Scenic Route

I’m still not any closer to fixing the gallery and posting pics from Canada and Colorado. Nor am I any closer to writing up the ride reports. It’s still pretty busy around there.

But I took some time this morning to freshen the look here, rearranging and updating things in the sidebar, and adding an image rotator of selected shots of my ugly mug.

Part of the goal was to highlight a change at BikeJournal, where members now have a blog option. I’m using it.

Here’s the link to my BikeJournal blog.

I’m not sure how I’m going to use two blogs, especially when there’s no easy way to integrate content between the two. Although, maybe that’s a good thing. Too early to tell.

Dodged a bullet

Riding the Portland on the way to the weekly Wednesday RBC ride starting in Mendon Ponds Park, my rear dérailleur (RD) overshifted on a climb, and dumped the chain off between the spokes and the cassette. This can be very bad. A similar thing happened to Howard in Colorado (who helped me on the Mt. Evans climb) Saturday, and it destroyed his frame and RD.

I was luckier. I broke two spokes, damaged at least five more (there are only 12 on that side of the wheel) and ruined the chain. Fortunately, I have that second wheelset, and I had a new chain in-stock at home, and while I was at it, I re-cabled the RD before adjusting it. Then I had Steve at Full Moon Vista double-check my work. I don’t think the bike has ever shifted as nice as it does now.

I can’t say what caused Howard’s problem, but there were two things working in concert to cause mine. It’s the third time this has happened, and it finally occurred to me that the L screw might not be properly adjusted. It sets the limit of RD travel towards the spokes. Duh!

Second, that loop of cable housing back at the RD gets worn pretty easily. When that happens, the major symptom is sluggish shifting in both directions, despite making adjustments with the barrel adjuster on the RD. (It starts as being able to get good shifting in one direction only.) This has been happening since I got back from Colorado. I simply deferred maintenance and lived with it. Sort of like the “Can’t fix the roof when it’s raining, and don’t have to when it’s not” school of building maintenance.

I’d have been in real trouble if the Portland’s RD had snagged in the spokes like Howard’s did. Although, being aluminum instead of carbon fiber, the Portland’s frame may have fared better than Howard’s Scattante CFR Elite did. I’m glad I didn’t have to find out. I’m not in a position where I can afford a new RD, let alone a new frame.

And I’m certainly not going to defer that maintenance again. Which reminds me, Yellow Bike could use the same work… There. I’ve gotten the parts out to remind me to replace Yellow Bike’s RD cable too.

Parts is parts

In any event, I’m trying something new. When I last stocked the spare parts bin—when all my spares had been stolen along with the Giant—I got Teflon-coated cables to see if they really work smoother than regular stainless-steel ones. I had also gotten a grease injector needle a while back. Ordinarily, one dribbles chain lube through the cable housing before installing it. I injected it full of Pedro’s Syngrease synthetic grease. Boy that RD works smooth now.

Back when I had the Giant and was first buying parts to rebuild Yellow Bike, I bough some chains for them from Nashbar. Cheap was the reason. Eight-speed chains were $20 at the bike shop, and just $6 at Nashbar, or even free when you buy one of their 8-speed cassettes.

I found the chains to be every bit as good as the big names. When I had to buy a spare for the Portland, I figured I’d try a Nashbar. At not quite $30 on sale, their 10-speed chains aren’t quite the bargain as their 8-speed ones, but they’re still cheaper than Shimano 105 chains.

I’d tried a Shimano Ultegra chain in there too, but found it to be noisier than the 105 and there was no noticeable improvement in shifting. (In fact, it was the Ultegra chain I trashed back in May when it overshifted and dropped between the cassette and the spokes.)

Well, this Nashbar 10-speed chain, besides having nice, shiny, nickel-plated outer links, is both smoother-shifting and quieter than either Shimano’s 105 or Ultegra 10-speed chains. It’s early days, of course—I have less than 100 miles on it—but I think it’s a keeper. I like it well enough that I’ll restock the spare parts bin with another one.

Goal report

At the end of August, I have 3,761 miles for the year.

