Nifty Ten Fifty - April 4

A few years ago now, former Clif Bar marketing guru, Paul McKenzie, concocted the formula for a bike ride that would haunt hardcore cyclists for the rest of eternity. He called it the Nifty Ten Fifty. This is a route that comprises 54 miles and 10,000 feet of climbing in ten punishing ascents that criss-cross the East Bay hills.

Each year the McPaulster has sent an email encouraging me and others to join the ride, and commonsense has always prevailed. I don't quite know what happened this year, but I decided I'd take up his challenge. Looking back, I wish I'd studied the route map more carefully beforehand, it really was alarming!

10,000 feet of climbing in 54 miles. Think about it, that would be almost 2,000 feet every 10 miles on average, right? Actually it's worse than that. Since half of the ride is descending, think 2,000 feet of climbing every five miles. Here's a comparison: Mt Diablo, a highly respected climb among cyclists in the East Bay area, gains about 3,000 feet of elevation in about nine miles if you take the steeper North Gate Road. So the Nifty Ten Fifty is considerably more demanding than riding Mt Diablo... several times over.

The average gradient of the climbs in the Nifty Ten Fifty is about 15%. That's almost twice as steep as the notorious Alpe d'Huez climb in the Tour de France.

If you're starting to think this ride is bordering on insanity, you'd be among the majority of cyclists. The Nifty Ten Fifty is for the extreme few who've ridden or raced through numerous challenges and are looking for something that's so hard the best part is reaching the end.

A group of eight assembled at the start, and this year we didn't reach the end. A violent weather front coming in gave us the perfect out. With strong winds whipping at our spokes on the steep descents, and driving rain numbing our fingers, we decided it was getting dangerous and curtailed the ride at the half-way point. I never thought I'd be so grateful for foul weather!

We'd climbed 5,000 feet in 25 miles. My legs felt like jelly, and would still be feeling a little creaky three days later. Yet somehow the memory of it is exhilarating. Will I do this ride again? How I wish I could say No with some certainty.

A New Breed of Cycling Champ?

The significance of Cadel Evans's world championship victory has many aspects, but one that has been overlooked by most commentators is arguably the most significant: the people who are changing the culture and traditions of the old European cycling model.

There are two parts to this: the geography; and the cycling history. Looking at the geographical part, Evans' win is evidence that the sport is slowly becoming more global. By this I mean that the tight clique of nations in western Continental Europe are slowly loosening their grip. This might seem to some like a voluntary action, but I don't think so. It is no secret that for several decades, many continental Europeans have held onto the opinion that the anglo nations (Australia, Canada, Ireland, New Zealand, South Africa, United Kingdom, United States, etc.) don't really understand the essence of bicycle road racing.

There is some historical justification for this view. Looking at the world championship results back to 1927, we see that the first time an anglo rider to win a world championship was the Briton, Tom Simpson, in 1965. This was, in fact, only the second time a rider from outside the clique (France, Italy, Switzerland, Belgium, Netherlands) had won a road world's. So even though the prejudice seems mistaken now, you can see how it might have been formed.

Germans, Muller and Altig won in 1952 and '66, but the next time a non-clique nation won it was Greg Lemond in 1983 and again in '89. Lemond was really the start of the revolution, because he won several Tours de France as well, and showed the world that angl0 nations can understand cycling well enough to win its greatest prizes (some in the clique still wouldn't admit this - and at the time pointed to the fact that Lemond had a French-sounding name!). In 1987 Stephen Roche of Ireland claimed the rainbow jersey (in the same year he won the Tour de France and Giro d'Italia), and his compatriot Sean Kelly deserves credit too, because he was the most successful one-day racer of this era and it was paradoxical that he never won a road world's title. He was that good, and even the die-hards in Europe grudgingly admitted that Kelly was unbeatable in one-day competition.

During the 1980s we began to see a lot of English speakers on the top step of the podium. Fast forward again four years to 1993, when a young Lance Armstrong took the title, and it really was starting to look as though a new order was being established in road cycling.

Next we saw the emergence of Spain as a major force in international cycling, as Abraham Olano took the first rainbow jersey for his nation in 1994, beginning a decade when Spain would win five of the ten world's titles.

