Every year has its ups and downs, and its major milestones. But every so often something happens that is so significant that you can divide your whole cycling career — perhaps even your entire life – into “before” and “after”.

2024 started quite well; I was riding consistently, tried some new things, made a few events, but missed a few others. In the first nine months of 2024, I knocked out 7,000 kilometers, an average of 25.75 km per day.

Showing off the Austin skyline during my Pan-Mass Challenge ride.

Showing off the Austin skyline during my Pan-Mass Challenge ride.

And then there was October 4th: my stroke. Thankfully it was extremely minor, but it negated all my plans and goals as a cyclist in an instant. It reduced everything I’d done before then to history, forcing me to begin again from scratch.

The good news is that I’ve recovered remarkably well. As I mentioned in my first post following my stroke, I’ve prioritized riding the indoor trainer over riding outside. Since I got back on the bike in mid-October, I’ve logged another 2,000 km, or about 25 km per day, a rate which is almost even with my pre-stroke riding.

My plan was to get back out on the road this spring to test my capabilities. But that’s the future; for now, let me look back on the past year and give you an idea how things went both before and after October 4th.

All told, I knocked out a total of 9,250 kilometers, or the distance between London and Tokyo, or from Los Angeles to Rome. That actually surpassed my 2023 total by 1,000 km, and my riding was split 63% outdoor rides and 37% Zwift.

As for whether I met the goals I’d set for myself…

My Original 2024 Goals

Ushered in 2024 with a New Years Day Pan-Mass Challenge group ride on Zwift.

Ushered in 2024 with a New Years Day Pan-Mass Challenge group ride on Zwift.

I returned to the Fire Ant Tour metric century for a second year.

I returned to the Fire Ant Tour metric century for a second year.

Tried the Team Tacodeli group rides, but barely saw anyone but these two…

Tried the Team Tacodeli group rides, but barely saw anyone but these two…

I was again a regular at the Friday Truancy group rides, tho I struggled to keep up.

I was again a regular at the Friday Truancy group rides, tho I struggled to keep up.

Last year at this time, things were still up in the air following our move to Austin, so my 2024 goal-setting exercise was short on specifics. But I did call out three specifics areas of focus.

More 100k and Century Rides

2024 was a little better than 2023 in terms of long rides, but there were also a lot of missed opportunities.

On the plus side… I did complete two centuries: my first Red Poppy Ride, and my solo Pan-Mass Challenge Day 1. As for metric centuries, I rode my second Fire Ant Tour, plus two solo rides out to Manor, one of those comprising my PMC Day 2.

But the list of excuses and missed rides is regrettably long. I didn’t feel ready for the early-season Pedaling the Prairie or the two-day Texas MS 150. I skipped the Tour de Boerne so that I could make a rare kyūdō practice at the outdoor range. I canceled my planned Katy Flatland Century when I learned that the local Trek club was hosting a long tour around Austin, which I still missed because I contracted COVID. And my second Livestrong Challenge eluded me when I had a stroke two weeks before the event.

So I was both happy and a tiny bit disappointed with the first nine months of the year. And after my hospitalization, long rides just weren’t in the cards anymore.

Find My Group Ride Niche

I continued my frustrating quest to find enthusiast-level group rides in Austin.

Continuing last year’s trend, I regularly attended the Friday Truancy rides, making 28 of them before being sidelined by my stroke. However, for the first time in my life I was utterly incapable of keeping up with the group. So, for me, these still wound up being essentially solo rides: group rides in name only.

I did try riding with Team Tacodeli on Monday evenings, which were shorter and at a more moderate pace. I joined them five times in June, but three of those were only attended by two other riders, and once I was the only rider to show up at all! Then they went on summer hiatus, and that was the end of that. To my knowledge they haven’t resumed on any regular basis since.

So despite giving Team Tacodeli a fair shot, I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.

A Big Pan-Mass Challenge

On a much more positive note: after skipping the event in 2023, I enjoyed a tremendously successful return for an 18th PMC ride. In brief, it was:

  • My first PMC ridden remotely in Austin
  • My first PMC as a member of Team Kermit
  • My first PMC as a sexagenarian
  • The ride went really well
  • I enjoyed creating an awesome 2024 PMC highlight video
  • And I raised $7,300 for cancer research; a stunning 62% increase over my previous ride (2022), bringing my lifetime fundraising total to $130,800

My ride video and all the deets live in my 2024 PMC Ride Report.

So in terms of meeting the goals I’d set for 2024, I’d say I did okay. It certainly could have been better, but I’m still happy with how it went.

Charts

Because I kept riding throughout the winter of 2023-2024, I had virtually no drop-off in my Fitness level, as measured by my Chronic Training Load (CTL) numbers.

Previous years – including my first year in Austin – featured a lot of variability, characterized by peaks in Fitness during the summers, and troughs in the winter. In contrast, my Fitness stayed almost constant throughout 2024. Thus it wound up being my most consistent year on record, as you can see in the following chart.

Cycling Fitness: 2011-2024

To quantify how steady it was: in the decade from 2012 to 2023, the standard deviation of my Chronic Training Load averaged 16.7 – and it was never less than 11.7 – but in 2024 it was just 4.9! And it was actually a mere 3.5 before I contracted COVID in July and my stroke in October, which were the only noteworthy hiccups in my training all year.

Another way of looking at it is to compare my Fitness with my long-term average, as you see in the following chart, which zooms in on 2024:

Cycling Fitness: 2024 Calendar Year (vs. average)

In a February blogpost, I predicted that my my natural response to having rideable weather year-round would produce a much flatter curve than in previous years. I projected that my Fitness would be higher than average during the winter months, but during the extreme heat of summer it would never reach my usual peaks… and might even decline slightly from springtime highs. And that’s exactly what happened in 2024.

Basically, this is what I think it’s gonna look like to be a year-round cyclist in Austin.

The Centuries

Big turnout at the start of the Red Poppy Ride, my first century of the year.

Big turnout at the start of the Red Poppy Ride, my first century of the year.

Early morning haul down Lime Creek Road toward Volente on my 2024 Pan-Mass Challenge century.

Early morning haul down Lime Creek Road toward Volente on my 2024 Pan-Mass Challenge century.

All I can say is that two is better than one. After one lone imperial century in 2023, I was eagerly planning for Livestrong to bring my 2024 tally to three, but greater concerns intervened. But the two I did complete were:

5/11: Red Poppy Ride

Although marred by a flat tire and criminally bad route markings, this was a delightful return to long-distance riding, and a big relief after the bad experience I had on the 2023 Livestrong Challenge (blogpo). But this ride’s challenges still prompted me to invest in new tire levers and a tire jack.

8/3: Remote PMC Day 1 Century

I’ve already covered this above, but my 110th century and 18th PMC was the biggest high point of my year.

It’s still a little premature to say for sure, but it’s worth mentioning: considering my age and health issues, it’s possible this was the last imperial century that I will ever ride.

Noteworthy Purchases

This year’s spending report falls into two main categories: a ton of mostly minor maintenance stuff, and not one but two automated selfie camera drones.

The first of those drones – the HoverAir X1 – created the entire category of selfie drones, and would have been the best purchase of the year on its own, after giving me the ability to take pretty decent video footage of myself while riding.

But later in the year they released the X1 PRO, which took the groundwork laid by the X1 and improved upon it immensely. I’ll spare you the details, and instead point you to my Gear of the Year blogpost for a full writeup. But in summary, it’s a fantastic piece of equipment that I hope to make even more use of in the upcoming year.

Here’s a two-minute compilation video I made that only uses footage from the original X1. Starting next year perhaps I’ll add a new section to my year-in-review post for an annual cycling highlight video!

Beyond that, my purchases were all pretty regular stuff.

In terms of new kit, I got a new cycling jersey for riding the 2024 Pan-Mass Challenge, and ordered three sets of PMC-branded fingerless gloves. As a team rider, I also purchased a 2024 Team Kermit jersey, and received a couple PMC-branded insulated (non-cycling) water bottles that our team captain had surplused from the ride organizers.

After struggling with hydration on last year’s Livestrong ride, I picked up a bottle of SaltStick electrolyte gelcaps. I’d used them back in Massachusetts in 2010 for cramping, but hadn’t noticed any obvious benefit; however, I was willing to give them another shot in order to help me deal with Texas’ heat. Results continue to be inconclusive.

Routine maintenance included buying inner tubes, CO2 canisters, a new tire, a replacement saddle bag, helmet padding inserts, and a new heart rate monitor. Also had to replace a battery cover on my Garmin power meter pedals, which I’d over-tightened and had to destroy to get into. And I got a new electric shaver (for the legs, of course).

In hopes of alleviating some of my tire-changing worries, I replaced my Park Tool tire levers with ones from Pedro’s, and a funky tire-seating device called the Rehook Tyre Glider; but I actually didn’t get to test either of those, so I can’t say they were of any value. I also tried my hand at patching punctured inner tubes with vulcanizing glue patches, which was an almost universal failure.

So really, aside from the selfie drones, it was a pretty underwhelming year in terms of equipment.

Additional Highlights

Dramatic backdrop on the new Walnut Creek bike path extension to Manor during my PMC Day 2 ride.

Dramatic backdrop on the new Walnut Creek bike path extension to Manor during my PMC Day 2 ride.

A stunning sunset atop Turn 1 at the Circuit of the Americas F1 track.

A stunning sunset atop Turn 1 at the Circuit of the Americas F1 track.

Unlocked Level 80 on Zwift’s indoor trainer platform.

Unlocked Level 80 on Zwift’s indoor trainer platform.

Proved there was no drop in my FTP after my stroke on Zwift’s new “The Grade” hill climb.

Proved there was no drop in my FTP after my stroke on Zwift’s new “The Grade” hill climb.

Team Kermit group photo at the finish line of the 2024 Livestrong Challenge.

Team Kermit group photo at the finish line of the 2024 Livestrong Challenge.

