Shifting Riding Styles

I rode 48 miles today from Portsmouth down to Exeter, over to Epping and Newcastle and back up again on the Specialized Langster I assembled last year. That bike climbs incredibly well with the combination of a stiff frame and low weight. But it akes me miss light geared bikes. The fixed gear had me feeling held back, reserved. I wanted to accelerate and keep speeds higher than I was willing to continuously pedal. And climbing later in the ride, like around mile 35 or so, became manageable but more restrictive on the fixed gear. Here's the LINK to the GMaps Pedometer map w/ elevation chart..
So I suppose my riding style might be shifting back to the more traditional geared cycling, trying to bring back some speed that I've let go of the past 4 years or so.

Silent Action Rides: No Coasting!

I should have posted this earlier. Oops I guess. I'm signed on to lead a monthly fixed gear ride through (Previous employers) bike shop in Portsmouth. The intention is not to alienate any non-fixed gear riders. The idea is to get cyclists to consider a fixed gear bicycle as more than just a novelty around town bicycle, and to introduce the idea of riding fixed gear bicycles to those interested in a new adventure.
It' a blast spinning down the country farm roads on a fixed gear bike; no shifting, no drivetrain noise, leveraging up inclines and spinning like mad down the other side. Riding a fixed gear bicycle is great training with the added resistance of having only one gear for all the hill climbing while improving cadence and efficient circular pedal turning on descents.
The rides will meet at 9am on the second Sunday of each month. The first in the Silent Action series will be this Sunday, that's two days from now. We'll go about 30 miles or so to start. I intend to introduce longer rides each month. If you want to come along, bring two water bottles, snacks, flat repair apparatus, your fixed gear bicycle, a helmet.
We're not racing and we're not putzing. We'll ride a comfortable pace averaging about 15-18 mph for a couple of hours.

Time To Ride! Monday Dec. 14

Monday 12/14 looks as if the temp will get up over 40 degrees, hopefully thawing the previous night's ice-over by mid morning. Overcast, but it may be worth pumping up the tires and suiting up for a decent ride. Get out before 10:30 to take advantage of the best part of the day. That will also give you ample time to get in 60-75 miles. So DO IT! Then write about it here...CHECK THE WEATHER!!!

Staying Warm on Late Autumn Rides (On A Budget of Nil)

As those of you two readers may have gleaned from scanning through these lonely posts, I am by profession, a Bicycle Mechanic. I've worked for 8 years in bike shop service departments. One of the two of you might know that in November in New England, this is code for "unemployed". So the money's not coming in. The benefit checks are stuck in the bureocratic net which is the State Services offices.
So how am I able to keep warm on these long rides on cold days without the cash to purchase one of those new solar powered toe warmers with solar jersey? I have a few tricks I'm about to lay on 'ya.
First trick is nothing new. Watch any pre-2000 Tour de France, when the riders have reached the apex of the Alpe de Huez or Mt. Ventroux, just as they are about to descend. You might notice people in the crowd handing something off to riders. What is it? A halibut? Burrito? Crepes? No fine readers, it's a newspaper. Just the 'help wanted' section is enough insulation when stuffed down the front of your jersey to take the chill off. It makes a huge difference. I prefer to fetch a Dunkin Donuts bag out of their dumpster. That way if I'm Bon King from lack of calories, I can eat the bag.
Keeping toes warm can be a tough matter. I've tried wrapping my toes in pages from Career News magazine, which sort of helps, for a while I think. Another good tip is to pull over and grab a handful of those dried oak leaves. Crunch them up as fine as you can and put them in your cycling shoes. The leaf dust has biomass that will retain your body heat and keep your feet warm! If your toes still get too cold, if you have matches, you can ignite the combustible leaf dust to generate more temporary heat in your shoes.
Another foot warmer fashion tip: Search the side of the road for those free weekly advertisers that people pretend they never see piling up beneath their mailbox. They're usually stuffed in a plastic bag with a rubber band around it. The advertiser goes down your jersey, and the bag over your shoe, fastened with the rubber band! Keep that body heat in!
An inexpensive material to keep body heat in all over, is a roll of saran wrap. For just a couple of dollars, one roll should be enough to wrap your torso, arms, legs, feet, neck, and head at least twice! I suppose that depends on your girth. This technique works well in the rain as well as dry weather. It helps to have a riding buddy to help wrap you up. If you're careful, your wrapping buddy might be able to unravel your wrap back onto the roll to save for the next ride!
Keeping your head warm is crucial for overall warmth retention. The stylish cycling cap worn under a helmet helps a lot. Don't have the dough for the cycling cap? Try putting that "help wanted" section under your helmet! You can trim the excess off with a pair of scissors. Careful not to give yourself a hair trim while your at it. Saran wrap over the helmet vents works well also. Another idea made popular by Sheldon Brown, who created a fashion statement by covering his helmet vents with clear packing tape! You can hardly see it's there! I don't think the eagle did anything to retain body heat.
Ginger is a natural body furnace stoker. When the temps dip down, I carry with me a few candied ginger chews. These can really take the edge off. Unless you are allergic, in which case, they could really turn your ride into a bummer time.
Now try some of these ideas out yourself. Leave comments as far as your experience or other ideas. But do NOT use cold temps as an excuse for a vegetative state.

