Specialized Roubaix Expert 10,000 mile report

I've ridden my Specialized Roubaix Expert 10,000 miles since getting it, and writing about it in this post. I'm still very happy with it. I've made a few changes, and had a few things have happened since I bought it.

I hated the saddle it came with and replaced it with  Specialized Toupe immediately. That saddle was OK, but I didn't love it, and it's important to love you saddle. I replaced it with a Selle Italia SLK that I do love. I've done double centuries on it and my buns feel fine at the end.

The bars that came on this 52 cm frame were 42 cm, a bit wide for me. The shop swapped them for the 40 cm model, which is a better fit for my size.

The wheels it came with were  a model of Roval Fusée. I broke a spoke on the rear wheel during the Davis Double. I'd read online that several people had problems with spoke breakage, and that Specialized was aware that some wheels had been built in such a way (something to do with incorrect spoke prep fluid or something) that they knew they were breaking. I contacted the shop that sold me the bike, who contacted Specialized.

I expected a wait of forever, and needing wheels for upcoming rides I ordered a set of Williams System 19s, a great, lightweight wheel set that arrived almost immediately.   Much to my surprise, Specialized responded very quickly to my bike shop, and not only replaced the wheels, but upgraded them to Roval Fusée SL 25.  So now I have two nice sets of wheels! I use the Williams a lot, but now have them set aside with latex tubes and lightweight tires for double centuries. I have Rovals for daily use. They are near the same weight, with the Roval front being just a tad more heavy.

The bike came as a triple with 52-39-30 and an 11-28 cassette. God only knows why they think an 52-11 gear is necessary on a bike with a triple. I'd have speced it differently, but perhaps Shimano gave them no choice.

I tossed a 12-30 cassette on the Williams wheels for super steep climbing rides. Read about my choice here.

Other than that, the bike is pretty much stock, with full Ultegra components.  I added water bottle cages, a bag, Shimano pedals, a Sigma computer and Garmin 305, a road morph pump, and that's it.

In a nut shell, I love this bike. It handles well, and is comfortable as all get out. Sometimes when I'm riding with others who complain about the rough road, I realize I'm not bothered at all. I don't so much notice a smooth ride as much as I don't notice a rough ride. I've done a good fist-full of centuries and double centuries and I've noticed I don't finish all beat up. I'm worn out, but not rattled to pieces. Is it the Zertz inserts, or just the overall design? I don't know, but it seems to be working. I also used to get a worn out, sore neck. I don't think I'm sitting more upright on this bike, but my neck is much more happy at the end of a long ride.

I also think this bike looks sharp. I like the somewhat subtle graphics, and I like the color. I even like the graceful  bow of the top tube, though I realize that's a personal preference. I feel lucky I got it the year I did as Specialized stopped making a Roubaix Triple at this component level and I don't like the new color schemes as well. I'm happy with the triple, and find the 39 tooth freewheel is often just the right size for a lot of my riding.

I highly recommend this bike.

Tierra Bella — but wait, there's more!

Tricia and I bought the Tierra Bella ride jerseys. Their cool design was one of the reasons we wanted to ride this century (report and photos in my last post). There was a small bobble of a problem with sizing, but the nice ride staff solved it for us. Tricia ended up with an extra-small the fits perfectly. Of course, we wore them the next day on our twenty-five-mile-recovery-ride-with-mexican-food.

Tricia mentioned  to me that she had a rare contribution to this blog. here it is:
"Guys, when you're using the potra-potty, there's a lock for a reason. Use it. I don't need to see your back side. And while I'm on the subject, when you stop for a natural, try to be a little more discreet."

She grew up with brothers and boys, so she isn't that all that sensitive, but as she says, "Come on guys, really?"

Medical report:
That darn strain in my leg bothered me too much all day long. Fortunately it bothers me the least when I stand and climb. But on long flats into a headwind every pedal stroke is a twinge. I'm doing all teh voodoo I can over the next week. Today's recovery ride didn't bother me much, so I still have hopes it will be magically healed for DMD in two weeks. Time for electro-stimulation... now.