Obviously, the highest-impact unplanned event of the year was my stroke, and starting my cycling life over from scratch. So far, my recovery seems near complete, even though I’ve kept my focus strictly on the indoor trainer so far. And I also recovered from my first bout of COVID in July.

But before my stroke, there were still some nice surprises. The Southern Walnut Creek trail was extended another nine kilometers to the town of Manor, which could serve as a gateway for rides farther to the northeast of Austin. And I made two trips down to the Circuit of the Americas Formula 1 track for Bike Nights, which is the same number of sessions I made in 2023. Sadly, illness forced me to miss their first actual post-sunset “under the lights” night ride.

Life on the indoor trainer was eventful. My Kickr CORE smart trainer got its first firmware updates in 2½ years, adding automatic calibration, which is a nice convenience. I also picked up Zwift Play handlebar-mounted controllers, which provide several convenient functions, including virtual shifting (which I disliked) and in-game steering.

Within Zwift’s virtual world, I began the year at Level 62 and finished at Level 81, although after four poorly-conceived redesigns, they’ve botched the XP system so horribly that levels just don’t mean that much anymore. In addition to an updated heads-up display, Zwift introduced a couple dozen new routes, including two small but noteworthy expansions: The Grade, a hilly section which features a short-form FTP test; and an updated copy of Zwift’s original 8 km Jarvis Island loop. So it took some work for me to reinstate my “Route Hero” status. And after having avoided the initial hoopla, I finally checked out Zwift’s Climb Portal, and had the pleasure of riding up Mt. Fuji while that route was featured back in May. Four years later, I’m still waiting for Zwift to bring it to their permanent Japan-inspired Makuri map.

But I have to call out two of my formerly-favorite vendors, who made stupid, user-hostile decisions that have me seriously reconsidering doing business with them.

Garmin Screws Its Users

I’ve been using Garmin’s portable GPS units to plan routes and record rides since 2000, using the original yellow eTrex, the eTrex Vista, the bike-specific Edge 800 and Edge 820, and about 18 months ago I picked up their newest bike computer, the Edge 840 Solar, which I reviewed here.

For the past two and a half decades, when you connected a Garmin GPS to your computer, it would appear as a disk drive that you could interact with just like any other: copying and moving files on and off the unit as desired. It was incredibly convenient, and one of my top criteria when evaluating bike GPS units.

However, a December update disabled disk access in favor of MTP, simulating an Android device that the user cannot interact with directly.

This is an immense pain in the ass for me. I have automated programs that rely on disk access to automatically save copies of my logs after every activity I complete. Furthermore, I use disk access to backup all my user data, settings, and key system files quarterly. Garmin’s change means there is no way for my programs to read anything on the device, or for me to manually copy files from it.

So far I’ve been able to decline installing the update that does this, but that also means forgoing all future fixes and enhancements. There are shareware programs that give some limited access to MTP volumes, but they’ll never be as scriptable as the simple file system disk interface.

As I said, being able to programmatically read files from the unit is one of my most important criteria when buying a bike GPS. If Garmin is no longer going to support that, it forces this longtime Garmin user to very seriously consider moving to their competitors.

Strava Screws Its Users

Despite being the incumbent athletic social network, Strava has a long history of lack of innovation and user-hostility. But this year they’ve shown a newfound ability to screw their customers.

First, there was their amateurish handling of a substantial price increase, which was never publicly announced and varied pricing dramatically by country.

Next, Strava alienated or outright forbade the API-based applications that most athletes rely on. By prohibiting third-party applications from showing one user’s data to anyone but that user, they immediately destroyed a whole ecosystem of communities that rely on their data, including athlete coaching, athlete leaderboards, and the ability to sync Strava data with other platforms. Strava has stupidly banned the very apps that make it useful to its customers!

Finally, in another completely unannounced change, Strava stepped up its effort to get rid of spammers. But in typical Strava fashion, they completely botched it. Instead of using technology to identify problematic users, they simply decided one day to ban every Strava user from using URLs. Suddenly overnight, and without any notice, any link posted in a user profile, an activity description, or a post simply disappeared, with no error message or notice. Worse yet, this was so poorly coded that even decimal numbers like “30.4 kilometers” were deleted for looking too much like those dreaded URLs!

This is all just so typical Strava, and it absolutely underscores the company’s completely user-hostile orientation. Needless to say, I’m unlikely to renew my paid subscription when it comes up for renewal next spring.

Blogposts

In recent years, I’ve had less to say in blog form, and loaded more of those things into my usual ride reports or my annual year in review. But here’s this year’s inventory:

Goals for 2025

Ornoth's 2024 cycling calendar/log

Ornoth’s 2024 cycling calendar/log

My 2024 Strava Year in Sport summary

My 2024 Strava Year in Sport summary

For the past few years, this section could have been shortened to just “more of the same”. I wish I could say the same again for 2025, but my life as a cyclist has changed at a fundamental level, forcing a complete reset in my expectations. So we start with my most basic and important goal:

Stroke & Cardiac Recovery

While the symptoms of my stroke have long passed, the followup continues, with several hematology and cardiology visits planned.

I have two more months of relative normailty, but then I will have cardiac surgery to repair a hole between my atria, and will be under doctor’s orders for absolutely zero exercise for all of March and into April.

Once I’m cleared to exercise again, cycling life will start from scratch all over again, while I first test whether I’m okay to ride, then rebuild some fitness, and finally test my endurance and learn what demands my body will still be capable of meeting.

My questions won’t have changed much since I came home from the hospital: Will I be able to participate in group rides? Can I still do a metric century? An imperial? Will I be able to trust my body again? Can I ever return to what used to be “normal”?

My 19th Pan-Mass Challenge?

Sadly, the PMC is once again a big question mark. While I really want to do it, I won’t have any idea what’s physically achievable until May, at earliest.

Even if I were in perfect health, there are still a lot of questions up in the air. Would I try to simulate the full 2-day, 300 km route? Would I still do it in August, or perhaps choose a different time? Would I ride as a member of Team Kermit or return to being a solo rider? And will I have time and energy to fundraise?

Like everything else, I won’t have any way to answer these questions until I get through my upcoming heart surgery.

More, Better Videos!

Whatever riding I do, I hope to capture it with the newer, more capable HoverAir X1 PRO autonomous selfie drone. With video quality, subject tracking, and speed all improved, I’m excited to see what I’ll be able to do with it, and equally excited to share the results with you in this cycling blog and on my Strava feed.

My trusty steed waits, ready for another summer in the Texas sun.

My trusty steed waits, ready for another summer in the Texas sun.

Some Anticipated Purchases

Having spent the past three months on the indoor trainer, I’ve been sitting on a few ideas for next year’s cycling upgrades, including the following:

On the bike: After two years and almost 18,000 kilometers, my bike could probably benefit from its first thorough tune-up. And some new bar tape.

Cycling kit: Although my current ones are only 18 months old, I could probably use a couple new pairs of bibshorts. And my Shimano cycling sandals really need to be replaced.

As for tires: I’m really tired of struggling to get my Conti GP5000 tires mounted on my tubeless-ready rims, so when they wear out, I’m going to replace them with Pirelli P-Zero tires and see how that goes. And I’m perpetually on the fence about whether I should try running lighter and higher-performance latex or TPU inner tubes, instead of the much more convenient and economical default latex. Maybe next year we’ll give those a shot; just don’t expect to ever see me going tubeless!

My Previous
Annual Summaries

2023 2022 2021
2020 2019 2018
2017 2016 2015
2014 2013 2012
2011 2010 2009
2008 2007 2006
2005 2004 2003

Conclusion

2024 started well, but ended on a sour note. The high points that I’ll remember include a very successful first solo Austin PMC ride, and the purchase and videos captured with my first autonomous selfie drone.

But by far the most defining moment of the past year was my stroke. It was a miracle that I came away from it without any significant loss of function, but also a very grim reminder that one’s time is limited, and life can disappear in any instant. And my upcoming cardiac work casts an immense shadow onto 2025 and beyond.

It’s hard to get past that realization and return to making plans and setting goals as if nothing had changed.

And at the same time, it underscores how precious every day – and every ride – is, how big a blessing it is simply to be able to get out, travel around under our own power, and experience nature and the world around us.

That’s the attitude I’ll try to bring with me on every precious ride this year as I deal with my surgery, then try to recover enough to resume outdoor riding.

Happy 2025 to everyone I share these roads with!

It was the most of times; it was the least of times. My 2023 cycling year was very noteworthy, but in ways that were mostly peripherally related to riding my bike.

Welcome to the new hometown!

Welcome to the new hometown!

On the downside, I began the year off the bike for two months due to our move from Pittsburgh to Austin and subsequent discovery of a fatal crack in my beloved primary bike of the past ten years. Then I lost another month in September for a warranty replacement of the rear wheel on my new, successor bike. I only completed one century – my fewest since 2007 – and vomited right after finishing it. Throw in a couple frustrating flat tires, the challenge of navigating a new town, and the harsh reality of turning sixty years old. 2023 provided a litany of disappointments, and my Fitness and distance numbers reflected it.

But there were a lot of major high points, too. I got a brand new bike that I love, at a steal of a discount! I replaced my old, frail bike GPS with Garmin’s newest model, which has tons of cool new features and reliable battery life! I enjoyed meeting local cyclists and exploring my new hometown of Austin, and even got to bike on a Formula One race track! At my first Livestrong century, my old grammar school friend Scott came down from New Hampshire; it was also my first event as an official member of Team Kermit, and I got to ride with several old and new Pan-Mass Challenge friends who had flown in from Boston!

From an athletic standpoint, 2023 wasn’t a superlative year, but a decent one. And I’m pleased by all the memorable stuff that did happen.

My Original 2023 Goals

At this time last year, my bike and all my cycling gear was locked away in a moving van in an unknown location somewhere between Pittsburgh and Austin, while Inna and I spent our last couple days in Pennsylvania at her mother’s apartment.

