6 of us departed Kokopelli's at 9:30 on a brisk but sunny morning, and rode essentially the Pueblo-to-Pueblo route, but returning along 29/30 instead of 145. The 184 section was absolutely gorgeous and a treat to ride, sheltered from any wind, perfect temperature, and little traffic. All agreed it was a great way to start the spring's club rides.
Let's do it again next Saturday!
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Friday, April 6, 2012
Kokopelli / Ciclistas del Rio Saturday Road Rides!
Wow - not much happened over the winter, eh?
Starting this weekend, April 7, group road rides will leave at 9:30am Saturday from Kokopelli Bike & Board. All abilities and interests are welcome, and we’ll cater the ride to whoever shows up, splitting into different groups if necessary. Need some intensity training for the Iron Horse or other spring races? Want practice riding in a pace line, or getting comfortable in a peloton? Just want to go for a ride? Then come on down to Kokopelli’s on Saturday morning! They open at 9:00am in case you need to pick up some gels or bars for the ride, or couldn’t find that second water bottle that’s been floating around the garage over the winter. We’ll assess rider preferences and decide all logistics before setting out.
It’s going to be a beautiful day this Saturday, no better way to start off the spring, see you there!
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Final PBP Recap
Last Day! Really, an extra day as the sleep in Dreux was not planned, but necessary. Another 5 or so hours of sleep, some soup, yogurt, bread and butter, coffee and Orangina, and I was ready for the final forty miles. This last section is much flatter than the rest of the route, and it was another fine day, and though I still had the cold, my spirits were high. Saw many people that I had seen over the past couple of days, some were dragging in, most were upbeat and excited to finish. Even being sick, there weren't many who were faster than me up the climbs - thank you Colorado! The most frustrating thing was dealing with all the traffic lights as we approached the urban center - after 3 days of roundabouts, the cyclist's best friend, having to actually stop at an intersection was annoying. You could hear the crowds at the Gymnase about half a mile away, and they thronged the approach to the final roundabout, and huge cheers and applause would go up for every rider as they rode in and under the finish kite. It was an incredible way to finish, and I'm so glad I did not push through the previous night. Parked the bike, and joined the line for the final control stamp, a "congratulations", and "see you next time!"
Found Fred, Julie and Colin, with lots of hugs all around. Shower and 90 minute nap, and much was right with the world again.
So I figure I've ridden three different PBPs in one: 1) I raced, and raced well - apparently I was the 3rd fastest RMCC rider to Loudeac the first night in 16h20m, just too bad I couldn't hold it. 2) I toured, and had a lot of fun chatting with riders, setting up pace lines, stopping for food and drink with the locals, taking photos from the bike, and generally enjoying riding through France. 3) I survived - getting sick turned it into an epic, and forcing myself to keep going through the misery and nausea was the hardest thing I've ever done. And in the end, I finished! With a pretty decent time of 78h30m-ish despite the illness. I guess I now have the title of Ancien (a PBP finisher), and my name goes in the Big Book of finishers, dating back to 1891. Quite an honor for riding a bike around the northwest corner of France. A bientot!
Found Fred, Julie and Colin, with lots of hugs all around. Shower and 90 minute nap, and much was right with the world again.
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| Michael & Colin - very happy campers after finishing PBP |
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| Can you tell Fred and Julie are happy to be done? |
So I figure I've ridden three different PBPs in one: 1) I raced, and raced well - apparently I was the 3rd fastest RMCC rider to Loudeac the first night in 16h20m, just too bad I couldn't hold it. 2) I toured, and had a lot of fun chatting with riders, setting up pace lines, stopping for food and drink with the locals, taking photos from the bike, and generally enjoying riding through France. 3) I survived - getting sick turned it into an epic, and forcing myself to keep going through the misery and nausea was the hardest thing I've ever done. And in the end, I finished! With a pretty decent time of 78h30m-ish despite the illness. I guess I now have the title of Ancien (a PBP finisher), and my name goes in the Big Book of finishers, dating back to 1891. Quite an honor for riding a bike around the northwest corner of France. A bientot!
