True That

As I described yesterday, I was out on Ride #5 when my rear brake began giving me trouble that I couldn't fix.

I ride a cyclocross bike, so the brakes are caliper brakes.  Cyclocross can be a muddy sport, and these brakes are pretty easy to clean:

Caliper brakes, rear view.

Caliper brakes, side view.

Since I've been in LA (the 5 rides I've described here, and some casual pedaling I did before I started this blog), my rear brakes have been giving me trouble.  I'll ride without a problem for miles, then suddenly (usually after a downhill section), they'll start rubbing on the edge of the wheel.  They are rubbing in the 'right' place (where they should when the brake is actually being applied), but just resting too close to the wheel.

When this happened, I'd use 2 tricks to fix the problem.  [Caution: I am a cycling newbie, not a bike mechanic.  I figured these out through trial and error.  They are certainly not the only - and may not even be the best - ways to deal with this problem.]  First, I'd make sure that the brake lines were moving freely.  Usually, this meant grabbing the triangular part (where the lines from both sides come together) and giving it a gentle wiggle:

Grab triangle, move gently left and right.

Secondly, I would adjust the relative position of the brake pads using these little tiny screws on the side of the brake:

Not the big one at the top, but the little one down at the bottom.

If you have a multi-hex-wrench tool for bicycles, there should be a wrench on there that fits.  Adjust a quarter turn, then spin the wheel to see if you've improved the situation.  Repeat as necessary.

Together, these two tricks would generally get me back on the road.  But on this most recent ride, nothing I did had any effect, except to get my hands all greasy/brake dusty.  Lovely.  Thankfully, I was only a few miles from my car, so I rode directly there, loaded up my bike, and took off for home.

I banished the bike to the corner at home, and moped for a day or two.  I was slowly realizing that this rubbing, which I'd been dealing with for weeks, wasn't really supposed to be happening.  This wasn't normal.  

Furthermore, letting the bike hang out in the corner wasn't especially productive, either.  So one evening, I put on some junky clothes and set out to investigate the situation further.  I was already suspicious that something might be wrong with the wheel: When I released the rear brake watched the wheel spin freely (bike upside down), it looked a little wobbly.  

To unclip the brake, grab the brake pads and squeeze.

The brake line on one side can be released (or will pop out on its own).

Now, turn the bike on its back and spin the wheel.
(Be sure to go in reverse if it's the rear wheel!)
Stand behind the bike, and watch the wheel.

Furthermore, when it caused a problem, the brake only rubbed for half a rotation, then didn't touch the rim for the other half.  To me, this indicated that there was something asymmetric about the motion of the wheel.  I did a little research, and realized that maybe my wheel wasn't 'true' (precisely circular and in one plane) anymore.

A bicycle wheel can become 'untrue' after a fall, after hitting a pothole, or following any other kind of insult to the wheel.  Apparently, this is pretty common in bicycles, and my bike had already tipped twice recently.  I also already had 2 symptoms of 'untrueness': The wheel looked like it was wobbling when it turned, and only one side of the brake was rubbing, and only for part of a rotation.  I performed a third test:

Be sure the wheel is properly and evenly attached to the bike.
Hold a marker firmly against a stable part of the frame,
with the tip just touching the wheel's rim.
(Here, I am resting the marker on the brake.)
Give the wheel a good spin.  Observe what happens with the marker.

In my case, I could actually feel the wheel get closer to the marker (pushing against it harder), and move further away (some spots on the wheel never touched the marker).  At this point, I was convinced: My rear wheel wasn't true.  And lacking the expertise/tools to fix it myself...I needed to find a bike shop.  

*shudder*

Ride #5: Marina del Rey Loop

*NOTE: I've recently expressed my new-found enthusiasm for cycling, for example here and here.  This ride pre-dates that enthusiasm.  :)
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On this morning, I had planned to piggy back several rides together.  All three loops intersected, so after 23 miles on the South Bay Bike Path, already described here, I stopped back at Dimitri (my car).

The stop was brief, but long enough for my bike to be knocked over by a stiff ocean breeze.  I leaned the bike against the car while I checked my route directions.  Wind blew.  Bike keeled over. Stupid #1.

