Orny's Cycling Journal

Ornoth modeling the 2025 Team Kermit jersey.

Just as 2024 was all about my late-season stroke and return to fitness, 2025 was defined by my heart surgery in March, and my post-op recovery.

Happily, the procedure went well, and after a two-month break, I was able to resume training, taking three months to build up to a successful remote Pan-Mass Challenge ride in August, followed in November by the 100-mile Livestrong Challenge.

In the end, 2025 was a very successful year, and there were lots of milestones and noteworthy highlights along the way. Here’s my year-in-review post to distill it all down to a coherent narrative.

My Original 2025 Goals

Last December 31st, my 2025 New Year’s Eve began with a visit to my cardiologist to schedule my PFO closure heart surgery, which I learned would take place on March 7th. After that appointment, I drove home, finalized my list of cycling goals for the coming year, and posted them in my 2024 annual summary blogpost.

At that time – just months after my stroke and facing impending heart surgery – it was hard to commit to any concrete goals, but here’s what I thought made sense at this time last year, and how it played out.

Stroke & Cardiac Recovery

The Amplatzer Talisman Patent Foramen Ovale Occluder they implanted inside my heart!

Ornoth meets the sunrise, already four hours into his Day 1 PMC ride.

Taking a quick break as a freight train passes Austin's 1947 Amtrak station.

Obviously, my primary goal was to get back to full health and fitness following my heart surgery.

I was off the bike for 10 days surrounding the March procedure, and wasn’t allowed to do any meaningful training for another month. Although I hoped to recover as quickly as I could, it would be a long, gradual process, exacerbated by my bike being in the shop for an unexpected two weeks.

However, from today’s vantage point, it went miraculously well. Just 2½ months after resuming training, I was able to complete the Fire Ant Tour: a metric century. That gave me the confidence to register for my big remote PMC ride, which I completed in August. And in November I rode the 100-mile Livestrong Challenge, which I’d missed in 2024 due to my stroke.

It took me four or five months to get back to my normal level of fitness and endurance, but I’m as confident and capable as cyclist today as I was before my stroke, and that’s an immensely satisfying feeling.

My 19th Pan-Mass Challenge

Although I listed riding another PMC as one of my goals for 2025, it was with a humongous questionmark. Would it even be physically possible?

After surgery in March, I would have barely enough time to recover, train up to adequate physical fitness, and do the necessary fundraising work. Thankfully, I suffered no physical setbacks, and on PMC weekend I completed my usual two-day, 300 kilometer remote PMC ride. It was incredibly heartening to show that I’d overcome my health issues, and a poignant reminder of what a blessing it is to be able to spend a long day in the saddle.

Given the Trump administration’s 44% cuts to the NIH budget, this year’s PMC fundraising was more important than ever, and I brought in a post-hiatus and post-pandemic record of $9,450 for the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute. I chose to earmark 25% of my fundraising for the pediatric neurological cancer lab favored by Team Kermit, and the rest was unrestricted, so that DFCI can use it wherever it is most needed.

That’s all I’ll say about this year’s PMC. For my full writeup – plus my 5-minute highlight video – be sure to check out my 2025 Pan-Mass Challenge Ride Report.

And look below for my Goals for 2026 and some exciting news about next year’s PMC!

More, Better Videos!

In terms of video, I could have done better. I made limited use of the new selfie drone and its expanded capabilities, but I did capture a number of short video clips here and there.

On the plus side, I pushed out another 30-second PMC ride jersey reveal, produced another PMC ride video, and gathered many of my little clips into a second yearly highlights reel, which appears just below.

I hope to do even better next year, especially since I recently picked up a wireless DJI mic that’ll hopefully allow me to capture decent in-ride audio.

Some Anticipated Purchases

When I wrote last year’s goals, I was grasping for anything I could, so I included a “goal” of pulling the trigger on several planned upgrades. That was kinda lame, since I always devote an entire section of my annual review to stuff I’ve bought, anyways.

But briefly: I made those expected purchases, as well as several others. As expected, 2025 was an interesting year in terms of equipment; however, I’ll enumerate all that in detail in the “Noteworthy Purchases” section below.

But taken as a whole, while 2025 won’t top my list of greatest cycling achievements, I’m absolutely delighted by the success I’ve had in achieving these goals and exceeding the expectations I had, coming into 2025.

Highlight Video

Here we go: a quick 2½ minute look back at some of this year’s highlights (or at least the ones I got on camera).

For my Pan-Mass Challenge buddies, you might see how many different PMC jerseys you can count!

Charts

Let’s start this section with a new chart to understand how my cycling has changed in recent years. Here’s how many kilometers I’ve logged each year since getting back on the bike as an adult cyclist 25 years ago.

There are two things I want to call out. The first is that I’ve ridden considerably more each year after 2018. As you can see, that extra ~4,000 km per year is almost entirely attributable to Zwift and the indoor trainer I purchased at the end of that year. And that trend has surprisingly continued even after our 2023 move to Texas.

The second thing has to do with 2025 in particular. This year I logged 9,500 kilometers in the saddle, split pretty evenly between the indoor trainer (47%) and the open road (53%). It might not look like much on the chart, but despite losing a big chunk of time due to my surgery, I still rode more this year than any year since 2021!

Now let’s look at my cycling Fitness numbers, which only go back to 2011. Still, that’s a full 15 years of Fitness data, as you can see in the following chart.

Looking at this, I’d concentrate on the right half of the chart. 2017 was a normal year, but it ended with my only Dirty Dozen ride, which left me shattered, leading to a very mediocre 2018.

But at the end of 2018, I bought an indoor trainer, which allowed me to begin each spring at a higher level of Fitness, leading to higher summertime peaks. In terms of Fitness, the four years from 2019 through 2022 were my lifetime peak.

My most recent inflection point was at the end of 2022 when we moved to Austin. Two years ago I wrote a blogpost entitled “The Shape of Things to Come”, considering how my riding might change following the move. I expected my Fitness to be much more steady throughout the year, with fewer lows during the winter months and fewer peaks in the summer. And, as you can see above, that’s exactly how the past three years played out.

Now, let’s look more closely at 2025:

Having regained my Fitness following my stroke, and with heart surgery coming in March, I spent January and February doing as much cycling as I could and maintaining a fairly high Fitness level.

March and April show two consecutive dips in my Fitness, as I recovered from heart surgery and then sat around doing nothing while my bike was serviced. My Fitness plummeted to its lowest point since I bought my new bike three years ago.

In May, June, and July, I was committed and focused on steadily rebuilding my Fitness in time for August’s two-day Pan-Mass Challenge. I was overjoyed to complete it, which also marked my maximum Fitness of the year.

For the rest of 2025, I tried to keep my Fitness at a reasonably high level, including a secondary peak leading up to November’s Livestrong Challenge century. Then things fluctuated a bit in December, while I recovered from a pulled hamstring and broken toe.

The Centuries

Crossing the finish line after 100 miles of the Livestrong Challenge.