I’m 311 miles ahead of target for the year-to-date, and 989 miles from my goal for the whole year at 4,750. Not only am I going to hit that, I stand a real good chance of hitting the 5,200 mile challenge goal, which is just 1,439 miles away. Considering I was just 50 miles shy of that many in July and August combined, I’m feeling pretty confident about the challenge goal.

Breaking it out by bike, 3,168 miles have rolled under the Portland’s wheels, and Yellow Bike has racked up 593, or 15.77% of the total.

I’m presently ranked 725 of 7,502 riders at BikeJournal putting me at 9.66%, within my goal of the top 10%. and the top 1,000. I rank 15 out of all 201 riders in New York State, and 9 out of 38 NY State men in the 50-59 age bracket.

Finally, I have my first 10,000 miles behind me, with 10,907 since I began logging on Bike Journal in May 2006.

My anniversary with the Portland is coming up in three weeks. So far, we have 4,262 miles together. That’s kinda interesting, since that’s 87 miles a week on average. Add in another 15% on Yellow Bike, and you’re at 5,200 for a year.

No matter. the big thing is that I’m still smitten with the Portland, especially now that it’s shifting perfectly again.

Many people have asked me to ride the Highlander Tour this autumn, especially after having earned my chops on Mt. Evans a few weeks ago. Unfortunately, that trip used all my vacation time and I can’t afford the time off.

This is where you come in. As your paid rider, I’ll gladly wear your colors before, during and after the Highlander, until the snow flies. Size medium shorts, large (race-cut) jersey, large socks, gloves, and helmet.

I’ll also require a Ti or CF wonderbike with nice, ultralight wheels and Ultegra triple. And maybe a set of Kreitler Rollers with the Killer Kool Headwind Fan and a Kurt Kinetic Rock & Roll or Pro Trainer.

Hell, for all that, I’ll wear your colors all winter too, okay? Just throw in the matching tights and warmers.

Email your offer to

Yours,
B

My week away in Colorado was just too huge to write about in anything blog-length. Trying to sort it out chronologically is tempting, but I think a thematic method will be better.

I’ve already written about the Mt. Evans climb. Other topics deserving of their own entries are the train trip on Amtrak, The Epic Century, and the BikeJournal Reunion rides and events. Today, I’ll try to hit everything else to get it out of the way.

I bracketed the week with metric centuries ridden on the bike paths of Denver. I decided I was less likely to get lost that way, and more likely to see neat stuff if I wasn’t focused on staying alive in traffic.

Wow! The differences in their bike paths and what we have is huge. First, their paths seem to connect destinations. If you want to go to Parker, use the Cherry Creek Trail. Golden? Use the Clear Creek or Ralston Creek trails. Thornton? North on the Platte River Greenway. I rode to all these places and more.

All sorts of riders use the trails. On my last day, I was headed into downtown Denver at rush hour on the Platte River Greenway. Outbound, the lane was filled with commuters. It wasn’t quite wheel-to-wheel, and bar-to-bar commuters, but compared to here, it sure seemed so. And they were on all sorts of bikes—dumpster specials to carbon wonderbikes—and all with a backpack, or panniers.

On my first day, I came upon a guy sitting with is feet in the Clear Creek. I was on one of my “vague notion” rides and asked where I was going. Turns out I was headed for Golden again. I decided I wanted to do something different and asked if I could ride with him a while.

Ed is a retiree. He bought his bike in May and since then has been putting 30-40 mile rides on it two or three times a week. He rides a loop that begins and ends in Lakewood. We had a conversation as long and winding as our route. A long while later he left me at the Subway on 31st St at the corner of the bike path, with some suggestions for things to see and places to go.

Fast forward to my last day again, and riding downtown from Parker, I rode up on a girl and engaged her in conversation. Jean had just moved to Denver from Boston. She and her wife were still settling in to their new apartment and she hadn’t yet begun job hunting.

Car-free for several years, Jean was ecstatic that their new apartment was just yards from the bike path. She was exploring it for the first time and was delighted that the Cherry Creek trail went right to the Cherry Creek mall, down past the library and all the way into downtown Denver.

