 2006, but then missed out on December. There was at least one day that I had available when I could have ridden it, but it didn't happen. So, there were two goals I missed in 2006, the monthly gap ride and the SLAM. I knocked off January's Gap ride early in the month, on a day that was so warm I wore short-fingered riding gloves. I rode at least seven 40-mile rides in the first two weeks of January, but haven't been on the bike since then as the temperature dropped precipitously. It's -10 degrees now.

The really exciting thing for me was that I discovered online route maps. I've been trying out Bikely.com, VeloRoutes.org and RouteSlip.com. Bikely.com is easy to use and quick. It also seems to be the most versatile, with the ability to add and change points after the route is saved. I couldn't get their elevation feature to work, but I think that's just a temporary glitch. RouteSlip.com is very interesting, especially since they have a training log and other interesting features. I had problems saving some of my routes, though, which was a bit frustrating since they took a while to input. Their elevation feature didn't work right either.

VeloRoutes.org looked interesting, but the interface was so terribly slow that I gave up on it for now. I just tried it again and things seem to be much quicker now. This service is very interesting in that it ties icons on the map to photos, comments about things such as steep climbs, and even webcams to the map. You can click on one of these icons and brink up a popup that displays the feature. A city like Seattle is peppered with webcams. Vermont has a few public webcams, but I didn't see any on VeloRoutes. I especially liked the radar feature that overlays radar weather conditions on the current map. I did have to chuckle about the things people call "monster climbs" in Seattle. If 130' is a monster climb, what is the 800' climb on my daily commute getting home up my dirt road?

These services are definitely worth checking out. They will provide us with some really neat tools to share rides with others. According to its creator, veloroutes runs on a computer in his apartment, so there may be some serious longevity and scalability questions to consider before sinking a lot of time into inputting rides. Still, he's to be commended for his efforts and perhaps he'll find a way to make it profitable enough to spin off into an enterprise.

Smugglers' Notch is closed for the winter!

2006-11-25T20:36:00.000-05:00

It was as good as it gets in November in Vermont. The temp was in the upper 40s and not a cloud in the sky. I decided to try one more run at VT 108 over Smugglers' Notch before the snow flies, which is usually well before now. This is a 60-mile loop for me; I call it "riding around the block," as all I need to do is take a right turn onto every road that is paved all the way through. I pumped up the sewups on my '82 Richard Sachs, hung a spare tubular under the saddle and headed out just after lunch.

It was a beautiful ride. The route travels aptly-named Pleasant Valley Road, which is one of the best cycling roads anywhere, in my opinion. I noted the sign in Jeffersonville announcing that the Notch is closed for the winter, but hoped that the recent warm weather had left the road passable. I went around the barrier on clear, dry road but a half-mile from the summit the ice started to appear. It's cold up there and where the cliffs shade the road on the north side, there is nothing to melt the ice. The road crew doesn't plow or salt the road once you get pass the barrier at the ski area. At first it was little patches of ice that made the rear wheel break loose with a "VVVT-VVVT" sound. Then it was the precarious slide of the front wheel until it caught pavement again. When there weren't many dry patches left, I decided I should get my cleat out of the pedal. Just in time! the bike shot out from underneath me just as I had my foot free.

I didn't want to turn back, expecting that the south side would be clearer than the north and knowing I wasn't far from the top. It was amazingly slippery in my road shoes; I had to aim for the crunchy spots and the bike didn't want to stay upright at all, even without a rider. As I neared the top, I actually passed another roadie walking his bike the other way! We agreed that the Notch should be considered closed for the winter.

The descent was even trickier than usual. The ice disappeared quickly, but the switchbacks on the south side are covered with clods of dirt that has washed across the road. The annual closing of the road makes it a pedestrian haven. People walking in groups are likely to cross the road right in front of you, not expecting cyclists to come whizzing up from behind. Even more hazardous are the unleashed dogs, who bound up from the brush to rejoin their masters, coming up out of nowhere right in front of you. I had to brake hard three times to avoid these dogs. And then there is the occaisional jerk, always a male, who just has to prove that his 4-wheel drive can still make the road. I so want these dopes to slide into the ditch! How gripping a steering wheel and pushing a gas pedal is supposed to prove to the world that these guys are tough is absolutely beyond me. Read the sign, dope!

