Category Archives: Cycling

In the Moment

Leave a reply

I had a day of fun, camaraderie, speed and scenery at the Tour De Talbot this year. This was my third TDT, and it’s an area that I like to visit, so I signed up early.

Before the start of the Tour De Talbot.

I had a strange approach to the Tour De Talbot this year. The weather was threatening and thunderstorms were in the forecast. I was tempted to simply cancel my hotel room and stay home. Though it didn’t look good, and even the organizers were making plans in the event of thunderstorms, I decided not to let the potential for rain stop me and I went to Easton on Friday afternoon resigned to accept what the weather would send my way. I got my packet and shirt, found a nice spot for sushi (Sakura on Rte 50 West in Easton), and went to bed with a “wait and see” attitude.

Normally at such times I’m excited. That implies a kind of tension, which feels normal to me. I had no such tension that day. The forecast I looked up on Saturday morning looked hopeful. No thunderstorms forecast until late afternoon. It looked like the Tour would happen, and we would stay dry. I went to the ride start at the Easton Fire Hall feeling relaxed. I had given myself plenty of time to prepare, and I got ready to ride slowly and carefully. My friend Stephanie had a group of riders that I was welcome to join, and I gladly accepted. We would all meet in front of the Easton Fire Hall at 7:30. It turned out to be a large and friendly group.

Standing at the back of a crowded group photo!

We started out at a conversational pace, around 15 mph, and it was nice to talk to new people. I spent a lot of time at or near the front of the pack, and I was enjoying myself as we rolled through town and then northeast into the open expanse of Talbot County beyond Route 50 that most travelers miss. I have a good memory for routes, and I was confident in the road markers. I didn’t need to look at my GPS, even though I had downloaded the route.

It was extremely humid and my glasses were fogged, so I took them off. Since it was overcast I didn’t need them, and I decided to clean them at the first rest stop and wear them afterward. I had planned on riding the 40 mile distance, and many of the riders in the group were riding the metric. I decided to stay with the group on the metric course for the first half of the ride, then finish on the 40 mile route after the ferry from Oxford to Bellevue. It added 5 miles or so to my total, but I had done the same last year and it felt fine to me.

Some of the roads on that part of the course had been recently chip sealed. That means they added tar and fine gravel to the surface of the road, which traffic compacts over time. For cyclists with road tires (like myself) this presents the dual danger of sliding on the gravel and getting flats from it. You have to be very careful on that surface. I wanted to be on my gravel bike with its wide tires on those roads – and true to the nature of such surfaces there were several riders who had flat tires in those sections. I was lucky and made it through intact. We were all happy to get back on smooth pavement again.

We approached Trappe, a town east of Easton at route 50, and despite some concern in the group about route markings, I knew the way. I took the lead and pulled the group toward the first rest stop. I had to pick up the pace to get our group through a green light as we crossed Route 50, but we managed, and I made the correct turn for the first rest stop, which I promptly rode past. Thankfully my friends didn’t, so I turned back when they called and got a rest, some snacks, and some Gatorade for my water bottles.

We were less than 15 miles from the Oxford-Bellevue ferry, where we get a rest no matter what we do, so some of the team decided to pick up the pace. Naturally I picked up speed with enthusiasm. We didn’t have much wind to contend with, and with a wide shoulder and light traffic on the way to Oxford the team really got moving. I’m sure I was grinning like a madman as we set a brisk pace that I felt I could manage, knowing that I would get a rest at the ferry. Oxford is a pretty little town. I’ve stayed there on a vacation mini-break, and I appreciate its charm. It looked like they had a sports car rally there as we came in, and I watched the cars go by with interest. We cruised to the ferry dock just as the ferry came in, so we went aboard without stopping for drinks or food.

Waiting to board the Oxford-Bellevue ferry. I didn’t have time to get food or drinks before boarding.
On the Ferry. Crossing the Tred Avon river is part of the joy of the TDT.

From the ferry to the decision point between the 40 and 62 mile routes we were still moving well, and I was enjoying the speed. I was riding strong in a line of riders, doing my share. Coming off the ferry I knew that I had less than 15 miles to go to get my 40 miles, but I was being encouraged to go for the full metric. I knew that my training to this point wasn’t that impressive, and I felt that it was likely that I would begin to suffer a little in the final miles if I went the full 62 mile distance, so I stayed on my course. It was a close run thing though. I wanted to keep riding. I was feeling good at the final decision point and more miles sounded inviting.

