41st Birthday Route
To celebrate my birthday this year, I decided to "ride my age". For those of you not "in the know", this means a ride where you travel one mile for every year of your life. It sounds like a lot of fun, but it has more in common with that other birthday favorite - one swat for every year - than most people realize. Fortunately, most of the pain of riding your age doesn't hit until the later years. For a regular cyclist, it is a rite of passage to show that you still have what it takes. For those of us who have been off the bike for a while, the "rite of passage" is more like a college hazing event than a celebration.
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As you can guess, I fell into the latter group this year. My total mileage for the year (since January) is less than 100 miles, the bulk of which was obtained on the stationary bike in the last couple of weeks. But with careful planning, a flat route, plenty of rest stops, and an iron determination, I managed to survive the ride.
There are several concerns when riding in Southern Louisiana, none of which involve hills. Traffic is the biggest and it is usually mitigated by carefully controlling the route. This usually involves loading up the bike, driving to the secret cycling haven where cyclists are free to roam with low speed limits and little traffic, and riding to your heart's content. But several things interfered with this plan: I hate loading up the bike; cycling nirvana is only a few miles from my house; and sometimes I'm just a bit stubborn.
Years ago I bought a really nifty trailer for hauling the kids around. If you haven't tried this, it is great fun. I used it until the kids outgrew it. I had big plans to use it again someday and they finally came to fruition. I removed the seating and added a platform to convert it to a cargo trailer. Someday, I hope to do some touring, but that is a story for antoher day.
So, I decided to bring along the trailer for this ride. I lashed a cooler to the deck, dropped in a bag of ice, loaded it with a few snacks and lots of water, then hit the road! The trailer was such an odd sight that traffic literally slowed down to gawk (gawking is a state of Louisiana passtime - just ask any commuter caught on the freeway in the morning). The sight was so surprising, people moved way to teh left when passing - something they never do when I ride without the trailer.
Although the cooler garnered some good-natured jokes from other cyclists, they were admittedly jealous when I stopped and pulled out something ice-cold to drink. With the heat and humidity in August, it was a welcome relief. And I needed LOTS of relieving.
The first ten miles were great. I wasn't racing anyone (and the racer-boys kept passing me like I was sitting still), but I was moving fast and felt good. The next ten miles were a bit rougher, but I promised myself a stop every ten miles to cool down and fill up. At the end of the third ten miles, I was feeling the pain. My arse had enough and my back and neck were reminding me that I hadn't sat in that position in many, many moons. By the time I made it to the last fifteen miles, I was stopping nearly as much as I was riding. Ride for three, stop for five, ride for two stop for ten, ride for one, seriously consider calling for pickup....
I finally made it home. I threw my hands in the air like I just won the Tour - then promptly grabbed for the bars as my bike reminded me how twitchy it can be. I had day dreams (hallucinations?) about breaking the ribbon across the finish line to the cheers of my family, but I was greeted by an empty driveway. So, I parked the bike and started digging for my keys. Once I emptied my pack, I went over to the neighbors to ask for the emergency key. After they came up empty, I dug out the hammock, grabbed my last cold water, and holed up in the back yard to wait for someone to come home.
It was a great ride after all.
View Larger Map
As you can guess, I fell into the latter group this year. My total mileage for the year (since January) is less than 100 miles, the bulk of which was obtained on the stationary bike in the last couple of weeks. But with careful planning, a flat route, plenty of rest stops, and an iron determination, I managed to survive the ride.
There are several concerns when riding in Southern Louisiana, none of which involve hills. Traffic is the biggest and it is usually mitigated by carefully controlling the route. This usually involves loading up the bike, driving to the secret cycling haven where cyclists are free to roam with low speed limits and little traffic, and riding to your heart's content. But several things interfered with this plan: I hate loading up the bike; cycling nirvana is only a few miles from my house; and sometimes I'm just a bit stubborn.
Years ago I bought a really nifty trailer for hauling the kids around. If you haven't tried this, it is great fun. I used it until the kids outgrew it. I had big plans to use it again someday and they finally came to fruition. I removed the seating and added a platform to convert it to a cargo trailer. Someday, I hope to do some touring, but that is a story for antoher day.
So, I decided to bring along the trailer for this ride. I lashed a cooler to the deck, dropped in a bag of ice, loaded it with a few snacks and lots of water, then hit the road! The trailer was such an odd sight that traffic literally slowed down to gawk (gawking is a state of Louisiana passtime - just ask any commuter caught on the freeway in the morning). The sight was so surprising, people moved way to teh left when passing - something they never do when I ride without the trailer.
Although the cooler garnered some good-natured jokes from other cyclists, they were admittedly jealous when I stopped and pulled out something ice-cold to drink. With the heat and humidity in August, it was a welcome relief. And I needed LOTS of relieving.
The first ten miles were great. I wasn't racing anyone (and the racer-boys kept passing me like I was sitting still), but I was moving fast and felt good. The next ten miles were a bit rougher, but I promised myself a stop every ten miles to cool down and fill up. At the end of the third ten miles, I was feeling the pain. My arse had enough and my back and neck were reminding me that I hadn't sat in that position in many, many moons. By the time I made it to the last fifteen miles, I was stopping nearly as much as I was riding. Ride for three, stop for five, ride for two stop for ten, ride for one, seriously consider calling for pickup....
I finally made it home. I threw my hands in the air like I just won the Tour - then promptly grabbed for the bars as my bike reminded me how twitchy it can be. I had day dreams (hallucinations?) about breaking the ribbon across the finish line to the cheers of my family, but I was greeted by an empty driveway. So, I parked the bike and started digging for my keys. Once I emptied my pack, I went over to the neighbors to ask for the emergency key. After they came up empty, I dug out the hammock, grabbed my last cold water, and holed up in the back yard to wait for someone to come home.
It was a great ride after all.
posted by Buck at 7:55 AM
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