What impressed us both was that closer to downtown, there were separate trails for bikes and peds. Keeping us separate from them was an entirely new experience. And a pleasant one. On my first attempt at navigating through Confluence Park, I wound up on the peds-only path instead of the bike path, and was treated with scorn until I stopped a dog walker and explained my predicament. She set me straight and in short order I was on the bikes-only path.

Confluence Park is in the heart of downtown Denver, where Cherry Creek (and the bike path of the same name) flows into the Platte River (and the Greenway of the same name.) Creeks and rivers have a different definition than they do here, back east. You can walk across the Platte River in Denver, and many people do. It was a hot, hot day and the river and creek were filled with people getting wet.

Nearby is the main REI store, which had more bike racks outside than I’ve seen anywhere else in America. And most of the spots were filled. I rode through the neighborhood on the west side and was delighted to find a ride-up ATM (used it twice during my stay), an apartment building that had bikes on every balcony, and two bike bridges—one with a corkscrew ramp up to it.

Crossing back to the east side, the baseball stadium is right there off the bike path. On my last day, I ended up being swept away with riders going to the ballgame. Riding bikes to a ballgame? Unheard of back east.

Extricating myself from that, I found myself lost in the streets of downtown Denver where new pleasures awaited. Fixie kids gathered and disbursed like flocks of birds. I learned that pedicab drivers are really good sprinters, and you can catch a helluva draft off a pedicab.

It was the tail end of rush hour and bikes were everywhere. There were still many locked in front of office buildings. Riders were in the streets, on the sidewalks and in the 16th St Mall, which is signed for buses and pedicabs only. Apparently the no-bikes rule isn’t really enforced.

By this time I’d already dropped off my bike at Amtrak, but I could have ridden to Dixon’s at 16th and Wazee, and parked my bike at my table while I had dinner.

This is what I mean by bike-friendly destinations like Dixon’s, REI and Coors Stadium. Bike paths and bike lanes are all very nice, but unless I can park my bike at my destination, there’s no point in bike paths or bike lanes, from a transportation standpoint.

Denver’s bike paths, successfully mix destination-based transportational cycling with “lets go for a bike ride” recreational cycling. The bike paths all go someplace and connect malls, stores, services and events, but along the way they have fun too. In R-Town, they’d never think to put some curves in just for fun. In Denver, they’re all over the place. Finding a straight section of path is the exception, not the rule as it is here.

I was less impressed with Loveland from a car-free standpoint. I didn’t get downtown, but in the suburban sprawl along Eisenhower Blvd, destinations are too spread out for me. It was miles from the hotel to any restaurant, and those were fast-food joints. Strip malls and plazas were no different from those anywhere else. Not bike-friendly at all. I don’t recall seeing a single bike rack.

But in Loveland as with everywhere else I rode in Colorado, drivers treat cyclists with respect, courtesy and equality. It’s probably because bikes are everywhere. You can’t swing the proverbial cat without hitting a cyclist. As a result, drivers and cyclists know what to expect from each other and live within those expectations. It’s ho-hum boring.

I’m of mixed feelings on bike lanes, but I’ll admit it was really nice having my space marked out of the road. Even if many times it was what we call the shoulder back here. Sometimes they take a shoulder, paint a bike on it every 500 feet and call it a bike lane.

Fort Collins was better. There are for-real bike lanes there. I was a real fish out of water in Fort Collins. I’m used to waiting and waiting at uncontrolled intersections. In Fort Collins, cars would stop and wave bikes across. This was far too confusing for me. I went with the flow, but it felt really unnatural. I’d like to get used to it though.

In the early morning, the heat of the afternoon or after dark, there wasn’t any time of day when I didn’t see other cyclists about, and plenty of ‘em. Some of our rides took us on fairly deserted roads, and there were always cyclists coming in the other direction. Occasionally, our rides would be passed by other cyclists. We’d pass some too. Cyclists are freakin’ everywhere!