It's a minor goal of mine to be one of the last roadies over the Notch as winter sets in and to be one of the first over it in the spring. It's a great ride, and the northern approach should be within the ability of almost any fit cyclist. We even rode our tandem over it this past summer. Give it a try, sometime!

Terrible Mountain on a Track Bike

2006-11-25T08:42:00.000-05:00

It was a Friday in early November and I was heading south on I89 on a beautiful day, heading for a full-day meeting in Boston. Hoping that I would have an hour or so of daylight after the meeting, I had tossed my trusty old Raleigh track bike into the back of the car. This bike has tons of stories of its own, but we won't go into them here. Suffice it to say that I have owned this bike since new and rode it enough to actually wear out a frame! Riding this bike taught me the value of a fixed gear bike for city riding; a realization that preceded the current fixation on fixies by decades. Since I would be in fairly flat Boston, I thought that the track bike was the perfect ride to bring along.

I had just crossed the Vermont- New Hampshire border when my cell phone rang. It was the organizer of the event telling me that it had been cancelled, due to a problem with the facility. Since I had already made arrangements for coverage for my classes and there was not time enough to get to school before half of them would be over, I decided to visit a couple of the schools that we support that are located on the east side of the state, instead.

I visited the instructors at Hartford Area Career & Technical Center in White River Junction and the River Valley Technical Center in Springfield, spending a couple of hours at each location. I wrapped up the visits around 1:00 and decided that there was time to get in a hilly loop, even if I didn't have the right bike for it. I drove to Chester and found a pull-off where I could park and change. I sped off on the track bike, hoping to get in about 50 miles before dark.

A track bike is not designed for road use, having a single, fixed gear (no coasting), short wheelbase and no brakes. I had long ago added a front brake and road tires. I also had installed wooden rims to help absorb some of the road shock and vibration that telegraphs through such a tight frame. The frame geometry of this bike is not extreme by today's standards but in the early 1970s, such a tight, 18 lb bike was considered a real screamer. The short wheelbase helps make up for the relatively high single gear ratio (48 x 16, in this case), but it can still be quite a grunt muscling up the really steep stuff.

With the declining daylight, I decided to cut off part of the ride by taking a "shortcut" through Andover. This is always risky when it's a road that you have not traveled before. Andover proved to be at the top of a significant climb, several miles long and steep enough to require an impressive switchback. The pavement was new and the road follows a classic Vermont mountain stream. Everything was fine until just after the switchback when I twisted my foot slightly and heard a SNAP and noticed one cleat was now sloppy in the pedal. I decided that it would be extremely difficult to get started again if I stopped, so I continued to the top of the climb where I stopped to discover that I had broken one of my cleats. Now, that's not such a surprise on a pair of 25-year old shoes with lots of miles, but it still can be a serious problem on a track bike, where good purchase on the pedals is critical. Going down descents means that you have to pedal at a very rapid pace, since you cannot coast or shift to a higher gear. Still, I didn't want to turn back, so I decided to take my chances and continue on the loop.

The descent down to Weston is quite steep, so I worked very hard, resisting the desire of the bike to rocket down the hill by pushing hard backwards on the pedals. You don't back pedal on a track bike like you would on a coaster brake. Instead, you apply backward pressure on the pedals in the same way that you apply forward pressure on a climb. The difference is that it's not as efficient, due to the position of the leg on the power stroke and you use a completely different set of muscles.

Half way down the slope I passed the only other rider I saw that day, who was riding a triple-zoot Trek up the hill. He sure gave me a funny look as I worked so hard pedaling down the hill! Once the slope eased up, I let the speed increase and concentrated on keeping up a high spin without letting the broken cleat slip out of the pedal.