Last year, I wrote that – due to my age and health issues – I might have ridden my last 100-mile ride. I’m happy to tell you it wasn’t true. This year I trained back up and knocked out two imperial centuries. You already know what they were, but here are my ride reports:

• 8/3: Remote PMC Day 1 Century This year’s Pan-Mass Challenge was my 111th imperial century and a signal accomplishment in my recovery from stroke and heart surgery.
• 11/2: Livestrong Challenge A full year after my stroke, I enjoyed a triumphant return to the Livestrong Challenge, capping an insanely busy week that included a big concert the night before my 112th 100-mile ride.

My Year in Zwift

For the first time since the COVID lockdown, I rode nearly as many kilometers on my indoor trainer using Zwift as I did outdoors. And because Zwift usually gives me several things to talk about, I’m going to put all the Zwift-related business into this new section. And since there’s so much of that this year, I’m just gonna do bullet points.

Modeling the Level 100 jersey in front of Zwift's Austin-inspired 360 Bridge.

Ornoth (in his Didi the Devil cap) leading the PMC group ride on Zwift.

• I started the year at XP Level 81 and successfully made my way to Level 100, which is the highest you can go… for now! This was a huge achievement that was 7 years and 34,000 kilometers in the making (see blogpo).
• When I reached Level 85, Zwift sent me a free pair of Zwift Play controllers, which replaced my old ones that had been malfunctioning. But Zwift also decided to stop making them.
• Zwift started granting experience points for regular outdoor rides, with four outdoor kilometers earning the same XP as one km in Zwift. Yaay!
• Zwift held big events to introduce major expansions and new routes in France and New York City, plus a handful of miscellaneous other routes.
• By completing the “Tour Fever” Climb Portal challenge, I earned a full Didi the Devil cycling kit. While I usually wear the in-game PMC kit, my avatar still wears the skullcap with devil horns from the Didi kit.
• Zwift introduced a handful of new in-game bikes, but also implemented ways for users to earn five levels of upgrades for their bikes, and the ability to unlock (frankly stupid looking) “halo” bikes.
• They also introduced a major new long-term challenge: the Factory Tour, which eventually unlocks “lightning socks”.
• Zwift also finally added TSS points, Fitness, and Form charts and trendlines: the same data I’ve tracked and charted for the past 14 years.
• They also replaced the beloved double-XP Tour of Watopia with a new Zwift Unlocked Tour. It still grants 2x XP, but they moved the time frame from late winter (when you’re building fitness for spring) to mid-autumn (when you should be relaxing), which is disappointing.
• The PMC’s Zwift group rides decreased from weekly to monthly, and moved to 7am on Saturdays. Not a huge fan, but we’ll make it work somehow.

All this (plus the XP bonus for keeping a weekly ride streak alive) actually kept me Zwifting throughout the summer, when I would normally put the indoor trainer away. There’s no denying that Zwift has been a major contributor to both my recovery from medical issues and my overall fitness each year since 2019.

Noteworthy Purchases

It was a good year for shopping, and there’s a lot to cover. To conserve spacetime, let’s divide this year’s purchases into two groups and just list them out.

First the new kit:

• Two pair of Craft bibshorts, which were discounted by 20% after I talked with customer support
• A new pair of Shimano SD501 cycling sandals to replace my old ones
• The 2025 Team Kermit cycling jersey
• Of course, the 2025 Pan-Mass Challenge jersey
• A blue & gold Reggie Miller “BoomBaby” cycling jersey
• Doublewide wrist sweatbands for Zwifting and occasional outdoor use; although I never used to sweat, having it running down my arms has been a problem since moving south!

A lot of my cycling equipment purchases were covered in my October blogpost “Rolling Resistance”, so here’s just a quick enumeration:

• My inexplicably slow and expensive tune-up included new brake pads, chains, bar tape, and cassettes (I erroneously ordered the 30-tooth version rather than the 34), and a long-awaited firmware update for my Di2 shifters.
• New Pirelli P-Zero clincher tires were great, if prone to cuts, but TPU plastic inner tubes proved completely unusable.
• Fanttik battery-powered pocket air compressor/inflator has been a lifesaver.
• I enthusiastically recommend the Rehook Tyre Glider to easily mount & dismount even stubborn tires; I will never ride without one!
• Replaced my outer chainring, after I bent the old one when I dropped the bike.
• Installed a pair of cheap but very useful plastic enlargers for the hidden buttons on my Di2 shifters.
• A new CamelBak Podium Ice water bottle (plus a new dishwasher to clean them!)
• DJI Mic Mini Bluetooth microphone to capture quality audio to go with the video I capture while riding (to debut next year).

Finally… This might be a bit odd, but it’s worth mentioning three products that I was eagerly awaiting, but did not purchase. Coincidentally, all three were announced on the same day: September 9th! Those were:

Wahoo Kickr CORE 2 indoor trainer

My original Kickr CORE – from 2018! – is still working fine after 34,000 simulated kilometers, and the new, revised version doesn’t have any compelling improvements, other than being $250 cheaper. It can wait.

Garmin Rally 210 SPD power meter pedals

Similarly, the second generation of my power meter pedals aren’t significantly better than my old ones, and come with a 10% price increase. Plus they’re a whopping 60% more expensive than Assioma’s equivalent power meter pedals! No thanks.

Garmin Edge 850 GPS bike computer

I’m a huge fan of advanced bike computers, but Garmin’s newest generation is a big step backward compared my two year old Edge 840. Garmin cut the battery life in half; they removed the solar charging feature; its weather maps are awkward and crash the unit; and they raised the price 30-40%! Those are the kind of “improvements” I can live without.

Additional Highlights

Riding past Salado Creek on the Volksride 100k.

Friday Truancy group ride on Austin's Pfluger Pedestrian Bridge.

The Bicycle House ride regrouping at Walnut Creek Park.

Ornoth's 2025 cycling calendar/log.

Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, what else stood out about 2025? Here’s a small handful of significant bits.

Outside of my centuries, I did a few noteworthy event rides. My first long ride after surgery was June’s Fire Ant metric century (my third year). And my late-season included doing the Barrow Volksride metric for the first time. And I made it out to the Circuit of the Americas F1 track once in May, just before they closed it up for the year (they didn’t open for their usual fall dates).

Between surgery, Zwift, and event rides, I didn’t do as many Friday Truancy group rides (about 20), and when I did I was mostly alone off the back, as I’m really not able to hold the pack’s pace anymore. But I tried a half dozen Saturday morning shop rides out of Bicycle House, and those went really well (except for having to get up at 6am on a weekend).

I also reported out on my experience consulting with a nutritionist, which was marginally useful.

In one of the more noteworthy developments, I finally canceled my paid membership on Strava, which is why you won’t see my “Strava Year in Sport” summary image for this year. Although they’re the default social network for cyclists, in recent years Strava has taken numerous corporate actions that are overtly hostile to their users. I complained about them in last year’s annual summary, and somehow it got even worse in 2025! Those actions have included: banning all users from posting any links in activities, comments, or posts; claiming ownership of users’ data; surprise price increases; lack of new feature development and bug fixes, especially on the website; drastically restricting their API and thereby breaking numerous popular third-party tools and services with no warning; and filing a frivolous lawsuit against Garmin – their closest business partner and number one data provider – for requiring the exact same data attributions that Strava themselves force on their third party developers. Strava’s corporate “leadership” is deluded, out of touch, and utterly out of control, and I (along with many other users) are done giving them money to enable their asinine, hostile behavior. Don’t let the door hit you in the face as we leave, Strava!