Therefore I had no idea what cycling in Austin would be like, or even what our lives would look like when we got there. So it made no sense setting any specific goals for 2023. The new year was going to be imperfect, but that meant that whatever I did achieve would be gravy.

However, I did list four general themes that I thought would be foremost. They were:

Moving and Orienting in Austin

I knew this year’s biggest change would be finding my niche in a new city, and I did okay, as outlined in my Austin On-Ramp blogpost. However, I still need to put more energy into this, in every category of knowledge. I explored a few group rides, but there are several more that I haven’t. I’m familiar with a few bike shops, but still haven’t found “the one”. I’ve done a couple big event rides, but nowhere near as many as usual. Similar to my move to Pittsburgh in 2015, I’ve leveraged Strava’s Flyby feature and other riders to find some good routes for solo riding, but my options are still extremely limited. So orienting myself and finding my crew is still a work-in-progress.

All smiles on a scorching Friday Truancy group ride

All smiles on a scorching Friday Truancy group ride

Showing off the new 2023 Æthos

Showing off the new 2023 Æthos

Celebrating another XP-filled Tour of Watopia on Zwift

Celebrating another XP-filled Tour of Watopia on Zwift

Another looming concern with the move was coping with the Texas heat, and the summer of 2023 delivered, with no less than 78 days above 37°C (100°F). I continued to ride through it, but limited myself to short rides first thing in the morning… Except for the Friday Truancy group ride, which – despite being the most congenial group ride I found – was often a challenging mid-afternoon scorcher!

I knew I couldn’t commit to riding 10,000 kilometers this year, but thought I might be good for 8,000 KM – the same as last year – which I surpassed. In actuality, I rode at an 11,000 KM per year pace for nine months of the year, but couldn’t ride at all for the other three.

Amusingly, in last year’s writeup I mused that “I might go and buy myself a new steed”. That happened unexpectedly at the start of the year, right after the move, when a local shop discovered a crack in my old bike’s frame. More about that below, where I talk about the year’s purchases.

18th Pan-Mass Challenge and $125,000

I kinda knew that I wouldn’t be able to do a remote PMC ride this year. I had no idea what I could use for a route, what the August heat would be like, whether I’d have the time to do the required fundraising, or if I’d be in physical shape for 300 KM over two days. So I bagged it, and rode a lesser substitute: joining the PMC’s visiting Team Kermit to ride Austin’s Livestrong Challenge in September. Goal deferred; I’ll reconsider this in 2024.

Zwift Level 60

I also didn’t know how much I’d use the smart trainer in Austin, but I did rack up 3,400 indoor KM, which was was more than 2022. Although it can be prohibitively hot or cold to ride in our uninsulated and unheated garage, Zwift incentivized me by creating new roads and moving the Tour of Watopia from March to October. And in December I completed my fifth year on their platform.

I advanced from Level 53 to Level 58 on my slow and painful trudge toward Zwift’s pinnacle: Level 60. Then, with a month left to the year and 85% of the way through Level 58, Zwift moved the goalposts. On one hand, they made it easier to reach Level 60 by reducing the amount of XP needed to level up by about 75 percent. But at the same time, they made it harder to reach the top XP level by tacking on forty new levels, from 61 to 100!

The easier leveling let me zip through Level 59 and reach Level 60 in a matter of days, even finishing the year on Level 62. Although I achieved my goal of reaching Level 60, it’s just not as satisfying because Zwift made the last couple steps much easier to achieve.

Health and Turning 60

On the other hand, no one made the “Turning 60 years old” achievement any easier. I definitely checked that one off, and my flagging on-bike performance showed it, as I discussed in this blogpo.

Fortunately, my time in the saddle wasn’t limited by my health. A heart monitor investigating my cardiac palpitations produced a mostly clear result, with the interesting side-note of registering a sleeping low heart rate as low as 37 BPM! Otherwise there were the usual inconveniences: threw my back out, saddle sores, saddle abrasion, and the joys of colonoscopy prep.

The biggest health question I faced was how to manage heat and hydration in order to avoid problems like I experienced on September’s Livestrong century ride. Before moving to Texas, I could easily do a century without paying much attention to that equation, but now it’s something I really need to solve.

Charts

This year I made my Fitness charts a little wider, and added red vertical lines denoting significant dates. These make it a little easier to see major changes and some context for why they happened.

Let’s begin by comparing 2023 to previous years.

Cycling Fitness: 2011-2023

There’s really three things to note here. First, due to the move, I started 2023 at my lowest level of Fitness (as measured by CTL) since January 2017. Second, 2023 continued a clear trend of decreasing Fitness highs from my recent peak in 2021. As any stock analyst will tell you, a sequence of lower highs and lower lows makes for an unhappy trendline.

And finally, my level of Fitness in 2023 was quite similar to 2018, which was my last year without an indoor trainer; a year that was hampered by tons of travel, record-setting rain, plus malaise and fatigue following the intensely challenging Dirty Dozen ride the preceding fall.

That comparison to 2018 is extremely apt. If you count by Fitness or long rides or number of hours on the bike, 2023 was my worst year since 2018.

So let’s take a closer look at how 2023 unfolded in detail:

Cycling Fitness: 2023 Calendar Year (vs. average)

The year breaks down into five distinct periods: down, up, flat, down, and up; all of it swerving above and below the grey line that represents my average Fitness level throughout the year.

I didn’t ride at all in January, while we were still unpacking from our move. In February, I brought my beloved, ten year old bike to the shop for a major overhaul, only to learn that there was a crack in the frame. I put a few miles on my old folding bike while I waited for Specialized to decide whether I was eligible for their Assisted Replacement Policy, and then procure and assemble my new steed. After more than two months off the bike, my Fitness was at a six-year low, way behind where I’d normally be.

Then the “up” phase. When I finally received my new Specialized Æthos, I rode every day for two months straight, as shown by my steadily increasing Fitness in March and April. When my consecutive rides streak ended on May 1th, I was well ahead of my usual training, and at my peak Fitness for the whole year.

I rode regularly during the summer months from May into September, but coped with the Texas summer by only doing short rides, early in the morning, and focusing on the cheeky goal of being the rider who did the most ascents (within 90 days) of the notorious Ladera Norte climb. With no major events and low riding volume, my Fitness plateaued just below my seasonal average. Summer ended with a secondary Fitness peak in September following the Livestrong Challenge, my only imperial century of the year.

But my planned autumnal riding came to a screeching halt when I discovered that during the Livestrong ride, a rock strike had broken my carbon fiber rear wheel rim. I spent the next month off the bike completely, my Fitness plummeting again while I waited for Specialized to get me a warranty replacement.

Once that was fixed, I was back where I’d been in March: spending most of the fourth quarter recovering the Fitness I’d lost during my hiatus. But similar June’s recovery, I ended the year at a tertiary Fitness peak, well ahead of my wintertime average, and that will carry over into the nascent 2024 season.

In the end, it was a year dominated by stops and starts, but I still accrued a respectable 8,250 KM of riding.

The Centuries

I rode with Team Kermit at the Livestrong Challenge

I rode with Team Kermit at the Livestrong Challenge

Ornoth limping across the finish line

Ornoth limping across the finish line

Pæthos at autumnal Lake Austin

Pæthos at autumnal Lake Austin

But it was a terrible year in terms of long rides. Between bike repair woes, lack of fitness, unfamiliarity with the area, and prohibitive Texas heat, I only attempted one imperial century in 2023. That’s the fewest I’ve done in sixteen years, since 2007.

In fact, I only did seven rides over 100 KM (62 miles): four Zwift fondos on the indoor trainer, a ride down to the Veloway and back, the Fire Ant metric, and my one century, which was:

9/10: Livestrong Challenge

While I only did one – and suffered tremendously, vomiting shortly after finishing – at least it was noteworthy. It was:

  • My first and only century of 2023
  • My first imperial century in 11 months
  • My first century in Texas
  • My first century on my new bike: Pæthos
  • My first century with my new Garmin Edge 840 Solar bike GPS
  • My first event as an official member of Team Kermit
  • My first Livestrong ride

Noteworthy Purchases

In contrast, 2023 was an incredibly productive year for the “procurement department”. With so many new toys, I’ll try to keep it brief…

Topping the list is my new bike: Pæthos, a Specialized Æthos that Specialized gave me an unexpectedly generous discount on. It’s been a very worthy addition, carrying on the performance endurance lineage that my previously-favored Roubaix model abandoned when it went all comfort/gravel/gimmicky. I’m slowly transitioning my kit to match its understated “Chameleon Oil Tint / Flake Silver” (aka black & white) design. My only complaint was the short-lived carbon wheels, which Spesh replaced after the rear wheel broke on its first century ride. Otherwise it’s been a complete delight. In-depth review here.

With a new bike came a handful of new accessories. Hearing rumors of fragility, I picked up a spare seatpost clamp and derailleur hanger in case of breakage. Frustration with flat tires led me to pick up a bunch of spare inner tubes, a CO2 dispenser, and a new Lezyne mini-pump. The latter frees up the bottle cage mount that my old frame pump occupied, so I have finally added a second bottle cage, which will be handy for long rides in the Texas heat. Also a handful of plastic disc brake spacers.

There’s been lots of regular gear replacement as well, including a new Garmin HRM-Dual heart rate monitor, and two new pairs of Craft bibshorts. The new bike needed to be supplied with 28mm Conti GP5000 tires, and a new set of name tag stickers (this time in white, to match Specialized’s own logo decals).

After the bike, another huge development was upgrading my bike GPS head unit from my decrepit old Garmin Edge 820 to the long-awaited new Edge 840 Solar. It too has been an absolute delight, so it also warranted its own separate in-depth review. Since that writeup, Garmin has added the ability for the head unit to display images and photos in incoming text messages.