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
PBP Recap #4
I awoke hungry from 5 1/2 hours of good sleep. Throat was still scratchy, but I felt rested and ready to go. Ate breakfast gingerly, just to be safe, and Fred drove me back to Tinteniac, where I resumed the ride by first going through the control. I started slowly to be sure I was fully warmed up, and suddenly I was really enjoying being on the bike again! It was the first sunny day, puffy clouds in the sky, and lots of people were in a good mood with sights set on Paris. Started off with an Englishman, and we hooked up with an Aussie, and then gathered in 3 Seattle randonneurs. The 6 of us Anglais formed a nice steady rotating pace line, and before long we had a throng of cyclists sitting on our wake - it was kind of fun leading all the Euros through the French countryside.
Arrived back at the hotel in Fougeres and scarfed down more food. I was able to take food and water on the bike again, but made sure I stocked up at the van. Colin had not slept too much, but was well enough to press on to Paris unsupported, leaving Julie and Fred to support me. He was clearly stronger than me at this point, and waiting for me would not have done him any good. And I was fine with it as I could go at a slower pace without feelilng guilty! Turns out for most of the day I was matching Colin's pace anyway, as I was feeling so much better - the endurance training and also living at altitude were paying dividends today. My average speed increased, and though sub-60 was out of the question, it looked like sub-70 was still in the cards.
However, between Villaines-La-Juhel and Mortagne-au-Perche, the nausea started to creep back, and I couldn't eat much on the bike. I took advantage of the food and drink in the villages along the way, but it was soon clear that I was not over my cold. After Mortagne, I started to crash pretty hard, feeling sleepy and nauseous. About 11pm I was climbing through a dark forest with no moonlight, and it seemed like I was the only person on earth. At the top of the hill, there was a crossroads with a war monument, and a handful of cheery villagers were offering coffee, tea and biscuits - "Gratuit! Free!" I stopped for a cup of tea, and decided I really needed to be horizontal for a few minutes, so I took off my helmet and curled up in the shadow of the monument for 20 minutes of sleep. I had left my rear lights blinking, and someone kindly came over and turned them off. I imagine I looked like so many other riders that I had passed, lying comatose by the side of the road like so much PBP flotsam and jetsam.
I got up feeling better, but it was clear I wasn't going past Dreux tonight, despite wanting to finish sub-70. I reminded myself that Goal #2 was to have fun and get the most out of the PBP experience - and those last 40 miles in the middle of the night, feeling sick, were going to be miserable and not accomplish anything, certainly not Goal #2. And right after I had made up my mind to sleep in Dreux, I got out of the saddle to strech my back, and the extra effort put the nausea over the edge - I quickly had to skid over to the side of the road, dismount, prop my self over the bike, and wretch for 10 minutes. Definitely sleeping in Dreux.
Made my way as best I could to the control where Fred and Julie were waiting. After all my good time earlier in the day, this last leg was desperately slow. Got a change of clothes, and told Fred and Julie to go to the hotel at the finish to sleep (Colin had arrived just a couple of hours earlier, finishing in 66 hours or so) and meet me there tomorrow morning. And literally seconds after they left, as I was walking into the gym/dormitory, I had to wretch again. The attendant was very nice and sent one of the staff EMTs to look after me. They had a full infirmary set up to deal with all kinds of physical problems, mostly saddle sores, and they had a few cots set aside there, so I got a 'private ward' instead of the huge dormitory, which looked like a scene from Alien, with cocoons of snoring cyclists stretching away into the gloom.
Arrived back at the hotel in Fougeres and scarfed down more food. I was able to take food and water on the bike again, but made sure I stocked up at the van. Colin had not slept too much, but was well enough to press on to Paris unsupported, leaving Julie and Fred to support me. He was clearly stronger than me at this point, and waiting for me would not have done him any good. And I was fine with it as I could go at a slower pace without feelilng guilty! Turns out for most of the day I was matching Colin's pace anyway, as I was feeling so much better - the endurance training and also living at altitude were paying dividends today. My average speed increased, and though sub-60 was out of the question, it looked like sub-70 was still in the cards.