We weren’t the only ones playing in the mountains either. Climbing up South St. Vrain Canyon, every couple of minutes I’d hear a freewheel buzzing, then a cyclist would appear hurtling around a corner on his descent. And they’d wave, knowing what I was going through and that my reward would be the same as they were experiencing.

The roads themselves are in much better shape than around here. Yeah, the shoulders aren’t swept quite as well, but the pavement is, as the Hypoxians say, sublime.

I could go on and on, but I think you get the picture. The Front Range may not be cycling nirvana, but it’s sure is real nice.

Among the other souvenirs, I brought home from Colorado a wicked summer cold. Summer colds are always more annoying than than in other seasons, but this one is the worst cold I’ve had in years.

It kept me home all day yesterday when I really wanted to be at the Rochester Road Race, which was day three of the Rochester Omnium. Sorry, no road race for me. I slept all day.

To give you an idea of how badly this cold is affecting me, I just returned from a quick trip to Full Moon Vista. The rear tire on the Portland cracked open last Thursday. They were closed for the race weekend so it was the first chance I had to get a new one.

When I arrived home, and went to take off my helmet, there it was, still on the hook. I rode all the way there and back with no helmet. I’m by no means a helmet nazi, but they have saved my head twice, so I wear it. Except, apparently, for when a cold muddies my brain completely. It has me wondering what else I did on that ride.

On both of my recent cycling vacations, I employed the “vague notion” of travel.

I’d set out with only a vague notion of where I wanted to go, or what distance I wanted to travel, or what I’d like to see. Then with a vague notion, I’d set off and let opportunity be my guide.

In Canada, one such trip began with a look at our 50 and 60-year-old topographic maps. The vague notion lead me on a 50-mile off-road ride that was the most enjoyable I’ve had there. I stopped twice to ask where I was, and where I was going.

I found that asking strangers turned into great conversations about the area and cycling. The people I talked with thought it was some kind of epic adventure that I’d set out on, even though I was riding roads they travel all the time.

In Denver, I set out twice armed only with a fuzzy black-and-white print of this Denver Bike Path Map. In fact, in Denver I made a conscious decision to not upgrade to the large, fold-out map available at BikeDenver or the LBSs.

One day I set out to explore the west side and ended up riding to downtown Denver with Ed, a retiree who rides 30 or 40 miles every couple of days. Wonderful conversations and a great ride.

Another day I set out to explore the east side and ended up riding to downtown Denver with Jean, a social worker who’d just moved from Boston to Denver with her wife. She was exploring Denver for the first time too.

I found the vague notion also works well on foot. In Chicago I had a few hours to kill between trains. On the first time through I asked an Amtrak employee what I could see in a couple of hours on foot without getting lost. He sent me to the Sears Tower, two blocks away over the river.

The second time through, all I knew was that I wanted dinner at a sit-down place where salad and vegetables came with the meal. The guy at Starbucks sent me two blocks away to Blackies, on Monroe, right on the river. Good meal, great views.

A similar request of the baggage guy at Amtrak’s Denver Union Station got me a seat on the sidewalk at Dixon’s, 16th and Wazee in Denver. I had a great meal and was entertained the whole while as Denver’s evening urban culture unfolded around me.

Getting lost is a nice adjunct to vague notion travel. Again in Denver, I navigated my way to the wrong side of the tracks from Union Station. Just ride around the block was the solution that entered my head.

Well that side turned out to be a very long block, that dumped me into a busy street filled with cars trying to get the Colorado Rockies baseball game. It was great to be in urban traffic again after a week in the Rockies. I rode around getting even further lost, just for the fun of it. Then, needing to get the bike to the baggage check before the train, I rode up to a cop, explained my predicament and asked directions.

“On a bike,” he told me, “cut through there, then turn right, go to the end and make a left. You’ll see it from there.” Now I know a shortcut that only locals know.

I’ve really liked my experiments with vague notion travel and will be employing it on future trips, and maybe on some closer to home too.

Here’s a rough draft of my submission to the Rochester Bicycling Club’s August Newsletter.