Epic Redefined, 83 Miles into the Unknown

It was 60 miles into this ride that I thought to myself, I really need to plan my attacks better with regard to the high-mile rides. My brother Andrew, also a bicycle mechanic, was performing in Cambridge later that night. So embarking on this ride that took me off the edge of the map I had with me, continuing to turn left, ever outward, further, ever seeking more, may have not been the best choice. But it was a blast. This route was pretty random. Three stretches of dirt starting with Belle Marsh Rd, McGovern, and Josiah Norton. When back on Tatnic Rd again in York, I thought about how most of those dirt roads were smoother than the frost heaves I was enduring heading east. Damn frost heaves.
37 graveyards total. Number 19 was just a lone grave in the forest, soon to be surrounded by rural suburban sprawl. I had to stop and consult the map at one point when the road forked at the Massabesic Experimental Forest near Alfred. "Massawhussa where the hell am I?" I thought. When I left the driveway, I had no inclination I would end up in National Forest land.
I got home around dusk. I stuffed my face with pasta, took a shower, and as soon as we were able, Eli and I were headed to Cambridge to see Andrew. Needless to say, we missed his performance. We had dinner, a few beers, and said our goodbyes as he and the band headed out for an all night drive.
Check the route here at my new Map My Ride account..

Berwicks, Dirt, and Dead People, 74 Miles Indian Summer

I tried leaving by ten. I did! So I finally rolled out at 11. Which often means a mad dash home while the sun is saying its bedside prayers. What a freaking beautiful day it was Monday too. Sunny and warm, I was overdressed in two layers. The arm warmers and gloves came off and stashed away. The oak leaves seem to be just about the last ones in the trees and even they're losing their grip.
First I ran into Peter walking his adorable dog Bean. We talked about work, lack of it, lack of motivation, and making the most of our free time. Then I pedaled on in the rare instance of clockwise order. Eliot, South Berwick, and then out. Up almost to Berwick, then right at Blackberry Road. And that's where I ran into Brian. Geez, everybody's out on a beautiful day like that. I talked to Brian for a bit next to graveyard no. 16. He knows those roads out there better than I and suggested a general direction. So what do I do as soon as we part? Hang the next left going waay out further, totally away from his recommended route.
Ultimately I saw 35 graveyards on this ride. This is no exaggeration, I counted every last one and only once. I am certain I missed at least two on top of this confirmed number.
I also went by a rock quarry, and a plastic sign in front of somebody's house that read "Protect America's Freedom, Leave The United Nations!" Wow. To think we have to share this patch of dirt.
Speaking of dirt, the first bit I got to roll over was just 6 miles into this thing, on Bartlett Rd. Mile 55 or so found me once again on Cheney Woods road climbing and then descending the rocky dirt. And finally, mile 60 or so, I was on Josiah Norton, pedaling over the dirt again. Addicted to fixed gears and dirt roads. Sick in so many ways. Once again the sun was hanging low by the time I rolled up the driveway. At least I could still see the ground. I need to start leaving earlier.