Blogposts

I only post about once a month, but when I do, my articles are kinda long and jammed with detail. Here’s this year’s inventory, in case you wanna dig deeper into any particular topic:

• 1/7: Rolling into 2025 (a notable update to my blog’s Fitness chart)
• 3/10: Special Operations (leadup to my heart surgery)
• 4/16: I Care About Nutrition (my experience consulting a nutritionist)
• 4/24: Rode to Recovery (my progress seven weeks after surgery)
• 5/1: Why Specialized? (why I ride their bikes)
• 6/2: Event-ful… Or Not (missed some events, made some others)
• 6/18: Adamant (my 3rd Fire Ant 100 km event)
• 8/18: 2025 Pan-Mass Challenge Reimagined (just the usual brief pointer to my full 2025 PMC ride report page)
• 10/5: Rolling Resistance (lots of new equipment, especially tires & tubes)
• 10/23: Volksriden (my first Barrow Volksride 100 km event)
• 11/13: Strong Living (my return to Austin’s Livestrong Challenge)
• 12/4: Zenturion (hitting the max Level 100 after 7 years of Zwifting)
• 12/31: 2025: Ya Gotta Have Heart (my year in review: you’re reading it!)

Goals for 2026

So that was 2025. Let’s talk about next year’s goals, because now that I’m fully back, there’s some big things I’m looking forward to. Let me share ’em with you…

Surpass 100,000 Adult Cycling Miles

In the arbitrary milestone category, I am about to surpass 100,000 miles of riding since I took up cycling as an adult back in 2000.

100,000 miles is a common lifespan of the typical family car. It’s the equivalent of riding around the Earth at the equator… four times. Or perhaps it’ll make sense if I tell you that it’s like traveling the whole Oregon Trail 46 times, without dying of dysentery!

That also means I’ve averaged nearly 4,000 miles a year for the past 25 years. That’s a measure of how devoted I’ve been to this particular pastime.

With good weather and only a couple hundred miles left to go, I ought to tick this one off soon. Look for a commemorative blogpo before the end of January.

Return to Boston to celebrate my 20th PMC and $150,000 in fundraising

Yes, it’ll be my 20th Pan-Mass Challenge. Yes, I’m coming back to Boston to do the in-person ride for the first time since 2014! It’ll be my 15th traditional PMC, having ridden my last five alone and remotely in Pittsburgh or Austin. And in 2026 the PMC will be inaugurating a new starting location in Worcester, rather than the traditional (and now former) start in Sturbridge. Very exciting!

Plus, I have a huge fundraising goal: to surpass a lifetime total of $150,000 raised for cancer research at the Dana-Farber. Raising the necessary $10,000 is a makeable stretch goal, and I’m asking you and all my amazing sponsors past and present to help. Plus if fundraising goes exceptionally well, it could also mark my return for a 10th year as a PMC “Heavy Hitter”.

The PMC has always been the most important highlight of my year, but next year’s PMC is going to be out-of-this-world special, and deeply emotional. I hope you will be part of it too, in one way or another!

Conclusion

So that’s 2025 in the books.

Starting with last year’s stroke, and through my heart surgery nine months ago, I had no idea whether I’d be able to continue riding. After eight long months of uncertainty, I’ve worked my way back to full fitness and proved that – even in my sixties – I’ve still got what it takes.

Despite my age and health challenges, 2025 was a surprisingly successful and memorable year, highlighted by covering more ground than any year since 2021, strong performances in my solo PMC and Livestrong century rides, tripping Level 100 in Zwift, raising another $9,450 for Dana-Farber, as well as all the other bits I’ve mentioned in this writeup.

After nearly a year of uncertainty, today life as a cyclist is pretty much back to normal again, and that’s an incredibly rewarding and reassuring feeling.

And it’s great to be able to look forward to an exciting 2026 season, featuring a very special trip back to Boston to ride and enjoy and celebrate my 20th Pan-Mass Challenge, with renewed confidence and free of worry.

Ready? Let’s do it!

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.

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.

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…

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.

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:

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.

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.

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

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.

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:

• 2/11: The Shape of Things to Come (charting changes in my seasonal cycling pattern)
• 5/16: Poppies! (Red Poppy Ride century ride report)
• 5/10: Anty Up (Fire Ant 100k ride report)
• 8/20: 2024 Pan-Mass Challenge Reimagined (just a pointer to my full PMC ride report page)
• 9/15: Covidiocy (comparing my fitness pre- and post-COVID)
• 11/14: Livestroke Challenge (my cancelled Livestrong Challenge and cycling after my stroke)
• 12/7: Gear of the Year (my new HoverAir X1 selfie drone)
• 12/31: 2024: Second Life (my year in review: you’re reading it!)

Goals for 2025

Ornoth’s 2024 cycling calendar/log

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.

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!

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!

Last year’s 100 km Fire Ant Tour was both my first organized cycling event in Texas, and the first one on my new bike (writeup). And this past weekend it became the first Texas event I’ve repeated for a second time. I approached it with more confidence this year, having already completed my first century a month ago (writeup).

Cruising to a strong finish

Line of early starters rolling out

All blue sky and sunshine

Texas ain't all desert yanno

Since I normally only do writeups for imperial centuries – and this wasn’t one – I’ll limit myself to some brief highlights.

In an effort to avoid the afternoon heat, this year 230 riders rolled out at 7:15 rather than 8am, which meant I climbed out of bed at 4am and hit the road at 5:15 for the 90-minute drive up to Gatesville. Although it was 23° at the start, a cloudless sky promised a hot pre-solstice afternoon and a strong wind out of the south.

The first 25 km was the same route as last year, but then we veered off for a 45 km out-and-back spur toward Crawford that included 6 km of the worst “paved” surface I’ve ever ridden. After skipping the first two water stops, I pulled in to Stop 3 at 8:35 with 39 km down: more than a third complete!

After taking on some water – and nothing else, due to the disappointing selection – I got back on the road, completed the rest of the outbound leg, and turned around and went back the way I’d come. That rough section wasn’t quite as bad on the way back, but now we were fighting a 20 km/h headwind with 37 km/h gusts. At least the wind provided a little cooling, with the temperature now above 30°. I rolled into the next stop at Osage at 10am, with my GPS reading 71 km: two-thirds down!

With the heat, a headwind, tiring legs, and my hands and back aching from the rough roads, I split the final third into two legs. The remaining 30 km returned to roads from last year’s route, which included a very hard hill just before the final rest stop, where I arrived at 10:55am, with 87 km done.

After a bit of rest, I nursed it home, finishing 100 km with 636 meters of climbing at 11:30am. I was wiped, but nowhere near as devastated as last year, thanks in part to the earlier start allowing me to avoid the noonday heat by climbing off the bike 90 minutes earlier. I picked up my finisher’s medal, rested in the air conditioned civic center, and used a wet facecloth to wash off the layers of sunblock, sweat, road grime, bugs, and Gatorade (my bad: doused myself with the wrong bottle!) that had accumulated on my arms and legs.

Since event rides have been rare, it’s worth closing with some general reflections.

I was interested in my GPS’ estimation of my stamina remaining, which even at the end said my legs had another 90 km in them. Which is nice, but color me a bit skeptical on that point.