A well earned post ride beer. I didn’t know what to expect before I started, but it was a great finish!

Practicality having won out, I rode the last 3 miles on my own. I rode with joy and power, and got back feeling very satisfied with my experience. I had spent that entire ride living in the moment. No plans or expectations. I just took in the sights as I rode along and rode like a good team member when I was needed. Since I wasn’t sure if there would even be a ride for me that day because of the weather, it was a small joy just getting a ride in. I may not be riding as many events now as I once did, but I still enjoy them and this is one event that I’ll continue to ride in the future.

Addition by Subtraction

Leave a reply
The rest stop on my C&O canal towpath ride. The Cinelli Nemo is a great ride.

I have had quite a few bicycles over the years. As the Spring of 2025 came in, I saw that I simply had too many of them. I thought I could let go of 3 of them, and to help me do that, I decided to get ANOTHER bike. My current road bike, a Wilier Superleggera, is a custom build that I absolutely love, and I must keep it. Two older road bikes and a very old hybrid bike could go. I would get a gravel bike to replace them. That way I exchanged 3 bikes for 1, while reducing clutter and helping me let go of the old bikes at the same time. I wanted a change, and riding off road would be perfect. There are plenty of places nearby to ride on gravel, and that would motivate me.

Since I had a general idea of what I wanted, I spoke to my friend Travis at Just Riding Along Bicycles in Laytonsville MD. He had put together the specification for my Wilier road bike, and I’ve been very happy with that custom build. I’ve received a lot of compliments on it. I decided to ask for another custom build, rather than buying a gravel bike off the floor of a random shop with a parts specification determined by the company whose brand name is printed on the down tube.

I wanted a gravel bike with a steel frame and Shimano GRX gearing, which was designed for gravel riding. Travis put together a parts specification for me, and I trusted his experience. I asked him to be creative. I ended up with a bike that feels great and rides like a dream. It’s a Cinelli Nemo Tig steel frame, Shimano GRX gearing and pedals, Thomson Seat Post, Bars and Stem, and Rolf Prima Hyalite wheels, and Vittoria T-50 40mm gravel tires. For a steel off road bike, it’s quite lightweight, built with Columbus Spirit tubing, and I think it’s beautiful to look at too. Once the frame and parts were ordered, it was just a matter of time until they all came in and Travis could assemble the bike. When the time came, I felt like a child on Christmas morning.

After a full check-out, bike fitting and bedding in the brakes, I got together with friends the following day and rode 26 miles on the C&O Canal towpath. It was a lot of fun! I felt I’d made the right decision.

Every time I ride my Cinelli, the bike feels better. I’m still a road biker, but now I have the option to ride on dirt and gravel trails, and I am starting to feel comfortable riding on new surfaces, as long as they’re not too technical.

At the towpath with the Cinelli Nemo. It feels better every time I ride it.

My bikes are unique. They’re not mass produced corporate machines you can find in a catalog or the floor of your standard shop. For example, one TREK Checkpoint ALR 4 is just like any other, and they’re common. My bikes are not like anyone else’s. Both frames are made by Italian companies that aren’t common in the US, and they stand out in a crowd of generic bikes.

Now I’m looking at more off-road adventures. It’s exciting to go new places and ride new terrain.

Turning the Page

Leave a reply

On September 28th, 2024 I rode my 17th Seagull Century. Barring some special circumstance, it will be my last century ride.

Enjoying a well earned beer after the 2024 Seagull Century

I began riding centuries at the 2006 Seagull Century at Salisbury University in Salisbury Maryland. Every year until now I’ve felt excited about the next year’s event. After 2023, I wasn’t entirely sure of my willingness to ride another. In the spring I felt better about it, and I signed up. However, through spring and summer and into the fall I realized that I had lost my taste for century training. Almost all of the friends who once rode that ride regularly no longer go to the event. I had given up riding other century rides, but this one was special. It was my favorite. I started there, and it was a challenge. Then it became social, and eventually it became a kind of personal tradition. I’ve ridden it 17 times over 19 years, with one not held because of hurricane Joachim and another because of the Covid 19 pandemic. I haven’t missed one in all that time, but I know now that for me, the time has come to turn the page and walk away. I have nothing to prove any more, and I don’t train as I once did. I have other things that I want to focus on, and while I still love to ride, I don’t need to take on huge efforts like a century to stay fit. Much as I loved riding them, and as many good memories as they’ve given me, I have begun to see riding centuries as a step too far for my cycling enjoyment. I want to ride for the soul rather than train for events. I’ll ride events, but I don’t want to suffer for them. I’m scaling back the distances I ride when I ride events now.