However, between Villaines-La-Juhel and Mortagne-au-Perche, the nausea started to creep back, and I couldn't eat much on the bike. I took advantage of the food and drink in the villages along the way, but it was soon clear that I was not over my cold. After Mortagne, I started to crash pretty hard, feeling sleepy and nauseous. About 11pm I was climbing through a dark forest with no moonlight, and it seemed like I was the only person on earth. At the top of the hill, there was a crossroads with a war monument, and a handful of cheery villagers were offering coffee, tea and biscuits - "Gratuit! Free!" I stopped for a cup of tea, and decided I really needed to be horizontal for a few minutes, so I took off my helmet and curled up in the shadow of the monument for 20 minutes of sleep. I had left my rear lights blinking, and someone kindly came over and turned them off. I imagine I looked like so many other riders that I had passed, lying comatose by the side of the road like so much PBP flotsam and jetsam.
I got up feeling better, but it was clear I wasn't going past Dreux tonight, despite wanting to finish sub-70. I reminded myself that Goal #2 was to have fun and get the most out of the PBP experience - and those last 40 miles in the middle of the night, feeling sick, were going to be miserable and not accomplish anything, certainly not Goal #2. And right after I had made up my mind to sleep in Dreux, I got out of the saddle to strech my back, and the extra effort put the nausea over the edge - I quickly had to skid over to the side of the road, dismount, prop my self over the bike, and wretch for 10 minutes. Definitely sleeping in Dreux.
Made my way as best I could to the control where Fred and Julie were waiting. After all my good time earlier in the day, this last leg was desperately slow. Got a change of clothes, and told Fred and Julie to go to the hotel at the finish to sleep (Colin had arrived just a couple of hours earlier, finishing in 66 hours or so) and meet me there tomorrow morning. And literally seconds after they left, as I was walking into the gym/dormitory, I had to wretch again. The attendant was very nice and sent one of the staff EMTs to look after me. They had a full infirmary set up to deal with all kinds of physical problems, mostly saddle sores, and they had a few cots set aside there, so I got a 'private ward' instead of the huge dormitory, which looked like a scene from Alien, with cocoons of snoring cyclists stretching away into the gloom.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
PBP Recap #3
Did I mention the rain? From about 11am on Day 1, it rained lightly but consistently for about 6 or 7 hours. I stayed relatively dry and warm, but somehow it got to me. I got out of bed at 1:30am on Day 2 with a scratchy throat, a harbinger of the day to come. That combined with the fact that neither Colin or I got any actual sleep, and we were not off to a good start. As is so often the case, the first night's rest, or lack of, can determine the whole outcome of the ride.
We set out a little afer 2am, and joined a throng of red lights making their way west. It's hard to tell at night, but it seemed that Loudeac to Carhaix was very hilly. Good time to Carhaix, where we found Fred and Julie by the blinking red glow-lights they attached to the flag pole. Throat did not feel good, but the body was holding up, so I still had hope.
There was no rain, but soon after Carhaix, climbing the coastal hills toward Brest, we encountered a mist/fog so thick and persistent it soaked us as well as any rain would. That may have been the last straw, as I started to feel pretty poorly with the cold coming on and the lack of sleep. About 17 miles from Brest, we stopped to call Julie and let her know we'd probably be needing 20 or 30 mins of sleep in the van. Despite how we were feeling, we made Brest is good time, a cumulative 29hr20mins, pretty much right on track to break 60 hours.
Well, they didn't have the van ready for sleep, so we decided we'd do that at Carhaix. I was really not feeling well at this point, and Colin went on ahead in order to sleep more at the next stop. It was very hilly getting back over the coastal hills, and my average speed suffered along with my morale. 30 minutes of sleep in Carhaix was very welcome, but didn't do much for my cold. There was nothing to do but press on.
At this point, I could not stomach much food or liquid on the bike, and that's simply a death spiral for endurance riding. I would eat and drink as much as I could at the support points, and force down small quantities on the road, but it's a loosing caloric battle. Caught back up with Colin at Loudeac, and as well as support food, we had some pasta and soup provided at the official control. At this point, Colin was recovering well from the lack of sleep, but my cold was getting worse. Luckily, many of the villages we passed through set up big tents and sold all kinds of local foods to the riders, so I was able to stop a couple times for nutrition.