And because I wanted to be in contention for the 'Jerk of the Week' award, I bumped the car next to mine with Dimitri's door when I leaped out to my bike's rescue.  [Really.  What was I thinking?  It wasn't exactly like I was gonna change anything at that point. Bike had already succumbed to gravity.]  Stupid #2.

The car door bump was very light and didn't appear to do any damage (yes, I checked), but I still felt like a jerk.  Even better?  The owner was still sitting in the car, talking on the phone.  Next thing I know, he's getting out of the car.  


My brain: I TOLD YOU CYCLING WAS DANGEROUS.
Me: I'm not even on the bike. Shut up.
My brain: YES BUT YOU'RE ABOUT TO BECOME A VICTIM OF PARKING LOT RAGE.
Me: No damage.
My brain: HE'S BIGGER THAN YOU.
Me: Shut up.

He checked his car and didn't find any damage.  I apologized profusely.  He was as nice as could be expected.  Once he was satisfied that his car was OK, I quickly and sheepishly jumped onto my bike, and hightailed it out of there.  

Two Stupids in two minutes is a bit high, even for me.  Still, I didn't really see any of this as foreshadowing of what was to come.  That was either Stupid #3, or plain old optimism.  Without further ado, let's get to the details:
 

Date: 7/31/2012

Time: 1 PM

Weather: 75F, Overcast

Route: Start at Ballona Creek Bridge/Enter South Bay Bike Path/L Trolley/L Pacific/Cross Ballona Creek Bridge/R on Ballona Creek Bike Path/L at gate/R Fiji/L on bike path/Cross Admiralty/Cross Washington/Join bike lane/Turn around at Venice Fishing Pier/R Pacific/L Via Marina/R Washington/R on bike path/R Mindanao/Loop Marina parking lot/R on bike path/ R Fiji/Follow roundabout/R onto Ballona Creek Bike Trail/Cross Ballona Creek Bridge

This route is from Where to Bike LA, Ride #28, except I started at the Ballona Creek Bridge, rather than Venice Fishing Pier.  Click here to see the Garmin data from my ride.

Distance: 11.3 miles

Time: 50 min

Avg Pace: 13.5 mph

Ride Description: The ride started well enough, covering part of the South Bay Bike Path that I'd just ridden, but I'm a stickler for completeness, so I rode it again.  Early in the ride, I noticed my rear brake was rubbing a bit, so I paused to fiddle with it.  I adjusted the relative tension in both sides of the brake (using the tiny screws on the sides of my caliper brakes), and made sure the brake lines were moving freely.  The problem seemed to get better, and the rubbing stopped.  

I crossed the bridge and set out on the Ballona Creek Bike Path for a short time, before turning into Marina del Rey, another SoCal beachside community.  I hopped on another (apparently unnamed) bike path, and crossed 2 small and 2 major roads in less than 2 miles.  Slow down, stop, look, pedal, repeat.  Grrr... 

Overall, this part of the ride was choppy and disconnected.  I got lost when the bike path turned into a parking lot.  I dismounted to cross at a cross walk (no cross street, but the bike lane was on the other side).  You get the idea.  This would be OK if I were looking for a flat, easy vacation ride around the area, but as someone looking to really ride, the stop-and-go was pretty annoying.  But I tried to settle in and enjoy the experience instead.

Finally, I joined a road with a bike lane for the final 1.5 miles to the Marina del Rey pier, which was pleasant but rather boring, as SoCal Piers go:

Yeah, OK. The beach. A pier.  But it was rather annoying to get to and my rear brake was starting to rub again, so I was cranky and unimpressed.

This is how it looked in the other direction (typical SoCal beachside):

Parking kiosk, a few small eateries, a hotel, and cars.

This ride was a lollipop, and second half of the 'pop' was significantly more scenic and fun than the first:

The roads were quiet, the ocean was near, and there were some unique houses.

I enjoyed the few miles on this section, before getting back on the annoying road-crossing bike path.  This time, I was doubly peeved because my rear brake was still rubbing, despite some stop-light attempts at adjustment.  Uncool, brake - uncool.  I tried another quick adjustment, to no avail.  So when I got to Burton Chace Park (follow Garmin link above to see map), I removed some gear...

Step 1: Take off All The Things...

...and flipped the bike over:

Step #2: Prep bike for examination...

I peered oh-so-closely at that rear brake caliper:

Step #3: Wail ineffectively, "WHHHHYYYY?????"

