Ankles are Better Than Tails

I'm gonna `pay' for this post, mates. 

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I recently quit yet another facebook group on recumbent cycling because I got tired of insecure and crazy old men insulting one another with the geriatric equivalent of "mine's bigger than yours."  If you get my drift. 


On an initially civil series of posts from normal people about climbing on a bent a few techniques were discussed.  Relaxing the grip on handlebars; no need to slouch aero if you're doing 7 mph uphill; fast rpm for short bursts; finding your own natural rpm rhythm for those long slogs uphill; bridging to add some rest and variety to climbing muscles; ankle pedaling. 


In the past year I've found that ankle pedaling is nothing less than an amazing aid to adding speed in climbing.  (Losing 20 lbs of fat doesn't hurt, either).  It takes some careful ramping to add powerful ankle pedaling to your repertoire but it is worth it. 


Last year I was climbing the 12.4 mile nonstop incline from Skull Valley to the top of Iron Spring Road with a gaggle of uprights.  After a few miles the gaggle calmed down, having depleted their EPO and testosterone (and when THAT happens it has a diluting effect on the overwheening ego, i.e., they slow down).  Me, being of a tortoise-like temperament to begin with, I began cranking past them, one at a time.


An aside:  There is almost no greater satisfaction for a man in his 7th decade than passing ersatz testostified he-men who are panting and negotiating mortality.  I make myself close my mouth and breathe through my nose, risking oxygen starvation, blacking out, and unconsciousness, just to let them think that I'm not even breathing hard and I'm STILL flicking them off the back. 


Annnnyway.  After I'd get some distance on this gaggle I'd spy one or two accelerating to catch up to "that old fart on the cheater bike."  I'd let the lead guy get to about 5 feet from me and then I'd kick in with the ankle-pedaling.  It was cruel.  It was mean.  It was fun.  I can't wait to do it again.

I literally `felt' their ego deflating, their spirit sinking, their anger and frustration boiling over.  I felt the desire to slow down, let them come beside me so that I could say something like: "Gee!  THAT'S gotta be frustrating, huh!?"


Doing this over and over again to the same guy is even more fun.  More hostile.  Even more cruel. 


It's soooooo good.


Ankle pedaling.  I think it is better than having a tail.

I know.  I know.  I'm gonna `pay' for this blog post.  Have at it, mates.