I turned onto VT 100 at Weston and was happily spinning away the miles when I came to the intersection where 100 splits off from VT 155. It suddenly came to me where I was and that I would now have to go over Terrible Mountain before reaching Ludlow. I have strong memories of this climb, having done it many times from the other direction during the classic 100/200 double-century ride. Luckily, the climb from the south approach is shallower than from the north, though many times longer. As the second major climb of the ride, it took a lot of effort to muscle the fixed gear to the eventual summit; then it was another stand on the pedals and work the old Weinmann sidepull brake to control the speed on that nasty descent.

Once in Ludlow I clicked on my flasher, as the light was starting to fade and the traffic had picked up quite a bit. I spun up the pace as I passed VT 131, feeling very sorry that I would run out of light if I turned off on that incredibly beautiful road. If you ever get a chance, ride VT 131 from Ludlow through Cavendish. It is a gorgeous, gradual downhill that follows an incredible trout stream. It's pure joy on two wheels.

I had enough left in the tank to keep the RPMs up as I went over Proctorsville Gulf and down the other side. Once the road leveled off, it was only a few more miles to the pulloff where I had parked the car and I ended the ride just before the daylight started to fade.

The next day, I was stiff, but the second and third days I could hardly walk at all! As I said, the fixed gear uses a whole different set of muscles when going down hills and I had sure abused them. Moderation and training may be the key but still, I am glad to be able to say I've been over Terrible Mountain on a track bike!

Not Quite a SLAM

2006-10-20T13:22:00.000-04:00

About six weeks ago, I got an email from a listserv announcing a running of the Six-Gaps bicycle ride. Vermont is known in many circles for its “gaps,” which are mountain climbs that wind up steep hillsides, passing through natural saddles formed between peaks. There are a number of these that crisscross the spine of the Green Mountains in the central part of the state. For some reason, the north-south pass on Route 108 outside of Stowe is called Smugglers Notch. What makes one pass a “notch” and another a “gap” is beyond me. Smugglers’ Notch is quite different from any of the gaps with it’s sheer rock cliff rising hundreds of feet on the west side—it really looks like a notch. Hazen’s Notch is significant, but much less of a climb than any of the gaps. Plymouth Notch is an easy ride and one wonders how it merits a name at all—go figure.

The Six-Gaps ride covers the named Vermont gaps, which include, in order, Lincoln Gap, Appalachian (App) Gap, Middlebury Gap, Brandon Gap, Rochester Gap and Roxbury Gap. The distance is a total of 116 miles with the gaps rising from 1500’ to 1800’ in elevation change . Grades on most of the climbs average around 10%, but Lincoln Gap is in a class by itself, with about a mile and a half of grades that reach 24%. To give a sense of perspective, the steepest grade you will encounter on a US interstate highway is 5%. San Francisco’s Lombard Street reportedly averages 14.3% . Lincoln Gap is not just steep—it’s stupid steep.

I filed the Six-Gaps ride into the back of my mind as a definite “maybe.” I hadn’t done a single truly epic ride this season, though I have logged many miles and quite a few mountain climbs. I’ve done three double-gap climbs, if you count Smugglers’ Notch as a gap. As the day of the ride approached, I decided to go for it but the weather changed to a dreary, cold, rain and the other riders all backed out, as did I. Now, how to justify the triple chainring setup I had bought to attack Lincoln Gap?

I’ve done a number of long rides and hard climbs. In my youth, I would ride to Massachusetts from Albany, NY, ride over Mt. Greylock, and return over Petersburgh Pass. Yet, a few years ago, I tried the Killington-Pico Cycling Club’s LAMB ride (Lincoln, App., Middlebury & Brandon Gaps) but bailed out half-way through. The fact that I was exhausted and my car was less than five miles away proved irresistible. Though I’m in decent riding shape, I don’t know if I could pull off the Six-Gaps ride without experiencing debilitating leg cramps—my greatest nemesis. Without the need to meet up with other riders, I started thinking that a different combination of climbs might be more convenient, hence the SLAM, for Smugglers’ Notch, Lincoln Gap, App. Gap and Middlebury Gap. If I can tackle these successfully, they can be extended to include other gaps, with an emphasis on clever acronyms.

