today's commute

The seasons are changing.

I left for work at 6:05 this morning with full lights on.

Passed another bike commuter who was coming up Hwy 9 in the dark. I've seen him for the last few months. He's on a road bike with a backpack and good form. We always acknowledge each other, but have never spoken, seeing as how we're always on opposite sides and both moving pretty quickly.

Here's the GPS profile from today's round trip commute. My morning commute is the first nine miles, mostly downhill with one little climb at mile two - really a pretty easy ride and a great way to start the day. The afternoon commute is a booger with that one big climb (luckily under the cover of big oaks on a twisty road scattered with vineyards and nice, well-thought out properties to admire), and two smaller climbs with heavy, fast car-traffic. The advantage of having the tougher commute going home is that it makes me save something, mental and physical, throughout the day in order to get myself home. And the real booger about it is that last climb you see. That's where we live - 185 feet of climbing in, like, a quarter of a mile! One of these days I'll do the math and figure out the percent grade.

Here's the route. I started at the green arrow in the upper, left-hand corner. It looks like a big leg and foot!

two things that energize me for my afternoon commute

Yerba mate and a surprise phone call from Adria!

I was sipping my yerba mate at work...

...like I do most days at three o'clock, and was thinking about which route I want to take home. I decided to take the longer, steeper way home - up Glen Canyon. If I connect my morning commute, through the redwoods along Hwy 9, with this afternoon route, it makes for a nice loop. I'll run the GPS and try to stitch the two runs together and post it when I get home.

And Adria just surprise-called me. She's on a five-day Yosemite backpacking trip and wasn't supposed to come out until tomorrow, but weather pushed them out a day early. Good news for me!! So now I'm extra excited to get home.

I may still be able to do the night ride on the trails that I've been thinking about for tonight - we'll see.

Looks like I'll do about 25 miles today, without the trail ride.

Fort Ord - misery on a single-speed mountain bike

On Saturday morning, I drove about 30 miles south of Santa Cruz to explore the trails of a place I have heard a lot about, but never ridden - Ft. Ord.

Ft. Ord, an infantry training center for the first 80 years of the 20th century, is now de-activated for military training and is open to the public. The Bureau of Land Management has created a network of multi-use trails that are free to the public.

It took about 45 minutes to get to the trailhead. As I was driving south on Hwy 1, I was excited about the prospect of riding in a place that warned of mountain lions, rattlesnakes, and live explosives in public areas!

An excerpt from one of Ft. Ord's websites:

>Explosives at former Fort Ord

While every effort has and is being made to clear dangerous materials, 60 years of military occupation make it possible that live rounds and explosives may remain in public areas as well as posted areas.

DO NOT TOUCH unfamiliar objects, especially metal. Instead, MARK THE LOCATION and CALL THE FEDERAL POLICE at (831) 242-7851 or (831) 242-7924.

After a little exploring, I found the trailhead parking lot nestled between a residential community and some strawberry fields. I grabbed a trail map and plotted a course that would satisfy my two objectives - keep me on as much singletrack as possible AND get me close to the yellow "DO NOT ENTER" section (see map below - I had to cut the map in half to post it here...so imagine that the bottom half is attached to the left of the top half.) For reference, I started my ride at the intersection of G17 (Reservation Road) and Hwy 67.

Less than a mile into my ride, I noticed three ways that Ft. Ord vastly different than the riding do on my local trails.

First, the trails are heavily signed. I couldn't ride for more than a half mile without having to stop to consult the map to see which trail to connect with. In general, I appreciate this because it makes it makes the outdoors accessible to more people, but I found that I could never settle in enough to enjoy the riding. And yeah, I know that I had an agenda for this ride (get to the yellow zone!), so that had a lot to do with it, too.

Second, the terrain was much different. Most of the riding I do is under the canopy of redwoods where I am the smallest thing on the trail. I ride on well-packed, cool soil with rocks and roots to navigate. This day, I found myself the tallest thing on the trail - I was fully exposed to the sun as I rode next to low scrub brush and madrone trees. The trail was sand - loose and deep in many spots. The riding here, unlike at home, did not require strong technical skills - only an ability to muscle through deep sand.
In my head, I started playing a game to minimize the suffering of riding in sand. I pretended that there were unexploded land mines all around me and that I couldn't put my foot down in or I would get blown up. That game ended when I realized that I had to put my foot down in order to stop to check the map to see which connecting trail to take. Aaargh.