I even more closely watched my power numbers for each segment. I’m trying to be more aware and structured about not starting out too hard, and this provided some good data, as my average wattage dropped from 151 to 137, 127, and finally 97 on the final leg.

Equipment changes included ingesting electrolyte pills (the jury’s still out, but it can’t hurt), bringing a post-ride sweat towel (good idea), and my tire jack (wasn’t needed, but gave peace of mind). I chose not to bring my HoverAir X1 selfie drone, which isn’t really ideal to carry and deploy in the middle of a large event.

But overall, this year’s Fire Ant Tour was pretty satisfying. Now that I feel more comfortable with my new bike and riding in Texas, a hundred kilometers doesn’t feel like the major milestone it was at this time last year. But it was an enjoyable day in the saddle out in the wide-open farmland of Central Texas. And there won’t be many of these long organized events over the coming summer months.

Plus this was good training for my remote PMC charity ride, which is less than eight weeks away. I’d really love to have your support in raising money to eradicate cancer in this, my 18th Pan-Mass Challenge.

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!

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

Showing off the new 2023 Æthos

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.

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:

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

Ornoth limping across the finish line

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

Bike night at the Circuit of the Americas

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

• 2/10: Clowning Around In Austin (riding the folding bike post-move)
• 3/7: The Pæthos Æxpert (a brand new bike!)
• 5/4: Jalapeno Ketchup (spring catch-up post)
• 5/10: VC Sniper! (name decal vendor recc)
• 6/15: Fire Ant Cookout (first Texas 100k event)
• 7/5: Austin On-Ramp (first impressions of riding in Austin)
• 8/6: Legend on the Ladera (Ladera Norte Local Legend)
• 9/19: The Edge of the Sun (new Garmin Edge 840 Solar GPS review)
• 9/21: It's Not Easy Being Green in the Face (Livestrong Challenge & century ride report)
• 11/4: The Aging Cyclist (cycling as a sixty year old)
• 12/3: ‘Tis the Season (autumnal catch-up post)
• 12/31: 2023: Austin City Limits (my year in review: you’re reading it!)

Goals for 2024

Ornoth’s 2023 cycling calendar/log

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!

I’ve already written (here) about turning my beloved R2-Di2 over to the manufacturer’s warranty team after discovering the frame was cracked. What follows is how my bike warranty claim played out and the introduction of my new riding partner.

Assisted Replacement Program

Specialized looked at my old bike and said the crack looked like impact damage, not a defect; but they still offered me 35% assistance on buying a replacement. That was great news, since bikes over 5 years old (mine was 10) get at best a 20% discount; usually a bike would have to be less than 3 years old to get a 35% discount.

Happily, that discount could be applied to other models. Despite riding Roubaixs for the past 18 years, I’m not very enthused by the newer versions, which have abandoned the performance endurance category that I inhabit. My other options were the aggressive, race-oriented Tarmac or their new lightweight climbing bike, the Æthos, both of which have positive reputations as solid, sporty performers. I would be delighted with either of those.

2023 Pæthos

The big challenge was availability, since the post-Covid bike supply chain is still completely shot. To make the most of my chances, I pared all my criteria down to my two most important factors: at my height, I have to have a large 61cm frame; and to match the equipment and quality level of my old bike, I wanted Shimano Ultegra Di2 electronic shifting.

At first, even this stumped my rep Jack, but a national search yielded a single hit: a 61cm Æthos Expert with Ultegra Di2 sitting in a BikeSource shop in Denver, Colorado.

It took time to coerce BikeSource to part with the bike and then box it up and ship it out, but I was willing to patiently wait it out. Since my last pre-move Zwift ride: my old bike had spent three weeks in a box while we moved from Pittsburgh to Austin; then two weeks at the Trek store before they discovered the chainstay was cracked; two more weeks for evaluation at Specialized’s warranty depot; and a final two weeks to have my new bike packed, shipped, and built up. In the end, I was without a bike for over two months.

However, on 2/23/23 I drove to the Specialized warehouse and test-rode the new beast, then took it home for my first real ride on the new bike!

On one hand, picking the bike up was incredibly sketchy. I had to go to a windowless, unmarked building in Austin’s warehouse district and wait in one of two specific parking spots. I wasn’t allowed to go inside, but after texting, a young man with a bike met me at my car. After he took the bike inside for a couple adjustments, I rode it around the block a couple times as an acceptance test. Then I packed the bike into the trunk and was asked to pay by entering my credit card info at an unfamiliar website that he texted to me. It was the kind of sketchy experience you’d see in a film noir.

On the other hand, the young man – Jack, Specialized’s warranty rep, whom I’d worked with from Day One – had consistently exceeded my expectations. He’d offered a replacement discount that was nearly twice as generous as Specialized’s policy required. He was extremely knowledgeable and flexible, and he quickly found a replacement bike that fulfilled all my requirements, despite the ongoing supply chain disaster in the bike industry. He made the process easy and ensured that I came away happy and still a delighted Specialized customer.

Goodbye R2

Of course, this was also the end of the line for my old bike…

R2-Di2

That bike – my second Specialized Roubaix, which I named R2-Di2 – was supposed to come into my life on April 15th 2013. However, that afternoon was the Boston Marathon, and as I sat in my condo a block from the finish line, two homemade bombs were detonated, killing three people and injuring hundreds. Needless to say, that New Bike Day was delayed by 24 hours and overshadowed by more consequential events. Here are links to that 2013 bike purchase, plus my experience of the bombing, and its Wikipedia article.

In the 10 years since then, R2 carried me for a total of 67,500 km (or 42,000 miles), 45,000 km outdoor, and an additional 22,500 on the indoor trainer. That included five Pan-Mass Challenges: two in Massachusetts in 2013 and my three-day 2014 ride; then, after a five-year hiatus, an indoor Covid PMC in 2020, an outdoor “reimagined” ride in 2021, and a weather-induced mixture of indoor and out in 2022, all taking place in Pittsburgh. Together we ticked off no less than 59 outdoor century+ rides plus 8 more on the indoor trainer.

R2 carried me for more distance and more century+ rides than any other bike I’ve owned. Despite it being my primary bike for longer than any other, I still feel like I could have happily ridden it for another decade. Its ride quality was unsurpassed: a wonderful balance of stiffness and compliance, performance and comfort, that instilled both confidence and ease. From Day One to the end, it felt like the perfect bike for me.

And so our sudden parting had left me stunned and saddened. There was no final ride, no final photograph, nor even time for a lingering glance of appreciation for the best riding companion I’ve ever known. Just a small bag with some parts I’d wanted to salvage. I’ll miss you and mourn you and remember you always, R2.

Hello Pæthos!

But this new bike… Let’s start out with what am I going to name this beastie? After all, names are important to me, as evinced by my previous choices: the Plastic Bullet and R2-Di2.

Specialized named this model the Æthos, which reminded me of ancient Greek words like ‘ethos’ and ‘pathos’. Bringing up the latter’s definition, I found it means “suffering; evoking compassion, pity, or sympathy”. Of course, one’s relationship to suffering is the essential core of both cycling and Buddhism, so the word has particular appeal to me, having written a blogpost about the link between the three as far back as 2003, before I even started practicing meditation!