Tierra Bella 2012

When Tricia and I left the hotel in Gilroy, garlic capital of the world, to head for Galvin College to start the 2012 Tierra Bella Century ride, the sky was dark and the flags were standing straight out. It was...worrisome. But by the time we got to the college and had our bikes ready the day was a bit brighter and the college was in a wind shadow, faking us out into believing the wind would not be a factor.

Once we got to the road we found ride starts slightly uphill and into a headwind. What a nice way to start the day! But after a few miles we got to the first climb of the day, up around Gilroy Hotsprings. What a beautiful area. Everything was green and still wet from the showers the day before. We rode past cattle, and horses so big and beautiful Tricia asked me if I'd seen Daenerys Targaryen, Calisi of the Dothraki, in among them. I have to find an easy way to make photos when I'm cold and fully gloved. I was too busy staying warm to want to mess with my gloves, so alas, no Daenerys photos.
There was, however, a skeleton by the side of the road, holding a warning sign and cautioning us about the steep (and delightful) descent.

The Alamaden Cycling Club has wonderful support. Beyond the skeleton,  they'd posted volunteers at many difficult intersections to help with traffic and point out tricky lane crossings. The route was very well marked. Well enough that even I didn't get lost.

After the Hot Springs climb and descent we got to my favorite part; endless headwinds. I just suck at headwinds. No one loves them, but I just don't have what it takes to power through them. If I hadn't been on Tricia's wheel I'd still be out there. Not only did I shamelessly suck wheel for miles, but at one point I looked back and she was dragging along about seven tough-looking guys.

All "fun" ends, and this did when we got to the Henry Coe climb. I'd so much rather climb than do flats. I felt great, passed a lot of folks and didn't get passed much.

 Depending on where you start counting, Coe is about 3100 feet over 12 miles, and mostly double digits. And beautiful, with sweeping views of the valley. It was nice to climb, and get warm.


I saw a guy who must have a professional rider for Astana. He had their full team kit on, and I don't think they allow that if you aren't on the team, right? It is indeed a nice looking kit.

At the top we were at the 50 mile mark, half way done. Before we descended we bundled up again to counter overcast sky, cool temperature and the steep downhill. It was a cold day, and even with all the climbing we'd never become truly warm. Thus armed against the weather we started our screaming, face numbing trip back down, only to encounter a shirtless rider on his way up. Someone in this story has no clue, and I hope it isn't us.

We descended, fought too much headwind and eventually hit some more climbs. They don't look like much on the map compared to Coe, but as surprise climbs at the end of the ride they sure got my attention.

At last  we  hit the home leg — and a tail wind — where we got to ride at 20-24 for a while. Tricia just launched, and we ended up blowing the doors off a lot of other riders as we got closer to the start.
As a tri-geek said to me as we rolled past him, "She's really enjoying herself."

My Gamin died at mile 96, but the Sigma computer said 104 miles at the end. The Strava upload claims 8126 feet of climbing. We were toast. But happy toast.



Tricia said she was getting a bit concerned because I'd had seven blog posts without her in them. She'd suffered a cycling setback and just hadn't been out with me lately. So for those distant readers who might have been wondering, but were too polite to ask, yes, she is still, and always will be, my Calisi.

In the begining

Matt Gass, near the Diablo Summit, sometime in the 70s.

Fans of me, and this blog, have been asking for ages "Yes, but where did it all start?" It's time to reveal my humble roots and at the same time, marvel that I can still even ride.

Sometime in the early-mid 70s I bought a Gitane Grand Sport Deluxe from a now-defunct bike shop on Mt. Diablo Boulevard in Walnut Creek. I ued it to commute to Diablo Valley College. I few years later my neighborhood friend, Matt Gass, who was a cyclist and a garage sale explorer suggested I go with him in search of the restorable saxophones he enjoyed searching for. We started spending Saturdays and Sundays riding all over the county, garage sale to garage sale. We never found much, but we rode a lot.

Matt had a Stella bicycle and, unusual for the time, a helmet. He always said his brain was worth protecting. So I bought a Bell Biker too.

He taught me how to draft, ride with a group, clean my chain and replace a freewheel. He took me on a ride  up to the Mt. Diablo summit for the first time(42 x 26...30 pounds of steel... I was younger then.)

Matt had a wonderful quirk I never told him I noticed for fear he'd stop. He was unable to ride past an animal and not make the sound of that animal.  Riding up Pig Farm Hill was always fun because I knew he'd be oinking before the ride was over.

