Category: Bike Adventures

I love riding my bike because there’s never a dull moment when you see the world from two wheels.

Pacelining, Profanity and Dogs

On By Alicia McCauleyIn Bike Adventures3 Comments

There is a little bit of background information crucial to understanding today’s vignette.  I promise to be brief if you promise tolerate a little cycling terminology.  I know it’s a lot to ask, but I have faith in you.

To begin with, let’s talk about the term ‘pacelining’.  Pacelining basically means riding very close together in a single file line at a uniform speed.  This means the person in the front of the line works the hardest, takes the brunt of the wind, watches for obstacles, etc.  And in an unofficial paceline, the person in the front sets the pace.  The riders in the middle make sure to keep close to each others’ wheels to ensure maximum efficiency.  The person in the back calls out approaching traffic, stays close to the person in front of them, and basically kicks back to enjoy the work done by everyone in front of them.  In real pacelines, there is a lot of “peeling off” which involves a constant rotation of the person in front moving to the back, but that does not apply to today’s story.  The thing you need to know is that it is never, ever, EVER acceptable for the slacker in the back to tell the person in the front to go faster.  Is is bad, bad form.

The second thing you need to know is I rarely use profanity.  I happen to think that I sound stupid when I curse.  Believe it or not, I try to avoid sounding stupid.  On the rare occasion that I employ a naughty word, it is NEVER done seriously.  I don’t curse when I’m angry, frustrated, or any other time I might actually mean it.  The sparse profanity is saved for humorous outbursts and a select group of people who share my slightly off sense of humor.

So, now that we’ve covered pacelining and profanity, let’s get to the story.

On Monday, I went cycling with my friends April and That Laura.  We rode out to beautiful Igo and then took a spin out to Happy Valley.  I was in the front, April was in the middle, and That Laura was in the back.  I was quite enjoying our pace and the interesting scenery that is Happy Valley.  For instance, we passed a house with a white flocked Christmas tree standing proudly in the front yard.  Hey, I had a pole in my Christmas tree stand, so who am I to judge?  There is also the house that is a shrine to Coca Cola.  Everything Coca Cola has come to die there.  Me, I prefer Dr. Pepper, but to each his own.

Anyway, we were happily pedaling along when That Laura yelled from the back of the paceline “Faster!  You have to go faster!”

Did she just tell me, the Paceline Leader, to go faster?  The audacity!  The moxy!  The cajones!  That Laura deserved nothing less than a sarcastic tongue lashing.  The words “You get up here and go faster, bi*ch!” were just about to launch themselves out of my mouth when Laura said these terrifying words, “Faster!  You have to go faster!  He’s gaining on us!”

He?  He who?  I looked back and running uncomfortably close to That Laura was a black dog, the kind that herd sheep and other smelly animals.  The owner was yelling at the little black blur, but the dog was obviously mesmerized by our tasty Spandex clad legs.  This dog was way too close for comfort.  We cranked harder and the dog turned and ran back home.

If you’ve ever spoken to me for more that five minutes, you know I’ve had several incidents with animals while on The Rocket.  I’ve raced with a turkey, been pooped on by a bird, hissed at by a snake, and was spooked so badly by turkey vultures that I almost wet my Spandex.  Never, ever have I been chased by a dog.  And never, ever have I been so frightened on my bike.  After the dog retreated, my heart pounded against my ribs.

So, the next time my friend, That Laura, tells me to go faster I will not think of sarcastic tongue lashings to deliver.  I will tuck my head down, spin my pedals extra hard, and go faster, bi*ch.

Tension & Resolution

On By Alicia McCauleyIn Bike Adventures, Teacher TalesLeave a comment

One of the thousands of reasons I love riding my bike is that is gives me opportunity for reflection.  Tonight in spin class, I cranked and cranked and cranked the tension knob until my quads were bands of fire.  Then my spin instructor told me to crank it up some more.  Just when I thought my calf muscles would burst, he said, “Good job.  Now take it down.  Way down.”  I cannot adequately express the relief I felt when all the tension was released.  I was so happy I was seeing white.