At Tinteneac, I made the decision to call it a day. We had a hotel at Fougeres for the night, but I decided I needed some real sleep to kick the cold - so Colin rode to Fougeres while I took the van. Hopefully I would sleep well and wake up refreshed, go back to Tinteneac, then pick up Colin in Fougeres, and we'd be off. But in trying to take my electrolytes and other supplements, the gag reflex kicked in, and suddenly I was emptying what was left in my stomach in the hotel sink. It was going to be a long final 3rd of PBP.
We set out a little afer 2am, and joined a throng of red lights making their way west. It's hard to tell at night, but it seemed that Loudeac to Carhaix was very hilly. Good time to Carhaix, where we found Fred and Julie by the blinking red glow-lights they attached to the flag pole. Throat did not feel good, but the body was holding up, so I still had hope.
There was no rain, but soon after Carhaix, climbing the coastal hills toward Brest, we encountered a mist/fog so thick and persistent it soaked us as well as any rain would. That may have been the last straw, as I started to feel pretty poorly with the cold coming on and the lack of sleep. About 17 miles from Brest, we stopped to call Julie and let her know we'd probably be needing 20 or 30 mins of sleep in the van. Despite how we were feeling, we made Brest is good time, a cumulative 29hr20mins, pretty much right on track to break 60 hours.
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| Support van in Brest - don't know if we're coming or going |
Well, they didn't have the van ready for sleep, so we decided we'd do that at Carhaix. I was really not feeling well at this point, and Colin went on ahead in order to sleep more at the next stop. It was very hilly getting back over the coastal hills, and my average speed suffered along with my morale. 30 minutes of sleep in Carhaix was very welcome, but didn't do much for my cold. There was nothing to do but press on.
At this point, I could not stomach much food or liquid on the bike, and that's simply a death spiral for endurance riding. I would eat and drink as much as I could at the support points, and force down small quantities on the road, but it's a loosing caloric battle. Caught back up with Colin at Loudeac, and as well as support food, we had some pasta and soup provided at the official control. At this point, Colin was recovering well from the lack of sleep, but my cold was getting worse. Luckily, many of the villages we passed through set up big tents and sold all kinds of local foods to the riders, so I was able to stop a couple times for nutrition.
At Tinteneac, I made the decision to call it a day. We had a hotel at Fougeres for the night, but I decided I needed some real sleep to kick the cold - so Colin rode to Fougeres while I took the van. Hopefully I would sleep well and wake up refreshed, go back to Tinteneac, then pick up Colin in Fougeres, and we'd be off. But in trying to take my electrolytes and other supplements, the gag reflex kicked in, and suddenly I was emptying what was left in my stomach in the hotel sink. It was going to be a long final 3rd of PBP.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
PBP Update #2
Support: For a randonneur event, you can only receive support at the designated checkpoints, not anywhere else along the route. If the riders run into trouble, they have to be able to make it to the next checkpoint to get any help from a support crew (though they can make their own way to a bike store or whatever they need along the way).
So Julie and Fred were providing support for Colin and me. They had a minivan loaded with supplies, registered and labeled as an official support vehicle. In PBP, because of the large number of riders, you are allowed to provide support within 5km either side of the control point. We decided that we wanted to have all our support before the controls, not after. And we had heard that it can be pretty chaotic, so we wanted to be a few km out, not right close in. To help identify the van, we heard that a distinctive flag was they key, so Fred took a Colorado state flag and adorned it with some PBP flair. He turned the central "C" of the flag into a coat of arms, with "Partager La Route" (Share the Road) inscribed in the "C", and a pair of spear-wielding marmots on either side. It was destinctive to say the least, and got many stares and comments from cyclists as they rode by.
So the routine went something like: within 5km of the control, Colin and I would begin to scan for the flag. It turned out that because we were at the front of out group, and Fred and Julie founds spots that were away from the crowds, it was easy to find them. They early supports were fast, simply an exchange of bottles and resupply of food items, maybe changing out some items of clothing. Then we were off to the control to get our cards officially stamped, then back on the route to the next control. We were usually fast enough to be back among the lead riders after the control - but after a couple of controls, the lead peloton was separated into a number of smaller groups.