I should note that this brake has often given me trouble, but usually with some gentle adjustment, I can find a "non-rubbing" sweet spot.  But on this particular day, none of my usual tricks worked.  As the wheel turned, one caliper would rub for about half of the rotation.  

I thought and thought about this, and it didn't make much sense: How could it only rub for half a rotation?  I spun the wheel and watched it turn.  I thought it looked a little funny, a little wobbly (even though the quick-release was firmly fastened).  After about 10 minutes of exasperated ineffectiveness, I decided to call it a day.  

I rode back the last 3 miles with a rubbing brake, grumbling the whole way.  I loaded the bike into the car and posed for some pouting photos:

No more riding for us today.

And with that, I cancelled the third ride I'd planned for the day.  It was time to go home for a mechanical check.  Boo.

Interesting Happenings:
1. Have you ever walked your bike into a beach bathroom?  This felt totally normal to me.  I mean, if it were a baby, you'd surely expect that I roll the stroller in, right?  So what's wrong with me rolling my bike in??  There was plenty of space, so I blithely ignored the odd looks.  [By the way, if you ride a beach path in LA, you will always have a bathroom nearby.  This is awesome.]



2.  During my time in the bikes lanes in Marina del Rey, I witnessed several manuevers made by 'vacation cyclists' who had no idea how to handle themselves or their rented bikes in traffic.  Seeing cyclists do dumb things bothers me as both a motorist and a cyclist.  Cyclists who behave badly (whether intentionally or out of ignorance) endanger themselves and the other nearby cyclists - or the next cyclist that a pissed off driver encounters.

I do wish that the bike rental companies would at least attempt to equip their renters with a few basic safety tips.  For example: "If you're going to ride in the bike lane, act like a car (follow lights, not walk signs)". 

Cyclists: Please know the rules, and follow them! 

3. I consoled my post-ride self with lunch at a local hangout: Tanner's Coffee Company, where I enjoyed a sandwich (mediocre), coffee (good), and some post-ride surfing (of the internet variety). Not a bad spot to stop if you're riding down here.

Lessons Learned:
1. Holly, would you put some paper towels in the car already?!?!  This bike maintenance is a messy business, and LA lacks abundant fallen leaves that can double as towels in an emergency.

2. Along similar lines - Holly, please only purchase dark-colored cycling tops in the future.  Grease stains will be far less visible.

3. The sun is strong, even when it's cloudy.  Holly, please remember this from your lifeguarding days.  Hello, shorts tan.
 

Lingering Questions:
1. What gives, bike brakes?  These shenanigans are totally not cool.  And why are you only rubbing half the time?  I'm starting to wonder if my wheel isn't true anymore.  This seems consistent with the symptoms.  I'll have to do some research when I get home.  Thank goodness for the interwebs...

Waiting...

Oh, man.

It's happening again.

My poor bike is leaning against the piano, begging for some fun.

I'm sitting at home, waiting to sign for a FedEx package.  Can't leave, because unfortunately, I don't think FedEx will deliver to "the girl on the bike", address " at the intersection of dirt and paved path, near the horse ranch, southern side of Griffith Park".

[And that's probably a good thing.  Riding back home with a Poang chair cushion would be exciting.  Cruising down from the Observatory with that item strapped to my back would probably result in my taking flight.]

But I was out of  town for 4 days last week, and the un-portability of a bike is seriously annoying.  While I managed to sneak in some running on my jam-packed trip (thank you, treadmill), I didn't bike one bit.  And now, I'm itching to get back out.  

So, here I wait (and work, and blog) for my delivery.  Extra delicious?  I ran 12 miles this morning, but am afraid to hop in the shower, on the off-chance that the driver arrives during the 6 minutes I'm indisposed  Thankfully, we don't have any pets - and our plants don't mind that I smell.

Stinkily and productively yours,
"I'd rather be cycling" Holly

 

Eating Machine

When I finish a long run, I usually need ~8 hours before I'm really ready to demolish a heavy meal.  Until then, I force myself to eat the things I know I should be eating - but I keep it as cool & light as I can get away with, from a refueling perspective.