It’s appropriate that I was reflecting on tension tonight because I was teaching a lesson on that very thing today.  Our focus during writing was how to create tension in fictional pieces.  We talked about pushing the problem to its absolute limit and then providing a satisfying resolution.

As I conferred with students, I was thrilled with their desire to add layers to their conflict.  I was equally pleased with the thought they were giving to word choice and expression.  They wrote with consideration for their audience and it showed.

They were truly crafting stories.  All year long I’ve been cranking up my expectations, impressing upon them the skills and habits of writers.  Lessons on voice, word gathering, developing setting, creating tension, word choice.  It all came together today.    Today my sweet six year olds internalized the most important lesson of all.  They are writers, real writers.  I couldn’t ask for a better resolution.

How To Come In Last, Dead Last

On By Alicia McCauleyIn Bike Adventures3 Comments

Frank and I rode cyclocross this morning.  As I’ve mentioned before I am horrible at cyclocross.  When I do cyclocross, I come in last, dead last.  And yet, I love cyclocross.  It is so much fun.  No, really, it is.  So, I thought I’d take a moment to impart to you the tricks of coming in dead as a doornail last.

1.  Wear lots of layers to stay warm.  On the top layer, make sure you wear a jersey that instantly lowers expectations of your cycling skills or lack thereof.  I like to wear my Fat Cyclist jerseys because people think, “Oh, she’s a fat cyclist.  She’s not going to be very fast or very good.”  Under no circumstances should you wear a jersey emblazoned with words like speedy, racing, or any other macho phrases.  It’s better to give people a realistic picture right from the get go.

2.  When encountering sections that are too technical, too scary, or otherwise icky get off your bike and walk.  I walked a muddy the first time and rode through it the second.  The second time was way more fun.  By avoiding technical, scary, or icky sections you’ll also avoid doing an endo over the handlebars.  My friend, Nick, did not adhere to this tip and ended up landing on his noggin and cracking his helmet.  (His crash did make a really super photo.)  Instead of crashing on the dangerous sections, save your falls for perfectly flat, slightly muddy surfaces.  You’ll look like an idiot when you lay your bike down, but other than a few bruises and a scratched up ego, you’ll survive unscathed.  Honestly, I think this was just Frank’s way of showing me who the boss is.

3.  Ride the track by braille.  Go slow enough that your glasses will be perpetually fogged.  This will make the track impossible to see.  Instead you’ll know you’ve veered off the track when you start running over large bushes.  When you hit a bush, turn your wheel the other way until you hit another bush.  Or a tree.  Or the caution tape marking the course.  Riding by braille is way more exciting than actually seeing where you’re going.

4.  Ride slow enough that you get lapped by the leaders.  Better yet, ride slow enough that you get lapped by everyone.  Including the kids.  If possible, ride slow enough that the leaders lap you twice.  That way when time is up, you will have only completed two laps and everyone else will have completed three or four.  They will finish looking red-faced, muddy, sweaty, completely pooped, and ready to hurl.  You will finish red-faced, muddy, sweaty, but with plenty of energy to drink a slug of hot cocoa and scarf a banana or two.

5.  This tip comes from Mrs. Bike Mechanic, Amy.  She is way faster than I am, but I thought this was a good tip anyway.  In the morning when you’re carefully pulling on layer after layer of Spandex, do not put your toe warmers on.  That way when you’re standing around waiting for the race to start, your toes can freeze so completely that they will be void of all sensation.  When the race starts, you won’t be able to tell whether your feet have connected with your pedals or not.  This will allow you to pedal the air a few times without actually moving your bike forward.  Genius, Amy.

6.  Be a martyr.  At the end of the race, ask people how their race was.  Hopefully they’ll answer “Well, I didn’t come in last.”  Then you can swoop in and say “That’s because I came in last.  You’re welcome.”  It’s important to let others in the race know how much you’ve sacrificed on their behalf.  Only a benevolent martyr such as yourself would be willing to save everyone else from coming in last, dead last.