We rode together constantly until he moved to attend UC Davis. His departure made cycling a lot less fun for a long time. I still remember him fondly when I ride some of our old routes, like our "Tour of Walnut Creek" or past Easy Street in Danville.

#pandaportrait

Not that I understand, but apparently if you are a photographer and a cyclist you are required by custom and law to make a photo of yourself, while moving, and call it a #pandaportrait. There's even a Flickr pool of 'em. Not wanting to be left behind by all the cool kids, I made one too, so I can be different like everybody else.

I made mine on a full-kit trip to the post office to drop off a Netflix DVD. I just wanted credit for 30daysofbiking

Mt. Diablo. Twice.

After a week of recovering from the Solvang Double Century with just my usual bike commute and a couple of half-hearted intervals, Lance Oldstrong suggested we join BikeForums.net all around cool dude Taxi777 (Pete) on his ride to the Diablo summit from South Gate. Then he had an even better idea: Gather Steve up, head up Northgate to the summit, drop down the Southgate, meet Pete and Ron, and summit again. I've never even considered doing that before, but I claim to be preparing for the Devil Mountain Double, so there was no way to say no.

I arrived at the meeting place and put my bike together. Except for the front wheel, which I'd left in the garage. As I loitered with Steve, Lance Oldstrong was kind enough to go to his closer-than-my home and get his Williams System 19 front wheel to loan me. So, we got off about 15 minutes late.

We had a delightful ride up in the cool morning air. We were all feeling reasonably frisky, even knowing we were going to do it twice. I was surprised to see ice coating the trees — and blowing into us — as we neared the summit. Climbing at relatively slow speed and putting out a lot of heat made the morning seem not cold at all.

The ride down was a lot colder. Really a lot colder. Even in full gloves and jacket I froze. I'm not a fast descender anyway, but being cold and stiff makes being smooth a lot harder.  Steve and Dan left me in the dust until I caught them, stopped by the road. Oldstrong managed to get quite the tire cut and flat, requiring a boot.

We met Pete and Ron coming up a few moments later and started climb number two. I was feeling really good, but still couldn't keep up with Pete, on his single speed no less.

We managed to summit again, still feeling better than I have after just one trip up. I was ready to head home, but Oldstrong, being Oldstrong, figured if two was good, three was better, and announced he'd do it yet again. I think I made it to the hot tub when I got a text from him announcing his third summit of the day. Somehow I managed to get no photos of Ron, but he really was there. He has a good ride report on his blog.

On a side note, I somehow slightly strained my calf on the Solvang ride. As I have already announced that this is the year of health voodoo, I decided to try TENS (Transcutaneous electrical nerve stimulation) with a unit I happened to have. It may have helped. I sure felt better on Sunday. My clinical trial of one test with no control group seems to indicate potential success. 

 

Thanks to Steve for the photos of the ice tree, Pete, and myself riding with Dan.

Devil Mountain of Doom?

Yep. I did it. I signed up for the Devil Mountain Double Century.

I've agonized over this sine January. Can I do it? Should I try. In the end, the deciding factor was "I'm not getting any younger."

From the description on the Triple Crown site: "On this ride, you'll have the opportunity of climbing Mt. Diablo and Mt. Hamilton in the San Ramon area. Certainly "not for the faint of heart", this ride is a major challenge for sure!!

Mt. Diablo was listed by BICYCLING magazine as one of the ten toughest climbs in America. Mt. Diablo rises 3,200 feet in 10.5 miles to a height of 3,849 feet. Mt. Hamilton will have you climb 2,100 feet in just 7 miles to the 4,100 foot peak.

Sierra Road will be your biggest test: not only is it incredibly steep, climbing 1,800 Feet in 3.2 Miles, but it comes after 150 miles!!

Most of this ride is very rural, very scenic, and very low on traffic. The terrain is unspoiled and rugged. If you like to climb and are ready for a real challenge, this ride's for you!!"

Notice that I used a Christmas stamp with the baby Jesus on it. Pray for me.