This morning, I rode 50 miles.  My Garmin (set for my height, weight, etc.) calculated that ride to be worth about 2,300 calories.  I don't really pay this number much mind, but...I haven't stopped eating since I got off the bike (at 2 PM).  Over the last 4 hours, I've consumed:

1 glass lemonade
1 Luna bar
1 PB&J sandwich
1 Quaker granola bar
2 cups pineapple chunks
16 dried seaweed strips
1.5 cups strawberries
1 medium caeser salad
1 cup corn chowder
16 oz chocolate milk
~zillion oz water

And I have to stop there, because I'm coaching in an hour.  While the temp is dropping and the pace will be easy, none of us (them or me) really want to revisit any of this food.

But don't worry.  I still have dinner to eat later tonight!

Does cycling make anyone else this hungry...?

Could it be...? Oh yes, I think it is!

It's 6:30 PM on Monday night, and I really want to go for a bike ride.  Like, really  really want to go.

Not like "I want to blog about it so I want to go," but like "I just want to get on the bike and gooooooo!  Please???"

I spent much of today in Pasadena, and had hoped to sneak in a ride out there.  But my car was too full for my bike this morning, and by the time I finished working in our overheated storage locker, I was woefully dehydrated (despite an entire Nalgene & large iced honey tea).  

Now, it's 6:35 PM on a Monday night, and I'm wondering/hoping/bargaining with daylight to sneak in a quick 10 miles.  

• The worst of the rush hour traffic should have died down by now, right? 

• My husband won't be home for another hour or two at least, right?

• I ate a bunch of watermelon when I got home, so I should be hydrated enough, right??

Guys, I am wheeling and dealing with myself to try to get my ride in.

This is amazing.  I wasn't sure that this day would ever come.  But it has. It's here.  

So:

LOOKOUT LA, I'M GETTING ON MY BIKING SHORTS!!

You Never Forget Your First Time (Facing "Flat Fear")

"PSTSSssssssssssssssssssss..........."

This is not the sound I want to hear as I pedal hard down Myrtle Ave in Montrose.

But hear it I do, and my second-to-worst fear as a cyclist comes true.  I have a flat. On the road.  Alone.

I am 12 bikeable miles from the car and 15 freeway miles from home.  My husband is at work, also 12 miles away from the car (and without car keys or viable public transport options to get to the car).  It is 6:20 PM, and the sun is starting to go down. 

I border on panic-mode.

*deep breath*

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Back when I starting casual cycling (in Rochester), I was sort of paralyzed by Flat Fear.  I'd ride short distances, or multiple small loops near people/businesses I knew, or only when my husband was in town and "on-call" in case I needed a car rescue.  He wasn't in town much - so I think I rode the 20-mile Flower City Challenge loop exactly once before race day.

I had the proper equipment: tire levers, tubes, and CO2 cartridges.  I had the brain smarts: I'd attended a flat tire clinic, and had even changed my own flats before, when my bike went on a tube-popping-in-the-middle-of-the-night streak.  But the first of these was at home, with unlimited time and YouTube.  The second was done pre-ride and with the assistance/company of Mr. Gustavo G-L Z, who treated the whole thing like it was no more trouble than brushing off a pesky fly: release the tire, remove the tube, check the tire, insert the new tube, pump, and voila!  You're done.  

What I didn't have yet was confidence.

But I didn't think I'd find this confidence in safe, close-to-home loops.  So when I moved out to LA, I made the conscious decision not to be limited by Flat Fear.  People cycle long distances all the time.  They change their flats. So could I. And off I went (with supplies & cell phone in tow).

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 *Exhale*

The moment had come to put myself to the test. 

So I did the first thing any smart cyclist would do: I called my husband, told him where I was, and asked him to help me figure out if I was near a bike shop.  [Cue the first time I have ever - EVER - wished my Stupid Phone were a Smart Phone.]  For you non-cyclists, note that walking in cycling shoes isn't easy, or pretty.  So for the purposes of this discussion, "near" was something like "less than a mile, and preferable more like two blocks, away".  There were, in fact, several bike shops within a 1 mile radius; but they all closed at 6 PM.  Thirty minutes ago.

He offered to put out a "Facebook Call For Help", to see if any of his friends could come pick me up.  I was too proud to go that route, yet.  So I assured him I'd be fine, and was just going to change the tire myself. *coughcough*just*coughcough* [Voice in my head: "Eeep!"]