I have started to see rides from 30-40 miles as good days out, and metric centuries (62 miles) are still fun without being too hard on the body. The difference between 62 and 100 miles often depends on training and nutrition, but for the average person 62 miles is near the limit of both stored energy and energy easily gotten through eating and taking in electrolytes. You will feel tired (depending on how well trained you are) and you probably will feel fine the next day. 100 miles is a different animal. You may be trained well enough to shrug off a 100 mile ride without caring too much. There was a time when this was a good description of my cycling fitness. For the most part, 100 miles will test your legs to their limit. You will need to eat and drink during the ride to avoid the dreaded “bonk” where you run out of muscle nutrients and are forced to stop. It’s a test. There have been 4 times in the past when I’ve ridden “back to back” centuries, that is 100 miles on a Saturday and another 100 the next day. That was many years ago, and every time I was testing extreme exhaustion, and it took about a week to recover. Recovery from a century will typically take a day or two for the average rider with decent training. Age is also a factor, and needless to say, as I’m in my 60s and I’ve lost my training mojo, centuries are getting much tougher.

I knew going in that this Seagull would be my last, and I decided that it would be a success as long as I finished, and it wasn’t my slowest Seagull. I stuck to my personal traditions, and set out to make it a memorable ride. My steel Wilier Superleggera was ready to go. It seemed the perfect ride for the event. On a flat course and a warm and pleasant day like that Saturday, my Wilier is smooth and comfortable, and it suited my mood perfectly.

Almost ready to set out on the 2024 Seagull Century.

Starting out I was surprised at how FEW people were in the parking lot, in front of the gym, and particularly near the starting banner after going through the tunnel under Rte 13. So much has changed since I started riding this event! in past years, it would be crowded in these places. I started out about 7:15 in the morning and warmed up quickly. I was trying to hold a steady pace, but not necessarily a fast one. The point wasn’t to go fast, but to ride steady and finish with a time and pace that was at least averaging 16 mph. That would satisfy me at this point. I wasn’t expecting much, because my training wasn’t as good as it could have been. I had a lot of rides, but not a lot of long training rides. Still, I felt good and once I got warmed up, I was enjoying myself. The first two rest stops found me holding on to a faster pace than I expected. I knew that I would pay for that later, but holding on to a speed that was good when I was better trained was a hopeful thing. I had one point where a kid was drafting me for a couple of miles, and I asked him to pull through. I could have used a pull. “I’m just following you” he said. “I know!” I replied. He disappeared, being unwilling to give me a rest. Thanks, kid. Some people really don’t understand cycling etiquette. If you’re unwilling to return the favor, or you don’t have an agreement to be there, please don’t draft people!

On Assateague Island, 69 miles in. Getting there is a big part of the Seagull Century.

I reached Assateague Island as I began to feel fatigue. Had I stopped there I would have felt fine the next day. I could have bailed out then. Many riders apparently do. There are SAG wagons available. I ignored that possibility. I was going to finish the entire ride even if I had to crawl across the finish. I had been enjoying the ride so far, but I knew that I would have to slow down in the last 37 miles. I expected those to be difficult miles. I took a good rest before I set out again. By the time I reached Berlin on the way back I had begun to cramp up a little. Nothing major, but it was a concern. When I reached the final rest stop at mile 88, I needed a break, and I took a long one.

At the final rest stop, 88 miles in. Fatigued and cramping a bit, but enjoying the ride.

I knew that I had another 18 miles to go. I knew that I was beginning to cramp, so I did my best to stretch out, hydrate and fuel up for the final leg of the ride. It’s funny how you can suffer a little and still find it all so enjoyable. It was a good day to ride, and I was doing something I had enjoyed for years. Discomfort didn’t matter. The beer garden at the finish was calling to me, and I was listening. I got back out on the road.