Solvang Double Century in the wind 2012

There aren't many photos from the Solvang Double. It's too hard to drag out my iPhone wearing glove liners, and even if I do the screen doesn't react. So this is it. LanceOldStrong, Me, and Spingineer in our extra-fine looking California Triple Crown Gold jerseys at an early rest stop.

Solvang is supposed to be an easier double century (like there is such a thing.) Lance Oldstrong, my road partner and room mate for this adventure met Spingineer, a BikeForums buddy, and launched  at 5 am. We rocked. There wasn't any of the expected rain I worried about, and there was no wind. We danced up the climbs. We had a ball. We were fast enough that the Planet Ultra folks at the first rest stop chastised Oldstrong for getting there too soon. We knocked off the first 100 miles in six hour and were thinking we'd get back before dark.

Then it all changed. The storm coming in brought winds from the south, exactly the direction we were heading. I checked Weather Underground and we had 20 mph headwinds with greater gusts for endless miles. At one point a group of 20 cyclists was moving at about 9 mph up a very slight grade. It was crazy. I couldn't hold the wheels of my more powerful friends in the big winds and oozed along by myself for a long time, exhausted and depressed.

My pals had waited for me at the last rest stop. LanceOldStrong made me drink a cup-of-noodles thing, which I'd never had before, but really hit the spot, and we were off. After a bit I found I couldn't hang on and let them go.

I've never been so relieved to get to hills and out of the flats and wind. Once the road turned up I felt a lot better. I caught, and passed, Oldstrong and Spingineer. I took it easy on the downhill until they caught me, where we used our combined bike-light candlepower to really light up the night roads.

The second 100 miles ended up taking 10 hours. LanceOldStrong and I rolled in together 15:58 after we started, with 14:21 of riding time, a few minutes after Spingineer. Still, that's seventeen-point-something mph for the first 104 miles.

When we finished and checked in we grabbed a shower back at the hotel and discovered there is no place to eat in Solvang at 10 pm. We ended up at a Burger King. I haven't had fast food in ages, and now I remember why.



Strava says I have a 673 "suffer score" but Strava doesn't know about the wind. And it say "no achievements" but heck with them. Just finishing and making the time cut was a big deal

Photography child — sight return

I don't have much of an opportunity these days to revisit my photography career. Even though I teach photography, I don't actually shoot very much any more. When  I do shoot it's mostly just bicycle-related snapshots for this blog, or demonstrations for class. So when LanceOldStrong asked if I'd make a photo of his bike for a project he's working on I was thrilled to have an "assignment" again.

This is one of my efforts for that assignment. I tried to evoke some sense of non-specific nostalgia with the picket fence and the out-of-focus lad on the steps. I hope cycling enthusiasts will recognize the La Vie Claire colors of Lemond and Hinault on the jersey. At least that was my plan.

I may be ready for the Solvang Double

I'd somehow let my weight climb to the point that when the year started I'd crept back up to 160 and a bit more. I needed a goal, and I figured signing up for the Solvang Double Century would put the fear of failure into me and motivate me to train and lose some weight. I'm hoping it worked. The ride is a week away now and I think I might be ready. 

• I've got my weight down to 142. That's kind of fun as I now have clothes that didn't used to fit that do now.
• I pretty much gave up beer and zinfandel to loose the weight, which hasn't been easy.
• I've followed Chris Carmichael's "Time Crunched Cyclist" training program as much as I could.
• I've done the intervals with a heart rate monitor and bike commuted my 16 mile round trip every day.
• I've done voodoo nutrition with Hammer supplements for the last two month.
• I bought a new cassette with slightly lower gears (12-30 instead of 11-28.)
• I installed nice new Schwalbe Ultremo tires and fancy latex tubes on my Roval SL 25 wheels.
• I installed a high-end Wipperman chain and put new cleats on my shoes today.

I've done what I can do.  Even with this annoying cold I didn't loose training or gain weight. I'll try a hard ride or trainer session Sunday, then taper for Saturday. My goal isn't to hammer, just to finish feeling reasonably good.

If it works, I'll have enough data to decide if it's wise, or possible, to proceed with my next cycling goal.

Sierra Road

Curtis is toasted at the top of Sierra Road. Photo by Midland.

