Getting back on the bike

Leaving work today, I was happy to see ominous black clouds pushing east, along with a pretty stiff tailwind. I kept thinking, "If I just ride slow enough, I'll be too late to register for short track this week." I figured it would probably start pouring at five anyhow. After last week's bike meltdown, I didn't really want to face public humiliation again.

The tailwind got me there with time to spare, I handed over my seventeen dollars and lined up. I asked myself again why I was there and still didn't have an answer. So we went around the course for the usual excessive number of laps, I couldn't get any water, but the corners weren't too bad. I passed some women, three, I think. Somehow, I ended up third. Not sure how I managed that. The storm clouds literally parted, the wind disappeared and the sun came out. Not how I thought the day would turn out, but I'm happy.

Getting things to grow

Taking a break from the bike this weekend, partly due to the on-again-off-again rain (currently on), I tried to spend some time in the garden, which has been showing some signs of neglect. I've replanted a bed twice with greens and have nothing to show for it but the lettuce I transplanted from the garden path. I am tempted to blame the pillbugs that are running amuck under my leaf mulch, since I've found a few sprouts that came up and then mysteriously lost their leaves. Usually, by this time of year, I've already had my first salads, but now I'm just waiting to see if I should just give up on the cool weather plants and make room for the nightshades. At least the peas are trying.

I did finally clean up the corner where a giant pile of sifted soil had been hanging out. I opted for super-cheap wood and some scraps from other gardeners, so this is definitely a temporary bed. Unfortunately, I had so much soil, there wasn't much room for compost, so I fear it'll be a poorly draining box this year. Still, it is a new home for 19 potato pieces, morning glories, onions, parsnips, radishes and cypress vine. If these don't make it, the squash seeds are ready to go...

New bed (thanks to Buffy, weeding in back, for use of the saw and drill)

One step forward...

I finally went to the BCSM for a bike fit this week and Larry and Sean gave me lots of things to think about, along with a shopping list. Looks like my saddle will be moving forward a bit on a new post and the saddle itself will be replaced, too. Hopefully that'll mean no grimace of pain on the hillclimb this year. Apparently I was riding on an overstuffed pillow that wasn't doing me any favors. It was pretty cool to see the computer images of my body alignment change as each part was tweaked.

While all that extra attention to the bike did give me some hope that this season might actually turn out OK, tonight reminded me again that there won't be any dramatic improvement if I don't actually know how to ride my bike. I followed the girls to Picture Rock in Lyons, kind of excited to see a new, local trail and get on it without the weekend crowds. Shortly after the initial climb, I realized I should fall to the back of the group so I wouldn't be in the way. I wasn't really tired, since my Wednesday night short track attempt turned into the usual light workout, but my mind and body just wouldn't cooperate. I couldn't corner, cringed at most of the off-camber sections and, when it came to climbing through rocks, I just freaked out. No skills whatsoever and the guilt of slowing anyone else down, even on a no-drop ride, was just too much. I felt completely humiliated, walking parts that I knew even a beginner would ride, all the while convinced that my fork was trying to do me in. Maybe I should have just turned around and gone home. The descent was just as embarrassing, though Liz willingly took a turn talking me down the trail just like Sarah did on the way up (thanks guys).By the time I reached the trail head, I was having serious thoughts of never riding again.

After food and a shower, I feel marginally better, but am still wondering if this is the end of the line for me and bikes. I do love riding, but I never seem to get any better at anything and I'm tired of being the one that everyone has to wait for. I have no innate sense of how to ride a bike and have sabotaged any attempts at formal learning at clinics. I swear I've even forgotten stuff I knew how to do two years ago and instead of fading, my fear of doing stupid, painful things has just come back stronger. But maybe things will seem different in the morning. I really hope so.

Working on climbing

So I got off to a good start last week, working on NB trails and Olde Stage, but maybe taking off for Logan Mill, via Sunshine and Poorman mid-day on an actual, non-rainy, hot day wasn't such a great plan. Fun and nice to see something new, but I kept shooting off onto what I thought were road continuations and finding that they were really just long driveways. Still, I did get moving for a few consecutive hours. I can't believe I'm actually longing for a few cloudy, overcast days (and I will get some).

The household score is currently: Cats 2, Local Birds -2, plus one near miss. We're on lockdown when I can't be around to supervise and the furniture is paying for it.

Carnage in the bathroom, or, Cats 1, Local Birds -1

When you arrive home to find that lone, tiny feather drifting across the kitchen floor, you hope for a second that it just blew in the open door. Creeping slowly through the house, you scan for matching feathers in other odd places. I was almost relieved till I got to the bathroom.

Might have been a bluebird, maybe one of the flycatchers. Hard to say, since this is all that was left. I'd like to believe that the brilliant captive pulled off an amazing escape, fleeing two hyper-excited indoor cats and flying directly out the open door it was pulled through. Yeah, that's a nice thought. In reality, I know I'll probably be meeting this bird again shortly, in one form or another. Ick.

Turtle pile

It's basking season around the pond. I hit Olde Stage tonight after a brief passout on the couch and a chocolate croissant. Nice to be on that road when it's just you, a fox and the ever-present deer. The lilacs are in full bloom at the base of the canyon and the scent is almost intoxicating right now. Good motivation to get out after a long, lame day at work.

Race #1/Ride #4

Before the race, before the endo

OK, maybe that combination wasn't such a hot idea, but Battle of the Bear was still a fun race and I look forward to it in future years. Usually, at this time of the year, I'm still trying to remember that I have a mountain bike, so not a whole lot of riding going on. As always, I learned a lot, like actually try to understand the directions that the guy at the start line is giving out, so you don't end up racing towards the finish after 20 yards (I swear he said stay left) and, given the opportunity, put yourself as far up in the starting group as possible, especially when starting with a climb with a whole lot of people you don't know.

The swelling in my hand went down enough to get my glove on and didn't really bother me too much. Now it's a fun combination of zombie skin tones (green, black, purple, nearing yellow) and I've taken a few shots in case I need inspiration on some future Halloween. I did manage to suck down something around mile two or so that sent me convulsing off the course for a minute or so, but a full gu packet and some mental persuasion got me going again. It was already too late by then, but I still tried to keep up with with whomever I found in front of me. I finished 7 out of 10 for my age group, 20 minutes later than I'd hoped, but it is still May and that was my fourth mtb ride of the year. Congrats to the rest of the WW crew who all found their way to the podium, except for Ian whose tire was attacked, not by a goathead, by a non-native nail.

My goal now is to squeeze in as much time on the bike as my job, the garden and the weather will allow before the WP hillclimb so I don't completely blow up like last year. Tonight it was just a quick turn around the northern trails where I failed once again to make it up the last foot of that stupid little hill, but there's always the next time. I did get to hear a fairly talented starling in the cottonwood; he had me stopping by the tree looking up for a cat when he quickly switched to a redtailed hawk screech. Kind of cool. Tomorrow: Olde Stage.