Bike Noob

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Where Are All the B Riders?

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The forecast looked good for today, with temperatures in the 60s. Our club president picked a route that was mostly flat, but included some rolling hills about midway through, and wasn’t quite as long as the Sunday rides usually go. Still, I had a lot of Christmas preparations to handle at home, so I decided I would start with them, but then head off on my own to Creedmoor, a little crossroads southeast of Austin.

The reason I wasn’t going to do the full club ride was that I just get tired of being left behind on my own. These rides are not no-drop rides, and if you come along, you have to know that from the get-go. That’s fine, but if I’m going to wind up by myself, it might as well be on a route I know, rather than one like today, where I had only a rough idea of the directions.

So, Saturday night I jumped onto our club’s Yahoo group, and posted that I would be heading to Creedmoor, and invited any interested B-level riders to come along.

At the Starbucks Sunday morning, I sat at one of the outdoor tables and watched the riders roll in. Every one of them was an A-level rider.

“Are you going to ride with us today, Ray?” asked Pippa. Five years ago, I could ride with Pippa. But I’m still at the level I was at five years ago, and she has become one of the more aggressive A riders.

“Well, I’ll start with you,” I replied. “But I’m still going to head to Creedmoor.”

The difference between the planned route and Creedmoor was only about 10 miles, and if things had been different — such as, not a pre-holiday weekend when my wife expected me back at the house to handle my share of cleaning chores — I might have tried sticking with them. But I had a plan, and I was determined to follow through on it.

We set off in a group down Slaughter Lane, a four-lane divided thoroughfare that I normally avoid. At 8:15 on a Sunday morning, we could take up the right lane, and a few cars used the left to pass us. Cut through the high school parking lot into a nice subdivision, then out to Brodie, a two-lane road that has a bike lane of varying width and utility. I found myself in the middle of the group, drafting one of the faster A riders. But the A ride was keeping a steady and moderate pace today. I wasn’t even breathing hard.

We got down to a ranch road where Austin starts to piddle out into semi-suburban helter-skelter neighborhoods. A long Union Pacific freight train gave us a few minutes’ rest, and when we started again, I had to really push it to maintain contact with the group. We turned onto Old San Antonio Road, and that’s where I lost it. The road is a steady but gentle incline — the kind I just hate. I’d rather do rollers, or short steep hills. Here, the A’s could crank away at their pedals and pull away from me. My thighs started to burn.

By the time we crossed I-35 into the rural area southeast of Austin, I was well off the back. I could still see them, about 200 yards ahead of me, but they had picked up the pace now, and I wasn’t making up any ground. But by now, I had resigned myself to the usual B position on these rides. When the peloton turned onto a narrow country road, I stuck with the ranch road I was on, with the decent shoulder, and in keeping with my original plan, rode the remaining five miles to Creedmoor.

Taking a few minutes’ break at the Creedmoor convenience store, I assessed my ride. I was averaging over 16 mph, which is pretty good for me. I wasn’t tired, or even stressed, by the effort. The trip home, on a completely different set of roads than the ones I had come out on, was uneventful. I finished with 35 miles under my wheels, and felt good enough to head right out after my shower to do battle with the hordes of shoppers at Costco.

We used to have an active group of a half-dozen to a dozen B-level riders in the club. It seems they’re not all that eager to come out anymore. Maybe it’s the holidays, maybe it’s the weather (60-68 degrees and overcast? Can’t be the weather), maybe it’s just that they have other things to do. But I sure would like some company on these rides.

 

What a B Ride Should Be

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My friend David wanted to ride together this weekend. Then my friend Buddy wanted to know if I was leading a club B ride Sunday morning.

I saw a chance to kill two birds. I scheduled a B ride on the club Yahoo group, and agreed to lead it. Usually, that brings one or two people out who might not otherwise come. We had a total of seven — pretty good.

I suggested to David that we make a run to Kyle — 23 miles south of town, for a 45-mile round trip. But when I saw the newcomers sitting around outside Starbucks before the ride, I left the decision up to them: Kyle, or a short out-and-back to Buda, for about 32 miles total; or we could split the difference for a 38-miler. The third choice won.