On Sunday's ride with LanceOldStrong and Midland, we determined that all bicycle ride reports should start with a list of excuses. We are, after all, cyclists. Therefore:
LanceOldStrong — Rode the Death Valley Double last weekend and is still in recovery mode.
MidLand — Had to stop a lot to take a natural
Curtis — Suffering badly from a serious cold and had no business being out at all.

 With all of us in excuse agreement we headed out from the Crank2 bike shop in Pleasanton to ride a "lollipop," (At least that''s what Oldstrong calls an out-and-back with a loop at the end) and introduce me to the stunningly steep Sierra Road.

I'd feared this road. As you can see, it has double digit climbs (see chart below) with no let-up for 3.5 miles. My goal was to get up it alive. Preferably without stopping, but that was optional. I just wanted to get through it.  After a cool but delightful ride up — and down —  Calavaras Road we got to flat San Jose, then turned left into a flippin' wall. Midland and Oldstrong quickly rolled away from me as I tried to contain my heart rate. I was glad I'd just installed a cassette with a lower gear as some sections made me worry I'd just not be able to get the pedals around one more time.

After about 2.5 miles I realized I was doing OK and was going to finish, I thought "What the heck" and just went all out. All out, as in crazy-high heart beat, drooling snot and screaming legs. Amazingly I caught my partners and even passed them for a moment. We finished pretty much together, or as Oldstrong said "A team NorCal podium sweep!" even though there was no one else around to claim victory over. For the record, my time was 40:31, not that I'm keeping track or anything.

My cold pretty much kicked in after that and I was toast for the rest of the ride. Coming down the hill Oldstrong had warned us several times not to miss the turn at "the wall" onto Calavaras. I managed to  anyway, and did something I haven't done in over 20 years. I'm blaming the cold and Sierra Road. I turned slowly, pushing 52x11 and executed the perfect no-speed, Fred-alicous, tip-over idiot maneuver. Sadly, my compatriots were able to observe it as it happened, so I couldn't even make up a heroic tale about saving the life of a child or something.

We rolled back to the car ... the car that I'd safely locked my keys inside of. Fortunately, I am an AAA member, and while we waited ate pizza, AAA arrived and popped the door. All was good again, and Sierra Road is checked off my bucket list.

Fight! Fight!

Good evening ladies and gentlemen! Tonight, the much anticipated match-up between Shimano brothers.

On the left, Ultegra, weighing in at 242 grams with a reach of 11-28 and on the right, it's weightier brother, weighing in a whopping 329 grams and an amazing reach of 12-30 is Tiagra.

In this contest we'll see just how much that 87 gram (3.06883469 ounces for you Americans) matters on a bicycle. Though Tiagra surely weighs more, there's the matter of teeth to take into consideration. That 12 tooth vs 13 tooth high end likely won't matter with a 52 tooth chain wheel, so we'll call that a draw for now. But on the low end, where the real contest will take place, that 30 vs 28 may make all the difference when the hills hit 12 and 15 percent.

Is it better to be low, or light? How much will that 3 ounces matter, or, put another way,  will 24.5 vs 26.25 gear-inches make up for that 3 ounces? Both combatants will be paired with a 52-39-30 support staff and a long-cage derailer in their corners. Settling this contest is why we meet here tonight.

This fight promises to be a rough one, with trash talk even appearing on the Tiagra Box, placed there no doubt by Ultegra fans. Since both lads are looking at double centuries, Tiagra faithful ask "How can Ultegra characterize Tiagra in such a dismissive manner? It's just BS coming from a lighter sibling" Ultegra fans just continued their chant "Fat! Fat! Fat!"



We'll be back right after a word from our sponsors with tonight's featured match, and find out what Sierra Road near San Jose has to say.

North American Handbuilt Bicycle Show 2012

North American Handbuilt Bicycle Show in Sacramento was amazing. We spent the day filled with bicycle lust. I really wanted an eleven-pound $13,000 carbon piece of cycle goodness — Festka — that even came with it's own signed and numbered matching jersey. In the end, I bought a nice chain, a ti wrench for the fixed gear bike, and a bit of bike jewelry for Tricia.

She liked her bracelet, but really fell in love with a sweet steel-frame Cielo and it's matching fenders, complete with all Chris King parts. But we didn't order one.