The final leg was accentuated by leg cramps. Nothing severe, nothing to stop for, but I did find myself standing on the pedals to stretch from time to time. Yes, I could have trained better, but I knew I would finish. I took in the sights and smiled as familiar landmarks rolled by. I entered Salisbury with nobody nearby. I picked up the pace near the end, just because it felt right. I rode through the tunnel with a smile. I got to the finish line and pulled over feeling like I had nothing more in me. 106 miles, at 16.5 mph. Not great, but good enough. I went back to the car, stowed the bike, put on sensible footwear, and went back for pie and ice cream in the beer garden. Then a beer to celebrate. It was a good ending. I headed back to the hotel hot tub. I needed it. After the Seagull in 2022, I knew I wanted to come back. After 2023, I wasn’t sure. This year I am certain that this was my last century. I started riding centuries with a Seagull, and I ended with one. It was a perfect day.

I’m turning the page on century rides, but not cycling. Just rides over a metric century in length. We all have to grow, change and evolve as we age. It would take something special to get me to ride another century. This just feels right. I had a good century ride to end on, and I look forward to new and different challenges.

Rethinking a Personal Tradition

Leave a reply

I’m the kind of person who likes to take on challenges, and I’m also the kind of person who creates traditions. I value consistency, but not when it comes at the expense of novelty. Last month I rode my 16th Seagull Century. When I first rode it, the Seagull was a challenge. I wanted to finish a century. Then I wanted to improve, then it became social, then it was something I did every year that had become traditional. This all happened because I was enjoying it and it helped motivate me. Previous entries in this blog show how much I have enjoyed this event.

On the Salisbury University Campus on Friday the 13th with the Salisbury Seagull.

In the last couple of years, I have begun to get less from the Seagull than I once did. I found that most of the familiar faces that I used to see there were absent. I have been riding it alone in recent years, pushing myself as an individual challenge to complete a goal. It occurred to me earlier this year that I just wasn’t getting as much out of this event as I put in. I decided to ride this year’s event and get all I could from the experience. Then I would take the time to evaluate my goals, and decide whether to continue to ride it every year.

The Seagull Century Information Desk

The 2023 Seagull would be a serious challenge. The forecast called for rain. This isn’t unusual, I’ve been rained on during the Seagull a few times. The Friday before was a glorious day, and the following Sunday was also nice. It just happened that the weather had stubbornly chosen that particular day to water us. As a result, I thought that there were fewer riders this year. The difference was pretty obvious. On a sunny day, this would have been a kind of rolling cycling festival. This year it was a more focused affair, with only the most committed riders on the course. There were a lot of us, but the sheer volume of 5000 or more riders wasn’t in evidence. I don’t know how many were riding this year, but I think two to three thousand would be a good guess.

The vendors inside Maggs Gym.

I arrived Friday and went to campus to pick up a shirt, and of course I walked around the gym to see what was on offer. In all the years I’ve been riding the Seagull, I have never bought a Seagull jersey. This year’s was a good design, so I purchased one and picked it up at the gym. On Saturday morning I parked in the usual place, then I went to the “High Carb Breakfast” at the SU dining hall. It’s better than the typical Continental breakfast in most hotels. Afterward I prepared carefully and left for the tunnel and the ride start.

Ready to ride.

I let myself bask in nostalgia as I entered the tunnel, given my uncertain feeling about my future participation in this event, and as I approached the start banner it was dry and beautiful. Could such a nice start really end badly? I set myself a strong pace, understanding that I didn’t have time to waste if there was a chance that I could avoid the rain. I felt good and rode steadily. I remembered the years when I had last been on those same roads and seen those sights. It was fun. The first stop was brief. I had been drinking well and I’d emptied a bottle and a half. I refilled, ate a banana and snacks and headed out again as the light gray morning skies filled in and darkened.

The first rest stop. No rain yet!

My pace was steady, and others tried to pick up my wheel as I rode on – and at least one started breathing hard, then dropped off suddenly. The lesson – ride the pace you’ve trained at. This may be a flat ride, and drafting can save you energy, but you have to know yourself. This is a century ride, not a race. There is no prize to be had. I was having a good time. My second stop was a little longer, but I still felt good. I headed out for the next leg to Assateague feeling hopeful and dry. There were clearly fewer riders – fewer to pass and even fewer passing. I followed the road marks, but it wasn’t really difficult. I was having a good time. I arrived at Assateague (mile 68 this year) feeling confident. It was a gray day with the odd raindrop, but it hadn’t amounted to a drizzle for me, so I took my time and looked around. I headed back feeling strong.

The Verrazano Bridge to Assateague Island,
The beach entrance on Assateague Island.