On the way out, another rider jumped onto our group.  Chris said he had been meaning to come out for a club ride for awhile but never got around to it.

At the end of a long gradual uphill, I heard a shout from one of the women in the group. Tara had dropped her chain. Her boyfriend Lucien came to the rescue and got her going again — but only a mile beyond, the group stopped while Buddy fiddled with his own dropped chain.

“Buddy is an optometrist,” I said while he worked. “So he always keeps a supply of surgical gloves handy.” Everyone chuckled, while Buddy got his chain adjusted, and we moved out again.

The pace was steady. Not too slow, not too fast. Steve, who was doing his first ride with us, found common ground with Buddy, since Steve used to teach the visually impaired in the Austin schools — and had even started a tandem bicycle club for them once. Newcomer Jan showed she was no newcomer to riding, because she had the knack of grabbing a wheel and motoring along smoothly behind a pacer.

When we got to Buda, we stopped at the Walgreens for a break. Depend on the fountains at the drug store to have cold water for bottle refills. I explained the next part of the route to the group, and we set out.

We rode through old downtown Buda, then turned onto Cole Springs Road, which leads through some forested areas and puts us in shade for awhile. The group stayed more or less together, which pleased me. But once we got to Farm Road 1626, we were in for another long gradual incline. Tara, the newest rider in the group, fell behind. Lucien stuck with her and we got to the turnaround.

“Here’s where it gets fun,” I said. “We’ll go downhill all the way back to Buda. We’ll go 30 mph through here.”

Lucien and Chris took me at my word, and shot off the front. I tried to catch them, with no luck. The riders strung out along the road, and we arrived back in Buda with large gaps between us. Lucien said he would wait for Tara while we went back to the Walgreens for a regroup.

Somehow, David had missed the part about regrouping at Walgreens, and didn’t see me as I tried to wave him down. He passed the store and headed off alone. We parked bikes in the shade and took advantage of the store’s air conditioning to replenish ourselves.

The route home varied from the route out. We turned onto Twin Creeks Road, which winds and dips and climbs for several miles. Tara was slowing by now, and I stayed back with her to coax her back to the group. Once we gathered again, we took a new route through a new subdivision — one that lets us stay off too-busy Brodie Lane and skip a dicey left turn.

Tara and Lucien turned off for a shortcut home. Chris turned in the opposite direction to go to his house. That left Jan, Steve, Buddy and me to reach the finish at Starbucks and sit around for some cold beverages. Steve thought the ride was a perfect distance, but Jan was ready for a few more miles. We all agreed the pace was just right — we averaged 14 mph for the 38 miles. A few A riders who had not done their entire route — 5100 feet of climbing — were there to greet us, and we compared notes.

The consensus was that it was a great ride. No one pushed beyond the abilities of the group, we got out in the country and rode some nice roads, and the terrain was varied enough to keep things interesting. These are the kinds of rides I like to do, and we’re going to be doing more soon.

 

Snippets From a B Ride

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The emails flew fast and furious last evening. Our usual time to leave for the Sunday club ride is 8:15 a.m., but the forecast called for temps in the 30s at that time. I had planned to go, but wimped out when I saw the prognostication. Looks like a lot of others did, too — including some A riders. We had 13 in all for the B ride this morning at 9.

One of the problems we have in Texas is that the weather is rarely that cold when we ride, so most of us don’t have the kinds of warm cycling clothes our Northern brethren have. I was feeling a bit out of place in my red long-sleeve jersey (over a short-sleeved club jersey) and screaming green vest, because our club kit is white, blue, and yellow. Most riders had at least a club jersey on the outside. Then Jerry D. pulled into the lot.

“I’m glad I called you to coordinate clothing,” I called to him.

Bike Noob (left), Jerry D.

“Why, we’re the Gay Blades today, aren’t we?” he retorted.

Lots of chatter before the ride about clothing. Many wore glove liners, multiple layers, booties, ear muffs. Then there was Brian, our club Canadian. He showed up in a windbreaker over a short-sleeved jersey, and shorts. “It’s nice to ride without 10 feet of snow on the ground,” he said. The temperature when we rolled out was 38 degrees (3C).

