Alaskan Pack Fodder

I pulled up to the group ride start just as the first bolt shot across the sky. As the other riders arrived, I tracked the progress of the storm across the sky. Off in the distance, it seemed like it was moving inland and to the west. We were heading along the coast and to the east, so we should have dodged the bullet. Should have. After a 300 mile week, my legs were pretty much attached by not much more than thin strips of ache. Of course, instead of the C+ riders present at last week's ride, who would have ridden me into the ground in my current condition, I faced a collection of significantly stronger riders from the Destroyer and Pain Train rides. "Fuck my life" doesn't begin to describe it. A young rider from the Pain Train got a new Cervelo aero super bike and was anxious to beat the rest of us about the head and shoulders with it. I'd say he suceeded. After he opened hostilities, one rider after another conspired to make me seriously consider taking u...

Tuesdays are quickly becoming my favorite days of the week.   That's the day I jump in with the Destroyer ride and get my teeth kicked in. Instead of riding around alone, I chew on my stem in a paceline that seems solely created to make me hurt. This requires some next-level douchebaggery.    When I rotate to the front and it's my turn to pull, I slowly ramp up the power. The increase is gradual enough that the guys behind barely notice it until it's cooked. KInda like when you put a frog in a pot of water and slowly bring it to a boil. They're so happy when I pull off that they don't notice that my pull was much shorter than everyone else's. They're just happy it's over. As I slip to the back, the guy on the front is cooked that the pace slacks off to below the median for a while, allowing me to recover. Instead of a steady, mind-searing slog, I reduce my exposure to a brief period of hurt before I slip back into the draft. I'm a complete as...

I've been known to ride around the block a couple times to get a nice, round number of miles. I've been known to stop the Garmin a little early to get a specific time. Today I might have taken that a bit far. After riding a good number of miles already today, adding to the miles I had already put in this week, my legs felt a little flat. OK, a lot flat. When I downloaded the ride's file, it came out to 278 miles. Not a huge number by some people's standards, but most people I mention it to look at me like I'm a little strange- and that includes a lot of cyclists. SInce I've been averaging 260 miles a week since I got down here, 278 miles is not a bad total. However, in the hours after I downloaded the file I had plenty of time to reflect on that number. Four times around the loop of Keesler Air Force Base is 22 miles. That would make 300 miles for the week. I couldn't remember the last time I did 300 miles in a week that included a rest day and a few ...

The other night I did a local shop ride. A couple hammerheads were there, but most of the riders were of the "Primal Wear semi-humorous beer-themed jersey" type. You probably know more than a few. Nice, welcoming guys, but a quick glance at their mid-sections confirmed I wasn't going to be dropped on this ride. After a series of eye-bleeding group rides, it was a welcome change. They introduced me to routes I hadn't considered before, giving me new inspiration for future weekends. Worth the price of admission (free). They kept the pace reasonable, so I had a chance to see the sights and learn the turns instead of focusing purely on holding the wheel in front of me. Another nice change. At the turnaround, one of the hammerheads jumped. Not thinking, I chased, but reacted too late and ran out of gas halfway across the gap. I throttled back to a reasonably painful pace and spent the next couple miles reeling him in. The group got smaller and smaller in the distance u...

I have more time on my hands than I know what to do with.   My only obligation down here is school, and when the day is done I come back to a quiet room. I change into my kit and go riding. When it's dark, I come back. That usually amounts to two or three hours of riding a weekday, far more than I can muster at home.   At home I have family obligations. Ninety minutes (at best) is all I can squeeze in. No long, slow distance for me. Everything is compressed and organized to get as much benefit as possible out of the precious moments.   A weekend ride here stretches to three or four hours. I wish I could ride longer, but the heat and humidity beats me down until my kit is drooping under the water weight and my pace slows to a crawl. No matter how much I back off the pace, four hours is about my limit. Sometimes I do two rides in the morning and night to avoid the sun, but the totals never really justify the added effort.   When I get back to the room, I shower...

Back home, I have more bikes than I can ride in a week. Not that it's a bad thing, because I like having bikes for different purposes. I also like that if one bike is out of commission, I have another that can step in. Missing a great day of riding while waiting for a part to come in is never fun. I have more than a few sets of wheels. Carbon and aluminum of varying types, widths and depths. Again, I like the variety and the flexibility. Here in Biloxi, I have one bike with one set of wheels. I don't have to think about what I'm going to ride each day, because I only have one choice. Fill up a couple bottles, strap on whatever accessories the ride requires (it gets dark occasionally), kit up, and roll out the door. Doesn't matter what the ride is, the bike is the same. Simple. The titanium bike has continued to impress me with its simplicity. It's not the lightest or most responsive bike I've ever owned. It doesn't descend like it's on rails or b...

The local hammerhead ride down here is called the Destroyer. Strong riders pound away for around 40 miles and try to grind everyone in their wake into red smears on the pavement. It's not an explosive ride. People don't throw long range attacks, charge the "hills", or otherwise make large efforts in the middle of the ride. The heavy influence of triathletes in the area have shaped it (and most other rides) into a more steady-state affair. That's perfectly fine with me. This is their show and I'm just happy to tag along. Every group ride is pushing me to hold on a little longer, fight just that little bit more to resist the incessant pounding they're throwing down. Maybe I'm getting stronger by hanging on. Maybe I'm doing irreparable damage to my muscular systems. I'm not too bright, so I just don't know. I've done three rides with the group. The first was a rainy affair that was lightly attended because of all of the lightning and t...