My luck held out for another 7 miles, then at about 75 miles in the rain began. Not a light rain, but a steady soaking rain with no respite. I was heading west into it, and there was no choice but to endure it. I still looked at those familiar roads and smiled, but the Seagull Century is known for raining on riders every few years and this was expected. In fact, looking back on past years, I’m surprised at how often it’s been dry for me. The final stop was at mile 87, Adkins Mill Park. I found a dry place under the picnic shelter. I hadn’t been drinking much, so I ate, drank and refilled bottles. I felt so wet that I should have been approaching dry from the other end. The last leg would be the shortest. I set out to hold my pace and endure the rain. The other riders also seemed resigned to being wet and determined to finish. I thought it was interesting to see so many smiles among them. I was hanging on to that strong pace I started with. The cold and wet weather was working against me, but I was still going well. This would be the fastest Seagull I had ridden in years. Coming in to Salisbury I felt strangely lighthearted. I was alone when I went through the tunnel. The cheers were wonderful, if slightly less in volume than on dry years. In all, I rode 105.5 miles at an average of 17.6 mph. Not bad for a 62 year old man.

Coming out of the tunnel in the rain toward the finish.
Celebrating the completion of my 16th Seagull Century.

I was wet cold and exhausted when I got off the bike. Thankfully Dianne found me as I walked over to the beer garden and handed me a Pumpkin Spice Latte. It was wonderful. I might have been feeling the edge of hypothermia, and getting out of the rain and drinking that latte felt wonderful. I celebrated with a post ride beer, but I didn’t hang around long afterward because I was still very wet and very cold, and I needed to warm up. The hotel hot tub revived me. I had a nice dinner with Dianne and came home the next day feeling satisfied.

With the benefit of a few weeks to think it over, I may ride some different events next year. I don’t want to completely give up on Seagull at this time. I booked a hotel room when the date for 2024 was announced. I won’t hesitate to register if someone asks me to ride with them. If I’m still feeling ambivalent about it, I can cancel the hotel and move on without regret. I ride enough to be ready in case I change my mind. There have been times when I was excited to sign up and excited as the Seagull approached, but I think that as people whom I once shared that excitement with stopped riding it, I started to get less out of the ride. I’m keeping my options open, and I won’t make a decision until next summer. This is the first time since I started riding the Seagull Century that I haven’t been sure that I’ll be riding it again the next year. I’m going to feel fine no matter what I decide though.

Cycling Mementos

Leave a reply

Recently, I bought a new car. When cleaning out the old one, I found a small item deep in the glove box that I’d gotten as a give away from the Bay to Bay Ride over 10 years ago. It was a keychain flashlight made of plastic. It blinked fast, or slow, or acted as a steady light depending on how many times you pushed the button. It has the name and date of that event on it, and they probably cost the organizers no more than $1.00 each. In the end, they made money on us, despite giving these items out to the riders and volunteers. It didn’t even have a battery door. It was the sort of thing you hang on to until the battery dies, then throw out. Or you give it to a child, or throw it in a drawer (or your glove compartment) and forget about it. I mentioned that find to my friend Ron. It sparked a few memories.

A keychain light with the event name and date printed on it. Little things like this link us to memories.

Yes, Ron and I rode that century together. When the ride happened, in late June of 2012, we were riding every century ride within driving distance of the DC area, because we wanted to ride 10 centuries a year. Because we had fun (and were generous with our post-ride beer), we had a sizable group of friends who rode with us and we all got along well on and off the bikes. We rode so many miles together that we became skilled at drafting and pace lining. People in our group were riding between 3000 and 5000 miles a year. We all had jobs, but we made time to get together for rides, and if someone wanted to go out and ride a new event, or led a ride in our local cycling club, we all got together in support. That Bay to Bay ride would have had about 6-8 of us riding together.

The Bay to Bay ride runs from Betterton Beach by the Chesapeake Bay to Woodland Beach by the Delaware Bay, crossing from Maryland to Delaware and back. Before getting to the rest stop at Woodland beach, the ride crosses salt marshes, and those marshes are the home to biting flies. They are such universal pests that they put one in the Bay to Bay Century logo. I don’t remember ever riding that event on a bad day, so in 2012 the weather would have been good. I’m sure I got bitten a few times as I rode through the marshes. We all did! I remember the rest stops, and the route. There weren’t many climbs to speak of. I remember how hot it would get by late morning. The scenery was typical of Maryland’s Eastern Shore, and I always enjoyed it. After a few years, events like that flowed into each other. We always stopped on the way home for a late lunch and a beer. That’s what we did between about 2010 and 2015. I don’t think I missed that event during those years. My flashlight souvenir found it’s way into the glove compartment, and worked its way to the back and down into the “out of sight, out of mind” part of my life.

