(Preface:  as I chose the longer 200K route this year, I did not get to ride with any of the Team Alameda contingent, I only saw them very briefly at the start, so this story is only about my saga of confronting my personal challenges presented this day by Mother Nature)

Mile 103: Chalk Hill

I must have been a sight: a dark rider in shades of black and blue with a hoodie flapping in the breeze, green vinyl rainpants hanging off the right strap of my Camelback, a found “dickie” bib hanging off the left, filthy white bike, soaking wet,  head down, grinding up Chalk hill in a heavy drizzle.  I was in the twilight zone, not really aware it was already 5pm or that I had been out in the rain for 10 hours, I was narrowly focused on just another stretch of road winding up ahead of me and I was the only rider in sight… or so I thought.   “I’m not trying to pass you…” said a perky voice on my left.  I snapped out of my daze and looked left at the young woman in neon green alongside me.  “Oh, by all means pass me.” I said feeling not one bit put out in any regard.  She smiled and said that she couldn’t.  I told her I really was not feeling strong at this point.  Maybe it was just that moment in time, but she looked at me and said perhaps the best thing anyone has ever said to me while I was on a bike:  “Well…” she said, ” you look strong!”  I think maybe that one comment alone made it all worth it. Read the rest of this entry »

A few weeks ago I dusted off my 1991 Miyata and took it out for a club ride.  Club Prez. Johnny H. remarked at a regroup, ” Dude!  You are rocking on the Miyata!”.  He was dead on, man, I WAS rocking on the Miyata.  I was savoring a unique ride unlike any other, forged from the cutting edged technology of 1990 and a minimalistic vibe the complete opposite of todays carbon wonderbikes.  How can a ride that  old be that good?  I can’t really explain, it, but I know it when I feel it.

Read the rest of this entry »

The veins in my right leg are itching.  I had an ongoing case of this as I was training for the Death Ride this year—just weeks and weeks of throbbing, itchy leg veins.  I think the leg muscles get so pumped up they push outward on these vessels, and since there is no good place for them to go, they protest mightly with these symptoms.  At any rate its a good indicator of how hard the ride was as only the hardest rides make this occur, and it occurred yesterday on our 60 mile, 6000′ climbing expedition. Read the rest of this entry »

 (Greetings Flashblog reader.  Here for your reading pleasure is one of the fabled lost Flashblogs, written one year ago, recently discovered under the bed, covered in dustbunnys and cat hair.  It is especially relevant considering the Mt. Hamilton ride will commence once again in two weeks)

Part 1, The Context

One gray Sunday about two years ago I geared up and rode down to the local Peet’s for a cup of Joe. This was before the idea of the casual Sunday ride had been conceived, and around this period of time in its place existed the Sunday Drop Ride, and the Team Alameda “racer” types could be regularly seen milling about getting jacked up on go-juice before the 8:30 ride.

This particular day only three of us showed up, and I wasn’t even there to go on the drop ride. The other two riders were Keith Beato and John Melder. Keith has since gone on to great accomplishments like completing the unbelievable Paris-Brest-Paris ride, but back at this time he was just getting into the sport so I hardly knew him. John was TA Ride Captain at the time and had a firm reputation as “The Hammer” for his hard charging, no waiting style of riding. I found him as intimidating as he was inscrutable. Read the rest of this entry »

My Death Ride started at 3:30am inside of a very dark tent pitched in a clearing at Grover Hot Springs campground. Or had it? As I lay there in my down bag, the fog slowly lifting from my brain, it occurred to me that this was merely the day of the event. The ride had started many months ago, perhaps even years ago. At what point did I decide to do this? That I could do this? I pondered the point for 15 minutes then dressed and crossed the chilly meadow to the picnic table where I would proceed with priority One: make a strong cup of coffee. Read the rest of this entry »

I gave it all to the bike this week.  This is a phrase coined by my perceptive wife Cathy, aka, Flashette, and usually used in a less than positive fashion, when she doesn’t get what she wants because I got what I wanted.  So I try to avoid this and save something for the old homestead, and I’ve been pretty good lately, but slipped up this week.

I realized this Sunday afternoon when I chose to pass out in bed rather than feed my family by doing my weekly Safeway shopping run.  I used to joke about when the checker at the market asked me for “help out to the car”, and how I would rate the difficulty of the weekend’s rides by how close I came to saying yes to that offer, but never did.  Yesterday I didn’t even make it to the market.  I blame the Death Ride. Read the rest of this entry »

I’ve always been fascinated with mountain climbing documentaries, especially those focusing on Mt. Everest Expeditions. I begrudgingly have to admire those men and women who climb into the “death zone”, where oxygen is scarce, the cold can freeze off your appendages, apocalyptic storms threaten survival, and yes, where some sportsmen give it their all–but all is not enough–and on the side of the mountain they lie, freeze dried for eternity in their neon ’70s climbing garb. I admire them because they cast away their better judgment, their guaranteed safety, to put themselves in certain danger, just to stand on top of a mountain for 30 minutes, just to say they have done it. You could say it makes no sense. Read the rest of this entry »

Greetings. Thanks for mousing over here to Flashblog. I realize you must be out of the habit by now. I’ve been suffering from a bit of writer’s block in that I’ve not been able to complete any blogs. I’ve actually got several drafts sitting on the virtual back burners like cheap cuts of pot roast, eternally marinating in their own insipid juices, the slow flames breaking down the proteins and gristle until an edible product is formed, and with enough salt, can be gagged down.

So I decided, the hell with trying to be new, improved, and relevant, I’ll just go with a stream-of-consciousness type blog and let it be what it is. One idea I’ve been spritzing myself with is the Origins of Flash series.  Flashette gets credit here:  she came up to me one day and said ” Who is Flash anyway?  I’m married to you, but who the hell are you?”  A classic line if I must say so myself.

Its easy to write about, I know the subject well, and  its slightly relevant. At least the blog gets updated, so here goes! Read the rest of this entry »

Many of you know Flashette crashed last Saturday 3/1. Flashette has been studying injury/trauma resolution for 10 years and will give you the benefit of her knowledge as she heals herself and returns to ride again.  Cathy is a skilled writer and her breadth of knowledge will guarantee an informative,  fascinating read.  If you recall my story about walking on fire then you will remember how she used hypnotherapy to eliminate my pain…she’s GOOD!

You can find her blog in the Team Alameda forums:

http://teamalameda.com/forums/index.php?automodule=blog&blogid=3& 

    Yesterday my ride group was taking a break at Nelly’s and I got the idea to take them on a little roundabout route through upper Piedmont on the way home. A nice, gentle side route with the aim being to show them a new area and a fun downhill to boot. Well, I got good natured flak from almost everybody on this. They were skeptical of my intentions and convinced that I was going to trick them into climbing a MoFo hill. I gave repeated assurances it wasn’t like that, and everyone eventually agreed to go, and they did  have a good time. However, I did not ask them to “trust me” on this.  Read on and I will explain. Read the rest of this entry »