In addition to new daily-wear bibshorts, I gained a couple other bits of new kit. A jersey from the Buddhist Bike Pilgrimage: a ride I completed back in 2012. And a 2023 Livestrong Challenge jersey, which I earned for surpassing $500 in fundraising. And my very own 2023 Team Kermit jersey and bibshorts. The team uniform even included my very own Kermit the Frog stuffed doll for mounting on my helmet: a traditional (but decidedly non-aerodynamic) part of the team kit.

My most recent purchase was an Ekrin Bantam cordless massage gun, which has been delightful to use, but its effectiveness and safety are still under evaluation.

And finally, the most notable addition to my indoor pain cave was Zwift’s Play controllers. These mount to your handlebars and offer lots of shortcut buttons for in-game actions. But the most useful function they provide is the ability to steer, allowing you to position your avatar in or out of the draft or take an optimal line through corners.

Big sky fulla giant Ornoths at the Fire Ant Tour

Big sky fulla giant Ornoths at the Fire Ant Tour

Bike night at the Circuit of the Americas

Bike night at the Circuit of the Americas

Red Bud Isle (more green than red, akshually)

Red Bud Isle (more green than red, akshually)

Additional Highlights

Naturally, moving to a new city produced a lot of new experiences. I rode a challenging Fire Ant 100k up in Gatesville. I got to ride on Austin’s dedicated cycling circuit, the Veloway. I spent two evenings “zooming” around the Circuit of the Americas: Austin’s Formula One grand prix track. I joined more than a dozen Friday Truancy group rides. And it was great hosting old and new New England friends on Team Kermit rides in the lead-up to the Livestrong Challenge.

Flats – and a non-functioning frame pump – were a problem this year. I had to call a Lyft rideshare to get home after a quadruple snakebite on Blue Bluff, and also walked to The Peddler for repairs after taking a screw on 51st in Mueller. Hence all the new flat-repair equipment mentioned above.

I’m tempted to list out the two dozen Strava “Local Legend” achievements I earned by being the person who rode a segment more than anyone else in a 90-day period, but that’d be a waste. I’ll just mention the two biggies: becoming LCL on Austin’s infamous Ladera Norte climb, and the Friday Truancy ride’s spiker up the Arpdale to Cedarview Kicker.

In terms of Zwift highlights, the indoor training simulator released several enhancements. You can now capture short videos of your ride and share them directly to Strava. They added their new Climbing Portal, the Scotland world, the southern coastal road in Watopia, and introduced the Zwift Play controllers and the Repack Rush steering challenge. As mentioned above, they moved the popular double-XP Tour of Watopia to the fall, and introduced some major (and frankly asinine) changes to the XP system when they unveiled new levels 61 to 100. And there are rumors of more changes in the works.

Blogposts

Goals for 2024

Ornoth's 2023 cycling calendar/log

Ornoth’s 2023 cycling calendar/log

My 2023 Strava Year in Sport summary

My 2023 Strava Year in Sport summary

I knew that 2023 was going to be a chaotic year. Looking forward to 2024, I don’t know if I can plan on it being much better. I’m still learning about Austin and what is gonna work for me here, so most of my goals remain pretty vague.

More 100k and Century Rides

For various reasons, I haven’t done as many event rides as I hoped, so next year I’d like to do more. There’ll probably be another Livestrong ride, and I’m hoping to do the two-day Texas MS Ride in April, and possibly a repeat of the Fire Ant metric. Instead of limiting myself primarily to 100-mile events, as I’ve done previously, I’m thinking of signing up for more 100-kilometer rides, which seem more prevalent and feasible for a sixty year old riding in Texas heat.

Find My Group Ride Niche

I just don’t fit anywhere in Austin’s group ride scene, which is mostly divided between flat-out hammerfests for active racers, and short, plodding social rides for non-athletes. I’m hoping someday I’ll find a ride that splits the difference, much like Pittsburgh’s Team Decaf ride or Boston’s old Quad Cycles rides. There’s got to be more mid-tier endurance and charity riders like me in this area; but where are they?

A Big Pan-Mass Challenge

2024 is kind of a big year for both me and the PMC. It will be the organization’s 45th ride, and they will celebrate surpassing the immense and impressive $1 billion fundraising threshold. For myself, it would be my 18th ride, and bring my own fundraising to over $125,000. And it’d be my first PMC as a sixty year old.

I’m committed to ride, but still stumped by what it will look like. A 300 KM solo ride in August heat doesn’t sound very feasible. I’d consider returning to Boston for the in-person ride, but that’s impossibly expensive, between airfare, hotels, car rental, and transporting my bike. Plus the $6,000+ fundraising minimum is far beyond my current ability, and I’ll have to personally cover any shortfall. I could extend my Livestrong Challenge weekend riding while fundraising for the PMC instead of the Livestrong Foundation… But that’d be in October, rather than on the traditional PMC weekend in August.

There’s just no good option, but the decision needs to be made now, as the traditional PMC route will sell out before the end of January. I wish there was a better choice.

Conclusion

So 2023 was a mixed bag. I turned sixty, said goodbye to my beloved primary bike, was off the bike for three months, skipped the PMC, and only attempted one imperial century. But I also had fun exploring my new town, rode with Team Kermit, got a snazzy new bike, new GPS, a cordless massager, and lots more.

After less than a year, my settling into the Austin scene is far from complete, so that process will be ongoing. I’m looking forward to finding more people, places, and events to enjoy in 2024. Stay tuned to hear how it goes!

… the season for a rambling update, because I haven’t shared anything since early September other than turning sixty, which you can read about here. So what has been going on? Let’s see…

As alluded to in my Livestrong Challenge blogpo, Specialized warranty replaced my rear wheel’s carbon rim after a nasty rock strike in the aforementioned ride. Summarizing my feelings about that:

Feeling ballsy

Feeling ballsy

Friday Truancy ride

Friday Truancy ride

Tour of Watopia celebration

Tour of Watopia celebration

Zwift PMC group rides resume!

Zwift PMC group rides resume!

Zwift fondo series returns

Zwift fondo series returns

  • Boy, am I glad I wasn’t running a tubeless setup, because my day would have irrecoverably ended right there. Thanks to my butyl inner tube, I continued riding without getting a flat. I didn’t even notice the break until I got home!
  • My first carbon wheel lasted just six months, or about 4,000 KM. That’s disappointing, unacceptable, and bullshit.
  • It took Spesh four weeks to replace the rim, which meant I was off the bike for a whole month during peak riding season. I need to remember that I have recourse to my indoor trainer and my folding clown bike.

In other news, I’ve purchased a couple new goodies. First is a cycling jersey from the Buddhist Bicycle Pilgrimage: a two-day northern California ride that I rode back in 2012. Read about that whole trip here.

Of greater impact (pun intended) is my one noteworthy birthday present: an Ekrin Bantam cordless vibrating mini massage gun, nicknamed my “Fun Gun”. I’ve long had lingering calf pain during training season, and addressed it by doing tapotement, a Swedish massage technique that involves rhythmically rapping on the muscle with one’s knuckles. Now I’ve got a portable device that can do that work for me, and so far I adore it.

If nothing else, this has been an excellent year for cycling purchases, as I’ll detail in my usual year-in-review at the end of the month.

On a less satisfactory note, the name decals I crowed about in this post failed miserably by de-laminating. I suspect the Texas heat got ‘em, but the manufacturer asserted that my carbon frame’s coating was still “off-gassing”. We’ll see, as I have reapplied a second set of decals.

And speaking of the heat, it got cold fast! We were in full-on summer mode until October 29th, when a strong cold front blew in and dropped temps from about 22°C to 13°C in about an hour, ushering in certifiably cold nights and cool days. Not ideal for riding the stationary trainer in an unheated garage! But other than that cold snap, the weather’s been pleasantly seasonable.

But that brings us reluctantly back to Zwift and the indoor trainer. Anticipating a warmish Texas autumn, I wanted to avoid the trainer and ride outside as much as possible. But then temperatures dropped, Zwift released some nice new roads, the Pan-Mass Challenge’s online group rides started up again, and Zwift moved the always-tempting “double XP” Tour of Watopia from March to October. So even though the weather was often fine for riding outdoors, I put the bike up on the trainer and started riding indoors again.

This year I rode 19 Tour of Watopia stages (plus two half-stages) totaling 950 KM. In the process I hit XP Levels 57 and 58, with new route badges giving me a head start on the road toward Level 59, which I will achieve this month. This year Zwift only awarded double XP the first time you completed a Tour of Watopia stage, but no one stopped you from almost completing one multiple times! In addition to the usual, regularly-scheduled group rides, this year you could also complete stages on your own schedule as free rides.

Then today – December 3th – I celebrated five years and 25,000 KM on Zwift by repeating one of my very first Zwift rides: their December fondo.

Thanks to my recent riding, I’m feeling strong and have regained all the fitness I lost during that month-long break due to my broken rim.

For the remainder of the year, I’ll be focused on reaching my 8,000 KM distance goal, trying to decide what I’ll do for the 2024 Pan-Mass Challenge, and putting the final touches on my inescapable annual year-in-review blogpo.

A rider only touches his bicycle in five places: two hands, two feet, and the most sensitive place of all: the saddle.

People are very finicky about their saddles – for good reason – and it can be difficult to predict what will work for any given rider. I have been fortunate that the stock saddles that came with my bicycles worked well for my physiology… until recently.

And this may be where we get into what might be too much information for the sensitive reader. Viewer discretion is advised. You have been warned!

Over the past year or so, after long rides – especially centuries – I’ve experienced an abnormal amount chafing around the sit bones. It’s painful, but heals over a couple days. What’s odd is that I’ve never had this problem in the past.

I was slow to look into specific causes or solutions, mostly because it took a while for me to see the pattern, since it only happened on my (comparatively infrequent) longer rides. But when I finally decided that something had to be done, the obvious places to look were my cycling bib shorts and saddle… and my shorts are fine.

But the saddle… As I said, this is the stock saddle that came with the bike. And looking back on it, I’ve put that bike through more than 24,000 outdoor miles, plus another 11,000 miles on the indoor trainer. The saddle still works fine for me, but it does show signs of wear after nine years and 35,000+ miles of use!