RBC Member Rides to Top of Highest Paved Road in North America

By Bruce Wilbur

On Wednesday morning, July 30, 2008, I wore my RBC jersey to the top of the highest paved road in North America, at the summit of Mt. Evans, just west of Denver, Colorado. The mountain’s summit is 14,260 feet, but the road ends in a parking lot at 14,130 feet.

How I Trained

I started training in May. Jokes about plastic bags or using snorkels aside, there’s really no way to train for that kind of altitude around here. There were three things I targeted and trained for:

1. Hills. Most of my regular riding is flat. I had to seek out elevation.
2. Endurance. Most of my riding is commuting in stop-and-go traffic. I had to get some rural, non-stop riding in.
3. Anaerobic threshold. I had to really work the old lungs hoping to stretch their limits.

Hills

My usual riding is around the city, where it’s pretty flat. In town, I did hill repeats on Cobbs Hill, Rich’s Dugway and Browncroft Blvd, all of which have a similar grade to Mt. Evans. Mt. Evans is not steep, but it is long. I had to get out of town for longer climbs.

The RBC mapset was indispensable for this. My favorites became #74, Avon-Geneseo-Dansville, where I did the Jaslow’s Jaunt “dotted-line” extension, and a variation of #78, Canadaigua Cup Race (I substituted Rt 254 and Rt 364 on the east side of the lake) where Miller’s Hill and Rt 364 were both nice, long grades.

Endurance

When I couldn’t get a ride to an out-of-town course, I rode from home to several of the rides in Bloomfield, Honeoye, Honeoye Falls, Mendon, Ionia, Lima, and Rush, southeast of the city. These rides included longer stretches without turns or stops along with some hills.

Anaerobic Threshold

I bought a cyclometer with a Heart Rate Monitor (HRM). First I found my maximum heart rate. This is very individual, but several of the formulae get to a reasonably close starting point. It’s experimentation from there. (And my doctor’s guidance helped too.) My maximum heart rate is in the upper 170s.

From there, I worked out where my anaerobic threshold was—the point where muscle work is greater than the body’s ability to supply oxygen. For me, that’s in the mid 160s.

Then I rode at the threshold, hoping to boost it. I wasn’t really successful at that, but soon I was able to ride further and further at the max. I used this as a substitute for altitude training.

Acclimatization

I took the train to Denver. This gave me a couple of days of gradual boost to the Mile-High City. I overnighted in Denver, then rode a nice little metric on the Denver bike paths (which are wonderful and plentiful), keeping to a nice, easy recovery pace in the 120s. Then I overnighted in Denver again. All the while I worked on hydration and made sure my meals included plenty of those things known for helping build healthy blood.

The Bike

I took the same bike I use for commuting and errands around town, my beloved 2006 Trek Portland. Sold as a fast commuter, the Portland is part cyclocross racer, part touring bike, has a 52/39/30 triple and Avid’s BB7 road disk brakes. It’s a middleweight at 23 pounds, before rack, fenders, lights and whatever gear I carry. It’s the bike I ride daily, the bike I trained on, the bike I ride centuries on, and the bike I took for 367 miles of riding the Rockies.

The only thing I changed for this climb was the gearing. Around town I ride a 12-23 ten-speed cassette. For hilly riding I typically use a 12-27. On Mt. Evans I used a 16-27 because it gave me lots more choice in the low end. I had exactly the right gear for every variation in grade, making it easier to manage heart rate and cadence.

My ride partners on this ride used their favorite bikes—one a full carbon Scattante (PerformanceBikes.com) and the other a titanium and carbon fiber LeMond. Both used 50/34 compact doubles with 12-27 cassettes.

The Ride

I rode with a local and Pennsylvanian who is a frequent visitor to Colorado. We drove to the entrance at Echo Lake, at about 10,000 feet, (the altitude where pilots need oxygen masks) unloaded our bikes and rode the 14½ miles to the top from there.

From my training at home, I knew I could spin the 6%-7% average grade at around 80 RPM cadence, translating to around 7 MPH. So I planned for two hours ride time, interspersed with a hour of resting. I’d guessed that would mean riding two miles, resting, then the next two miles.