Escape From Prouts Neck, 69.69 Miles

After getting out the vote, I got dropped off in the slums of Prouts Neck, left to fend for myself. Armed with some copies of pages from the Gazetteer atlas, I set out to untangle the knotted ball of roads that stood between me and home. The route looked squirly requiring travel in the wrong direction a couple times. Twenty miles of this ride were accumulated by heading far enough west to circumvent the Saco River without having to cross I95.
I thought to myself that this awkward layout of roads must have come about from early settlers having just an rough idea where they were headed when they set out to cut a road through the woods. Or maybe these small intersection towns were just never a priority to get directly to. In any case, it was a zig zag route with the goal of remaining west of I95.
I stopped at Spiller Farm Feeds and Needs store. I got apples from the farm, a home baked apple turnover, a banana and water. It was a cool little independent store surrounded by the Spiller farm.
Once again the sun set on me while I was still navigating Bell Marsh dirt. It seemed as if the Sun took an hour to slowly fall beneath the treeline. I squeezed every last ray out until the road was finally overtaken by darkness. Soon enough, the waning remnants of last night's full Hunter's moon silvered the asphalt and it is under this light that I finally pulled up my driveway exhausted. I counted 17 graveyards. The first half of this ride only produced the first five. See the mapped out route here...

68 Miles Into The Darkness...

I was slackin' this morning, not sure if I was going to ride or not. But it is beautiful East Coast fall outside right now and too soon it will be followed with slush covered ice. So around noon I suited up, filled the water bottles and rolled out for North Berwick. There are three Berwicks and North Berwick is the furthest north of the three. It seemed like an exotic destination because nobody ever has an excuse to go to North Berwick. I haven't been there in the two years I've lived here. I've actually only been there once, on a bike ride about 8 years ago. Prior to departure I had looked up espresso joints in North Berwick. They have a Dunken Donuts. But there is also Carpe Diem coffee roasters on Rte. 9 just north of North B. So I headed there to see if they actually served coffee, or just roasted. There is a reception room where there is coffee, hot water for tea, and other stuff you can buy. The people there were really nice. But the coffee was 'eh. A blend of two S. American coffees, and French roasted Sumatra. Its' a strange choice of beans to blend. But I couldn't really tell the result as the brew was too weak and tasted as if it were made that morning. They do roast some good coffee. My guess is the coffee station in the reception room is sort of an after thought.
Coffee down, and onward. I had passed the ET Eastern Trail bike route on Tuesday's ride. So this time around, I headed out on it, further north. My instincts were telling me to turn around and start back south. But the road kept calling and I was powerless to ignore it. I was within 10 miles of Sanford before I started making my round about way back south bound.
This whole time I had a map I copied out of the Maine Gazetteer that I referenced frequently. In fact I lost this map out of my jersey pocket. But I thought I'd heard it fly out of the pocket. So I back tracked a mile searching the side of the road until I spotted it. Good thing I did! I was in uncharted territory. I would have had to try to head left from the sun's trajectory to make it home.
The Gazetteer marked Cranberry Rd as continuing as dirt south of Rte. 9. So for some unexplainable reason, I decided that was my route. I'd already done about 3 miles of dirt and gravel roads form Bell Marsh and Emery's Bride (road construction). Looking across 9, I saw what looked like a drive way behind a trailer, that ended in a pile of tree trunks. I took a left, and a quick right. And there, by the entrance to a school, was what looked like a wide single track through the woods, Cranberry Road. I got in about 1/2 mile before the first pond taking up the width of the "road" for 5 meters. The rest of the way until the final 1/4 mile was swamped with deep puddles. I was forced to portage most of that way. Turns out this section of Cranberry Rd. doesn't show as connecting on Google Maps. Pretty wild.
Finally back on pavement, another New England road without a name. I guessed and went right which actually worked out. Now I was finally getting close to South Berwick.
By that point the sun was sitting pretty low. I got a little panic. No lights, 30 miles to go. I put the hammer down and started cruising south bound. By the time I was leaving Eliot, it was just about dark. The moon lit up the dark sections of road. It was pretty sketchy.
I counted 24 grave yards on this ride, not counting repeats. I counted 6 fake or plastic graveyards in Halloween decorating fashion. I think it's odd in an area where every house that's a hundred years or older, has a small very real graveyard on the property, the styrofoam graves in the front yard are still a popular way to show one's holiday spirit. The mockery of death, an odd means to try and quell the fear people have about the part of the life cycle which is death. This one here was in North Berwick. It was actually painted plywood, obviously the work of a crafty holiday decorator, replete with names of the imaginary deceased and birth/death dates. Perhaps the real 150+ year old graveyard across the street made for a good model.
Check out this video, you'll get a brief sense of the ride.