So in a nod to how suffering is an essential aspect of cycling – and Specialized’s idiosyncratic spelling – my new bike will be known as “Pæthos” (with the long ‘ā’ pronunciation).

Vive la Différence

Now let’s focus on the bike itself. I haven’t ridden anything but a Roubaix since 2005, and the Æthos is a different model serving a different purpose. That’s good for me, because the Roubaix has recently gone from a stiffness-to-weight focused sporty endurance bike into a plush cruiser, compete with a gimmicky shock-absorber mounted to its mamachari-style riser handlebar.

I clearly wanted something racier than the Roubaix’s current generation, and – to my delight – the Æthos provides exactly that. It’s not a back-shattering race bike like the Tarmac, but more of a lightweight hill-climber, with classic round tubes and tastefully understated branding and paint.

Another big way that the new bike will feel different is because bike tech and equipment have changed dramatically in the ten years since I bought my last bike. That is most evident at the back end of the bike. We’ve jumped from 10-speed cassettes to 12, and fitted a long-cage derailleur that can handle a (much easier) 11-34 cassette, when the biggest I could go before was 11-28. Though I’ll be running a (slightly harder) 52-36 on the front, rather than a 50-34, so it all balances out.

Gone are the familiar quick-release skewers keeping the wheels in place, replaced by thru-axles. And I’ve finally had to give up my easy-to-maintain rim brakes, which have been supplanted by heavier but “better” hydraulic disc brakes.

Those disc brakes enable another big change: from alloy wheels with machined aluminum braking surfaces on the rims to all-carbon Roval C38 wheels. And I’m also experiencing deeper rim profiles and tubeless-ready wheels for the first time. I suppose I’ll have to actually try running tubeless at some point, but I’ll save that for a bit further down the road.

So the Æthos incorporates a lot of changes in bike design that have come about over the past decade. Combine that with it being a more performance-oriented model than both the new and old Roubaix models, and I’m expecting it to be a significant upgrade.

First Impressions

As this goes to press, Pæthos has accrued 160 outdoor km (including a 75 km longest ride) and 300 indoor km (including a 100 km longest ride). So after nearly 500 km I think I can verify that the new bike should suit me really well. I haven’t done a century on it yet, but that will come, and I’ll be sure to share my impressions in the inevitable ride report.

Although things didn’t begin very auspiciously: I don’t know whether it was a loose install by Specialized or my own fat fingers while transporting it home, but my gears were stuck in the smaller/easier front chainring for the entirety of my 20 km first ride! Happily, the fix was simply firmly re-attaching the Di2 electronic shifting cable.

Other than that, everything has been absolutely wonderful. I’m comfortable in the saddle and the bike is more eager to climb even the steepest gradients than my legs are. If I had to give up my old bike, the Æthos is exactly what I would have chosen to replace it with.

My few niggles are all minor. Putting the bike onto – and taking it off of – the indoor trainer is a bit more work thanks to the thru-axles. The deeper wheels require a little more attention in high winds. Riding a new bike on unfamiliar roads, I’m really timid descending, but that’s on me and temporary. And I haven’t yet given it a full-power sprint test; again, I’m still un-learning the habit of not sprinting that I picked up due to my old bike’s worn and unreliable chainrings.

But those are overshadowed by the bike’s overall performance and comfort so far. It’s exactly what I wanted: something more sporty and serious than the Roubaix, incorporating current technologies, and able to eat up long miles and help me over the humps when the road tilts skyward. And that’s exactly the kind of bike I need. Pretty darned good, for an emergency replacement during a supply chain collapse!

I hope we have a very long road ahead of us!

Watch on YouTube 15-second Pæthos reveal video!

Pæthos full frontal

Pæthos head tube badge

Pæthos cockpit

Pæthos top tube branding	Pæthos cockpit
Pæthos seat tube & stays	Pæthos drivetrain
Pæthos drivetrain	Pæthos crankset

Today I said another goodbye, dropping the Plastic Bullet off at Free Ride Pittsburgh, the local bicycle repurposing charity, in much the same way as when I donated my first bike, a Devinci hybrid, eight years ago.

The Plastic Bullet at the Provincetown finish line after a 3-day trek across Massachusetts in 2010 to celebrate my 10th Pan-Mass Challenge

The Plastic Bullet appears in a hundred regional newspapers in a thank-you ad from Dana-Farber following the 2011 Pan-Mass Challenge

Like that Devinci, the Plastic Bullet had been relegated to a backup bike, and then left to a lonely retirement, forgotten in a closet. And like the Devinci, an inter-state move is prompting its final fate. Hopefully it will find some new life beyond my custodianship.

And like the Devinci, the P.B. served me very well. It was my first road bike, a Specialized Roubaix Expert that arrived in October 2005. Being a carbon-fiber frame it was immediately nicknamed the Plastic Bullet, derived from the lyrics to the Shriekback song “Go Bang!”, which also provides this blogpo’s title.

It was my primary bike for the next seven years, seeing me through 30 century+ rides, including seven Pan-Mass Challenges, my first 200 KM brevet, and my 2010 three-day 10th anniversary PMC ride all the way across Massachusetts.

It also featured in my most treasured cycling photo ever: a shot of me leading a paceline in the 2011 Pan-Mass Challenge that was used in a quarter-page thank-you ad from the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute that appeared in over a hundred regional newspapers.

The Plastic Bullet was demoted to backup in early 2013, when I splurged on my current steed, nicknamed R2-Di2. It came out of storage whenever the R2 was in the shop, and was brought along when I moved to Pittsburgh seven years ago. But it has seen virtually no use since then, and retired with a final odometer reading of 36,711 KM (22,811 miles).

Before the Plastic Bullet, I had always been a bit of an outlier as a road-riding enthusiast riding a flat-bar hybrid bike. But the Plastic Bullet allowed me to fit into my niche and complete my transition into the roadie that I am today.

It’s hard to say goodbye to something that was such an important part of one’s life for so long, but it’s a good opportunity for me to practice with the laws of impermanence and non-attachment.

And it also opens a bit of space for someday welcoming a new resident in my stable of bicycles, which is a distinct possibility once I get a better idea what the riding is going to be like in Austin. After all, no cyclist should have to live with owning n-1 bikes!

Sunday September 3 was Mercer County Trails’ annual Pedal the Lakes ride. It was my fifth century of 2022 – eclipsing last year’s total – and my 106th lifetime. So it’s time for a ride report…

I rode PtL in 2016, 2018, and 2019. Following a break during the pandemic, they changed the route and moved the start to Lake Wilhelm. Back in June, the organizers also ran a “Tour of Mercer County” that set out from the PtL’s former home at Riverside Park in Greenville; I had intended to ride that this year, but they decided to withdraw the 100-mile distance option at the last second.

Sunrise over Lake Wilhelm before setting out on the 2022 PtL ride

Swoopy Lake Wilhelm bike trail

Western Pennsylvania farmland

Pymatuning Reservoir dam gatehouse

However, the redesigned PtL did offer a century distance, although riders could only do that by completing their 50km short loop, returning to the start, and then completing a longer 110km loop.

For the most part, the new route didn’t use many roads from the old one, and the few duplicates were traversed in the opposite direction, which often completely changes the experience for someone traveling by bike. We would still hit the Pymatuning Reservoir and Conneaut Lake, but Lake Wilhelm replaced the Shenango Reservoir, and we’d forgo the leg into Ohio to touch Mosquito Creek Lake.