Man down! Man down!

I pushed down panic, put on my Big Girl Panties, and got started.  I removed the front wheel easily - that's how she rides in the car, so I do that part all the time.  Then, I remembered that my tire levers got lost somewhere between Rochester and Los Angeles.  After fighting to pry the tire up over the rim, I had a flash of insight: I could use my keys as a similar lever.  This worked (almost) like a charm, and pretty soon one side of the tire was out.  

I removed the tube and was absolutely unable to find a hole (oh, well).  I thought back to my YouTube video education, trying to remember any small steps I was forgetting.  I checked the tire, inside and out, for anything that would've caused a puncture.  Nada.  I got the new tube in pretty easily and replaced the tire (Gustavo talked me through this part, in my head. Thanks, G!). 

The culprit.

Now, all that stood between me and the rest of my ride was: the CO2 Cartridge.  And I'd never done this part before.  I wasn't quite sure what triggered the CO2 release, so I handled each step very carefully, screwing on the adaptor, fitting it over the valve, expecting an explosive release of CO2 at any moment.  But there was just...nothing.  Nothing.

Dear CO2, Where are you??

So, I fiddled. I channeled my best fiddling and problem-solving abilities, as honed by years in a research lab.  And then, AHA!  See that little spring up there?  That controls the release of the CO2.  When the spring is compressed, CO2 is released.  Man, that is brilliantly engineered.  So I fitted the green part over the valve, and squeezed. My fingers got COLD, but my tire got FULL!

I was so surprised that I nearly fell over.  Seriously.  It freaking worked!!!!  There was joy, on that little section of sidewalk, I tell you. JOY.  I think I did a happy dance.  I nearly stopped the next passerby to say, "Hey! Hey! Look what I just did!"  I refrained, as I preferred to avoid police involvement at that point.

I put in a bit more CO2, but was afraid of popping the new tube, so I stopped well short of max pressure.  But that was OK - the tire was full enough for me to ride the 12 miles back to the car.  Fueled by giddy pride and racing the setting sun, I set a pretty good pace on the return trip. 

To be honest, the whole experience was slightly terrifying.  And I can't swear to you that I'm now a genius at tire-changing.  But I can tell you that there is nothing in the world like facing a fear and emerging having conquered it.  

I'm no longer afraid of a flat.  I changed my tire once, and I can do it again.  Stupid as it sounds, I think I walked a little taller for the rest of the day.

And now, I want to share my knowledge with every biker who's ever let Flat Fear hold him/her back.  You can do it!  I did it, and so can you!!  

But when you get down to it, that's the catch.  I can preach it all I want, but until you go out and change your first solo flat, you won't fully believe that you can do it.  

I am planning to do a flat-tire-change post with lots of details in the future.  But for now, be fearless.  Go to a clinic, go to your bike shop, ask your biking friends.  Learn the academic parts of it.  Make sure you have the right equipment, and a phone in case things go badly.

Then put on your helmet, and ride fearlessly into your first flat.  With a little practice, a little luck, and a little guts, you too, will pedal victoriously out the other side. 

Ride on, friends!

[The rest of the details about this ride - Ride #8 - coming soon.]

Quote-spiration I

It's easy to do the things you're good at...



...but considerably more rewarding to conquer the things you struggle with.

Reasons Biking Rocks, #1

I'm a runner at heart.  But after a 4-month vacation full of ~15 mile weeks, I've been spending the summer in a slow base-rebuilding mode.  This is good, and safe - but sometimes leaves me feeling a little bored.  My runs are at conversational pace, and my primary mental struggles are to keep things easy, and to avoid piling on too many miles too fast.  Very seldom have I had to harness my mental fortitude to push through a hard workout.  Boring, yes.  But "These intervals HURT and I don't know if I have two more left in me", no.

However, I'm finding that I can build bike time much faster. When I was getting started, I'd ride for an hour, then an hour and a half, and now I'm up to two hours - over the course of just a few weeks.  I could do such a ride a few times a week, if I wanted - and I feel confident that I could go out for a three or four hour ride today, if my schedule allowed. I've done all of my bike work thus far without acquiring any worrisome twinges, tweaks, or pains.

Sure, my quads get sore, and I have to stretch my hips out every day.  Sometimes my back aches a bit.  But my feet, ankles, IT bands, and hips have been very accepting of my new habit.   