I Bought A One Way Ticket to Epic, 75+ Miles

Oh Google Maps, where will you take me next?
Eli was working near Biddeford this morning. So I loaded the bike into the back of her pick up and hitched a ride to the Biddeford Park And Ride. It was c-c-cold at 9:15 this morning at the parking lot. I stuffed the directions and map I printed down my jersey to cut the wind, which was a life saver. It wouldn't be until over two hours later that I decided to do the same for my cold toes; wrapped them in directions for the roads behind me.
Lots of riding 3 miles to a dead end like when I decided to check out University of New England University and Hills Beach Road. Two miles down the beach road to the end of the Pavement. No way to continue without a boat. I u-turned and cut a left down supposedly "closed" road Old Pool Rd. The work crew let me pass. Then down Mile Stretch Rd. only 20 minutes later. Another down and back road on the other side of "The Pool".
Lots of stopping and looking at the map and directions fer sure. I had accidentally printed the backwards, from KP to Biddeford. So every time I had to figure out the next step, I'd have to stand on my head to read the directions in the right order.
This ride included three awesome dirt road sections, two of them unexpected! Apparently Cheney Woods is dirt for about a mile of climb and dissent. It really was awesome: dirt, rocks, pits and all. I ran into a mountain biker stopped and tinkering on his IPhone. He was decked in SAFETY ORANGE, which I thought was smart, given we were standing there on Cheney Road at the beginning of hunting season. The next dirt came along on Josiah Norton Rd. which I had been curious aboout while studying the maps. Turns out it goes to dirt about 1/2 mile in from either direction. Pretty well groomed, clay, with just a bit of washboard.
What a haul. It was Freakin sweet.
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Mission Complete: First FIxie Group Ride

How could somebody be late to their own event? It was strategic. I figured if I was 15 minutes late, not only would that give some time for other straggling riders to show up, but when they arrived a little late, they would be spared the humiliation of being late because I hadn't arrived yet! The only thing is, nobody else beside Josh Pierce showed up. Never mind that, though. We had a blast. Josh showed me the sneaky way to get from Papa Wheelies over to Pease, including some nice wide abandoned roads perfect for sprint workouts. We headed over the abandoned bridge and out to Dover. We tagged Dover and bounced over to Rollinsford. A stop in Black Bean Cafe for good coffee and some food, bathroom, more water. Then a fast descent followed by the inevitable climb up to Rte. 4. S. Berwick tag and then down Underhill Rd to Eliot, Kittery, over the Memorial Bridge and back to Papa Wheelies. A sweet, quick ride. All you sad suckers missed out. There's always next time. Write in preferred days/times to join in the next ride...

Across The Great Bay Again: Clockwise for 50+ Miles...

The problem with this time of year, is getting the warm layers right. Today I was sure I would be shaking in my booties. Within 15 miles, I peeled away 4 heat conserving items cause I was too freakin hot. I was wearing a Specialized Deflect Trail jacket I had bought earlier in the year. I don't know who it was designed for. But there is waay too much material in the upper arm. It becomes quite annoying when the arms get to a-flappin in the wind like a flag atop a ship's mast. The jacket also turns out to breathe about as well as any other "breathable" water resistant material I've come across. That is to say, about as breathable as a plastic bag. It was dripping inside. I tied it around my frame and kept going.
Checking out this loop south from Portsmouth, through Greenland, back up to Pease, across the cool abandoned bridge, Dover Pt. Road, tagged Dover, back through Eliot. I forgot to count the grave yards! I'm going to guess over 15. 4 hours and 50 plus miles. I have a hard time believing it was only 50 miles. Whatever.