The third way that Ft. Ord is different than riding at home is that it was H-O-T. Great for training military troops maybe, but not so good for riding bikes. Less than two miles into the ride, I had salt streaks on my sunglasses and my hands were slipping from the grips. It did feel good to sweat, though, and riding here reminded me that as much physical exercise as I do, I just don't sweat enough. Those people reading this who don't live in Central California may be rolling their eyes right now.

All was fine until about mile six. Like an animal that gets distracted by a shiny trinket, I got distracted from my goal of getting to the yellow zone. What distracted me was a named trail - called Lookout Ridge. I figured the views would be great, so I headed in that direction. And that took everything out of me - a 7% climb for just over a mile on a single-speed in the blazing sun. But at least I was on hard-packed soil instead of loose sand. If you check out the profile, you can see the climb at mile six.

After the blood drained from my eyes, I ate two melted Snickers bars while crouching under a madrone tree. Turns out madrone trees don't provide much shade, so I scarfed and barfed in order to get back on the bike and start suffering, I mean riding, again.

I started climbing again to meet up with more singletrack and work my way towards that ever-elusive yellow zone, but quickly bonked. It was just too hot and I was running out of liquids, even though I had started with a 100 oz. Camelbak with water and two water bottles full of electrolyte fluid. Also, my paper map was disintegrating from being stored in my jersey pocket which was soaked with sweat. So I turned around and enjoyed the downhill to get back on the asphalt and head back to the parking area.

As I was driving home I realized that this is the second time in a row that I didn't perform well on my single-speed mountain bike. It reminded me that I haven't spent enough time on it recently. So I need to do more of that.

thank you, bee, for stinging me in the ear

I was riding down to Santa Cruz from Felton on Sunday afternoon.

At the end of the ride, there's a narrow and twisty one way road that dumps you out of the residential area near DeLaveaga into Santa Cruz.
This day was only the fourth time I'd been this way, and the first two times I rode it I didn't know this road was one-way. So I always went really slowly around the steep, blind curve.
But two rides ago, I realized that it is one way (my way) so since then I've beeen taking the middle of the lane. No worries.

So on Sunday, I'm coming down this same one-way street.
I'm in the middle of the road.
I'm going fast.
I'm stoked.
As I approached the blind curve, I intentionally kept my speed up and cut a closer turn, pushing myself to get better at cornering with full panniers. I made it around the corner with no problems.

As I straightened out and scrubbed some speed, about 30 seconds later, a Ford Explorer turned down the street and proceeded to drive up the one way street towards me. As he approached me, I gently waved at him and pointed to the three bright red and white signs that read "DO NOT ENTER."

I figured he would get it, stop, and turn around, so I kept pedalling. Curious, I looked back.
He did not stop. He kept driving up the hill, against the flow. When he got to the blind curve he...

What do you think he did?
That's right.
He kept going.

That scared me and angered me. Thirty seconds ago, I was flying down that hill, near 25 miles an hour. That would have been a disaster had we collided.

So I pedalled after him.
I didn't get far, though, before I saw him doing a seven-point turn on this narrow, tree-lined road to get going in the correct direction. There were four cars behind him (in front of him?). They weren't too happy, either, I reckon. But I bet none of them were as scared or angry as me.

I stayed on the shoulder of the road as he came back down the hill. When he approached me, I waved, forced a smile, and motioned for him to roll down his window.

Me: "Hey there...that's a one way street, you know."
Him: "Yeah, I know. That's why I turned around."
Me: "I'm on a bike and came down that hill around that bend about 30 seconds ago. If one of us had been about 30 seconds earlier, it would have been a mess."
Him: "Yeah, I know. That's why I turned around."

Baffling logic.
So I just said "OK, thanks, have a good day" and moved off the road. I gave him a full minute head start and then moved onto the road.

Interestingly, about three miles back, before I was flying down that hill, a bee flew into my ear and stung me. Bee stings in the ear hurt, it turns out. I had stopped riding just long enough to get the bee and stinger out of my ear. Turns out that took about 30 seconds.