On the mountain in the thin air, that turned into riding one mile, taking a short breather, then riding to the next milepost.

My strategy also included keeping my heart rate below my anaerobic threshold. I kept under 160 on the climb itself. I monitored my recovery at the stops, and began the next mile when my heart rate dropped to 90 or so, usually after two or three minutes. These pauses meant I could also really take in some of the spectacular views along the way and bring back lots of photos.

On the climb, car traffic was amazing. People drove by, giving us plenty of clearance, mouths agape as they looked at us riding our bikes up the mountain that their cars were straining to climb. One boy, around 10 or 12, rolled down the window and gave us a thumbs-up as he went by.

At the Top

Two hours and six minutes of ride time later, I reached the top, posed for the pic in my jersey, parked my bike in the bike rack (Yes, there’s a bike rack on the top of the mountain!) then put on my jacket and walked (in my cleats) to the summit at 14,260 feet.

If the altitude isn’t breathtaking, the views down on neighboring mountains certainly are.

We were instant celebrities among the other sixty or so people enjoying the summit at the time. Interestingly, GM was altitude testing four future model sports cars at the time. They kept putting them under tarps when they parked. They didn’t need to since people ignored them, wanting to talk to the silly old idiots on bicycles instead. We couldn’t leave until everyone asked us how we did it and took our pictures.

The Descent

Coming down off the mountain wasn’t the ride I thought it would be. The road has no shoulders or guardrails. Just inches off the edge of the pavement, well, watch that first step. The winds were gusty and their direction unpredictable. Plus, the pavement itself isn’t in good shape. There are wide cracks and potholes caused by marmots (sort of like our woodchucks) burrowing under the road.

As a result, I hugged the double-yellow and rode the brakes a lot. (Thank heavens for my Trek Portland’s road disk brakes!) My typical speed coming down was about 20 MPH, although nearer the bottom I felt safe in letting it out a little to 38. Still it’s nothing near my record for a descent.

The Afterglow

I’m proud to have worn the RBC jersey, marking me as both a lowlander and flatlander, on my ride to the top of the highest paved road in North America.

My eyes still well up whenever I think about doing something most people will only ever read about (or drive their car to). That, and a century called “The Epic Century” through the mountains later in that week, have shown me that with the right training and support, I can ride my bike anywhere I point its wheel.

The only trouble is, how do I top this?

---

And now, the rest of the story…

The submission is necessarily slanted towards RBC interests, and doesn’t mention Howard and Z-man by name. They’re not members.

Z-man gets cred for suggesting this silliness in the first place. Howard was there every pedal stroke of the way, making sure I didn’t topple over of hypoxia. They were as important to my effort as everything else in the piece for the club.

Also not a member, but instrumental to my success was hndlebar, who helped pick out-of-town training routes, gave me rides to them, and rode with me on them, all the while providing encouragement.

And, truth be told, I wore three jerseys on the climb. Partly because they each show one of my affiliations, and partly because it got so cold.

Howard was a real sport about waiting through my wardrobe changes and taking multiple photos at each photo op.

Here I am at the start at Echo Lake in my BikeJournal jersey.

And at Summit Lake (which is only halfway up) in my BikeForums.net 50+ jersey.

Here we all are at the start, Howard, brucew, and Z-man. (Pic stolen from Howard)

And again at the top, Z-man, brucew, and Howard

More pics will be linked here when they become available in the gallery.

Part II(a)

Today I rode The Epic Century. I started out feeling weak, tired and sore. I rode anyway. I had to SAG twice, for five or six miles each time. And I didn’t do the 15-mile loop at the end to round out the century. But I felt pretty good about my effort and brief moments of disappointment were completely overwhelmed by periods of leaking eyes when I let myself think about it, that after working and training for months, I was actually doing this ride that everyone else would only read about.

The scenery, as advertised, was magnificent. Cyclists, of course, will understand why there are no photos of the descent. When I get home and go through them, pics from the whole week will be posted.

Part II(b)

Tonight at the dinner, prizes were awarded, I got two—One for longest distance traveled to attend, and the second was the “I Did It!” award for The Epic Century. Ride leaders for each ride awarded an “I Did It!” award to the person who they felt best pushed there personal envelope the furthest.