My Favorite Tree

On By Alicia McCauleyIn Bike AdventuresLeave a comment

Today was my first bike ride of 2009.  I’m a little nervous about this cycling season.  Although I am part of the Fat Cyclist team, I don’t have a local team to speak of.

The bad thing about that is nobody will be setting up routes for me, telling me where to show up, and making sure I get my miles in.  The good thing is nobody will be setting up routes for me, telling me where to show up, and making sure I get my miles in.  I am my own woman, responsible for all of my training.  Ok, I’m not quite convinced it’s a good thing yet, but I’m trying to see it as an opportunity for growth.  The other good thing about going solo is that I can just tell my cycling friends when and where I’m riding and they’re likely to show up.

Today I rode in the good company of my hubby, Sir Steve (the bike mechanic), Nick (the captain of the CJD team), my friend Marie, and That Laura.  I piled on layers and layers of spandex and set out to face the unforgiving wind.  It was blowing to the South, which was fantastic when I was cruising South, but otherwise meant I was caught in a nasty crosswind or, even worse, a punishing headwind.  We rode out to Palo Cedro and Millville to my very favorite place to ride, Millville Plains.

Millville Plains is always beautiful.  It’s sweeping views and natural landscape leave me awestruck.  Today was particularly stunning.  The edges of snowcapped Lassen were razor-sharp against the blue sky.  As the wind pushed at my back, I watched the waves of grass and weeds roll like the ocean.  And of course there is my favorite tree.

It’s an oak tree, I think, and it stands all alone watching guard over the plains.  Maybe at some point in your life you’ve been asked that inane question, “If you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be?”  Hands down, I’d be that one.

As I rode home with the wind blowing dirt onto my teeth and pushing The Rocket around like a kite, I thought of my favorite tree.  It is unmoved by wind.  It is impervious to cold.  It is unfazed by the scorching summers.  It girds strength from roots, pushed deep beneath the plains.  This season I will be like my tree, mustering strength from deep down.  I will stand guard against cancer.  Although I am without a local team, I am not alone.  I am surrounded by friends who stand with me.

Snow Day

On By Alicia McCauleyIn Bike Adventures2 Comments

Fifty seven degrees is a little on the cool side.  Especially inside.  That was the temperature in my house when I crawled out from under a mound of blankets and started to pull on layers for a Sunday morning ride.

Bike shorts, wool socks, sports bra, thermal top, jersey, fleece cycling pants, earwarmers, shoes, toe warmers, jacket, full fingered gloves, helmet, and glasses.  Between the gloves and the helmet I realized I had to go to the bathroom.  So I peeled it all off and a few minutes later jimmied it all on again.

After a pair of clementines and a tasty bowl of oatmeal, I stepped outside and watched my breath float away in great, pallid puffs.  It was going to be a cold one all right.

As I stood in my driveway waiting for Laura, the tiniest of snowflakes began to tumble down.  If I looked carefully enough I could see one every fifteen seconds or so.  Laura pulled up breathless and rosy cheeked and we set off for a long climb to Shasta Dam.

We cajoled our bikes along the frigid roads, the flakes falling in even sheets, resting on my handlebars, forming an icy crust on my bike computer.  We climbed closer to the Dam and snow began to settle in the crevices of the mountains.

The air smelled clean and big gulps of it seemed to eradicate life’s turmoils.  My toes were frozen statues.  My nose was a faucet.  And I was carefree.  Carefree as snow dusted my helmet and melted on my gloves.  I grinned and stuck out my tongue, catching snowflakes as I pedaled.  We passed a mother walking with her little girl.  The little girl had her tongue out, too, and we exchanged smiles.  Laura and I rode in an almost giddy state.  Every few seconds one of us would giggle or exclaim “This is so cool!”  We reached Shasta Dam and took a moment to snap photos.  As sweat and snow dampened our clothes, we began the decent home.  The cold was bitter against my teeth and unprotected face.  Ice crystals pricked my skin and my eyes welled up with tears.  I could say that the tears were from the cold, but in truth they were an unbidden response to the splendor of the snow.

The world doled out beauty today and I was fortunate enough to catch some of it on my tongue.