I got up and hopped in the car around 6:30am for the 75-minute drive north and learned that my partner had left me with an eighth of a tank of fuel. That required a side stop for gas in Grove City, undermining my plan to arrive at the start early.

I pulled into the Goddard State Park marina at 8am and checked into the ride. Out of a couple dozen century riders, I was one of only two who hadn’t already signed in and rolled out. The weather was mostly cloudy, but unlike my previous PtL rides, there was no autumn chill, and I was looking forward to a day spent exploring the picturesque western Pennsylvania countryside. I took a late “sunrise over Lake Wilhelm” selfie and set out at 8:30.

The shorter 50km loop began by crossing long-but-narrow Lake Wilhelm on a causeway, then following a bike path 10km southward along the eastern bank of the lake. I saw almost no riders, so it was very quiet, and a pleasant 19º despite being heavily wooded. The path featured occasional views of the lake, several small wooden bridges, and lots of swooping ups and downs that attested that it was definitely not a converted railroad line!

After emerging onto regular roads I pulled into the Stoneboro FD rest stop just after 9am with 16km done. I didn’t need fluid, and the selection of snacks was underwhelming, so I simply said hello, recorded my ride commentary, and rolled on.

The remainder of the 50km loop headed west and north – inland into farmland – before returning to the starting point. The scenic countryside was gently rolling, punctuated with a few small dips and climbs into and out of valleys cut by small streams. There were lots of quiet roads and false flats where one could fly along at 48-42 km/h, which effortlessly ate up the 36km segment in no time.

At 48km century riders had a choice of either saving 8km by immediately joining the outbound 110km route or returning to the marina to completing the full 50km route and beginning the full 110km route from the start. As a completist, I chose not to take the short cut, finishing the short loop at 10:30 in exactly two hours, having ridden 52km and accumulated 460m of climbing. I used the opportunity to hit the bathroom and stop by my car and pick up a frozen bottle of sport drink.

With my century ride now one-third done, I turned around and set out on the longer 110km loop. There was a lot of high haze in the sky, but occasional patches of blue, and the temp had climbed to a still-ideal 23°. 

A long 36km first segment of the big loop took me north and west across country. The air was a little warmer than before, the headwind was a little bit stronger, the farms were a little less scenic, the hills were a little bit bigger, and the legs were a little more used up. As I told my voice recorder, “It’s just becoming a little less of a pleasant touristy ride.”

At 12pm I pulled into the rest stop at the southern end of the immense Pymatuning Reservoir. Despite feeling that I was slowing due to fatigue, I’d covered 90km in 3½ hours, which is an excellent pace for me. Despite making good time, I still hadn’t seen many other riders, which again speaks to the head-start I’d given them by setting out late. Knowing I was already behind on solid food, I downed a chocolate chip cookie and stuffed another one in a jersey pocket, where it would leave a crumbled, melty mess.

The Pymatuning Reservoir is shaped like a boomerang, and the next leg went from the tip of the southern arm across country to the far north-eastern arm. I wistfully rode past the winery that was the lunch stop on the old PtL route and had featured catered pizza and donuts; the ride offered nothing so delicious this year. I stopped briefly to take some pictures at the causeway that crosses the reservoir, where tourists and seagulls flock to see thousands of carp that clog the spillway. It’s allegedly the second most popular tourist destination in all of Pennsylvania, trailing only the Liberty Bell. Then across country to the tony resort town of Conneaut Lake. As you might imagine, these areas were all a lot more built-up, with commensurate traffic volumes and speeds, making for a less pleasant ride.

I hit the Conneaut Lake rest stop at 1:40pm with 126km done and 1,000m of climbing, and met up with a family of four people riding just the longer loop (not the century). I rested for 10 minutes, chatting while munching two bite-sized cookies. The volunteer manning the stop confirmed that I was indeed the last of the century riders.

The penultimate segment was thankfully short, flat, and included a brief stretch on a wooded bike path. But the final rest stop was bizarre. It was a few hundred meters of gravel off the main road, at a seeds-and-biomass facility, where a cooler had been left outside on a card table, and devoid of any attendees save for one huge, geriatric golden retriever. Being well into “survival mode” already, I happily raided the cooler for any remaining ice.

It was 2:30, so I was exactly six hours in. And with 140km under my belt, there was just the final 20km back to the marina. When I wondered aloud whether the last two hills were going to be as bad as they looked on paper, a grimy old man suddenly popped up and said, “Oh yeah, they are!” That was enough to prompt me to saddle up and skedaddle back to the main road.

The next 10km was me crawling over those two evil hills and through a village called “Custards”, nursing all the aches and pains in my butt, the backs of my knees, my right calf, and right big toe.

Then, just when you thought the pain would be over, I realized that I was just about on track to complete my century within seven hours, which is something of an achievement. So the final 10km was me burying myself, in an all-out time-trialling effort, tapping whatever strength I had left to break seven hours.

The odometer tripped 100 miles on the return over the causeway across Lake Wilhelm, just a few hundred meters before the marina, where I stopped at 3:34pm. I’d completed the century (162km) in seven hours exactly, with 1,371m of climbing, and a 25.5 km/h average speed.

So that was the ride… Now for some final observations.

Back before the pandemic, Pedal the Lakes was always a nice, relaxed late summer / early autumn ride: a final long expedition of the year following the hectic insanity of July and August. It was really nice to get back to that.

The new route has pluses and minuses. There’s less busy roads, a lot fewer painful oil-and-chip surfaces, and the lakeside bike path was interesting. Having the century ride comprised of two loops was fine, with the shorter loop being more scenic, but the longer loop including more lakes. Even though much of the course is delightfully flat (-ish) I do think you need to be well-prepared for this one, with those two big 100m climbs in the final 20km.

I will say that I’m a little disappointed in the support, although that’s mostly due to far exceeding my expectations in previous years, when we were treated to brownies, donuts, fresh pizza for lunch, and chocolate milk at the finish. And there was no ice available, except for what residue I could scoop out of a couple drink coolers. Perhaps because of that, I suffered by not eating enough: the equivalent of about two cookies during a 3,100 kCal effort.

I remain divided about my own performance. On the down side, I felt like my stamina and my legs didn’t hold up quite as much as I would have liked, and I wound up trailing the other riders by some unknown margin. On the other hand, I finished feeling reasonably strong and set an objectively good time. Those two contradictory aspects just don’t add up well in my head.

All that aside, I really enjoyed the ride and would certainly do it again. It was a wonderful tour of the western Pennsylvania countryside, and a fun day out on the bike, albeit riding solo.

And, as usual, it’s a fitting end to cycling’s high season, and a segue into the more relaxed, less stressful rides of autumn. I’m looking forward to that!

Sunday was my third century of the year – the PMTCC 3-State Century – and for the first time in five tries, it wasn’t boiling hot. My previous editions were in 2016, 2017, 2019, and 2021.

I left the house at 5:45 to get to Neville Island for check-in and a planned 7am depart. It was a pleasant 17° and overcast, and I chatted with riding buddies Phil and Gary and Oscar as we waited for the group to roll out.

