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adventures / cycling / Friday / photo — Comments Off
22
Aug 25

Then don’t go that direction

Just work today. Sorta, anyway. I’m now pulling together my final class of the term — and just in time! The good news is all the material is there. Today I worked out the syllabus and started the Canvas shell. I’ll finish the former this weekend and the latter in December, when the class ends.

All of the material is in hand, except for perhaps one reading. I just need to sort it all out, and get myself sorted out. But that’s what the next eight or nine days are for — he told himself, confidently.

Also there are something like three meetings next week, so it isn’t that many days.

But it is a beautful, seasonally mild-to-appropriate Friday, and you don’t let details get in the way of appreciating seasonally mild-to-appropriate Fridays.

Also, I’m tired. And possibly ready for a nap.

We had a nice bike ride today. We went “back that way,” which is a 20-mile out and bike from our neighborhood, through the next one, down and up a hill, before turning left at the church and then pedaling like mad for two miles, all of which was the preface to what I now think of as Always Bad That Direction.

Every time I go this way, it’s a poor quality performance on my part.

This one, though, she was cooking. I only caught back up to her wheel because she was kind.

I set a Strava PR on the last uphill. It was one of those things which I hadn’t previously realized was a segment, but now I do, and so today I tried a bit harder. Only I wasn’t sure exactly where the segment began, so as soon as I took the left turn, I was determined to make it to the top of the hill, a little over a mile a way. Turns out the segment was that whole stretch of road. I took 32 seconds off my previous fastest time of the year and 38 off of last year’s best.

I’ve ridden that hill 16 times, and only now noticed it was a segment. (The fastest time recorded on it is a full 1:31 better than me. That’s not reachable.)

Also, I marked my second and third best times on two other segments, but, still, the whole ride felt slow, and my legs heavy, right until the very end. (It should not take 70 minutes for my legs to warm up. Especially since I won’t stay at top condition for more than 12 minutes anyway.)

When I turned off the tracker, Strava gave me this happy news.

And I was a super late adopter to that app. My first tracker has me at almost 2,000 and 2.2 months of exercise. That seems like a lot, until you remember how long it takes to get there. The first thing I recorded there was a short little bike ride in May of 2011.

I remember it like it was 14 (!!!) years ago.

cycling / photo / Rowan / Tuesday — Comments Off
19
Aug 25

Making you wonder about the efficacy of bungee straps

I finished the last big lecture in my newly designed course. The course is finished. Now I have to only assign groups, write prompts for the midterm and final, make two other small decisions, and do daily prep throughout the term. So that I might, you know, actually run the course.

That’s the other thing about creating a new class. You’re not done until the final is in sight. But anyway, foundation, framing, walls, roof, shingles and all of that are now in place. Its a class we can live in for three-and-a-half months.

Anyway, I can put that behind me for a while, and focus on the other class. And also tomorrow afternoon’s committee meeting.

I forgot to add this poor quality video to yesterday’s post. The video isn’t great, but DailyMotion makes it worse. (I need a better video hosting option.) Anyway, these deer were out in this big field that’s sandwiched between a state highway and this little side street I took. They ran along side me for much of the thing, which was charming. Eventually I thought, I should pull out my phone and that was just before the deer thought, “We should turn left!” They didn’t come close to me, of course, they were trying to get away from me. But here’s me shooting a video and getting a firm grip on the front brake at the same time.

I had an even better encounter on today’s ride. Though I might have messed up her stride.

I did the thing today where I had a slight idea of the route I wanted to take, but then I changed it all up, mid-ride. This is maybe my second favorite kind of ride. The only thing better than spontaneity over known roads is deliberately setting out to find new and unknown roads. But, anyway, I went to town, doubled back through some heavy sprint zones and then turned left at one of the crossroads that also has a name that also ends in town. In about six pedal strokes I was outside of that town, and pretty soon saw two cyclists ahead of me. Or was it one? No, two. Maybe actually just the one. Nope, two. Definitely two. That’s what a couple of hills and blurry glasses will do to things way down the road.