The biting flies in the marshes are such a common feature that they were incorporated into the Bay to Bay Ride Logo. This was taken from the shirt given out in 2013, the year after I got the keychain light.

Things eventually had to change. Some of us retired, some moved on, some were injured and slowed down, one tragically passed away. I stopped riding 10 centuries a year after 2015. I went down to 7 centuries a year, then 5. In 2020, no events were held due to the pandemic. This past year, I only rode one century. It’s been 10 years since the event that handed out those souvenirs. The people who rode with me that day in 2012 are older, wiser and driven by other things. I may ride Bay to Bay again, but perhaps I’ll ride the metric century – 63 miles instead of 100. There was a time when we wouldn’t plan a ride less than 40 miles long unless it was in the cold of winter. That has changed. I’ve been on rides planned around a cafe stop. I won’t stop riding my bike until my body breaks, but I’ll always have good memories of those years when I had an unofficial team to ride with, and even as a recreational cyclist, I was very serious.

The usual memento for event rides is a T-shirt, and I have far too many of them. Spring cleaning has often claimed old event shirts. I’ve heard about people making quilts or art out of old event shirts. Sometimes a shirt will spark a conversation. You never know what will inspire a memory. As for the keychain light, I carefully opened it and replaced the batteries. It still works! I suppose that’s a metaphor for me and my cycling. While I still can, I’ll ride. As long as I do, I’ll keep having good memories.

A word about bicycle saddles from a seasoned rider.

Leave a reply

It’s been a while since I’ve posted. In that time, I’ve ridden another century, and I’ve done more riding as the year went on. One change I’ve made is that I’ve changed saddles. I don’t do that often, but saddles wear out or break sometimes, and looking for a new saddle will introduce you to an enormous range of choices.

The Brooks Cambium C15 saddle.

A cyclist rests on bones called the ischium, or “sit bones”. These are bones in your pelvis that support your weight as you sit or ride. These bones vary in width for every individual, which along with other factors make your choice of saddle a very personal decision. Some saddles are straight, some curved, some wide, some narrow, some have a cutout in the center to relieve pressure, and some are padded. I can’t speak to the individual needs of other riders, but I can talk about my choices.

My old saddle was a Selle San Marco Regal. This is a straight saddle with no cutout, and it served me well for 3 years. I’ve also ridden on Fizik Antares and Fizik Arione saddles, some had a channel or cutout to relieve pressure. They were straight rather than curved, and they all varied slightly in comfort. In mid October I got a Brooks Cambium C15 saddle. This one is straight, no cutout, and narrower than the ones I’m used to riding on. At this time, having ridden enough miles to get a good feel for this saddle, all I can say is that I’m impressed. The Cambium is a vulcanized rubber compound that flexes slightly, and it’s narrower than the saddles I’m used to. In many ways, it’s similar to a leather saddle. I’ve had leather saddles before. When I got my first “racing” bike in my early teens, it had a leather saddle by Wrights. This was similar to a Brooks saddle, and from what I’ve read they were purchased by Brooks in the early 1960’s. From that experience I know that leather saddles are extremely comfortable after they’ve been ridden for a while. Once broken in, a leather saddle conforms to you.

Brooks saddles are known for being comfortable. I am very impressed with the quality and comfort of the Brooks Cambium C15 saddle. Their standard is a leather saddle, the B17 model. The C15 is narrower than the B17 and its Cambium counterpart the C17. Many have said that Brooks leather saddles look uncomfortable, but once broken in, they swear by them. I’m learning the truth of this. . The Cambium saddle I’m riding on now is also very comfortable. Now that I’ve got it broken in, I’m very impressed. I’m going to stay with the Brooks Cambium, or if I do change it, I might just go for the Leather equivalent, the Brooks Swift saddle.

I can’t say what saddle would be best for anyone else, but I think at this point a Brooks leather or cambium saddle is very comfortable once you’ve ridden on it for a while. To be clear, as I make this recommendation, I get no money or other considerations from Brooks for saying any of this. I’m only stating an opinion, and I have to say that in my experience, once it conforms to you, such a saddle can be a rider’s best friend, particularly on a long ride.