Deadhead, the ride leader for the Epic, said he’d followed my training, and doubts here, on BikeJournal, and right up to the starting line this morning, and felt that the work I put into this ride deserved the award, even if I logged only 79.59 miles. Judging by the applause of everyone at the dinner, most folks agreed (or at least were polite).

Tomorrow (Sunday) morning is the last of the event rides. Breakfast is at 7 (MT) and we roll out at 8. Off to bed.

This morning, Howard, Z-Man and I climbed Mt. Evans. Fourteen-thousand, two-hundred and some odd feet.

It went right according to plan. Two hours ride time, an hour for rests, making three hours total time.

There will be pics. Lost of them. Just not now. In a half-hour Howard picks me up an is taking me to ride with the Northern Hypoxians on their regular Wednesday night ride. I’ve been promised no hill repeats.

The bike club dropped off the bike case tonight and I just finished packing the Portland. I’ll commute on Yellow Bike these next two days, then it’s off to Chicago on the Saturday night train, and after a four-hour layover, the Sunday afternoon train to Denver.

I had anticipated difficulty with packing the bike. I wanted to start early so I’d have plenty of time to solve problems or cry for help. I was pleasantly surprised to find it went so easily. (If I ever find the gorilla that put my pedals on… Oops, that was me.)

The frame itself barely fit. With a 103” wheelbase, the Portland is a longish bike. The disk brake caliper on the fork and the RD had to be wiggled in. And I had to finesse the wheels due to the disc brake rotors. I’m glad I bought (and packed) the Park Tool Rotor Bender tool (or whatever they call it) since the rotors will likely warp a little inside case.

Beyond that, wow! There’s all kinds of space to pack stuff in there. In addition to my rack, the Portland’s stock fenderettes (although I know now that my full fenders would have fit), and my lights, chargers, helmet, trunk bag, extra tubes, pump, bottles, Accelerade, tools, chamois butter, and room for my shoes too after Saturday’s commute.

With all the bike stuff packed in the bike case, I’m not sure I’ll need two carry-ons.

Now I’ll just need a winch to get it down the fire escape…

I’m resting up a bit this week having returned from Canada on Monday night, and leaving for Colorado on Saturday night.

Or rather, I should be resting up.

I arrived home in time last night to make the Monday Night Small Ring Ride at Full Moon Vista Bike & Sport. Shana decided we’d ride the “finishing loop” for the upcoming Rochester Road Race, part of the Rochester Omnium. We followed up with a couple of loops of the Criterium course. Of course, since neither course was closed, we rode them recreationally.

The Road Race course is finally public. The whole thing is a nice ride. What I haven’t ridden already, I’ve ridden on nearby roads. The first 89 miles of the 101-mile course dumps into Genesee Valley Park at the East River Road entrance.

Then it takes two laps of the “finishing loop” up through the park, across the University of Rochester River Campus, around Mt. Hope Cemetery, through Highland Park and out Goodman St to Elmwood, then Kendrick back to East River.

These are all roads familiar to TNUA riders, and I ride them year ‘round. It’s really hard to say where the best spectator spots will be. There are just too many to choose from.

I followed that up with a fast commute on Yellow Bike today. Set a new personal best by exceeding 17 MPH average bot ways. It’s fairly common for me in the morning, but I’m slower coming home. Given the stops and starts, and getting stuck behind pokey cars on Park Ave, it was a real accomplishment.

Bicycling says I’m cool

I’m a trend setter. It’s true. Bicycling magazine says so in the September issue, which arrived today. Page 68 has an article on mixing dirt with your road (bike) rides. They call them “blends”.

That’s exactly how I spent last week. I took the Portland to my family’s place in Ontario for a week of cycling. I took both wheelsets—one with my road tires and 12-23 cassette, the other with my cyclocross tires and 12-27 cassette.