Romans Vaintsteins won it for Latvia in 2000, which further rocked the tradition, but toward the end of the first decade in the new millenium the old guard reasserted itself with Boonen winning for Belgium in 2005, followed by three Italian wins.

So bringing the conversation back to Evans: he brought to three the number of Anglo nations who have won a world championship; he was the first Australian to win the title. Evans' brilliantly tactical victory at Mendrisio in September 2009 made the statement that not only in the past 30 years have the clique nations had to share the rainbow jersey, but they've shared it with English speakers from several different nations.

The next part is briefer, but it is no less significant .... and again it's to do with exploding snobbish myths and traditions.

This is about the type of bicycles a champion has ridden in his career. Tradition has it that the world champion only ever rides a road bike in his life, with the occasional exceptions of traditional disciplines such as cyclo-cross or maybe track.

Not so for Evans. Cadel evans tooled about on a BMX bike as a child before taking up mountain biking as his sport of choice. Needless to say he excelled in the fat tire sport before deciding to seek fame and fortune on the road - where he became one of the top cyclists of his generation excelling in the Tour de France and now winning a world championship.

This resoundingly makes the point that it doesn't matter where a cyclist learns the sport. If the talent, dedication/desire, psyche, etc. are there, the rider can switch to a given discipline (road, track, mountain bike, bmx, etc.) at a relatively late age and still excel.

Some traditions are worth preserving, but cycling has a few that aren't. Lance Armstrong noticed this, and wears black socks in protest. Cadel Evans, while hardly an outspoken rebel, in quietly doing his own thing has become the latest in a line of Anglo riders who are irrevocably broadening the scope of this great and storied sport.

The Times They Are a Changin

From the LA Times, November 2, 2009.

"A physician (Dr Christopher Thompson, ed.) accused of deliberately injuring two cyclists by slamming on his car’s brakes on a narrow Brentwood road last year was convicted Monday of assault with a deadly weapon, mayhem and other serious criminal charges....

"Prosecutors alleged that on July 4, 2008, Thompson stopped his car after passing the two cyclists and shouting at them to ride single-file. One cyclist ran face-first into the rear windshield of the doctor’s red Infiniti, breaking his front teeth and nose, and leaving his face scarred. The other was sent hurtling to the sidewalk and suffered a separated shoulder.

"A police officer testified that Thompson told him soon after the accident that the cyclists had cursed at him and flipped him off, so he slammed on his brakes “to teach them a lesson.”"

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Fact: The cyclists were travelling at 30 mph on a narrow winding, wooded road before the collision.

This is fast for a narrow winding road, and should not have caused most motorists much inconvenience.

Fact: Dr. Thompson had been harassing the cyclists by honking, revving his engine and driving dangerously close for some time before passing and shouting at them.

We have to ask here: Why was he so angry at these cyclists?

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There is never a good excuse for violence. Today is November 9th, the 20th anniversary of the collapse of the Berlin Wall. Imagine what we'd have said if the East German border troops had started shooting people when the Wall was so provocatively breached on that day in 1989 and thousands flooded through? Thankfully those German soldiers responded sensibly and nobody was hurt. Let's hope the salutory lesson of Dr Thompson helps persuade American motorists to take a leaf out of their book.

Like Eastern Europe in the late Eighties, this is a time of social change in America. Cyclists are coming back onto the roads in rapidly increasing numbers, for recreational purposes and for transport purposes. The simple fact is road use is changing. Maybe Dr Thompson would have benefited from remembering a popular prayer:

God grant me the serenity

To accept the things I cannot change;

Courage to change the things I can;

And wisdom to know the difference.

Did Dr Thompson think the cyclists were misusing the road? Even if he wanted to change their behaviour, it is seldom possible to do this in the on-road setting. But let's look at what cyclists can do to make it easier for motorists. After all, traffic flow makes good sense, and any vehicles moving above or below the speed of the flow cause disruption.

Cyclists generally cannot travel above 20 mph on a flat road, 10 mph on an uphill, but can often go faster than a car on a winding descent. If cyclists could go faster on the flat and uphill, my bet is they would. These cyclists were taveling at 30 mph, probably the safe speed limit on the winding descent where the incident took place. Overall, speed modification is not an option available to cyclists.