We did get to meet cycling-clothing goddess Sheila Moon, who I think was amused by our celebrity stalker treatment of her when I asked to shoot a photo of her with Tricia.

Among the goodies we saw:  Bamboo bikes, hardwood bikes, a Brompton semi-formal cycling jacket that I loved, a whiskey flask bike mount, Carbon belt drive (to replace chains) Fat tire bikes with four-inch wide tires and only half a fork. We went to an art bike parade, a gallery featuring bike art, and had dinner with BikeForums.net buddies.

Here are a few photos, more than I usually post, but what the heck.

Chris King lust.

Edible Pedal after event party.

Carbon belt drive. No grease!

Is it wrong that I want this?

Brompton water proof jacket with hidden reflectors.

Super-fat tires, half a fork.

Easy Street

We rode by Easy Street on our "easy tapering ride" that  Lance Oldstrong put together. Except for being 70 miles with three lung-searing climbs, it was pretty relaxing. I only managed to find a new max heart rate a couple of times. I took advantage of the climb next to 580 on Dublin Bl to get a workout — and later on some semi-secret climb Oldstrong found (update: Palomares Hills) — to darn near kill myself. Tricia went along, and we tried to drop her all day, but she just wouldn't stay dropped.

It's impossible tp use an iPhone with fingered gloves on, so all my images are off the bike. The most amusing was this really really expensive time trial bike with a freakin' trailer. He carries ... dogs. I asked him not to go where we were as I wasn't in the mood to be passed by a trailer bike.

Barely bike related: Cuba!

This may be my first non-bike post on this blog, but it's too big a deal to not post it.

I'm taking a study abroad class to Cuba and teaching photography for a week in summer of 2012. And guess what, you can come too! It's through Los Medanos College, so if you'd like to come, all you need to do is apply at LMC, and sign up for the class. You'll have to get your deposit in to the study abroad folks by mid-march too. My Photography in Cuba blog has more info, and a downloadable brochure with deposit info and an itinerary.

You can be sure I'll be posting some Cuban bicycle photos here, and if you come, I'll post yours too!

Stuff I think about when I ride

Sometimes a good ride helps me turn off my brain and just be. Sometimes not. Maybe it's the coffee, but I occasionally find myself in senseless contemplation of ideas and issues such as...

• It feels unfair that no matter how far I ride, it always fits on the screen at the same size in Strava, RideWithGPS or even my Ascent program. Two hundred miles looks just like a ride to the grocery store. That can't be right. Something here needs to be fixed.

• It seems that however hard I work on a climb or interval, coughing up a lung and crying, as soon as I stop, I think "I could have gone just a little harder. I should have gone just a little harder." I keep telling myself I'm going harder than the guys that are home on the couch, but right about then some other cyclist will roll past at looking calm and rested, confirming that indeed I should have worked just a bit more.

• Do Hammer products really work, or do they just make me focus more because I spent so darn much money on them? Mitocaps? Do they do anything? Phytomax? Really Curtis? And does Recoverite really help recovery, or is much-cheaper chocolate milk just as good, as some claim? I don't know, but right now I'm into voodoo and will give anything a shot. Well, maybe not the Dark Rage, or the Size On I saw in the weight lifting section of "The Vitamin Shop." That stuff is just scary. I think. Unless some cyclist tells me it works. I'd try it then. Unless it kills you after it makes you better. Then I'd only try it a little.

• The best thing about drinking wine is not that it tastes so wonderful. It's not even that it's so relaxing. It's that if you wake up not feeling well, a bit sore and grumpy and with an aching body you can think "Hey, I should have skipped that last glass of fine vino." Now that I've cut wine out of my diet (temporally, as a weight loose measure,) when I wake up hurting the only thing I can think of is "Damn, I'm getting old." I miss the wine.

• How much is a gram? How much is an ounce? I'm pretty sure that a lot of either added up makes a lot, which makes a difference. But how about one, or just a few? If I drop 100 grams from my bike, that's more than four ounces, which is a quarter pound, which starts to sound like it might matter. But then again I carry a 16 ounce water bottle (that's the water itself, not even the bottle weight) and sometimes even two of those. Are 180 gram tires worth their delicate nature, or are 225 gram tires really more appropriate for the riding I do? If I have two tubes in the tires and one spare, should I use 49 gram tubes, or are 100 gram tubes smarter even though there's that 150 gram difference slowing me down?  Should I stop carrying a pump and a spare tube? Do I really need bar tape?  How much does a Road ID weigh? Do I need a haircut? Should I trim my nails? Is it wrong to carry a phone? How about a camera? Should I weigh my clothes?