Lost And Delerious, Going Clockwise 57 miles

I had to beat the rain predicted to arrive by 3pm. So I figured only 3 hours this time out. To mix it up a bit on the same old roads here in Southern Vacationland, I opted to go the same route I posted below, only backwards. That seemed fine. Until I entered the obscure suburban maze off 238 that is The Old Mill suburban community. Suburbs are like vortexes, mind fucks of modern living. I was looping around the same "Lanes" and "Drives" over and over until I began to curse the inhabitants. Who would choose to live like this? In a manicured system of oversized hampster habitrails that go nowhere? And what sick mind would continue to design them?
Once I made it out, I was again in familiar territory, Agamenticus Road. Easy, right? Just go right, take another right at Emery Bridge Rd. and you're homeward bound. Unless you happen to take a left at the Meeting House church instead of continuing straight. If you take a left, you end up on a 45 minute loop that finds us back at the entrance to, you guessed it, the same suburban hell. Now I'm an hour off schedule. On that dreadful loop I was challenged by a bull dog who had not been tethered to the trailer he guarded. The fella got across the yellow doubles toward me as I picked up the pace. I yelled Fuck You, which in these moments, sounds more like "Fugeuh". But he slowed down as he found out I barked louder. He also was a pretty slow fucker and couldn't top 28 miles an hour.
The rain never really materialized. But I was out of water and food about an hour and a half from home. The last 45 minutes were a bit delirious.
Another observation about clockwise, was the frost heaves. They were way worse on the side of the roads going clockwise! I have no idea why. Every time I entered the astroid field of frost heaves, I'd take a look across the double yellow stripes at pristine pavement. So I guess it's counter clockwise from here on out. In some places, the pavement had cracked and split into chunks of squares, loose but still held in place. Riding through these sections creates a popping, crackling sound as each chunk shifts beneath the weight of the bicycle's wheels. Sort of strange, sort of eerie. 57 miles, a few less than Monday given that I didnt' end up on Tatnic Rd. this time around. That's ok too.

60 Miles on the Squeaky Cleat Trail

I tried greasing the bolts and bolt plate of my SPD cleats before I left. They still creaked like a mo'fo for all 60 miles. I didn't lose my map this time. But I did discover that some road names used by Google Maps are incorrect. In fact, there is one road in Kittery on Google Maps that no longer exists! I know because I bushwacked it with my fixie last spring. It's overgrown poison ivy patch boardering a swamp. Scenic, yes. A road, definitely not. And near by that chicken path is a distribution warehouse Google Maps labels as a shopping plaza. But it's not just Google Maps. I also had problems with incorrect road names on my Maine Gazetteer atlas. Thus, I needed to stop repeatedly to get my bearings. Apparently, Maine is so primitive as to not been mapped accurately or not recently.
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In THe Beginning...

Bikes didnt' even have gears. They were a perch with two wheels you propelled by pushing along like you would on a skateboard. This was long before skateboards. Before Nascar, racing fixed gears on velodromes was the hot sport to see, wager on, and otherwise be a part of. Velodromes could be found in every major city around the world. Kids grew up dreaming of flying along the wooden track at speeds faster than the motorized vehicles of the time. This was before football, TV, remote controls and all the evils that came with that stuff. Velodrome racing, freestyle riding, urban messengers, commuters; the fixed gear bicycle is a machine that has found a home under many cyclists.
This is the place where I will disperse with information regarding fixed gear only group bicycle rides through the countryside around the Southern NH/Maine landscape. My aim is to bring together a community of people who love riding the fixies on longer distance rides. These rides will be at least 30 miles, with the goal of working up to a fixed gear century. Sound easy? We'll see. These rides won't be races, more like "easy" miles with lunch/espresso stops along the way. Or at least as easy as pushing a 49/18 gear up and spinning down the other side of this glacier torn terrain can be!
The first ride will be scheduled sometime in October before Halloween. My goal is to organize two rides a month, one shorter, one a bit longer. Like a 30 than a 50 miler or some such thing.
So check in regularly, keep in touch, and get some tension on that chain. Soon we'll be rollin'.