I caught them on the second hill, a man and a woman. Both riding with blinkies and brightly colored shirts. The guy looked perfectly comfortable, like he was just riding alongside his companion, and she was having a little tougher time of it. I called out to them as I pulled alongside. The usual stuff. Great day for a ride! Except for this hill, right? Well, gotta go, have a safe one!

Then I pushed on, and they did not follow. I took a right, and the road opened for another big high-intensity push, and this view.

So I’m cruising along at 22 miles per hour and trying to remember if I remember this road. There are two — or is it four? — roads that cut across in this area and some of this looks familiar, but maybe I missed the landmarks I’m thinking of because I had my head down, or I was hypoxic.

Anyway, the road ended as expected, I turned to the right, as planned, and then set off on a three-hour adventure to the red light that was up ahead, visible for the duration, and still three, make that six hours away. Took forever. So much for those two big sprinty roads I’d just enjoyed.

Basically I’m doing parts of other routes in reverse, so all of the sensations are backward. What should be a slight descent to a riverbed is now the most interminable false flat road engineers have ever devised. And then this red light, which never changes. And then some more time with my nose in the wind. And so on.

The advantages of being in the wind is that you go slow. And also, it is demoralizing. But, occasionally, you see something that’s fallen off a car or truck or tractor, which means you might stop, or turn around and investigate. And today’s roadside find is curious, and maybe useful?

What even is that hook? It is sort of like an U-hook, but not. Sort of like a closed face, but not. You can see how it might have fallen off a truck bed. I don’t know what it can be used for, but fortunately I have an entire shelf in the garage dedicated to “Tie downs and other stuff I don’t know what it can be used for.”

Most of that shelf is bungee straps. You find a lot of bungee straps on the side of the road.

adventures / cycling / photo / Rowan — Comments Off
18
Aug 25

Do not remove, in parts or in toto

Much progress was made, for a workday, for a Monday. I finished the notes and slides for a key lecture. One more of those and this particular class will be all but set. Which is great because the fall term is hurtling toward us quickly. So I am motivated, and wide-eyed, looking at those deadlines. I’ll wrap this up tomorrow. And then I’ll start work on finished the prep for my last class. Fortunately, all the materials are gathered, and I have good help to get it done. It’s just a matter of doing the eye-squinting part of finishing it, and polishing the product.

I’m still finding typos in things for this other class. And while that is mortifying — even as it is, at present, intended for an audience of me — I am making my peace with it. I’m just never going to consistently punctuate bullet points correctly. If you’re wondering if you do it right, and we all wonder, well, it is complicated.

I don’t want to say I’ve fallen into the “What does it matter” camp, but I do understand the allure of the “They’re bullet points, what does it matter” argument. There’s a difference there, and you’d do well to distinguish between the two. If you’re having difficulty in doing so, I have spelled out the argument in the following:

Just kidding.

Saturday afternoon, after my pretty decent little Friday night ride, we went out for another. She said she was up for an easy ride. And this is part of what that looked like. See her? Up the road?

I think this is about as far back as she got from me. Also, I’m not sure where that shade was, but today’s route needed more of it. I was tired and it was hard, not easy, and also warm.

When I did catch back up to her, I did not go way up the road, but rode alongside, trying to grab a good shot for the socials.

Sunday, I saw this. Please read the sign. And please do not remove.

You know, right away, they’ve had problems with that. You wonder how many times they’ve had that problem, that finally motivated the addition to the sign. You wonder how it was removed. Did people push the cart away? Did they tie it to their bumper and drive it away? And what’s the top speed on an oversized cart of this sort, anyway? What’s the lead on your rope or chain? And can it hold up to a sharp right turn?

Alas, a closer look will show you they’ve taken further anti-theft measures.

Or, else, the local prankster is thumbing his nose at the sign one part at a time.