Every ride but one started at the cabin, 4½ miles from the nearest pavement. Mostly, I used pavement just to connect dirt roads. It was the most fun I’ve had on a bike in a good long time. There’s something about keeping out of the gravel, avoiding chuckholes and bald spots in the Great Canadian Shield, and flying over washouts that, um, focuses your concentration to a pinpoint.

It takes a whole different set of skills to ride like that. I learned them riding the TNUA, and used them all last week.

Eeek! Paging through the article just now, There’s a sidebar, titled Do It All. “Riding on dirt can be rough on your road bike—and your body. If you plan to blend your rides regularly, consider buying gear that can take you anywhere.”

It features the Trek Portland, all-conditions high-speed commuter and my preferred ride. Says Bicycling, “The Portland also works well for blends. For added stability it features a longer top tube, a taller head tube and a slacker head angle than Trek’s cyclocross bikes, as well as disc brakes for enhanced stopping power.”

They screw it up by suggesting some Specialized tires for it. Last week, I quickly became a fan of my Bontrager Jones CXR cyclocross racing tires. The little baby knobbies are just enough to hold gravel in place as I roll over it. It’s when the gravel moves out from under your wheels that you lose speed and stability. They worked well in the mud, loose sand and on the pavement too.

Lets see if I can put one of my rides into Bicycling’s format.

WESTPORT, ONTARIO, CANADA

BRUCE WILBUR, all-conditions cyclist: Here’s a nice 50-miler that’s over half dirt roads. The climbs are challenging, the descents exhilarating and the biting flies will have you screaming for your mommy in the first 20 miles.

Length: 50.25 miles, with 4,025 feet of climbing.

START: At the Wilbur’s cottage on Wolfe Lake, Zimmerman Lane then left on Lee Road.

Left on Westport Road in Fermoy, pavement begins. Descend to Wolfe Lake, through the twisties then towards town.

Right on Devil Lake Road in Salem, dirt resumes.

Left on Canoe Lake Road, still dirt.

Straight through Snug Harbour on a nice descent to the bridge, pavement begins.

Right on Desert Lake Road.

Right on Highway 38, to Godfrey.

Right on Westport Road.

Left on Burridge Road, dirt resumes.

Right on McNeil Road, careful of the washouts on the descents!

Left on Lee Road

END: Right on Zimmerman Lane, back to camp

And boy, did we get dirty. I still have to strip down and clean the Portland. It’s encrusted with mud, which explains, in part, why I took Yellow Bike to work today.

We did take one pavement-only ride. On Saturday I put on the road wheels and my dad took me in the boat to the “Bike Launch Ramp” at the end of the lake.

It was a nice 50-miler up towards Perth, but turning at Narrows Lock Road, where I spent an hour watching the hand-operated lock and swing bridge between Little and Big Rideau Lakes. Then it was down to Crosby, right on Hwy 42 back thorough Newboro (where I had my first flat of the year) and Westport, and Westport Road back to the Bike Launch Ramp where I waited for my ferry.

I turned in a respectable 3:05 for a 16.21 MPH average on 50.05 miles.

Pics forthcoming.

By the numbers

I put on nearly 200 miles during the week. With a third of the month left to go, on Sunday I blew through my July goal of 550 miles. On Saturday I passed 10,000 miles since I got my first cyclometer in May 2006, and before I leave for Colorado, I’ll clear 3,000 miles on the year-to-date.

As of 11:36 PM ET I’m ranked 794 of 7,101 riders at BikeJournal, closing in on my goal of being in the top 10%.

I’m 150 miles away from the Portland becoming my most-ridden bike. It took me well over a year to put 3,778 miles on my Giant hybrid, when it was my only bike. I’ll do it in just 10 months on the Portland, and that’s with 15% of my rides on Yellow Bike in those same 10 months.

Although my road tires (Bontrager Race Lite Hardcase) for the Portland now have the most miles (2,863.4) of all my tires. I had the first puncture on them on Saturday afternoon in Newboro—bottle glass in the rear. Interestingly, Yellow Bike arrived home tonight with a staple sticking out of the sidewall of its rear Ultra Gatorskin. I plucked it out and it’s still holding 100 PSI.