Of course, a longer/harder ride will leave my legs feeling fatigued.  And so, I recently had a revelation: I can harness this fatigue to make my runs more challenging.  Once or twice a week, I can safely ride myself to tired legs, then enjoy a more challenging run on these legs.  This is not dissimilar to running the final miles of a long run at goal-marathon pace: Holding a pace when your body is tired.  But instead of running myself to a tired state, I bike myself there, then pick up the run.  [Note: I don't usually do this like a brick workout: get off the bike and go immediately into a run.  Instead, I usually give myself 6-16 hours between the two.  This creates a different kind of fatigue, I think.]

It wasn't until I added biking to my workout repertoire that I've been able to achieve a good, solid, tired-legs feeling.  And the truth is: I love it.  How much will this improve my running physiology right now? I really don't know.  But I do know that it's providing solid mental training and varying my workouts a bit, while keeping me healthy and strong. 


I also haven't done much research into the physiological validity behind this approach.  But my legs feel tired and I'm getting a challenging run workout that my hips and IT bands are tolerating well.  [They are the first to complain when I push too hard, too fast.]  And since I'm not in event-specific training at the moment, I have some time to experiment on myself.

I don't know how my relationship with cycling will change once my legs are back up to running 50+ miles/wk.  But for now, cycling has been a much-needed release for my athletic energy.  So despite my grumblings (in a few minutes, I have to load my bike into the car for a trip to the bike shop, grrrr...), I'm thankful for this opportunity to explore a new sport and some new approaches to training.  

I've also been motivated to learn/read/think more about integrating different kinds of cross-training into a running routine.  While this is relevant to me in the short-term, I think it also holds considerable promise for runners with chronic/degenerative injuries, who are looking to improve running performance but whose bodies only tolerate a certain mileage each week.  As a running coach, I have lots to think and learn about - good thing this stuff fascinates me!

Ride #4: South Bay Bike Path

A dear friend of mine visited us for a long weekend at the end of July.  After dropping her at the airport on a Tuesday morning, I made the most of my drive to the west and headed to Marina del Rey for a trifecta of short rides at the beach.

If this won't sooth Melanie-missage, I don't know what will...

Where to Bike Los Angeles describes three intersecting rides from Marina del Rey south to Torrance Beach.  Basically, along the coast in this area:

The first of these is the South Bay Bike Path - essentially, a straight shot down the coast.

Date: 7/31/2012

Time: ~10 AM

Weather: 72F, Overcast

Route: Start at the Ballona Creek Bridge/Enter South Bay Bike Path/Transition to bike lane on Hermosa Ave/Back to bike path/Follow through parking garage/Turn around at Torrance Beach (end of bike path)

Hey! I found "0" on the Marvin Braude Bike Trail!
We usually run/ride this around miles 17-23 in the Santa Monica area.
Note to self: Consider a complete end-to-end ride on this path...

This ride is from Where to Bike Los Angeles, except I started from the parking lot Del Rey Lagoon Park, which offered free parking and restroom facilities.

Distance: 23.1 mi

Time: 1 hr, 25 min

Avg Pace: 16.2 mph 

Ride Description: This is definitely a weekday or very early morning ride.  I imagine this path gets crowded with runners, walkers, and beach-goers in the afternoons, especially on weekends.  On this particular morning, overcast skies and my odd timing meant that things were pretty quiet over 80% of the path (the other 20% was hoppin', though - read on).  The ride isn't quite as fast as it could be, though, because sand on the path makes it pretty slippery in places.  I got to practice some bike handling on sharp, sandy turns.  

Sand to the left, Sand to the right,
Sand on the path all day & night...

The sections of the route that went onto the road were in very quiet areas (again, probably not so on the weekend).  I was slowed only by lights and stop signs.  There was a bike lane in places, and where there wasn't, cyclists got this:

See that sign?  And the WHOLE ENTIRE FULL LANE, labeled just for me (us)?!?  WHEEE!!!!

There is one section at Redondo Beach where this happens:

Saving pedestrians from cyclists.

Although, on this particular day, the pier was pretty deserted:

Maybe things will pick up once this place opens?

I kinda wish I could climb up there and scribble in "Eventually".