I saw that as we were on our way to a swim. My lovely bride found a 5K swim to do, and I found some shade to sit in. Here she is, looking over the start of the course. Apparently, it was a swim around that little island out there.

Anyway, she did it, emerging pleased with the course, the ability to see the buoys after a mid-day (rather than an early morning) start. That was her longest swim in a couple of years, prior to her big bike crash. So she spent the rest of the evening rubbing her shoulder. Also, we basked at the local creamery.

And then, today I worked. This evening, so pleased was I with my progress, that I went out for a ride in 69-degree temperatures. It was overcast and pleasant and I timed this one just right, getting back right before darkness landed on the road in front of me.

Did you know you can ask Siri for sunset times where you are? That comes in handy for evening rides, as it was for this 23-mile effort.

Now, to work on another lecture …

cycling / Friday / photo — Comments Off
15
Aug 25

When in doubt, pick the faster meal

This is a story about a boy and his bike. Because it was a delightful day. Because I had to go outside, or risk growing into my office chair. Because I’ve pretty much bored myself with to tears with trying to find new ways to discuss the work and sometimes-confidence-sometimes-anxiety that comes with creating a class out of whole cloth.

But when I closed my computer today I knew I was just two lectures away from being through with this class design. I also feel like I’ve been saying that for weeks. But then I sat down and made a list — for the sake of accuracy, I was already sitting when I started that list — and realized there were several things to do. But now it’s down to three things, which is really five things, but could technically be seven things, and two of those are these last lectures. So Monday. Maybe Tuesday. Because I think I’m taking the weekend off from all of it. I think I need it.

Of course I’ll be back at it tomorrow. Or by Sunday afternoon.

Anyway, this evening I set out for a bike ride. It was a lovely one, and so I went down the road and through one of three towns in the immediate area with town as a suffix. (And two of them, while charming in their own ways, are overstating the case.)

I had the added benefit of a late start, so that everyone was already where they needed to be, always a concern in that bustling metropolis of 487 people. The English got there late in the 17th century, and I guess it has always been some kind of sleepy, especially on Friday nights.

But the views are lovely.

I turned left at the river and continued on one of our usual routes. Their good for this time of day. We are at a latitude where we are already in that dark-comes-in-a-hurry time of year. Sure, roads get predictable when you’ve been on them four or five dozen times, but you want to know exactly what you’re getting into. You want to be able to pace your ride as necessary. You want to be able to make changes if things aren’t going just right. And, always, you’re thinking about where the point is that you can have a flat or other mechanical problem, fix it, and still get back home.

You don’t want to throw in a lot of variables when you’re racing daylight.

That bridge, an overpass, has been closed for a while. I’ve been over it twice since they shut it down. I’ll just weave around the barriers and …

OK, they’ve hardened this up a bit. I could hop the barrier, but despite having gone through the barrels and past at least two road closed signs, climbing over that seems like it would remove any appeals to my ignorance.

I’m sure the bridge could hold me, but they’ve made it clear they don’t want me to go over there.

So here’s the thing. I’m 11.5 miles in. I’m racing daylight. I have, when this bridge is in service, four possible variations back home, each making a completed ride of 16, 16.5 or 20 miles. But I can’t go that way because of my pretending like road closures apply to me, too. So I have to retrace my steps. And if I do that faithfully, which I did, that of course means 23 miles.

Easy quiet roads, though, so that’s good. I had my blinkies, so that’s good. The most important thing, in fact. I did not, however, carry my headlight, which isn’t really a problem. I knew I’d be back before I needed extra light to see the way in front of me.

Anyway, this was the view behind me at one point. It’s a bit fuzzy, as I was shooting over my shoulder at about 20 miles per hour, but the colors aren’t bad. That’s one well-tended field there, let me tell you.