The triple setup I purchased from Peter White Cycles is a TA triple adapter for my classic Campagnolo Super Record crank that allows the fitting of a third chainring that is much smaller than the normal 41 tooth of the double setup. Campy made a triple with a 36 tooth small ring and other manufacturers made a 30 tooth ring to fit this setup, but these cranksets are quite rare and expensive these days and the sub 36 tooth rings are virtually impossible to find.

Fitting the triple adapter and finding suitable derailleurs that would shift both it and a wide-range freewheel proved to be a much bigger challenge than expected. I ended up with a Huret Duopar rear changer and a Campy C-Record front. The TA adapter does not use the shift pins, ramps and gates of modern triples, so finding a chain and front mech combination that would shift from the middle to the inner ring proved quite problematic. Three derailleurs and four chains later, I had an adequately shifting bike, but it was after noon. If I could have started by 9, I would have been able to tackle the SLAM. With these short October days, though, I would have to shorten the ride.

Since the whole point of the triple was to get me over Lincoln Gap, I decided to ride to App Gap and do it from the west, crossing back over Lincoln Gap from the harder east approach. Starting right from home, I went down our steep 3.5 miles of dirt road and started right out climbing wicked-steep Wes White Hill. I don’t know what the grade is of this short paved road, but I suspect it is about 22%. The setup worked ok and I didn’t use the bottom gear, staying in the 30-26 combination on the steepest parts. I proceeded against a stiff headwind down to App Gap on the Main Road through Huntington and had no trouble climbing over the gap. I stayed in the 42-26, my normal gear for this climb, most of the way, dropping to the 30-26 for the 500 meter 19% grade pull to the top. The forecast was for rain starting sometime in the late afternoon and the sky was a mix of blue and dark, foreboding gray. Coming down the other side, I decided to take a detour down German Flats road to the Sugarbush Access Road, which proved to be a long but not-to-tough climb, followed by a fast descent back to Route 100.

A couple of miles south in Warren, I turned onto Lincoln Gap. I have heard it said that Lincoln Gap boasts the steepest mile of paved road in the continental US. I cannot prove or disprove this, but it is one steep climb. I’ve done it twice successfully with a 36-28, but it was quite a grunt. My first attempt a few years ago was with a 42-26 and I couldn’t do it. This time, I stayed in the 30-26 most of the way, dropping to a 30-34 for the last pull to the top. The 24% grade is so steep that you have to slide forward in the saddle to keep the front wheel on the ground. This problem was exacerbated by the shift into the 34 and I had to get out of the saddle or be especially smooth in my cadence.

The descent down Lincoln Gap’s west side is no fun. You need to really lean on the brakes going down the steepest paved section and use great caution on the gravel stretch. Once the pavement starts again, you can let ‘er rip and it’s a fast ride down to VT 116. I decided to complete the loop by climbing VT 17 up the “Baby Gap,” the climb and descent that precedes App Gap, and diverting back down the Main Road through Huntington. The south wind, which ceased to be a problem as I criss-crossed the Green Mountains on the gaps, became a nice tailwind. I kept up a quick 22-26 mph pace until it started raining just south of Huntington. I picked up the pace to a blistering 26-30 mph until turning onto Dugway Road, where I slowed down to cut the amount of mud thrown up from the dirt road. It was pretty dark by the time I hit the top of the 16% grade on our dirt road, so I was happy to arrive home in the cold drizzle.

A couple of hours after arriving home and wiping all the rain and mud off the bike, I heard a loud BANG. My last, beautiful old Clement Criterium Cotton sewup had blasted a hole in its sidewall. Should I mourn the loss of such a rare and classic link to the lost heritage of wonderful Italian handmade racing tires, or thank my lucky stars that it didn’t leave me by the side of the road, prying a tire off in the cold twilight rain? If only it had lost most of its tread, or flatted with a repairable puncture. Oh, well. At least it had a grand last ride.

As far as the gearing is concerned, I think I might see if I can find a 13-28 or 13-30 seven speed freewheel. It’s not so much a question of whether or not I can make it up Lincoln with a 30-28, but if I’ll have enough left afterward to do at least two more gaps. Time and a convenient Indian Summer day may tell.