Overall, at a quiet time, this is a flat, easy ride that affords meditative ocean views.

Interesting Happenings:
1. Summer camp like WHOA.  Kids & counselors, for all kinds of camps.  On one section of beach, I overheard the introduction of the day's camp guest, surfer "Bob Gnarley".  I thought camp was for, like, 4-H.  But I guess when you live on the West Coast, you can go to Summer Surf Camp:

Love the teamwork.

Looked like those campers could have used one of these, which I spotted a bit further down the beach:

Truly ingenious, right?

Really, truly camping at the beach.

2. I also thought that RVs/Campers were for camping. Like, forest camping.  But then, I came upon a beachside parking lot full of RVs.  First, I thought it was a sales lot. Then, I realized that these people were really, truly, legitimately camper-ing.  Next to the beach.  I'll bet those suckers are full of sand by the end of the week.  Better them than me...  Boy, I'm learning so much out here in Cali.

3. Sometimes, you'll randomly stumble upon a mid-week volleyball tournament:

Gates erected along the bike path forced cyclists to walk their bikes through this (very crowded) section.  But that slowed me enough that I could fully appreciate some of the team uniforms.  A few of my faves:

Looks like the Cleveland Indians are playing 2 sports this summer...

Yep, definitely them.

At least it's the off-season for the Lakers.

Team Thanksgiving.  I guess it's sorta their off-season, too...

Lessons Learned:
1. A bike path can go through a parking garage!

The approach...

..."Bike Path Ahead"...

...it's dark in here!

2. "Heads up, passing on the left" is a pretty good way of alerting pedestrians/recreational cyclists to your approach.  I find that the standard, "On your left," is very confusing, since you're saying exactly the thing you don't want them to do.  The brain hears "left", and half the time, they step left. It's not really their fault; it's their brains!  But "heads up", followed by "Passing on your left" seems to be processed a bit more successfully.
3. Pedestrians ignore signs that designate paths as "Bikes ONLY".  Dude - I don't care HOW fast you run, you don't belong on the bike path. Seriously.
  
Lingering Questions:
1. Where in the heck do people go to just ride??  Every place I've ridden so far has stop signs, stop lights, pedestrian crossing, and/or bike-walking sections.  Even though my serious pedaling speed averages 18 mph, when factoring in slow-downs for people, stop signs, lights, etc - I only average out to 16.  How do people train for a long-distance bike race this way?  Are you all just packing your bikes up and driving them miles away, somewhere free from all signs, lights, and people?  Where is this secret place?? 

Overall? A happy ocean-side ride with a few slow sections.  I circled back to the car for a snack, some sunscreen, and a double-check on the directions for my second planned ride of the day.  Stay tuned!

Ride #3: San Fernando Pass to Santa Susana Pass - Porter Ranch

Sometimes on Wednesday evenings, I join a group run out at Fleet Feet Encino.  On this particular Wednesday, I decided to pre-game my run with a bike ride up in San Fernando.  

Significantly northwest of downtown LA.  The ride started in San Fernando (at right),
and proceeded up into Porter Ranch (pink area with red pin).

This area is north of Encino, even further from the city, and thus the trip to Encino is significantly easier from San Fernando than from our apartment in the evening (going south instead of north).  I parked at the Sylmar Metro station.  Note to Angelinos: MANY Metro stations have free parking.

I promise you, there's not much out in Sylmar except free parking at the Metro station.*
But that was awesome!

Date: 7/25/2012

Time: ~3PM

Weather: 90F, Sunny

Route: R Hubbard/L San Fernando/R Workman (Rinaldi)/R Reseda/L Braemore/R Tampa/L Sesnon/L Mason/R Chatsworth/L Variel/R Devonshire/R Valley Circle/L Germain/End at Chatsworth Park North & turn around/L Devonshire/L Variel/R Chatsworth/L Mason/R Rinaldi (Workman)/L Truman/R Hubbard/L Frank Mondugno

This route is from Where to Bike Los Angeles.  I am describing routes briefly in these posts, but truly - if you're a cycling Angelino, you should buy the book for yourself.  The authors provide five times more information than I can/want to - and books like this come to fruition as a result of rider support.  So go get yourself a copy - you won't regret it!