Asking cyclists to ride in single file makes a perceptual difference, but in effect it doesn't make a big difference to the ease with which a car can pass. Passing a single-file cyclist puts most cars into the oncoming lane. If the cyclists are single or double file, the motorist still must go into the oncoming lane. Insisting that cyclists ride single-file seems like an unnecessary demand, but it is an area where cyclists are able to make a conciliatory gesture.

It makes sense for cyclists to ride in very small groups, up to six riders. This makes it easy for a car to pass easily and safely. Even if a large group of 100 cyclists is arranged into small packs of six, spaced 20 yards apart, by making small leapfrog passes, rather than being forced into the oncoming lane for an extended period the road is made safer for passing car drivers and cyclists alike.

There are times when I have pulled over to let a car pass. That seems reasonable to me in some circumstances.

There are other times when I have deliberately blocked a car from passing. For example when I am about to commence a steep winding descent on which I know my speed will be faster than a car.

In my experience cyclists do not set out to aggravate motorists (except for the Critical Mass rides, but those rides comprise an incredibly small fraction of all cycling trips and for this discussion are treated as a separate subject). The intention is generally to share the road in a safe and harmonious way.

One other thing: cyclists should use strong head and tail lights, reflectors, and wear clothes that help make them visible.

The other obvious question is: what can motorists do to increase safety on the roads? It seems to me that motorists have more options.

First, they could drive a little slower around cyclists.

Second, they could be more patient, and accept that with cyclists on the road their trip might take between 30 seconds and 5 minutes longer. Those two modifications alone would help foster feelings of harmony, as well as increasing safety.

The self-righteous attitude of angry motorists who think Dr Thompson had a leg to stand on - legally or morally - doesn't help. And those that know him and condone or excuse his actions, because in other ways he was an upstanding member of their community, are misguided. The violent action of Dr Thompson as an enraged motorist brought shame on his community, his friends and his family. Maybe the court decision will help them to realize this.

The question is begging: What would the same community have said if the cyclist he seriously injured had been the 18 year-old son or daughter of another member of that community?

What Thompson did was a criminal act. In all likelihood, he will need anger-management therapy whether he goes to prison or not. We do not know how many other cyclists he harassed and bullied with his car, but it is safe to assume that each one was traumatized to some extent.

Some motorists behave as though they own the roads. One hundred years ago, some cyclists made the same mistake when the automobile was the minority vehicle. History has proved that both parties are wrong in such assumptions. If the managing authorities cannot arrive at an effective solution, we all need to modify our behaviour as we can to foster a safer and more harmonious relationship between cyclists and car drivers.

Back on the bike

Rode today for the first time in a long time. April/May this year is when I stopped riding properly. Not that I feel I'd really started, but I've really not ridden at all since then. The Levi's GranFondo project took too much time, that was part of it. A larger part was the mysterious sore hamstring which my body guy, Jordan Rothstein, thinks is the result of too much deep stomach tension. The hamstring pain disappears for several days after each stomach massage, so maybe he's right.

Anyway, it was a nice ride. About 40 miles, easy-paced, so lots of thinking. Not too many tourists on the bridge.

On my way back I rode to the Cafe du Soleil in the lower Haight, and reclaimed a bag with bike lock, repair kit and pump that I'd left there almost a month ago. They'd kept the bag for me all that time. My emergency cash roll was still there in the repair kit, so I left a $10 reward.

Not sure if I'll go out riding tomorrow. Yesterday and today's rides tired me out, and I'm still suffering from some lingering effects of the 'flu that got me on October 4. I still wonder whether or not it was H1N1.

Hamstrung

Waiting, waiting, waiting...

Not sure exactly why, but my right hamstrings are uncomfortable. The pain goes as far down as the cruciate ligaments behind my knee, and as high as the bottom of the gluteus maximus. On the bike it feels like a little stiffness. I know there's been a lot of shortening there in the recent weeks and months; I tried some stretching recently and maybe overdid it. Anyway, now it's uncomfortable. Feels like a grade one tear. Icing and resting....