One of the reasons I enjoy the B rides is that ride leader Jordan insists on keeping them “pleasurefests,” as opposed to what he calls the “sufferfests” of the A rides. But some A riders joined our little group this morning. David V., a Cat 3 racer and the club bike mechanic, said he’d done a hard hills workout the previous day, and wanted a recovery ride. There was New York John, and Marianne, who rarely rides with the club. She brought Tom, a friend of her husband’s, who was fixed up with a less-than-perfect bike. It wouldn’t shift out of the big ring. That didn’t seem to bother Tom, who is visiting from Boulder. Pippa, another A rider, was there to keep Judy company. Judy would normally ride with the As, but has been recovering from two broken bones in her wrist, suffered during a fall (don’t brace!).

About three miles into the ride is our first challenge: Davis Hill. It’s an ordinary hill, that can be tough for newer riders. The problem is, there’s a stoplight just before you make the turn for the hill, and hill begins immediately. “The difference between As and Bs on Davis Hill,” said my friend Rick, “is that the Bs shift down and try to spin up the hill, and the As get out of their saddles and attack the hill.”

I attacked today, but I was huffing and puffing, and sitting down again by the time I got to the top — when to my left, Tom glided by. In the big ring. Not a care in the world. Okay, I won’t worry about him today, I said to myself.

We crossed Interstate 35, and were headed for the country, when David V. and New York John caught and passed us. We had taken a major road to the I-35 junction, one that had a short stoplight. David and John had taken a side street, but their stoplight was a long one. “I don’t know why you Bs complain about As going too fast,” said David, “when you leave us behind.”

Out in the country, I found myself next to Laura, who’s become a regular on the B rides. She was ecstatic over her recent bike fit. “I feel so much more power than I used to,” she said. Her husband Mike, one of our A riders, had taken her to a prominent local racer who fits bikes at a local bike shop. “He put some things on my shoes that keep the angle natural,” Laura explained. “The fit took about two hours. When Mike asked him if I already had nearly a good fit, he said I wasn’t even close. I can really feel the difference.”

At the turnaround in Creedmoor, Jordan asked me to explain the return route to everyone. We were riding a “lollipop” route, with the same out and return, but a nice loop in the middle. “When we get to the 90-degree right turn on the way we came,” I said, “look for the fork onto Thaxton Road. Take that.”

Back on the road, I was near the rear to keep tabs on one of our slower riders. Sure enough, when we got to Thaxton Road, Judy and Laura blasted by without turning. Several of us raised a shout to get them to turn around. I kidded Judy about missing the turn even after the route had been explained at the rest stop. She was unapologetic.

“When people start telling me directions, it’s like the teacher in the ‘Peanuts’ strip,” she said. “All I hear is Wah-wah-wah-wah-wah.”

I’m glad she didn’t miss it, because Thaxton Road was repaved last year, and it’s nice. The highlight for me is a turn at the top of a hill. We get to blast down into a subdivision on a smooth, wide two-lane with no traffic. I made sure everyone was behind me, and started down, pedaling hard in the big ring. At the bottom, I waited. And waited. I could see back to the top of the hill. Apparently they had decided to gather there to wait for slower riders. Eventually, I saw them coming down. When they finally caught up to me, I asked who had the highest speed down that hill. I had hit 34.8 mph. I figured at least a couple could go faster than that.

“I rode the brakes all the way down,” said one. “That was scary,” said another. “No way I was going to look at my computer going that fast,” said a third.

Two miles from the finish, we passed several of the fast group fixing a flat at the side of the road. We kept on to the finish. They caught up to us a few minutes later. Marianne had been the flat victim.

“A screw went right through the middle of my tire,” she said. “I got screwed, and I couldn’t even enjoy it.”

The outside tables at Starbucks were full. The A ride had come in after a trip out to the Formula 1 race track being built in Austin. The chatter was loud, full of laughs. Several passers-by stopped to ask about the club, its rides, average speed. We urged them to come out next week. It looks like the B rides will start at 9:15 for the next couple of months — everyone seems to like leaving then, instead of the earlier time. A good day in the saddle — the kind of day that makes me want to ride again.

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