• And cassettes. Oh my.  My 11-28 Ultegra weighs 242 grams, but I'd really like a lower set of gears for an upcoming ride with lots of super-steep hills. There's a Tiagra 12-30 that might be perfect, but it weighs 329 grams. Do I trade lower weight for the lower gear?  It makes me crazy.

• Compression: Is it just more voodoo, or or a legit way to aid recovery? I feel both more silly, and more like a super hero, in my black compression tights and shirt. But do they do anything? Are they tight enough even if compression does work? And do I really work hard enough that I even need this "recovery" everyone speaks so highly of? Tricia asked me "How are those different than the sup-hose the oldsters wear?" and I didn't have an answer. Blacker? Pricier?I'm not sure. Maybe I should get some for her and she'll not ask such questions. Or ask more.

Mt.Hamilton with Tricia and snow

The required mirror photo at the Mt. Hamilton summit.

 We were so very proud of our Mt. Hamilton climb, right up until the couple on fixed-gear bikes rolled in behind us. It was Tricia's first time up, so we made sure to pick a nice cold morning so she could experience the maximum amount of suffering. Even though the sun was out a bit, the shadows were really cold, and there were still small piles of snow near the top.  Even with a cap and long gloves, the ride down was even colder. I tried to do some hard nine-minute efforts on the way up, and we both worked hard on the two uphills that come during the descent trying to warm up, but my biggest heart-rate spike was when a car came within inches of me on the way down.

Tricia, riding behind me, saw them swing out to pass her, then move back into our lane only to run up behind me as another car came in the opposite lane. It ended up as close to me as I've ever had a car come. We followed it on the descent for a mile or two, so clearly it was important that it pass us. It warmed us up, at least.

Other than a near death experience and losing feeling in my fingers, it was a grand day. Tricia is full of HTFU and just rocked the whole thing without even a trace of whimper or whine. I did almost as well. A good time was had by all.

8,653 feet and then it got dark

It's really not all that lonely at the top. In fact, it's rather swell.

I ride with fear. Not terror, but an uneasy worry that I'll run out of energy and just fall over by the side of the road, unable to continue because I've burned all my matches hammering a hill or trying to hang with faster riders.

So when I took advantage of a rare Friday off by spending the day solo on my bike, I went out slow, and stayed slow. Really slow. I'd hoped to do 100 miles with a little climbing. Unfortunately, even though I started at 8:18 A.M., I ran out of daylight shortly before my goal. I did, however, manage 8,653 feet of climbing and 91 miles.

Riding out of Antioch to get anywhere interesting to ride is a pain that involves too many bike paths and a short jaunt down the freeway on Highway 4 next to the Concord Navel Weapon Station. But after that my ride was a lot more fun. Going up Pig Farm I was passed by a young woman with amazing boots. So amazing that when she stopped at the top I stopped too just to photograph them, or Tricia would never have believed my description. I went on to the Three Bears, rolled through Lafayette and out to Danville to catch South Gate Road and then up to the Diablo Junction. From there I had just enough time to get down North Gate Road to the Pleasant Hill BART station as it got dark. My sweet bride picked my tired ol' self up in Bay Point and drove me home.

What's crazy is that my heart rate was low all day, and even though my legs were tired by the time I got to the Diablo Summit, I still felt pretty good. This, for no good reason, got me thinking about the cutoff times for the Devil Mountain Double (eight hours for the first 100 miles, with similar climbing...) and wondering if... no, never mind. It was just a fleeting question.

Net loss, Strava

I hit a giant benchmark today. Though I weigh on my home digital scales, I can't help but think the balance-beam, doctor-style scales in my college locker room are the gold standard.

I usually set the big weight on 150 and slide the other over until it balances. Today, for the first time in forever, I had to start with the large weight on 100. This is big news (or should I say smaller news) for me as I was way  too far over 160 at the start of 2012. My doing without my much-enjoyed evening glass of wine, and forgoing many tasty morsels, seems to be paying off.