Specifically, the saddle’s cover is worn, with the underlying material showing through in places, as you can see in the following two photos. But that shouldn’t have any impact on its functionality, should it?

Saddle facing right
Saddle facing left

In those photos (as always, click for bigness), there are at least four different layers of saddle material showing.

The outermost layer is glossy, ivory colored, and near the saddle’s centerline. This is the original outer layer of the saddle, and probably is some plasticky protective outer coating. The second, whiter layer is the textured cover material itself, probably leather, that shows through where the clear overcoat has peeled off.

Where I’ve worn through the white leather surface is third layer that probably started as light tan, but turns a dark grey over time. And finally, beneath that are a couple rough, black, patches of hard foam-like material.

The glossy outermost protective layer is quite smooth, but each subsequent layer becomes more tacky and sticky than the last. While Lyrca bike shorts would move and slide easily on the whiter surfaces, they would adhere to the softer, worn dark patches.

And I think that’s where my problem is. While riding, as you pump your legs and move around on the saddle, your bike shorts should stay in one place on your body, but freely slide around on top of the saddle.

But if your shorts stick to the saddle then they can’t slide around, and all that movement between your saddle and your shorts turns into movement between the shorts and your skin! It’s no wonder my ass was raw after a ride of seven hours and 30,000 pedal strokes!

Testing this hypothesis was easy, because I have two other (older) bikes with saddles that are in better condition. I could just swap out the saddle and see if the problem went away.

But the timing of this revelation wasn’t great, because it was just before my planned PMTCC 3-State century (ride report), and if there’s one single inviolable canonical rule in cycling, it’s this: never change your equipment just before a major ride. So I rode the century on the old saddle; at least the resulting sores would give me something to judge the replacement saddle’s performance against!

But after the century, I made the swap, and results so far have been promising on rides of 20, 35, and 50 miles.

Kinda weird to think that I’ve actually worn out a saddle!

Of course, the replacement saddle is black, while the old one was white, which matched my handlebar tape. So I’ll have to spend some time trying to procure my preferred saddle in white, which was a rarity even before the Covid-19 pandemic obliterated the bicycle industry’s supply chain. But having a spare saddle lying around has bought me time to make that happen.

Or I could just change to black bar tape. Or red, which would also match by bike frame.

But either way, thanks to how difficult it has become to get bike parts, my steed has started looking like a bit of a Frankenbike.

Winnertime

Apr. 20th, 2020 11:24 am

At this time last year, I summarized my first winter using a smart trainer and Zwift to maintain fitness. Now this year's spring blogpost is due, even though the Corona virus and shelter-in-place orders will extend the indoor riding season into April, and May, and June, and...

But let’s start with the good news and winter happenings before turning to the more unpleasant, ominous future.

The Harrogate UCI World Champs course

The Harrogate UCI World Champs course

Epic KoM

Epic KoM

Scenic ride through Titans Grove

Scenic ride through Titans Grove

Not a bad day, for December!

Not a bad day, for December!

My Xmas gift: the Tron bike

My Xmas gift: the Tron bike

New Year's in the Italian village

New Year's in the Italian village

Combo Jersey

Combo Jersey

Halloween dinosaur on a mountain bike

Halloween dinosaur on a mountain bike

The Herd kit

The Herd kit

In the six months from October through March I rode 2,830 miles, 99 percent of them on the indoor trainer. I did one-third more riding than the previous winter, mostly because I didn’t get my trainer until December of that year.

In that time, Zwift has given us a lot of changes and additions. The most noteworthy were the addition of the undulating Titans Grove route, the Yorkshire UCI World Championship course, the short Crit City expansion, and a much needed redo of the half-baked Richmond (Virginia) UCI course. Zwift introduced mountain bikes and even tested steering in a short off-road path. And they debuted individual and team time trials, although I haven’t tried those as of yet.

And one has to mention how well Zwift have handled the dramatic and unexpected growth in usership resulting from the Corona virus lockdowns. A year ago, it was noteworthy if there were 10,000 to 15,000 people Zwifting simultaneously. Recently we’ve been topping out around 35,000: three times last year’s peak.

The biggest farce of the year has to be the Fence, a tool that community organizers have long begged for, to help keep group rides together. I found it inconvenient and fiddly. And ride leaders only transitioned their whining about fly-away riders to complaining about people merely riding close to the Fence. Plus Zwift botched the implementation so horribly that they had to withdraw the feature after a short time.

Meanwhile I made a few improvements to my own Zwifting setup. The biggest win was buying a smart outlet, which allowed me to turn on my cooling fan using my smartphone, without getting off the bike. I also wrote a background program called zwift-pic-monitor that automatically displays any screen shots I take while riding (normally Zwift saves each photo but doesn't show it). And I added a new IRL cycling jersey to my already large collection when The Herd—the club I ride with on Zwift—completed its long-awaited design.

On the negative side, I’ve been plagued by chain drops and slippage, particularly during high-power sprinting efforts. I’ve already installed a new chain, so I suspect my outer chainring is worn; however, I can’t verify or fix that at the bike shop until the current Corona virus lockdown is lifted.

That brings us to this winter's achievements; it’s quite a list.

In December I completed my first year on Zwift. Disappointingly, I never got the anniversary email they usually send out.

I finished the December 100-mile mission, the April 250k mission, the Italy and Everest challenges, the 5-stage Tour of London, the 7-stage Tour de Zwift, the 3-stage fondo series, and the 3-stage Haute Route Watopia. I rode 16 stages of the (nominally 5-stage) Tour of Watopia because they were doling out double experience points; but I only did one out of 3 stages of the Tour of Innsbruck. I earned the Zwift mountain bike & tires, acquired the Zipp 808/Super9 disc wheelset, and was awarded the much-coveted Meilenstein Lightweight wheels upon completing my 10th ascent of the formidable Alpe du Zwift.

I started the now-poorly-titled “off-season” at Level 26, and am currently at Level 38. But after two winters I’m only 56 percent of the way to the current max level (50) because it takes lots more XP to level-up at higher levels.

And then we get into the really noteworthy stuff...

After ascending 5.7 times the height of Mt. Everest, I earned Zwift’s Tron “Concept” bike. Everyone covets it because it takes a long time to get and has ostentatious glowing tires. Although noteworthy, it’s tacky and doesn’t perform any better than several “real” in-game bicycles, so it’s of little interest to me.

I earned the Masochist badge for completing 25 ascents of the Alpe du Zwift. That’s hard and also takes time to complete. A nice, respectable achievement. Tho I’ve just about given up on breaking the 60 minute ascent barrier.

I’ve already written about completing Zwift’s challenge for completing each of the in-game routes: first an initial 25 routes, then the full 67 routes. The second set was my most memorable and noteworthy achievement of the year, because it included several of Zwift’s hardest courses.

The longest of those routes was 107 miles, and I also extended the second-longest one to 100 miles. As you know, 100+ mile rides are how I judge my year. The following week I notched a third one by repeating the 33-mile Stage 1 of the Watopia Tour three times in one day.

With my usual real-world events being cancelled due to the Corona virus, I’m hoping to do rides on Zwift that match the distance and climbing of the outdoor centuries I’ll miss. The first of those was a challenging 200k (125 miles) with 8,400 feet of climbing that I completed yesterday, but that deserves its own separate blogpost. However, that means I’ve already completed four “Zentury” rides so far this year.

Mimicking my first IRL event is a segue to where my training stands now. In a normal year, I’d use this space to summarize my level of fitness and preparedness for the transition to upcoming spring events. Although outdoor riding is going to be severely curtailed, there’s still good reason to review where my fitness stands.

My Chronic Training Load (CTL) bottomed out around 50 at the end of October, as I recovered from a strained achilles, but the aforementioned route challenge motivated me to train hard through November, December, and January. By New Year's, my CTL had risen to 80, which exceeds my usual summertime peak. After those two Zenturies to complete the route challenge, my CTL maxed out at 98, setting a new and unexpected all-time fitness record—in January! Since then, I’ve let it subside back down to 75, which is still above my summertime peak form.

While recovering from last fall’s injury, I produced a disappointing 197W back in my November Functional Threshold Power (FTP) test; but in February I bounced back up to 215W, and a subsequent Alpe run bumped it up to 227W, which are both closer to what I would expect when I’m in form. I’ll see where I stand again in May.

Based on my CTL and FTP, I’m in great shape for whatever riding I'll do, indoors or out. But thanks to the Corona virus, it’ll be more of the former than the latter. All my group rides and major events in April, May, and most of June have been cancelled, and I expect that will also be the case through July at least.

It might make sense, then, to revisit the goals I set for this year. Ironically, four months ago, I wrote the following:

I don’t really expect to surpass my 2019 season, due to this year's confluence of circumstances. Will 2020 also feature great weather, limited travel, no job commitment, and an understanding partner who will loan me her car to get to distant rides? And can I continue to evade the growing concerns of age and health?

While I couldn’t foresee cancellation of the entire cycling calendar along with all other public gatherings, I was skeptical that 2020 would be as good as 2019. That was eerily prescient, huh? Barely two weeks into spring we knew that unless the trajectory of the pandemic suddenly changed, there would be no outdoor centuries for me this summer. We’re left now to do what we can with what we’ve got.

That’s why I can’t tell you how glad I am that I bought my smart trainer and started Zwifting in 2018, so that my indoor setup was up and running a year before we were ordered to shelter in place. I hesitate to imagine how stir-crazy I’d be now if I wasn’t set up for indoor riding!

But I’m not looking forward to spending one of my remaining summers inside. I already miss being warmed by the sun, fresh air, being out in nature, exploring new places, and making lasting memories. But putting miles down on the turbo is infinitely better than not riding at all… or being deceased.

Stay tuned, and stay indoors!

Over the years I’ve collected a huge number of cycling jerseys. Some are purely utilitarian, but most have some personal meaning, whether from a ride or a club or some other association.