So, thank you, bee, for stinging me in the ear.
Had you not stung me and slowed me down, I would have collided with that Ford Explorer.

options

It was nice to wake up early one morning last week and run through my options on ways to get to work.

First thought at 5am, when the alarm sounded: I'm gonna ride!
Second thought at 5:25, when I was still in bed: It's 5:25 and I'm still in bed. It sure is cozy in here. I 'm going to stay in bed and catch the 6:05 bus.
Third thought at 5:50, when I got on my bike: I'm not going to get to work as early as I wanted to, but at least I get to ride.

It was interesting when I was running through my options that driving didn't even come to mind.

tradeoffs

I've had a vehicle now for 32 days.

In this time, I've logged my two lowest weeks of mileage since starting tracking it on April 8 - but not because I've been supporting myself via truck instead of bicycle. In reviewing my Bike Log I can pinpoint a few reason:

• two days immediately following the purchase of the truck, I did not ride at all (playing with my new toy?)


• the following week, I was off the bike for four days - Adria and I went to Tahoe that week, and I was off-bike for three days beforehand, then rode hard in Tahoe for two days, then stayed off-bike for one day after returning


• the third week after the purchase, Adria and I went to Humboldt for an Aslanian family affair and I did not ride

So, I'm OK with how few miles I put in since buying a vehicle, and I don't connect it directly to having access to a vehicle. I think all other things being held constant, I still would have had a couple of low-mileage weeks even if I hadn't bought the truck.

And all that got me thinking about tradeoffs.

I can leave for work 20 minutes later in the mornings if I choose to drive. So, the benefit of driving is extra time. Chilling at home before leaving for work has always been valuable to me. My day is set up so much better when I don't rush out the door for work, but instead enjoy the solitude that morning presents, enjoy some good coffee while reading, make a nice breakfast, or practice yoga.

Then I thought about the cost of that tradeoff. There's the financial cost - $4 round-trip, plus wear-and-tear on the vehicle. There's the mental cost - waiting in lines of cars and not being in control of my world, and the stress that creates. There's the environmental cost - short trips put an inordinate amount of greenhouse gases into the atmosphere. There's the emotional cost - the way I feel when I arrive at work after driving versus riding is the exact opposite of empowering (just knowing that I've ridden for 45 minutes before 7am...super-good feeling).

So, yeah, the benefit of driving to work isn't worth the cost. That being said, I also don't regret having bought the vehicle - it affords me many other benefits that are worth the cost. But I also don't regret leaving it sitting in the driveway more mornings than not as I roll down the street on two wheels.

In celebration of my revelation, I share with you some pictures from my commute to and from work today:

The sky that I got to stare into as I rode my bike:

The funnniest bumper stickers I've seen in a long time:A guy in a lab coat staring at the ocean as two girls walk by:

Actually, the guy isn't real. He's part of a mural on the Shopper's Corner wall:

Three week progress report

So Sunday marked the three-week point of Commute for a Cause.

Turns out that getting people to donate money for my bike riding is not as easy as I thought it would be. This whole "non-profit" thing is all new to me. Turns out it's a lot of work! We can have the greatest ideas in our heads, and as excited as we are about them, we still have to get others excited, too.

I've got three main challenges that I'm working through right now. The first is the technical limitations of this blog. While it's simple to use and update, it's not as customizable as I need. But I'll just have to work around that for now.

My second challenge is rallying support for the cause. I've still got a lot of people to tap into for support and ideas, and I'll get going on that this week.

My third challenge is a physical one. I am still recovering from a crash that happened five weeks ago. I went to a sports medicine doctor last week because the pain wasn't going away. Turns out I've got a small fracture in my left ulna (one of the arm bones). It's affecting my riding a little bit, but shouldn't be a major factor in slowing me down. I just need to be careful when I ride trails. In fact, there's a group of guys I ride with and we're putting together a night ride for this week. One part of me says "Don't do it" but the other part...well, you can probably guess what it says.

And, yeah, really small numbers this week - a whopping 12 miles!! That's what happens when I'm off the bike for four days. I plan on making it up this week, though.