Only the last two minutes or so, when I was inside the subdivision, did it get dark. Two neighbors who were walking did not expect to see me. I apologized as we met. They laughed it off. My lovely bride was waiting for me, in The Pose. She was unhappy with my timing, but, then I hadn’t yet told her about those unanticipated extra seven miles. In fact, I should have just gone out 15 minutes earlier.

We have agreed upon roads for night rides, and I was only on one of them, and that right at the end, and just before it became truly dark. So as she stood there, arms crossed, making a big show of patting one arm with the other hand, she said I could make it up to her by deciding what we’d have for dinner tonight.

By way of apology, I chose the sweet-and-sour chicken.

adventures / cycling / photo / Rowan / Tuesday — Comments Off
12
Aug 25

Catching up on the weekend

It’s a big week of doing work. A big week of working. So this probably will be a light week here, while I’m busy being productive finishing syllabi, making Canvas come to life, pulling together lecture notes and the like. And then there’s the endless doubt and self-recrimination that always comes with taking on, and creating, new classes. Am I doing this right? Is it right? Is it enough?

Is it too much? Will it hold up to scrutiny? Can others also find it interesting? Am I going to meet the class objectives? Will it be well received? Will we want to offer this again?

I’d feel this way about it if someone gave me an immortally successful class that was failproof.

I might feel this way with a class I’d built that was always successful, too. But I have somehow never had a lot of opportunity to test that concept. My chair noted in my contract packet last spring that I’m flexible and amendable to taking on new courses at the last minute. It was kind of him to say, but that’s perhaps not the reputation you want to burnish. Constantly building and learning and mastering new material is a fun challenge, but it can be a challenge — especially if you want to really master it.

This term I am teaching classes seven, eight and nine here. It’s my fifth semester here. There’s a certain amount of psychic energy involved in all of that.

The good news is that I can worry over this a little more. Perhaps, by 2027, I’ll have finally built out all my own courses. My own corner, indeed.

Anyway.

There’s something about my Saturday bike ride I’m trying to get off my chest. This was one of those rides where I wanted to change up from the usual routes. Sometimes the best surprises come from simply asking the question: what’s down that way? So I did some very familiar roads, and then I got to a particular place and turned left instead of the usual right. I was rewarded with some lovely tree-covered roads, a delightful change of pace considering how often we’re riding out in the open air wind here. I was under those trees, in that shade and on those close-in curvy roads long enough that when I got funneled back out into the farmland again it was a bit of a shock. So bright! And wide open!

About the time I adjusted to that again, I realized where I was. I’d come this way before, but in the other direction. Then I saw a sign which told me which town was in each direction and I was clearly oriented. And so I’ve put another few roads together in the mental map.

It was about that time that I saw a little blinking light well ahead of me. Another cyclist! Instead of turning around, I decided I’d go catch that person, which I did about a mile later. Before that, though, I experienced a dangerous pass from a truck hauling a trailer loaded with a Bobcat. The truck would have been bad enough, but it was one of those that felt like you were going to get sucked under the trailer. I suspect you’d need to experience that to really appreciate it.

So when I got up to the other cyclist, I asked him how his day was. I asked him how that truck had been for him. He gave me a grim half-smile, which allowed him long enough to play it cool. “He gave me about a foot.”

And, friends, that’s not OK. Nor should we play like it is.

Since it was Saturday, and I had a long bike ride, and elsewhere my lovely bride set a new PR in the Olympic distance tri, we celebrated with a custard.

At the same time, all of this is still going on outside.

And there’s easily more than a week of that to go. No scurvy will be had in August.

Yesterday i tore myself away from the computer for 90 minutes for a bike ride. I did my 25-mile time trial route and took 36 seconds off my previous best, which was just last week. Making me think that I might be close to topping out. Or that there are still a lot of gains to be made. Anything is possible.

Either way, the corn is coming along nicely. Sometimes you whip out the camera and shoot something at 19 mph without even looking at the composition, and it works out pretty well.

Hopefully the next one will, too.