Somehow, Colin ended up in a ditch between Villaines-la-Juhel and Fougeres. We're not sure how it happened, but he overlapped wheels with me, I moved to follow the wheel in front of me, and he went down on the chip seal (yes, they have chip seal in France, too). Luckily it was still very wet, and he slid quickly into the grass, but not without a nice hole in the knee and road rash on his hip. The Frenchman we were riding with stopped and helped us back up, and the three of us continued on to Fougeres.
Apart from that, the rest of the day was fast and we arrived in Loudeac ahead of plan, about 9:30pm That's 280 miles in 16.5 hours. It was a great start for us, despite Colin's crash, and now it was necessary to get a few hours sleep in preparation for Day 2. We had a good hotel near the course, which catered to PBP riders by setting aside a conference room for all the bikes. Shower, recovery drink and a bite to eat, and it was lights out for another middle of the night wakeup call.
So Julie and Fred were providing support for Colin and me. They had a minivan loaded with supplies, registered and labeled as an official support vehicle. In PBP, because of the large number of riders, you are allowed to provide support within 5km either side of the control point. We decided that we wanted to have all our support before the controls, not after. And we had heard that it can be pretty chaotic, so we wanted to be a few km out, not right close in. To help identify the van, we heard that a distinctive flag was they key, so Fred took a Colorado state flag and adorned it with some PBP flair. He turned the central "C" of the flag into a coat of arms, with "Partager La Route" (Share the Road) inscribed in the "C", and a pair of spear-wielding marmots on either side. It was destinctive to say the least, and got many stares and comments from cyclists as they rode by.
 |
| Support van with infamous flag |
So the routine went something like: within 5km of the control, Colin and I would begin to scan for the flag. It turned out that because we were at the front of out group, and Fred and Julie founds spots that were away from the crowds, it was easy to find them. They early supports were fast, simply an exchange of bottles and resupply of food items, maybe changing out some items of clothing. Then we were off to the control to get our cards officially stamped, then back on the route to the next control. We were usually fast enough to be back among the lead riders after the control - but after a couple of controls, the lead peloton was separated into a number of smaller groups.
Somehow, Colin ended up in a ditch between Villaines-la-Juhel and Fougeres. We're not sure how it happened, but he overlapped wheels with me, I moved to follow the wheel in front of me, and he went down on the chip seal (yes, they have chip seal in France, too). Luckily it was still very wet, and he slid quickly into the grass, but not without a nice hole in the knee and road rash on his hip. The Frenchman we were riding with stopped and helped us back up, and the three of us continued on to Fougeres.
Apart from that, the rest of the day was fast and we arrived in Loudeac ahead of plan, about 9:30pm That's 280 miles in 16.5 hours. It was a great start for us, despite Colin's crash, and now it was necessary to get a few hours sleep in preparation for Day 2. We had a good hotel near the course, which catered to PBP riders by setting aside a conference room for all the bikes. Shower, recovery drink and a bite to eat, and it was lights out for another middle of the night wakeup call.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
PBP Tracking
For everyone concerned about the apparent abandon, don't worry. It's clear that they've had some big problems with the final stage electronic tracking, there are lots of people listed as abandoned because it looks like they entered many finishing times as 23:04 or some such. They're probably doing this just to get results out of the system and then manually check them against the control cards.
As for me, I definitely saw the woman stamp mine and write 11hr and some number of minutes (eyes not working so well at that point). So my final time will be 78 hours and change.
Right now we've arrived in Nice, where it is a pleasant 75* at 11pm. Five days of r & r on the shores of the Mediterranean, maybe day trips to Monaco and Italy. The bike is securely packed away in the basement of a Paris hotel.
Further updates on the ride tomorrow...
As for me, I definitely saw the woman stamp mine and write 11hr and some number of minutes (eyes not working so well at that point). So my final time will be 78 hours and change.
Right now we've arrived in Nice, where it is a pleasant 75* at 11pm. Five days of r & r on the shores of the Mediterranean, maybe day trips to Monaco and Italy. The bike is securely packed away in the basement of a Paris hotel.
Further updates on the ride tomorrow...
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