I'm still doing intervals. I'm hurting myself several times a week in addition to my 16 mile round-trip commute. That may be helping. I'm starting to think I'll be ready for the Solvang Double Century and I'm even contemplating (I have a notion that I'm working into an idea) doing some others. Feasibility testing will began shortly.

I've also been harassed by my cycling colleagues to sign onto Strava. I was reluctant because it, basically, confirms how slow I am, and then posts it in public so I can be suitably ridiculed (feel free to join in.) I have the free account, but the suffer-fest score feature almost has me ready to sign up for the paid version. Here's today's lunch interval ride using their embedded feature. I may be slow, but my heart rate was high...

Mt Hamiltion. Both sides now.

Being as Lance Oldstrong (AKA Dan) is getting ready for the Death Valley Double and I'm working on being ready for the Solvang Double I suggested a 60 mile bike ride, with a little bit of climbing for Saturday. He countered with "Let's do Mt. Hamilton, then drop down the back and climb back up again."

My Mom used to say things like, "If Lance Oldstrong jumped off a roof, would you jump off a roof?" as a warning to be smart. Of course, being a smart ass, I always answered "Yes."  I did this time too.

We picked a beautiful day. It was cool, but the sun was shining and there were no clouds but for the mist hanging over San Jose.

I was a bit worried about the massive amount of climbing, but we took it easy on the ride up and it wasn't bad at all. Dan pointed out the road was graded at a constant six percent to make it possible for trucks to get building materials to the observatory at the top. I had fun talking to another cyclist about our backside plan. He seemed amazed and kept trying to talk me out of it. Ha!

On the back side of Hamilton the road builders had no grade constraints. It's double digits most of the five miles to the bridge where we turned around. I was glad I'd put on new brake pads, and even then it was a white-knuckle decent.

The ride back to the top was a grunt, but not as tough as I'd feared. We didn't hammer it, but it's still a lot of work. I surprised myself by feeling great when we got to the top. I usually think of a "climbing ride" as ascending 100 feet per mile (as in 30 miles, 3000 feet). At this point we'd done 30 miles and climbed 7100 feet. That's a lot of up.

The descent wasn't as much fun. The top is bumpy with a lot of switchbacks. When we got part way down we were passed by a guy on a beautiful white bike. Dan doesn't like that, and gave chase. I'd not a mad-cornering descender, and I found myself doing wind sprints between the corners trying in vain to hang on, and watching them pull away. It seems wrong that I had my highest heart rates for the day on the flippin' descent, but I did.

After Dan big-ringed him up the last little uphill section they sat up and waited for me. Mr. White-Bike offered a Mexican restaurant suggestion that we ended up taking for out post-ride protein reload session.

All in all, 50 miles, 7501 feet of climbing, and a darn swell day. I learned that I'm in better shape than I thought, and that I can't use my iPhone to make photos while wearing wool glove liners under my cycling gloves.

Garmin readout at our second summit.

No ride is really complete without a Lance Oldstrong song, so here, used without any permission whatsoever, is:

Bows and flows of yellow lines and science castles in the air
And feather canyons everywhere, I've looked at Hammie that way.
But now they only block the sun, those domes that rise above everyone.
So many things I would have done but Hammie got in my way.

I've looked at Hammie from both sides now,
From up and down, and still somehow
It's Hammie’s illusions I recall.
I really don't know Hammie at all.

Moons and Junes and Williams wheels, the dizzy dancing way you feel
As another slow ascent comes real; I’ve looked at Hammie that way.
But now it's just another ride. you leave 'em laughing as you glide.
And if you crack, don't let them know, don't give yourself away.

I've looked at Hammie from both sides now,
From give and take, and still somehow
It's Hammie's illusions I recall.
I really don't know Hammie at all.

Tears and fears and feeling proud to say "Climb Hammie twice" right out loud,
Dreams and schemes and Alpe d'Huez crowds, I’ve looked at Hammie that way.
But now old friends are acting strange,

They shake their heads, they say I've changed.
Something's lost but something's gained in riding every day.

I've looked at Hammie from both sides now,
From win and lose, and still somehow
It's Hammie's illusions I recall.
I really don't know Hammie at all.