Not so Bad news and some Very Good news

Well, let's start with the ...

Not so Bad news. 

Sebring is out for me this February.   The logistics and cost just don't justify it.  5,000 mile round trip driving (I'd be taking two bikes and lots of gear so onliest way I'd do that is with my trusty Ford Ranger).  Gas, lodging, food, etc., would put it easily into the $3K range.  I can (and will) put that money to much better use in my neck of the woods.

Very Good news:

I'll be getting two `Time' and `Distance' courses measured out here to be considered for official sanctioning for the UMCA.

Time courses can be used for 12 hour and 24 hour events;
Distance courses can be used for 100 mile, 200 mile events. 

The Prescott Cycling Club will be heading up the course measurements and submitting them for sanction and approval.  We're expecting to complete the measurement process within the month and submit the data and materials to UMCA. 

Each course

• Has almost no traffic;
• Few and no intersections;
• Is flat;
• Almost straight as an arrow;
• Has an excellent shoulder (wide, no rumble strip, minimum road debris).

Course # 1:  

• 50 miles: Aguila to Brenda, AZ, on Highway 60.

This course is almost entirely on the RAAM / RAW route.  In the AZ desert, with elevation from to 2160 feet to 1350 feet above sea level.  The temps are what you would expect: 100 - 110 F range 8 months out of the year.  Tolerable the other 4 months.  No snow.  Ever.

Only two or three intersections going west and one intersection coming back east.  All can be navigated well by a crew that drives ahead to make the transit safe and fast.  A few towns (3?) from start to finish on the 50 miles.  Aguila is about 60 miles from Phoenix. 

Course # 2:

• 25 miles: Paulden to Ash Fork, AZ, on Highway 89.

This course is not on the RAAM / RAW route and climbs from 4400 feet to 5100 feet through National Forest on good and well maintained roads.  At these elevations some snow can sometimes be a factor but it is also a more temperate climate all year long.  The thing about the `National Forest,' though, is that the terrain is mostly scrub desert.  No intersections.  Again, this could be both a `time' or `distance' course.  Ash Fork is about 40 miles straight west on Interstate 40 from Flagstaff, AZ.  

The road cycling community in the Prescott area is active 12 months of the year.  And more and more serious cyclists are seeing the terrain and climate as being ideal for training. 

Also, Prescott is considered one of the premier mountain bike locations in the country.  What with the mountains, several National Forests and well maintained roads and trails it is nothing less than a hidden jewel. 

--------------

If Muhammad can't go to the mountain then the mountain will have to come to Muhammad.  

When I consider the time and money I would sacrifice to drive from my house to Sebring ... I'd rather build a Sebring out here. 

You'll be hearing more soon.  Stay tuned. 

The `b'ness' end of things

A few days ago I was out for along ride in the lower elevations.  Rolling desert rocky terrain below the snow line, waaay out into the unpopulated AZ ranch country.  Fewer than 3 vehicles on the road per hour. 

Rolling along after mile 25 on an out and back I needed to find a place to do my `b'ness.' 

I spot a break in the Juniper and Cottonwood trees and brush to the side of the road and pull over.  As I'm crouching my way through the brush it opens up into a completely empty green and brown grazing pasture.  The pasture is only about 50x50 meters and abuts a steeply rising rocky hill for about 800 feet. A quiet `spot' of beauty in nature.

There is a wide gate to this fenced in area.  The gate has a heavy lasso-type rope holding it closed against a strong post with firm barbed wire in either direction.  I look around carefully to assure that no one is there and that there are no horses or livestock that will charge at me. 

I open the gate and move off to the left about 10 yards behind a copse of big Manzanitas.  I proceed to do my `b'ness.' 

As I'm gazing at the immense beauty and noticing the utter quiet and silence my attention falls to the copious evidence of horses having done THEIR b'ness here, too. 

When I'm finished and get myself all ready to return to the bike ... it hits me: 

I turn to see if MY b'ness is bigger than the HORSES b'ness! 