Double-Gap Ride--Too Early!

2006-03-25T15:56:00.001-05:00

This has been a warm winter--too warm by Vermont standards. Interestingly, the snow level at the stake on Mt. Mansfield has tracked the average depth pretty closely, but there are huge drops, where the snow has almost disappeared. Unfortunately for the ski areas, those drops have typically been just before important weekends. Downhill areas that made snow did ok, though the conditions were rarely great, but the crosscountry areas took a real beating.

The thaws did make for a lot of early-season sloppy road biking. Luckily, I have a couple of bikes with fenders to keep the crud off, and a couple of those steeds have had to resign themselves to becoming the designated road salt rides. I have gotten in more miles by this time of year than any other since I moved to Vermont 25 years ago, including a couple of gap rides.

Vermont has a number of "gaps", really mountain passes that branch out east or west from VT 100, passing over the spine of the Green Mountains. The list is generally recognized as, from north to south and east to west: Appalachian Gap, Lincoln Gap, Middlebury Gap, Brandon Gap, Moretown Gap, Roxbury Gap, and Rochester Mountain Gap (taken from Vermont Deathride). I would add the perhaps misnamed Plymouth Notch (really easy) and the wonderful Smuggler's Notch to the list. About the only difference is that gaps run east-west, and notches run pretty much north-south, but even that's not consistent, as in the case of Hazen's Notch. At any rate, the gaps and notches are favorite targets for cyclists. All are a challenge and some, like the stupid-steep Lincoln Gap, are epic memorable-for-a-lifetime rides for most cyclists. I ride Smuggler's Notch and Appalachian Gap several times a year, since both are on nice 50-60 mile loops from my house in Bolton.

So perhaps that's why I snapped at the bait when John Painter suggested a double-gap ride over Appalachian and Middlebury gaps, the route of the Green Mountain Stage Race, on March 11th. We met up near John's home in Starksboro and headed down VT 117 to the bottom of VT 17, where the App Gap starts. The temp was in the low '40s and I thought I might have been a little overdressed, though it didn't turn out that way. I was riding the Bianchi Squadra, as it had a 42x26 and index shifting--it was a good choice. John, of course, dropped me right away on the 'baby gap'. I caught him once, when he stopped to take off his jacket, but he didn't let that happen again. It's not that John is 20 years younger than me--he's just an amazing all-around athlete.

I didn't have any trouble getting the rest of the way up App Gap, and John is always kind enough not to take off at the top of climbs. I did my share of the pulling down VT 100 through Granville Gulf to Brandon where we took our only real break. Getting up Middlebury Gap was another thing, however. Middlebury Gap is easier than App Gap, but it grinds you down as it gets steepest at the top--in true Vermont gap fashion. About 2/3rd the way up, the leg cramps started and they stayed with me the rest of the ride, which was a long 30 miles. I'd be going along just fine when "WHAM", I'd get a slamming pain in the leg. Calf, thigh, left leg, right leg, they all took their turns tormenting me. Still, the wind cooperated, dying down toward the end of the day when it became a headwind, the sun poked out a few times, we rode past melting snowfields, ticked off a couple of gaps and got in a rugged 65 miles, earning some serious bragging points for this early in the season. Woo-Hoo!!!

2006-03-25T09:09:00.000-05:00

VT-BUDS is online!

http://vtbuds.com is a website for Vermont tandem teams to connect for rides and to post ride reports--s sort of tandem rideboard. The site is setup so that people can post ride photos in their announcements and reports. The site is up and running just in time for Vermont's riding season (I saw four other riders on my 30 mile round-trip commute yesterday). I think this is an original idea, so time will tell if it takes off or fizzles. The hope is that it will encourage people to ride tandems by making it easier to connect with others. Tandems are socially oriented by their very nature. And if more tandems are seen out on the road, more people will be interested in giving them a try. Tandems are a positive image for cycling. While some people immediately get annoyed when they have to slow down to pass a single cyclist or, even worse, a pair of cyclists riding side-by-side, everyone likes to see a tandem!