As I mentioned in my year-in-review post, in 2019 I picked up three new jerseys, each noteworthy for some reason. And two of them violate cycling’s code of style! That's enough talking points to justify a dedicated blogpo.

 

La Vie Claire kit

My first new kit breaks both the Velominati’s Rule #17 and my own personal ethics, which is that you should never wear pro team kit unless you are a professional being paid to ride for that team. Lance Armstrong’s team kit manages to simultaneously look amateurish and pretentious when worn by a 50 year-old overweight MAMIL toodling down the local bike path.

But a jersey from a team that shut down 30 years ago, and derived from the work of designer Piet Mondrian… Well, I guess I can flex my values just that far.

So I now own a replica cap and jersey from the 1984-1990 La Vie Claire team, famously worn by Bernard Hinault and Greg LeMond during their infamous intra-team Tour de France battle. Tho to be honest, I’m wearing it primarily in homage to Mondrian.

 

Kyoto Fushimi kit

I also pulled the trigger on another kit I’ve wanted for years. It too is team issue, but for a completely fictional team: the Kyoto Fushimi high school cycling team who are among the antagonists in Wataru Watanabe’s excellent “Yowamushi Pedal” cycling manga and anime.

The Kyofushi team is led by an eerie and disturbing anti-hero character named Akira Midousuji, my favorite character in the series, with his condescending attitude, mind games, dead-fish eyes, and frequent exclamations of “Kimoi!” (Gross!) in reference to other cyclists’ riding and behavior.

Scary Midousuji-kun aside, Yowapeda is a great series, and highly recommended.

Definitely not recommended is wearing the accompanying team bib shorts, whose crotch area is white. Don’t know why white Lycra is a bad choice? Click here.

 

The Herd kit

Finally, I had to wait until after the new year for another long-anticipated item: the official Zwift Herd club jersey.

At the end of 2018, I joined Zwift and what was then called the ZBR team just as they were ordering their own custom-designed jerseys. Being new, I didn’t feel enough affiliation to get one, which was fortunate, because a few weeks later most of the group splintered off to form a separate group called The Herd, rendering those ZBR jerseys regrettably inappropriate.

Having tagged along in that move, I offered to help design a replacement, but was rebuffed. I hoped that a new design would be available for everyone to wear six months later at the group’s first major gathering at the Leelanau Harvest Tour, but the new design didn't appear until November. I promptly purchased it, then waited seven weeks longer for the vendor to deliver it. But in September I'll bring it to Toronto for The Herd’s second big gathering.

 

So those are my 2019-vintage jersey purchases. They’re all meaningful to me for very different reasons, and I look forward to sporting them on the road this spring. Except for those white bib shorts…

With my recent purchase of a thermal jacket and awesome thermal bib tights from Craft, I’ve become a lot more comfortable riding in colder temperatures. Matched with a balaclava and either thermal gloves or lobster mitts, I’m able to ride comfortably for hours at 20-40°.

Adafruit strainless conductive thread

However, there’s always been one glaring problem with cold-weather rides: full-fingered gloves make it impossible to operate my new bike computer. Its capacitive touch-screen requires contact with skin to complete an electrical circuit to determine where the touch took place.

Although not a critical issue, it was most pressing (pun intended) when relying on the computer for navigational cues. But the computer just won’t respond to fingers insulated (in both thermal and electrical senses) within full-fingered gloves.

This difficulty first came up on the 3-2-1 Ride, a chilly century along the Great Allegheny Passage. Fortunately, being mostly on a bike path, the route didn’t require much navigational work. I easily made do by just bending down low over the handlebars and operating the touchscreen… with my nose!

In later months I’d also work it by removing the computer from its handlebar mount, bringing it up to my face, and rubbing it against my nose. But after a few swipes, it became apparent that a nose just isn’t a particularly good stylus, and a smear of nose grease really detracts from a screen’s legibility.

I considered buying some newfangled gloves with capacitive finger pads, but that seemed unnecessarily expensive, since both my sets of gloves are fairly new and otherwise work great. I looked into capacitive gel and dots that you could apply to the fingers, but those had pretty poor reviews.

Finally, I decided to spend ten bucks on a bobbin of conductive stainless steel thread, sewing it through the fingertip of my full-fingered gloves, lobster mitts, and my non-cycling winter gloves.

While it isn’t perfect, the conductive thread doesn’t work too badly, doing the trick more often than not. And that’s good enough, when the alternative is stopping and taking off one’s gloves in 17° weather!

I’d generally recommend the thread. It’s not too heavy gauge, so it’s plenty flexible and easy to work with. And, of course, it works just as well with capacitive cell phone screens as it does with bike computers.

However, there are a couple things to be aware of.

There’s no need to be cheap here, so buy reputable thread. There are plenty of people out there selling fakes.

Secondly, remember that the thread works by conducting the electrical charge from your body to the screen. Thus, you can’t just sew the outside surface of the glove; you have to go all the way through the material to the inside, ensuring that there’s a good contact with the flesh of your finger inside the glove as well as the screen. When the thread doesn’t work, it’s most likely because it’s not in solid contact with your finger.

And although it’s pretty easy to work with, trying to manipulate a sewing needle in the tiny, narrow inside of a glove’s finger can be difficult. It doesn’t have to be the cleanest sewing job, but you want it to be both effective and at least a little durable, so take your time.

Do that, and you can keep your gloves on and your fingers warm, and keep the nose-grease off your bike computer!

My second year riding in Pittsburgh somehow felt both pleasantly normal as well as superlative and memorable in so many ways. Overall, I rode a ton, befriended some good folks, grew more familiar with my new hometown, set some new records, met all my goals, vanquished Pittsburgh’s hardest challenge, and had a blast doing so. Here’s my year in review…

Team Decaf group ride at the Point

Team Decaf group ride at the Point, with Ornoth back center

Ornoth crushing a hill

Ornoth crushing a hill on the Escape to the Lake MS ride

Ornoth & Monica finishing the 100k

Ornoth & Monica finishing the Pittsburgh Randonneurs' 100k populaire

Ornoth leading a pack through the city

Ornoth leading a pack through the city during PedalPGH

Ornoth descending Dirty Dozen Hill 6 (Rialto) from the neighborhood of Troy Hill.

Video of Ornoth (in black) amongst a group of Dirty Dozen riders (around 3:02) to the top of Suffolk St.

Great closeup action shot of Ornoth ascending Dirty Dozen Hill 9 (Canton Ave).

Video of Ornoth conquering the upper half of Canton Ave (10:50 to 11:00).

The tired-but-happy look of an official Dirty Dozen finisher!

Ornoth's 2017 Cycling Calendar

My Original 2017 Goals

This time last year, I set four explicit goals for 2017.

Purchase and learn how to use a new Garmin Edge 820 GPS cyclo-computer. This was the first thing I did upon getting back to Pittsburgh in February. The 820 has a lot of new features, some of which actually work. The D-Fly integration with my electronic shifters has mostly worked, despite the added drain on the Di2’s battery, and I’ve enjoyed perusing my shifting data on di2stats.com. I created my own custom data field (feet of ascent per mile) for display on the 820, and got Shimano’s E-TUBE app working such that I can update my shifters’ firmware from my phone. While the 820 didn’t live up to what it should have been, it’s been a steady performer and a worthwhile purchase. Read my full Garmin Edge 820 review.

Ride both days of the 2017 Escape to the Lake MS Ride. My partner Inna’s support made this weekend expedition possible, and it was a lovely experience. Not only did I get to complete the event and finish on the very shore of Lake Erie, but Inna and I stayed and spent an extra day lounging on the lakeside beaches of Presque Isle State Park. It was very reminiscent of my Cape Cod trips with Sheeri back when she supported my Pan-Mass Challenge rides. Read my Escape to the Lake ride report.

Complete the 2017 Woiner Cancer Foundation 3-2-1 Ride. This became a primary goal after I missed the 2016 ride during my mother’s hospitalization. In 2017, they offered a special 80-mile route to VIP fundraisers from 2016 (which I qualified for), so on October 1st I saddled up for a long, chilly, flat ride along the Great Allegheny Passage from Ohiopyle back to Pittsburgh, most of it on crushed limestone rail trail. I enjoyed exploring some new territory while further increasing the amount of money I’ve raised for cancer research. Read my 3-2-1 Ride report.

Attempt my first Dirty Dozen race. Climbing the city’s 13 steepest hills, including the steepest public street in the world, this is an immense challenge, and the city’s most infamous ride. I missed last year’s edition while caretaking my mother, but this year I participated in all the training rides, then enjoyed an immensely fulfilling and memorable ride on race day, earning hard-won lifetime bragging rights. Unquestionably the highlight of the year. See my training rides blogpost, my full Dirty Dozen ride report, and my time-lapse videos of the most difficult hills.