Riding for the Soul

Leave a reply

For the last two days, I’ve rushed out my door after I finished work and rode hard for an hour. Both times I made it back just a few minutes before sundown. Days are getting shorter – Autumn has arrived. At this time of year I’m feeling good, the temperature and humidity have dropped, and the riding feels easy. Sadly, the days are getting shorter and there is less time before sundown to get a ride in. Now is the time for end of season events, enjoying the good weather and good company before shorter days and colder weather start driving me inside. At this writing I have less than 3 weeks before I finish all my events for 2022. When that happens, I ride for the soul. By that I mean that my riding is done for the feeling of freedom, the enjoyment I get from the beauty of my surroundings and the company of those I ride with.

A fall ride from a few years ago with my friend Eric. Rides at this time of year feed the soul.

In years past I had events to ride nearly every weekend in September, but in these post-pandemic days some of those events have not come back, and rides like the Indian Head 100 aren’t on the calendar any more. Some of the people I would have ridden with in past years have moved on too. I recently took a week off to go to Portland Maine for the Lighthouse Ride. As always it was a fabulous event. The weather was perfect and the event was beautiful. I have more lasting memories of Maine to take with me now. I have 2 more rides on my calendar, the Taneytown Twister for my cycling club, and the Seagull Century. I don’t feel the same urgency for events that I once did. I have ridden so many events that I know what to expect and how to adjust to conditions. Finally, I just don’t worry about them as much; I’m less concerned about my performance when I’m riding them now.

My first events were tests; I was concerned about just finishing them. Soon they became routine. I started riding events with friends and events became social. Without the group I once rode with, I have to change the way I ride events again. I still enjoy riding them, but maybe now I’ll be riding events for the soul. After all, I have the experience of having ridden over 100 century rides. It isn’t a matter of finishing, it’s a matter of knowing how to adjust as I ride, and feeling the joy of riding.

With so little time before my events arrive, last minute intense training won’t do anything other than wear me out, so I may do the occasional hard ride, but I build in rest to be sure I’m fresh when the time comes to ride my events. I enjoy riding in the cooler days of September and October. The rides that I’ve done all year have steadily built up my fitness. When the days cool off, somehow my rides feel easier. When I’m done riding events, it’s all for the soul. Every pedal stroke is for the enjoyment of the season. It’s about good times and good company. I can see it coming as the days grow shorter. I’m looking forward to cool days and soulful rides.

A different kind of experience at a familiar event

Leave a reply

Recently I rode the Covered Bridges Classic in Lancaster Pennsylvania in support of a friend. We were riding the short route, 35 miles. The Covered Bridges Classic is a rolling ride through Amish farm country. I’ve ridden this event many times over the years. Normally I would have ridden the metric century at this event, but this time I was with a friend who was new to cycling events, so I rode in support to add my experience and my company to his day. I went with the flow. It changed my focus a little. I noticed little things at the roadsides. I stopped for pictures at the bridges, and I found that the time slipped smoothly by.

Ken (on the right) and I before starting out on the Covered Bridges Classic.

Ken is a co-worker and good friend. I’ve been talking to him about cycling and events for years. He took up cycling himself, and chose the Covered Bridges Classic as a goal. He’s learned a good deal about cycling, and while the ride would be his longest ride distance of the year, he was ready to test himself. We had a good day for it. I have to admit that I felt good on the climbs, and there were times when I chased a few riders up the hills. On the back side of one particularly long and grinding climb we were rewarded with a steep descent that got our top speeds for the day up to 40 mph. We rode it safely and it was a memorable roller coaster moment. I was impressed by Ken’s focus and determination. We finished feeling good, and I don’t think I could have enjoyed it any more than I did.

I saw it all through the eyes of my friend, and we were so pleased afterward that my girlfriend, who had been studying at a local cafe, is now determined to join us on the ride next year. When we returned to work, we showed photographs and shared our stories of the event with our co-workers, and that was also a part of the experience. A different perspective on an event can be refreshing!

Ken in front of a covered bridge, with an Amish wagon coming through in the background. Photos like this are just another reason to come to Lancaster, PA to enjoy the Covered Bridges Classic!

A New Event!

Leave a reply

The Chesapeake Cycling Club’s C3 Tri-County Classic

Waiting for the Ferry in Oxford, Maryland during the Tri-County Classic.

