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Ride report: AIDS/LifeCycle 12

All by myself (again) at the VA Center in Los Angeles.
It's probably not much of a surprise that, yet again, my ALC experience differed significantly from what I expected. The short answer: I completed every mile (and then some) for the seventh time, not all of those miles were easy, I set no daily speed records, and I mostly avoided getting grumpy.

This year, I'm not going to do a detailed day-by-day, mile-by-mile description of what happened. You've heard it all already. Except where noted, the route was essentially the same as before. Rather, here are some random observations from my week on the road.

First, the numbers: Here is my in-motion average pace for every day of every ALC that I've done. Significantly, I set no records this year. However, my elapsed time on several days was better because I took fewer and shorter stops. I was among the first 100 finishers on six out of the seven days, even though many other riders were much faster than me.

ALC5ALC6ALC7ALC8ALC9ALC11ALC12
Day 113.312.8*13.513.314.116.416.3
Day 214.514.014.114.215.216.215.7
Day 313.211.913.612.813.816.114.0
Day 413.612.713.312.314.015.315.1
Day 512.011.012.111.4+12.8+14.514.4#
Day 613.113.212.99.7^14.015.715.6
Day 713.312.313.213.914.215.915.8

Notes:
* = Longer, more difficult route along upper Skyline to Hwy. 84
+ = Longer, more difficult route via Solvang
^ = Route truncated at 15 miles due to heavy rain
# = Rode 14 extra miles, mostly flat

Speed demon? Despite my slower overall pace, I blasted right through my previous top speed ever on a bicycle -- apparently reaching 39.7 mph briefly on Day 4 in the dunes such of Oceano. But more significantly, there were countless times during the week when I exceeded 30 mph, which is highly unusual for me. This could mean that I've finally become a little more comfortable with descending ... at least on familiar, straight roads.


Way off the official route. Bad me, bad.
Renegade: For the first time, I (sort of) broke the event rules on Day 5 and went off-route. When I reached Lompoc early in the day, I didn't want to wait around for hours until my hotel room became available, so I decided to do one of my favorite short rides in the area: the ride out to the coast and the remote Amtrak station at Surf. I did my best to make sure that nobody saw me make the turn off the official route, but in the perfectly flat terrain, I'm sure some riders saw the silhouette of a strange solitary rider going the wrong way toward the coast. I greatly enjoyed this part of the week for several reasons: It was nice to not have to worry about other riders for a while, it took me to one of my favorite places on the Central Coast, and it helped build my confidence in being able to ride every mile. I was a little worried about whether there would be any official consequences for my renegade ride; such fears were probably quite overblown on my part, but I'll admit to a sigh of relief the next morning when there wasn't a violation ticket attached to my bike.

Tender manly bits: About six weeks before the ride, I bought and installed a new saddle because my old one was beginning to fail after nearly 30,000 miles. I made a key mistake in not getting my new saddle professionally fitted, but the mistake didn't become apparent until a couple of days into the event. I started to have significant, shall we say, interface issues with the saddle, and by the end of Day 4 in Santa Maria, I had managed to get some ugly sores in my nether regions. Because I obviously wasn't thinking clearly, I didn't make the obvious connection until partway through Day 5, when I realized that I should tilt the front of my saddle downward. After a quick adjustment by the helpful Sports Basement bike tech at Rest Stop 2, it was a world of difference -- enough that I rode those extra 14 miles that day just because doing so wasn't painful anymore. (But I'm just now finally beginning to fully heal from the damage that was done.)

Leg: At lunch on Day 3 in Bradley, I visited Sports Medicine for some attention on my right leg, which had started to bother me. I got some tape put on my leg (although it came off within the first five miles and had to be reapplied later that night in Paso Robles), and I got additional tape at camp in Ventura. The pain in my leg was starting to scare me, and I took most of the hills very gingerly the rest of the week. (This probably accounts for most of my speed differential between this year and last year.) I don't regret getting the attention, and although it was a first for me to get taped up, my problems paled in comparison to those of many other riders ... and in the end, I felt a bit silly for using event resources for what turned out to be a very minor matter.