San Francisco Randonneurs 200k April 26

With only two long mountain bike rides and two short road rides in my legs this month, I drove to the chilly 7 a.m. start at Lucas Valley Rd with some feelings of trepidation. Standing among the group of 25 or so during the pre-ride briefing a nagging uncertainty questioned my fitness to stay the course. Yet when Rob Hawks started us, by force of habit I hopped my chain up onto the big ring and met the chilly morning air at a brisk pace. As much as anything, I was trying to get warm! Soon I found a rhythm, and as I ascended to the saddle in the hills at the head of Lucas Valley, I could hear chatter in the group following close behind. I expected to be joined by several others after the descent, on the flats approaching Nicasio.

It was a beautiful spring morning, the air so fresh and clear and gay patches of flowers decorated the fields and roadside verges in the early sun. These bursting bright patches of springtime flowers in full bloom would provide so many, many bright spots along the entire route. It really was something to behiold.

The wind was mercifully quiet on this morning, it seemed like a perfect day for a ride. My spirits were soaring.

Looking back down Hicks Valley Rd as I climbed the leg-tenderizing Wilson Hill, I saw a group following me, maybe eight riders. I suppose this group must have broken up the the 10+ percent grade it was about to tackle.

As I left Valley Ford a group of three came rolling in: Vidas, Andrea and Geoffrey. In the end it turned out this trio would provide the only company I had on the ride, and even then I only ever saw them at controls as I was departing. I suppose I could have waited, but I have so much difficulty getting started again if I stop for more than a couple of minutes, and once rolling I felt good in my rhythm, so I was content to let it be a solo ride.

Pedaling past the soft green pastures of Chileno Valley Rd, I felt a deep sense that all was well with the world. The sky was blue, the headwind was very slight and the scenery was soft, green, warm and wonderful. From there it only got better as presently the course unfolded along the delightful Bohemian Highway, which is lined with redwoods and undulates gently under the easy winding turns.

I was cruising along with an average rolling speed of about 18 mph, and my legs seemed to be feeling fine even if the stroke volume of my heart was a little low. That's what I get for not riding enough....

Hitting Monte Rio, I felt the first assault of what at times would be a fairly stiff headwind. It was mild at first, but as I advanced along River Road toward Jenner the resistance ramped up in that invasive roaring way a headwind does, and I started longing for the southward turn onto Hw1, even though this came with the first of those awkward coastal rollers. After that initial climb on the south side of the Russian River bridge, I was soon bowling along to Bodega Bay at speeds close to 30 mph.

It was too good to last. The fun ended after long the drag out of Bodega Bay, where the road turns south-southwest and warps into that seemingly endless succession of steep rollers. These pummeled my legs all the way into Marshall. I started wishing for something bigger than a 27 at the back. And the wind was no longer my friend. Riding through that wind funnel made by the Tomales Bay inlet, my progress slowed at times to climbing pace. I seem to remember swearing at the top of my lungs in a gesture that immediately was made to seemed pathetic when the wind took my words and disintegrated them in its own steady roar.

In the end, though, I think it was that interminable set of steep rollers leading into Marshall that drove me to the hard stuff. I purchased a can of Coke in the Marshall Store. I'd arrived at a bad time, though. 12 car-travellers stood in the line ahead of me when I went in and I waited for what seemed like an age to pay for my liquid salvation and get my card stamped. By the time I got back on the bike everything inside me had slowed down and it took probably five miles before I felt any souplesse in my cadence.

Things go better with Coke. And from Marshall on, the conditions unquestionably improved. That unlikely saviour in the red and white can had restored a sense of optimism and mental focus, the course became flatter, and the wind started pushing me again.

The climb up Lucas Valley was possibly the best part of the ride. The gentle slope was almost neutralized by the powerful tailwind and I gladly accepted its help as I worked up the valley toward what surely must be one of the easiest final five miles' in the brevet world.

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First Week of Feb

With warm, sunny mornings early in the week, but rain threatening for the weekend, I went on early morning rides on Tuesday and Wednesday. Crossed Golden Gate Bridge to Conzelman Drive, Rodeo Beach, then back up McCullough Drive. The rides were only 25 miles, and I kept the work mainly aerobic with a max pulse rate of around 160. It felt good to start riding hills - which I have been avoiding since I got back on the bike in November 2008.