Ornoth & Phil at Tomlinson Run SP

Phil, Ornoth, & Gary at the start

Phil on Longs Run Rd

Ornoth & Phil receive their finishers' medals!

Immediately after crossing the Ohio River backchannel into Coraopolis, the shorter metric century riders split off from the few of us who were doing the full imperial century. Although the organizers said there were fourteen registered, our initial group numbered just seven – including Phil and I – and that was reduced by one when the sole woman in our group fell off the pace on the first climb.

The first leg was identical to last year’s route, featuring a stupidly hilly 22 KM loop up the ridge into Moon and back down a screaming descent back to Coraopolis before going downriver a bit and climbing right back up and over the ridge to the first rest stop.

We pulled in with 40 KM complete in 2¼ hours. I shed my arm warmers, hit the porta-potty, downed some chips, and the only sport drink they had on hand: Gatorade Zero. Why the hell would you offer a zero-calorie sport drink on a hundred mile bike ride?

After the rest stop came the first of two route changes for this year. Instead of staying on Route 151 / Bocktown Road, the route took Longs Run Road, a back road that paralleled it for about 6 KM. It was heavily wooded and scenic, with huge imposing cliffs looming over the road at one point, but much of it had degraded into loose gravel, so it was slow going on a road bike.

We returned to Bocktown Road briefly before turning onto busy Route 30 and passing the highest point on the route, which was followed by the second, larger change from last year. Last year we left Route 30 and cut across West Virginia to New Cumberland and then up the Ohio River; this year we didn’t quite go that far, instead riding down Gas Valley Road to Tomlinson Run State Park, then riding back up to Route 30.

The transition from Pennsylvania’s terrible roads into West Virginia was just as noticeable as last year, although the roads inside the state park were still pretty bad. We circumnavigated the pond that was the park’s central feature and I got a selfie with Phil (top), whom I’d been riding with all morning. We made our way back up to Route 30 and had just started down to screaming descent into Chester WV when I took a big, black bug right on the bridge of the nose.

We pulled into the “World’s Largest Teapot” rest stop at 10:47am with 82 KM complete. We were making good time and it was still only 22° and windless, making for ideal riding, even if the lack of sun made it less than spectacular visually. Like last year, all the climbing came in the first half of the ride, so it would all be flat and easy on the back half as we made our way upstream along the Ohio River. We had leapfrogged the other four century riders from time to time, and since the metric riders had passed through earlier, there weren’t many other riders behind us. Unfortunately, the rest stop was out of everything but water, which is just about the only thing that could be worse than Gatorade Zero!

The third segment featured the same terrifying crossing high over the Ohio River on the decrepit Newell Toll Bridge as last year. The less said about that the better; if you’re curious, go back and read last year’s ride report. I want to block it out of my memory as quickly as humanly possible. Then 8 KM of lousy Ohio roads were followed by 7 KM of terrible Pennsylvania roads before we pulled into the Subway lunch stop in Midland PA. It was 11:50am and I felt it could begin sprinkling at any minute. I dumped the water out of my bidon and replaced it with cola, downed a small meatball sub, and wistfully deferred getting a Dilly Bar from the Dairy Queen that shared the building.

From there it was up along River Ave in Beaver and back across the river into Monaca. After a two-minute rest we headed down the high-speed Route 51 highway, where Phil did a good portion of the pulling. I was just starting to feel the effort in my knees and neck, but was only just starting to tire. Then back across the river into Ambridge and our final rest stop at Sweetwater Bikes. We’d covered 133 KM in 6½ hours, and it was still a pleasant 25°, although we’d felt the first sprinkles as we were crossing the bridge. A mini cinnamon bite and more pointless Gatorade Zero, and we were back on the road.

The drizzle kept coming off and on as we made our way through Sewickley, across the Ohio once more into Coraopolis, then back across the backchannel to Neville Island and our starting point. But we were far from done. In order to add mileage, the official route did a big extra 9 KM loop around the heavily-industrialized island. But even then, we’d still be short of the official 100-mile mark, so Phil and I planned to keep going until we could claim an official century, even if the rain had picked up and we were both wet and dirty.

And so, with just 8 KM left to go, I found myself rolling along at speed, crossing the fourth or fifth set of train tracks on the island. But this one crossing featured big, wide, deep rail beds. I tried to jump the gaping holes, but you can’t jump three sets of rails, and I came down and hit the edge of one of the cement rail beds hard, causing a slowly-leaking pinch flat.

Fifteen minutes of wet, grimy work later, Phil and I had replaced and re-inflated my rear inner tube, after discovering that my spare tube was defective. Between the rain and my flat, it was a frustrating end to what had otherwise been a good day. We finished the “official” route by going back to the start, where I pulled my floor pump out of the car and topped up my tire while Phil got our finishers’ medals from the organizers.

Then we set off for a second loop around the island to complete our century. The sprinkles had stopped and the roads were drying out. We ticked over 100 miles almost exactly at the place I’d flatted on our previous circuit, then rolled back to the cars to pack up and head home. 164 KM at a 24.4 KM moving average and 1,524 meters of climbing. Although we’d completed the ride in 6:43 moving time, it was 3:15pm, so we’d been gone nearly 8¼ hours of clock time thanks to my flat, the long stops, the climbing, and the rain.

Thanks to the moderate temperatures, I finished feeling very comfortable and strong, which bodes well for next weekend’s remote Pan-Mass Challenge rides. My only physical complaint is a blister I gained on top of my left foot, which was probably due to irritation from my cycling sandals combined with rain and road grit. I’ll have to care for that over the coming week.

I will say that I’m noticeably slower this year, especially while ascending, which is understandably frustrating, but not the end of the world, considering how scarily the year started. There was always going to come a time when I stopped being able to keep up with the pack, and it’s probably good to accept that as I approach 60 years of age.

And with that, the stage is set for next weekend’s “remote” Pan-Mass Challenge. Even at this late date – the ride is in four days – I’m still trying to work out what my ride will look like. This is a very busy week, and I’m nervous about both the weather and the course. Hopefully I’ll be able to relax and be flexible enough to let the ride be a positive experience.

And, of course, if you have not yet supported my ride by making a donation to the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute, I’d be delighted if you could contribute something. While the actual ride looms large in my mind right now, the most important thing is advancing cancer research and treatment: a cause I’ve been riding for since 2001. Please give here.

Whether I’d ever ride another century has been in question since the chest pains I had back in January. Since then, I’ve slowly increased the distances I’ve been doing, and on Tuesday completed my first 100-mile ride in eight months.

Ornoth and the Allegheny River and Pittsburgh skyline

Ornoth riding in Highland Park

Ornoth and the Ohio River with Pittsburgh's skyline

R2-Di2 at Mon Wharf with river tug hauling coal barges beneath the Fort Pitt Bridge

Right after my last update in April, I spent eight days in Austin, but was disappointed that I never got to do any cycling down there (full trip report here). I’ve been ramping up since then, including Team Decaf group rides every Tuesday, doing some weekend rides with my buddy Ben, and knocking out a couple 100ks.

But that really didn’t answer my health concerns, nor help me decide whether to commit to upcoming major events or even another remote Pan-Mass Challenge this year. With these questions gaining urgency, it was time to put myself to the test with a long ride.