Additional Highlights

Achieving all my explicit goals guaranteed that I had a good year. But there was an awful lot more to 2017 on top of that…

  • Further deferring my job hunt gave me the entire year off to devote to cycling, and I made good use of the opportunity. I topped 4,000 miles for the first time since 2010. And I shattered my record for number of rides per year; this year’s 154 rides is about double number of rides I used to do in Boston.
  • I continued meeting and befriending lots of local cyclists, which has been rewarding, and one of the biggest overall themes for 2017. It’s nice when someone recognizes you, which is happening regularly now, so I’m starting to feel more like a known community member than an unfamiliar outsider.
  • I attended both the Spring Rally and Fall Rally organized by the Western Pennsylvania Wheelmen, and got a snazzy new WPW jersey.
  • I claimed 13 more tags in the BikePGH forums’ Tag-o-Rama cycling and photography game, placing me within the Top 20 players. It’s been an interesting way to learn more about the city. See all my Tag-o-Rama photos.
  • I was quoted (anonymously) in BikePGH’s summary of their survey of cyclists’ attitudes toward self-driving vehicles, and re-quoted in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette’s article covering the survey. I was righteously amused. Read my self-driving vehicle blogpost.
  • I participated in the National Bike Challenge, confirming that I’m around the Top 10% most active cyclists locally, state-wide, and nationally. Read my National Bike Challenge blogpost.
  • I joined a half dozen other BikePGH forum readers in playing Velogames’ annual Tour de France fantasy league. It was interesting, but my team selections placed me near the middle of the pack. Oh well!
  • I picked up an attractive graphic poster of the “Hell of the North: Paris-Roubaix”, which is hung above my desk at home.
  • I continued to maintain BikingPGH’s Annual Ride Calendar, as I described here, and also iterated on my paper-based cycling wall calendar. Both have been useful planning tools that I’ll continue working on for 2018. Here’s a link to the full size 2017 version.
  • I picked up two absolutely pivotal pieces of kit: a thermal cycling jacket and a pair of thermal full-leg bibs, both from my favorite manufacturer: Craft. Those have utterly transformed my relationship to cold-weather riding, and made even the 17° Dirty Dozen practice ride a pleasant experience.
  • My Strava trophy case added badges for completing climbing challenges and gran fondos for April, May, June, July, and August, plus a gran fondo for October. Ironically, despite training for and completing the Dirty Dozen, as well as my 250,000-foot climbing goal, I failed to earn Strava’s climbing challenge badges for October, November, or December!
  • That 250,000-foot goal, as well as the six centuries I rode in 2017, are highlights that I’ll discuss in more detail in the next section.

The Charthouse

Last year’s annual summary included a chart showing that my first year riding in Pittsburgh utterly shattered all the previous climbing records set during my years in Boston.

In 2017, I eclipsed last year’s record, surpassing a quarter million feet of climbing (47 vertical miles), more than double the climbing I’d ever done back in Boston. My 62 feet of ascent per mile ridden is also a new record. You can see an updated version of that climbing chart by reading my 250,000 foot blogpost.

Also in last year’s summary, I used the Strava Premium and Stravistix TRIMP “fitness and freshness” charts to tell the story of my year and put it into context with previous years, so I’ll do that again here. In 2017 I used the detailed TRIMP charts exhaustively in planning my pre-event training and recovery, which proved remarkably effective.

2017 TRIMP fitness chart

The above chart shows my fitness level over the past twelve months, with major rides highlighted. Obviously, I started the year with zero fitness after spending five months off the bike while caretaking my mother. You see a big jump when I got home in February, followed by a period of consolidation; another jump in mid-April, which kicked off a lengthy and consistent improvement leading up to my first century of the year: the two-day Escape to the Lake MS Ride in mid-June.

After finally notching that first 100-mile ride, my fitness stayed at a high level through my four summer centuries: the Akron Bicycle Club’s ABC Ride in July (a new event to me), followed a week later by the PMTCC 3-State Ride (when my fitness peaked), then August’s Every Neighborhood Ride, and PedalPGH (which were both long group rides that I extended into full centuries).

My fitness dipped noticeably during a two-week vacation in September before a quick spike for my first 3-2-1 Ride on October 1 (a long charity ride that I extended for my sixth and final century of the year).

The next two months were spent preparing for the Dirty Dozen ride, but hill climbs don’t accrue as much fitness benefit as endurance rides, so although I was gaining power, you see a jagged slight downward trend in fitness there. After the Dirty Dozen, my fitness remained high to the end the year, while I polished off my goal of climbing a quarter million feet in 2017.

2011-2017 TRIMP fitness chart

Tacking my 2017 fitness onto the end of the chart to depict my past seven seasons tells the same story in brief: beginning from ground zero, an initial kick, consolidation, and a second kick up to peak fitness. I stayed at a high level of fitness for a much longer time this year, thanks to training for November’s Dirty Dozen and my climbing goal-driven riding in December.

All that late-season riding drives the major difference between 2017’s curve and that of previous years: I’m ending the calendar year at a much higher level of fitness than ever before. Now, whether that will translate to better form next spring is an open question, and will depend on how much riding I do in January, February, and March.

I’m sure there’ll be days that call me outside for a ride, but right now I’ll happily take a couple months to rest and recover.

Goals for 2018

It feels kind of strange, but I’m going into 2018 without any major cycling goals.

Having two seasons under my belt, I’ve done all the new rides that I wanted to experience when I moved here, so I don’t feel like I have any unfinished business that needs particular attention.

I’m happy with my fitness, my equipment, my knowledge of the area, and the relationships I’ve been growing in the local cycling community.

So my overall attitude going into 2018 is: “Nothing specific, but more of the same, please.”

That said, there are a couple things I anticipate for 2018.

With a trip to Italy planned for May, I do hope to do some riding around the Tuscan hills, and hopefully spectate a stage of the Giro d’Italia, as well. That trip would probably be the highlight of my year, and it’s the only new experience I’m specifically targeting.

And there’s a rumor that GCN might be sending a crew to Pittsburgh next year, presumably for November’s Dirty Dozen, or at least a peek at the route. It would be fun to be involved with that somehow, although I’m not relishing the idea of doing that ride again!

And along the way, I’ll pass two milestones on my R2-Di2 bike seen here; I’ll eclipse 15,000 miles on it, which is just a round number, but at 16,800 miles I’ll surpass all the riding I did on my first bike—the Devinci hybrid seen here—reminding me that after five years “the new bike” ain’t quite so new as she used to was.

But other than those things, I’m happy to take 2018 as it comes. If it’s anything like how enjoyable and eventful 2017 was, I’ll have absolutely no cause to complain!

A proficient cyclist rolling down the road is an image of liquid grace, economy of motion, and effortless speed. Like a soaring seagull, otters playing in the water, a swan gliding along the surface of a pond, or deer running through a forest.

Whether it’s a seagull in flight or a cyclist on a long ride, grace comes from an organism adapting to its particular environment. Over years of training, the roadie has developed a very specific skill set, and his body has adapted to suit it.

But that seagull is not so elegant if forced to walk down a cobblestone alley. An otter trying to climb stairs is nothing but awkward. When that swan ambles down Fifth Avenue in Manhattan, he looks completely alien. And have you ever watched deer swimming in the ocean? They suck at it.

And like any other highly-adapted being, when the cyclist steps off the bike, out of his natural environment, he too loses all sense of dignity; he looks stupid.

Following that unnatural moment when he plants two feet on the ground, the illusion of grace is irrevocably shattered. He walks gingerly, like an arthritic, top-heavy mallard. He’s all gangly knees, legs, and hands. Don’t ask him to bend to touch his toes, because he can’t. His underdeveloped hamstrings barely allow him to reach his knees.

The cyclist's tan

The accoutrements that make him suited for the road—the special shoes, the protective sunglasses, the Lycra shorts, and the high-visibility clothing—all look ridiculous in an everyday pedestrian context.

But taking his “kit” away reveals an underlying reality that’s even worse. His deeply tanned arms and legs are horribly betrayed by the sad, sickly-pale areas around his hands, eyes, feet, and torso. He looks like a farmer who spends every day on his tractor, or someone who fell asleep in a tanning booth with their clothes still on! He lives in deathly fear of going to the beach, where his cyclist’s tan makes him a laughingstock.

On one hand, the cyclist looks woefully underfed, like the proverbial scrawny Ethiopian in an advertisement for world hunger relief. But at table he eats like a ravenous hawg, consuming three or four times as much food as any normal person. But people hate him all the more for it, because he never seems to put on an ounce weight.

The one enviable aspect of a cyclist’s body that doesn’t miraculously disappear is his legs. Usually clean-shaven, well-defined, and tanned bronze, they’re probably the best legs you’ve ever seen. That is, if they’re not covered by disgustingly exaggerated varicose veins…

Your average cyclist

In their daily lives, most normal people don’t pay any attention when a cyclist rides by, because the cyclist is pretty unremarkable while quietly operating in his natural element. But like that swan in Manhattan, everyone both notices and remembers cyclists when they’re walking around awkwardly, looking stupid.

However, if you take the time to really study the cyclist when he’s doing his thing, you might be surprised to see someone much like yourself, flying effortlessly down the road, mile after mile, with the grace of a dancer, the elegance of a bird in flight, and the exuberant joy of an otter at play.

And you might realize that a cyclist is perhaps not such a ridiculous, pitiable thing for people to be, after all.

By now you’ve undoubtedly seen someone using Google’s autocomplete function to gain insight into what people think about something.

Well, here’s what it told me about cycling. The lighter text on the left is what I entered into the search box, and the bold text on the right are some of the ways Google offered to complete my query, based on the questions other people have asked.

It’s a bit worrisome what people think about us, but you might find something in here that amuses.

cyclists can go for hours
cyclists can’t cook
do cyclists wear cups
why do road bikers wear jerseys
why do cyclists wear bibs
why do cyclists wear tight clothes
do road bikers use camelbak
cyclists are not rockstars
how do cyclists get big legs
how do cyclists use the bathroom
can cyclists run
can cyclists use olympic lanes
can cyclists undertake
where do cyclists pee
where do cyclists shave
how many cyclists dope
how does a cyclist dope

riding a bike is hard
riding a bike is like an art
riding a bike is an example of what energy
does riding a bike burn calories
is cycling an activated ability
cycling is the new golf
will cycling give me abs
will cycling make legs bigger
can riding a bike help induce labor
can riding a bike cause ED
can riding a bike make you taller
can riding a bike increase your vertical
why does cycling hurt my bum
why does cycling hurt my knees
why does riding a bike hurt so much
can cycling give you hemorrhoids
can cycling be countered
is riding a bike better than walking

This is the second post in a weekly series I've begun on hints, tips, pointers, and advice for other Pan-Mass Challenge charity riders. These are the things I've learned during more than a decade of participating in the PMC.

The full list of posts will be compiled and permanently available online at http://www.ornoth.com/bicycling/hints.php

Whether you're a first-timer or a longtime veteran, may you find these ideas useful, and I hope you have a wonderful PMC experience!