Once again I am confirmed in my ability to hold my own against mother nature's best :)

Confidently and filled with utterly pointless hubris I let myself out of the gated pasture and resume my biking. 

I'm still feeling `proud' of the `b'ness' end of things.

Irrational and myopic ... but so, so human. 

(I wonder if there will be a horse that returns to the grazing pasture and ... does the same thing).

Real World Training

If you could be exceptional at either `intelligence' or `persistence' (not both), which would you prefer?

Sounds like a question I'd get from St. Peter at the Pearly Gates.  I'd probably get sent to hell `Express' for trying to negotiate a little of both. 

I'm about 70 % persistence, 20 % slack-jaw stump-stupid, and maybe 10% intelligence. 

When my clients saw all the degrees on my wall I'd try to lower the shock factor by telling them: "I'm educated waaay beyond my intelligence."  And, frankly, I think its true. 

I just kept going to school.  Didn't - WOULDN'T - stop.  I went to middling colleges and universities and they were happy to take my tuition as long as I didn't present as a potential embarrassment as an alumnus. 

Back to Training. 

After several depressing days of indoor training and a few shocking days of absolutely lethal outdoor training in the freezing, windy, icy, twisting mountain roads I figure out a real world training prospect for the cold months.  Drive down to a lower elevation and train. 

The snow line is about 5,000 feet.  I trained on rolling and challenging upgrades of 6% for 6 miles at 4,000 feet today.  It was windy, cold and wet.  But manageable due to the absence of crazy twisting descents and icy roads.  It was also in the mid-40's.

Dressing for the wind and wet requires `shell' clothes and some thin wool jerseys.  Made all the difference.

Training at lower elevation 

More tomorrow. 

Vocabulary lesson

I didn't expect to get a vocabulary lesson in my training ride today.  But I did. 

Mid-day it was relatively warm (50's) and brilliantly sunny day up here in AZ mountain country.   I got out for a training ride at 1:30PM.  At it's height the sun is low on the horizon, just 10 days from the solstice.  It gets dark fast.

I rode south, up a smooth and twisty road (White Spar/89) into the Bradshaw mountains in the Prescott National Forest.   The road hangs off the eastern side of the mountain. 

Melt Ice: At 6,100 feet the sun is intense on the snow.  The snow is piled in berms on the east side of the road and it covers the forest and sheer walls on the west side of the road.   When the sun beats down on the snow it melts and water washes across and down mountain roads.  When it hits the road it is a barely visible shade of grey as it freezes again

Shadow Ice: When the road is already wet from melting snow but the setting sun, low on the southern horizon, casts patches of spikey shadows on the wet road.  The shadow water freezes thin and slippery while the sun exposed road is dry and firm.  It makes for a corduroy pattern of icy road and dry road.

Sand Slip: In Illinois they spread salt on the icy road.  Out here they use sand and pumice.  Sometimes the sand/pumice mixture has the same color as the road.  It requires eagle eye vigilance on climbs, descents and turns so that you don't slip out and go down.

Sand Mine: That's when all three of the above conditions apply.  The road looks just a little sandy but it is actually ice thinly covered by sand/pumice. 

Update: 12/12/11:

Cloudy and raining today and nobody out this way thinks its o.k. to ride in this weather. 

So ... I rode.

Us hardy mid-westerners don't really know the difference between sunny and warm, and wet and cold. 

I added a few words to my vocabulary today: 

• Rockslide;
• Sleet/rain/snow (all one word);
• Fog;
  
• Mountain wind;
• Windchill;
• Hypothermia.

When I got home I realized that, though this is Arizona, it is winter and I'm riding in mountains.  I immediately got into a tub full of scalding hot water for half an hour.

• Time to swap the sandals for shoes and toe warmers.  
• Balaclava.  
• Rain gear.  
• Big honkin' flashing lights and irridescent ribbons all over me and the bike
• long pants
• shells over my gloves
• helmet cover.  

 So, what is this language with so many new words: Mountainese?!

One learns `road handling skills' in such conditions.

Or not.