I enjoy riding events. I’ve literally ridden hundreds of them, and they’re good for motivation, fitness, training and simple cycling enjoyment. This year I registered for a newly created event called the Tri-County Classic. 65 miles on the Eastern Shore of the Chesapeake Bay in Maryland, which included an area I didn’t know well, and even had some short climbs. The Eastern Shore isn’t known for climbing, and while you can find them on some rides in the area, it’s mostly a place known for flat rides and headwinds. Yes, headwinds. The dreaded weather condition that a good friend calls the “Eastern Shore Mountains”. Conditions on this ride turned out to be a challenge, even without high winds, but on the whole, it was a good experience.

The ride started in Easton, a town bisected by Route 50, the major artery from the Chesapeake Bay Bridge to the ocean beaches of Maryland and Delaware. As a result it’s a place that people will often drive past but not experience. The ride included a choice of two courses, a 30 mile course and a 65 mile course. The short course looped around the river inlets to Oxford, taking a Ferry across the Tred Avon river, and then heading back to the start. The long course headed west into more rolling country before coming back to Easton and joining the other course to the ferry, then back to the start. The ferry ride alone makes this a fairly unique event.

The weather was a concern. A storm was moving up the coast, and the concern was getting caught in it. The ride was sold out, but I believe that many riders stayed home for fear of the weather. My colleague Ron and I had no such problem. I’ve always said that I don’t mind riding in the rain, but I won’t START riding in the rain. It’s a fine distinction, but it works for me. Since the rain was going to hold off until late morning, I brought a change of clothing for after the ride and headed for Easton. We were on the road by 8:00.

I stuffed a rain jacket in my jersey pocket and we set out, leaving Easton and entering the countryside. The roads were good and the scenery was pleasant. The rest stops were good. We were still dry upon leaving the second rest stop, but on the road into Oxford, the rain began. After a quick stop to put the jacket on, and a stop at the Highland Creamery in Oxford for a little time out of the rain. The organizers provided a ticket for a free ice cream, so we took advantage. We went to the ferry, standing under a tree while we waited. The ferry ride was fun, and the remainder of the ride was wet, as expected. It was still a good course, and had the day been dry, I’m sure more riders would have come and enjoyed the experience. This was a well planned event. I’m glad I was there for the first edition of it, and I plan to ride it again next year.

We stayed briefly to check out the post ride atmosphere, but we wanted to get a meal, so we reluctantly left for home with a stop at a favorite seafood restaurant along the way. After you get home from a ride in the rain it’s important to clean the bike and wheels thoroughly and re-lubricate the chain before you ride again, but I’m good about bike maintenance and I thought it was worth doing in any case. I had a satisfying ride, and it turned out to be the longest ride I’ve done so far this year. There will be other, longer rides for me, but this was a good event to start the year.

Taking advantage of a brief winter thaw

Leave a reply

This morning I awoke to a light snowfall. It won’t amount to much. Mostly it’s a pleasant looking inconvenience. The strange thing is that yesterday the temperature was in the 60s (16 Celsius), and I got my bike out on the roads for the first time in 2022. I didn’t go very far, and I wasn’t too fast, but it felt good. Riding outdoors is nothing like riding a trainer. My legs are feeling the difference. I only count outdoor miles in my yearly totals. I know some people count trainer time, but I’m on a simple trainer, and frankly if I’m not going anywhere, it doesn’t feel right to include it in my totals.

It’s been a colder than average winter here, but like any other winter, occasionally a brief thaw happens. Those days are valuable. Whenever I have enough warm clothing to ride comfortably on the roads, I get out and ride. It may be rare, but by this time I’m usually dreaming of getting outdoors, and I take every opportunity. The days have begun getting longer, but I’m still a month away from Daylight Savings Time. I look forward to DST because by mid-March the temperatures are trending warm enough to ride comfortably in my warm cycling clothes. I can also start riding short rides after work before the sun sets after DST, and it’s exciting to start regular outdoor workouts. Though brief warm spells like the one I took advantage of yesterday are too good to miss. I rode through Rock Creek Park in Maryland with my friends Ron & Rita. Much of our route was closed to traffic, and the route is a local classic – very popular with riders, walkers and skaters. Something about moving through the landscape and breathing in the outdoor scents makes me feel good. As I look out the window at the snow flurries, I’m reminded that while it’s still cold, spring is on the way.

Late last week, I purchased an Insta360 Go 2 action camera. I don’t know when it will arrive with the supply chain problems that we’ve all had, but hopefully I’ll be able to add video to these posts at a later date. I’m hoping that it will help me tell these stories more effectively. I’m also planning my events for the 2022 season, but I’ll write more about that later!