This week's topic is one that everyone loves: Equipment!

  • If you're riding a hybrid or mountain bike, get skinny tires. The difference in rolling resistance is very significant.
  • Clipless pedals: they're also usually a good idea. Shimano mountain bike style cleats are recessed, so they're easier to walk in than traditional road cleats.
  • Wear padded cycling shorts. Like all of the odd things that cyclists do (well, most of the odd things), there's a good reason why everyone wears them. Without underwear.
  • Sunglasses. Use them! Riding all day in moving air dries your eyes out something fierce, and glare's no fun. And I haven't even mentioned flying insects, gravel, and branches...
  • Get a water bottle with a wide mouth, so that you can stuff ice into it as well as liquid.
  • You can buy insulated water bottles at your local bike shop. They're not going to perform miracles, but they're definitely worth the small extra cost.
  • If you have room for two bottles, make one a sports drink and one water. You can always pour the latter over your head on a really a hot day.
  • If you are prone to muscle cramps, consider bringing electrolyte pills to ingest along the way. There's no guarantee they'll work for you, but they probably can't hurt. As always, test these out on training rides before the day of the event.

Next week's topic: Training!

Over the past few months, I’ve been re-reading my back catalog of cycling magazines, pulling out points that I thought were worth remembering and/or sharing. This final post contains all the stuff that didn’t fit the other categories, like travel, humor, and so forth.

  • The French-speaking Caribbean island of Guadeloupe is a great spring training cycling destination.
  • Elite pros often say that New Hampshire’s Mt. Washington is tougher than the Alpe d’Huez. It’s 7.6 miles with 2.6 miles being dirt, and an average incline of 12 percent. Long stretches are 18 percent, and it maxes out at 22 percent. Average wind speed is 35 MPH, and for decades it was also the site of the highest wind speed ever recorded on Earth. The course record is a blistering 9.6 MPH. The road is only open to cyclists on two days each year, and many makes of cars are not allowed on the mountain at all because of known weaknesses (mostly insufficient brakes).
  • Due to physiological differences, women tend to have an advantage on hill climbs, due to their leg strength and lower weight. They also excel at ultra endurance events due to their larger fat stores to power long aerobic efforts. Their lower center of gravity also helps with bike handling. Men, due to their overall strength and fast-twitch muscle fibers, typically outperform women in sprints, on the flats, in time trials and sprints.
  • When buying a new helmet or sunglasses, always test the combination, to ensure that the helmet and sunglasses fit well together and don’t interfere with one another.
  • Foam plumbing insulation, which comes pre-sliced lengthwise, is the perfect material for protecting frame tubes when packing your bike.
  • If you commute often, don’t lug your bike locks back and forth with you. Just leave them conveniently attached to the bike rack at work.
  • It’s really, really bad form to wear pro or team kit if you’re not being paid to wear it. If you are stupid enough to wear team kit, you’d damned well better be able to put the hammer down, or people will look at you as a complete poser.
  • On any ride where time matters, be sure to keep your rest breaks as short as possible. Remember this adage: “Going is faster than stopping.”
  • The cyclist’s idea of a love triangle: me, my significant other, and my bike.
  • Remember not to violate DuPont’s Law: the cool factor of Lycra is inversely proportional to the wearer’s distance from the bike.
  • Those of you who use compressed CO2 cartridges to fill your tires should remember that carbon dioxide is 52 percent heavier than air. And that’s rotating weight, which is going to slow you down.

Whenever I talk to non-cyclists about riding, two topics inevitably come up. The first is wonder that anyone in their right mind could handle being on the road with all those crazy drivers. The other is always—believe it or not—derision at cyclists because of the colorful outfits we wear.

I’ll relate one typical incident. Some years ago, a car overtook me as I approached a sharp right hand turn in the road. The car cut the apex of the turn right to the curb, as if I wasn’t even there, pinching me up onto the sidewalk. At the next light, I caught up to the car and alerted the driver—a woman who didn’t even acknowledge my presence—that she’d driven me off the road. Her passenger, a man, responded thus, “If you want to wear yellow, you should go to France”. This is how a lot of drivers think.

Now, never mind that concern over our sartorial choices is an act of high judgmentalism over something ludicrously trivial, since cyclists’ choice of clothing has absolutely no impact on anyone else’s well-being.

What really irks me is that these people are completely ignorant of the reason why cyclists wear bright colors. It’s not because we’re all gay or lacking in fashion sense or a bunch of counter-culture crazies. No, idiot, it’s so that drivers like you will actually see us.

Wearing muted earth tones—which are the only clothing that is socially acceptable to narrow-minded mainstream America—would make cyclists easier to overlook, and therefore will put them at more risk of being run down than a rider wearing garish colors.

Being highly visible is in fact the single most important factor that allows cyclists to be safe on the road with all those crazy drivers. Even following the rules of the road is kind of secondary to being seen. And it stupefies me that many drivers deride cyclists for doing something so simple and obvious to make themselves more visible and safer on the streets.

Bicycling has certain protocols. One of them is that you don’t wear team kit unless you are being paid to weat it, or can at least hammer faster than anyone else in the vicinity. Anything less would be incredbily gauche. Picture a 275-pound flab-gator tooling around, sweating profusely at 13 mph on the flat, piloting a replica of Lance’s bike, wearing Lance’s team jersey. Tack-ay. But sadly far too common.

That goes eightfold for the yellow jersey: the symbol of leadership in the Tour de France. Any cyclist who can wear the yellow jersey for real, that is the best day of his entire life, without exception. People devote their entire professional lives to earning that right. Whole squads of people devote their lives just to have the opportunity to indirectly help someone else earn that right. In the past century, only 261 people have earned the right to wear a yellow jersey.

So you can imagine how massive a faux pas it is for a weekend hacker to put on a replica yellow jersey. It’s like showing off your (replica) Nobel Prize for Literature when you’re not even professionally published. It’s like proudly displaying your “Olympic Gold” at work, when in reality the closest you’ve come to the Olympics was spending one Saturday laughing when Olympic curling was on television a few years back.

Wearing a replica maillot jaune is the single biggest act of hubris a cyclist can conceive of.

So you can see where this is going. Recently some blithering idiot showed up for our group ride in a replica Tour de France leader’s jersey. A woman. Wearing sneakers, rather than cycling shoes. Who felt the ideal accessory for the maillot jaune was a big ole fanny pack. On a cheap department store flat-bar bike. With reflectors and a kick-stand, for Christ’s sake!!!

Now sure, you can mark all that down to ignorance, but that’s some absolutely amazingly superlative kind of ignorance, unabashedly paraded out in public in a way that just demanded to be noticed. That’s much worse than nine-months-pregnant-in-your-wedding-dress level stuff.

Folks, don’t do stuff like that. Please! You’ll get spat out the back of the ride like a wad of stale chaw, and be left behind, alone on the open road but for the echoing laughter your offensive hubris earned.

Got some rants that have been building up…

Don’t wear team kit.

The pros wear advertising because they’re paid to. Unless you’re being paid to wear it, wearing team kit is tacky and arrogant. There’s nothing I enjoy more than dropping someone riding a team issue bike in full pro kit. Cycling isn’t about hero worship; it’s about being a hero, and you can only become a hero through what you do, not what you wear.

Don’t wear jerseys for rides you didn’t do.

Same thing. You have no business wearing a RAAM jersey if you didn’t race across the country, and no business wearing a RAGBRAI jersey if you bought it secondhand from someone who actually did the ride. And this rule also applies to wearing jerseys for a ride you did only in prior or subsequent years. I wouldn’t dare wear a 1998 PMC jersey when I only rode my first one in 2001.

Stop whining and ride.

I can’t count the number of times I’ve been told “I’d like to go on a bike ride with you sometime, but you’d be bored because I can’t keep up with you.” This is what is commonly known as horseshit. If you were given a chance to go jogging with Joan Benoit, would you tell her “I can’t run with you because I can’t do a whole marathon”? Do you really think athletes only have two speeds: off and 100 percent? Get over it. The only thing you’re doing is proving your own self-consciousness and insecurity.

Back in 2003, shortly before the PMC, I did the 60-mile version of the Charles River Wheelmen’s “Climb to the Clouds” ride, which goes up 2006-foot Mt. Wachusett and back.

This year’s ride was scheduled for Sunday July 17th, and I was planning on doing the 105-mile version of the same ride. I’d even gotten a friend to agree to drive me out to the start in Concord and pick me up afterward.

The day before—Saturday the 16th—rather than staying off the bike, I decided to do my usual 60-mile Quad Cycles training ride. I had an afternoon barbecue to attend out in Lexington, so it only made sense to ride out that way in the morning and stop at the BBQ on the way home. Of course, I would take it easy, to ensure that I’d have plenty of energy left for the century ride the next day.

As the miles went by, however, I noticed that I was getting more and more uncomfortable in the saddle. In fact, it was getting downright painful! By the time I got to the BBQ, my butt was thoroughly chafed and very tender.

Now, I’ve never been prone to “saddle problems”, although I did have some normal bruising at the start of the season due to my singular lack of padding for my sit-bones. However, this problem was in a completely different area, and it really stung anytime I put weight on it. So I called up my friend and reluctantly canceled the Sunday ride.

That was most of a week ago now, and things seem to have improved. I just got back from Maine, where I bought a couple new pairs of Sugoi cycling shorts, and I plan on putting those shorts (and my backside) through their paces in this weekend’s QC rides. Hopefully everything’ll be in full working order soon, because the PMC ride is only two weeks from now!

Oof! Usually I just browse the bike stores, but when I spend, I seem to do it in a big way. Today I went out to Wheelworks and picked up a new (and even narrower -- 622 x 28) set of tires, a new bottle cage, two new pairs of gloves, a new pair of shorts, and a new pair of Rudy Project sunglasses with an extra set of lenses. And the coolest thing is that almost all that stuff is blue, so it should color coordinate well with my bike and other kit!

Frequent topics