I’d considered doing my familiar route up to Saxonburg, Butler, and back, but that was made impossible by a huge freight train derailment in Harmar that closed Freeport Road indefinitely. So I fell back on another favorite: along the Monongahela River on quiet Bunola Road down to Mon City. I’d fill out the full 100 miles by starting with a circuit around Pittsburgh and down the Ohio River bike path, and also include a side spur up the Youghiogheny to Boston. And before you ask, “Youghiogheny” is an Indian word that literally translates to “stream that runs the wrong way”.

Knowing it was going to be a hot, sunny day, I applied a layer of sunblock and set out early. It was already a comfortable 19° at 7am. 

The first segment took me north to the Allegheny, then on a relaxed circuit around Pittsburgh, down the Ohio River bike path to the penitentiary and back. It was a very picturesque morning, and there were numerous stops for photos: overlooking the Allegheny in Highland Park, downtown to capture the skyline, watching a ferry take cars across the Ohio, and a river tug pushing coal barges underneath the Fort Pitt Bridge. Setting the theme for the ride, I think I passed every tugboat, train, and bunny rabbit there was to see in all of Western Pennsylvania.

The GAP trail to McKeesport featured two separate sets of senior citizens on bicycles trying to kill me, especially the moron near Sandcastle who was single-mindedly playing with his bike computer while riding in the oncoming lane, oblivious to everything around him. The temperature had climbed to 24° and my sweat-slimed and sunblock-sticky arms and legs were quickly coated with road grime and midges.

Leaving the trail, I followed the Monongahela on the sketchy road segment from McKeesport through Glassport and Elizabeth. Then the surprisingly quiet, undulating, riverside bliss of Bunola Road and across the bridge to Mon City just after 11am. After picking up some Gatorade, Funyuns, and Twizzlers at the local Sheetz, I moseyed over to Mr. Dick’s Aquatorium for my mid-ride break. I watched one river tug pull away and another one dock while munching my lunch.

With 94 K complete, I was about 60% done the ride. I’d rationed my effort and felt pretty good, although my neck and upper back were starting to hurt. Now reaching 28°, it was a classic summery day, and I was drenched in sweat. The promised afternoon headwind was just starting to pick up, but I figured I’d be okay if I watched my effort level, tried not to overheat, and caught up on my hydration. Unwisely, I’d only consumed one 26oz bottle of sport drink over four hours of riding, so I tried to make up for that.

Mounting back up, I backtracked up Bunola Road to McKeesport, then followed my familiar route along the Yough to Boston. Along the way, I was harassed by a vigilante driver in Glassport, somehow avoided a pinch-flat while jumping a curb in McKeesport, nearly got thrown from my bike in front of an oncoming car by a huge pothole on the dirt road approaching Versailles (“vur-SAYLZ”), and fought off leg cramps on the three-block 13% climb up to Walnut Street.

After a brief rest, I left Boston at 1:30pm with 130 KM on the odometer. Historically, I usually start to struggle about 80% of the way through century rides, and this was no exception. My power and speed dropped precipitously, so I stopped at the Kennywood water fountain to refill my bottle and doused myself with water to cool off. With nothing left in the tank, I continued on in purely survival mode.

When I got to Homestead, I stopped at the GetGo gas station for a cola and ice, only to discover their ice machine was broken. The cola – and a text message of encouragement from Inna — kept me going for the remaining distance up to the Hotmetal Bridge and the trailhead, where I poured more water over myself, contemplated the stupidity of living at the summit of a 110-meter climb, and phoned Inna solely to delay the inevitable. At least I was on the doorstep of 161 KM and wouldn’t have to tack on any additional wandering around to complete a full century.

Century complete, I crawled up the 8% grade on Forbes Ave, then passed my house and went down around the “Fruit Loop”, my usual 2-kilometer cooldown. That was probably a mistake, because my legs finally cramped up, forcing me to limp gingerly home. I arrived at 4pm and promptly used our garden hose to completely douse myself in cold water – the first time I’d ever thought to do so, and it was utterly delightful!

Although I finished 167 KM (103 miles) in exactly seven hours of ride time, that had taken nine hours of clock time, which is a pretty lame performance, especially for such a flat course. I climbed 940m, and my normalized power was 141W, or 1.8 W/kg.

My most immediate lesson learned is to do a better job hydrating and fueling. One bottle in the first four hours is not enough, even on a day that isn’t sweltering. I would have done better had I not sabotaged my own performance.

But overall, it was a great ride. It was a beautiful summery day, and the warm sunshine was delightful… until it wasn’t. And it was great getting my first legit century of the year in.

As I mentioned up top, this was an important test for me, to determine if I could plan to take part in my usual major events of the summer. The bottom line there is that yes, I’m still capable of completing a century, but that I still need more training and conditioning if I want to finish in comfort.

Sadly, it’s both too late and probably not advisable for me to undertake this weekend’s 2-day Escape to the Lake MS ride, but I’m giving serious thought to the following weekend’s “Sunday in June” over in Ohio. That ride consists of three loops that all begin and end in a central location, which provides convenient opportunities to abort the ride early if needed. Then there’s nothing on the schedule before the second week in July.

Which leaves the final question about whether I am going to sign up and ride my 17th Pan-Mass Challenge (again, remotely). This proves I’ll be physically capable, but the next question is whether I want to. The fundraising can be onerous, but I should have a couple weeks to myself to focus on it. To be honest and transparent, it’d be an easier decision if this year’s PMC event jersey wasn’t such a bland, stock design. But in the end, so long as physical limitations don’t prevent it, I’ll probably register, because the cause still resonates. I should still get another long ride under my belt before I decide, but watch this space!

Four years after successfully conquering Pittsburgh’s infamous Dirty Dozen ride (documented here), I’m still suffering PTSD. So instead of training up and riding this year, I once again chose to photograph the riders, as I did in both 2018 and 2019.

It made perfect sense. After doing eleven indoor centuries in 2020, this year I just wasn’t motivated for the intense training that would be required. On top of that, my bike’s in pretty bad shape thanks to the unavailability of replacement parts due to supply chain issues. As if that wasn’t enough, this year had pretty typical Dirty Dozen weather: cold drizzle and temps in the 40s.

So I packed up my archaic dSLR and hit the slopes on foot, hitting four strategic locations: hill #6 Logan, hill #9 Canton, hill #10 Boustead, and hill #12 Eleanor. Yes, the numbers have changed, because of tweaks to this year’s course; Berryhill is back in, but the route still begins with Christopher, which this year stands in for Rialto, which was declared too difficult and dangerous to use.

During the long waits between grouped categories of riders, you often find yourself recognizing and/or chatting with other folks who have come out to spectate. At Eleanor, this year I chatted with an aspiring future Dirty Dozen rider named Ryan who had pored over my 2017 writeup to learn about the ride and the course. It’s always a delight when I find someone who has benefited from any of my writing, and especially my Dirty Dozen and Pan-Mass Challenge reports, so that was one of the day’s several highlights.

This year I came home with 414 photos, a tiny sampling of which appear below. To see the rest of my 86 curated shots, go visit my 2021 Dirty Dozen Flickr album. And for previous years, here are links to my 2019 blogpost & 2019 Flickr album, and my 2018 blogpost & 2018 Flickr album.

And as always: click for teh bigness.

View the Full Album