Distance: 27 mi

Time: 1 hr, 51 min

Avg Pace: 14.6 mph, with a max of 33.9 mph (for me, that's freakin' FAST) 

You can see the Garmin data for this ride here.

Ride Description: The ride starts with some mild suburb navigation through Sylmar, then involves a straight shot down Rinaldi for 4 miles.  There is a bike lane here, but the road is a moderately busy commercial section, with freeway entrances/exits, lights, and businesses.  I generally felt safe, but this wasn't a relaxing section to ride.

At Reseda, the route turns up into a very quiet, residential area - and climbs 350 feet in about 0.6 miles into the Porter Ranch neighborhood.  Now THAT is a climb.  But one thing about bike shoes that clip in to your pedals: You don't have much choice but to keep on pedaling!  And at the top, I was rewarded with nearly deserted (and flat!) residential streets:

and views of the distant mountains:

One thing to note, though - if you're taking photos while on your bike, you may not be able to take full advantage of all descents! 

Still, the photos were worth it.

After a few high miles, the route drops back down out of Porter Ranch.  In this section, I encountered a road full of heavy construction equipment and obvious roadwork.  I was afraid I'd have to backtrack - and the anal retentive part of me worried about not completing the route as it was written.  But the road crew let me through and I coasted some fast, steep, and construction-riddled miles down.  The final part of the "out" ride goes through another commercial district, but was quieter and more pleasant to ride than Rinaldi.  The turn-around point is at a disappointingly meager park:

LA has some awesome parks. This isn't really one.

In fact, there wasn't even a water fountain (that I could find).  I was glad I wore my hydration pack, rather than relying on water bottle refills for this ride.  On my way back, I stopped for a pick-me-up lemonade at The Munch Box.  It is, apparently, a Cultural Heritage Site (who knew?).  The lemonade was pink, but acceptable.  The cold sugary goodness fueled the last 8 miles of my ride.

What can I say? Photos with historic cultural sites are now a habit.

The return trip skips the climb up to Porter Ranch and instead remains entirely on Rinaldi Street.  This is not complicated, but does include too many entrance/exit ramps for my liking.  

Interesting Happenings:
1. Best climb yet!

This is a picture taken on the return ride.  Straight ahead is Porter Ranch.  I didn't climb all the way to the top, but this gives you an idea of the unusual layout of this area.

2. On my return trip, I saw a man lying on the sidewalk at a bus stop, receiving CPR.  This was happening literally across the street from a hospital, and there were plenty of scrubs-clad-professionals in attendance, so I didn't feel that my Red Cross CPR certification was needed.  I did, however, stop complaining to myself about silly, inconsequential things.  For example:
3. Coming in to the final miles, I got passed by a gentleman 15 years my senior with a spare tire around his middle that would be suitable for Dimitri.  Humbling, much? 

Lessons Learned:
1. What climbing a 10-12% grade feels like.
2. Motorists interpret "bike lane" to mean "Hey! I don't have to pull super close to the curb, since there's all this extra space on the left!"
3. Lemonade is just as good at the end of a tough ride, as it is at the end of a tough run.
4. Maybe I'm getting a bit more comfortable riding with traffic?  And this particular ride included several "right lane turns into right hand turn lane" situations.  A vast improvement from this ride.  Good thing, too - because this road was much busier than Old Town Montrose.
5. Don't write your turn cheat-sheet on old, brittle paper from a freebie WestLaw notebook.  My direction sheet literally crumbled in my pocket, and I was holding left piecing fragments together to recall my route.  I hope that WestLaw as a service is higher quality than their paper...

Lingering Questions:
1. Really must learn how to clean my chain.  All this hot, dry, dusty business is resulting in grit accumulation.  This isn't really a question, unless you have some advice!
2. Why does that one piece of hair insist on popping out of my helmet?

As if a helmet isn't already a terrific fashion statement...

Overall, this was a great intermediate ride.  There wasn't extreme climbing, or extreme traffic - but there were modest amounts of both, which resulted in my feeling both practiced and accomplished at the end.  However, the distance from home, plus the commercial nature of Rinaldi, are enough to discourage me from returning to ride here regularly.  But thanks for a good time on this particular afternoon, Porter Ranch!

*This is not entirely true.  Sylmar also houses the Nethercutt Museum, the most fantastic collection of mint-condition classic cars I've ever seen.  Admission is free.  You should go.