Teams and cool kids: In past years, I've experienced frustration, anger, and depression over the strong presence of "teams" of riders on the event. This year, however, they didn't really bother me at all. The big reason, I believe, is that most of the teams I saw were much more well-behaved on the road than in previous years. Only once all week was I passed on the right by another cyclist (who, yes, was part of a pack of matching jerseys).

Santa Cruz: Much to my surprise, we used another new route out of Santa Cruz on Day 2 ... and it was, by and large, the same route we used for the first time last September in DBD2! There were no rush hour-related slowdowns and very few traffic signals, and it was generally a much more pleasant experience ... except for that nasty, evil hill on Rio Del Mar Blvd. (Strava says 0.3 mile at only 6.9%, but the beginning is much worse.)

Backwards winds: More than in any other year that I can remember, the winds were not favorable. On Day 2, we had headwinds heading out of Salinas (where, last year, strong tailwinds helped me get through the rain), and on Day 3, the final 12 miles into Paso Robles were much more difficult than usual due to very strong headwinds that drove my pace way down for the day. On most other days, the usual tailwinds were not as strong as in the past.

21st century intrudes: It's a sad fact of life in the 21st century that security paranoia (some would say security theater) is a part of our lives. This showed itself on Day 0, when we were told of the new rule that all bags and packs on the event -- including hydration packs -- required an additional identification tag. And it showed up again on Day 6, when the route was temporarily shut down after a pressure cooker was found by the side of the route. (I'd gone through before this happened, and I didn't see it.) I can't fault the event staff one bit for the heightened security consciousness, but it's still sad that such things are now part of everyday life, and it makes it harder to forget about the outside world while on the event.

News blackout and social media: In my early years of ALC before I had a smartphone, it was an amazing experience to go the entire week basically without hearing news of the outside world. But when Facebook started to become part of everyone's lives, it was very nice to be able to follow other riders online during the event, and to share one's status both with those riders and with friends and supporters elsewhere. But one big problem of using Facebook during the event is that news from the outside world invariably seeps into one's news feed. When the revelations of NSA domestic surveillance came out, I quickly knew about them, and I spent much of my evening reading more about them, even though I knew that doing so would upset me about the state of the world and take my focus away from the event. One of the magical things of ALC is the ability to get away from everything, but our increasing use of social media on the event seems to make that more difficult if not impossible.

Solitude: Nobody ever claims that ALC is a good opportunity to experience solitude. But because of my riding style of quick/skipped rest stops, I often managed to get the road mostly to myself. That was especially true on Day 7 this year, when I rode the 40 miles from Rest Stop 1 straight through to the end, making me the sixth person to finish the ride. My early morning ride along the undeveloped coast before Mailbu, with nobody around me and before all the packs of local cyclists hit the road, was my highlight of the week. But the cost of getting such an experience during ALC is very high: Skipping rest stops and riding hard are not for everyone, and doing so means that you don't get to experience the rolling party. This, of course, is usually quite fine by me.

A rare shot of me on the event, this time with
Lorri Lee Lown on duty at the Otter Pop Stop on Day 2.
The Strava effect: Again this year, I took almost no photos during the ride. Before I started using Strava, I'd often take "photo breaks" which usually were more about having a quick rest than capturing any scenery. But the result is that, now, I end up with very few photographic memories of my week. I'm not sure I need another set of photos of the same things I've seen so many times before (just how many pictures does one need of the fog on Skyline Drive on Day 1?), but it's definitely the case that using Strava stokes my self-competitive fires, perhaps in a way that's not entirely appropriate on an event such as ALC.

The Day 6 fustercluck: For those of us who ride at even just a moderate pace, Day 6 is really two completely separate rides: the 25-mile sprint to Rest Stop 2, a long rest of an hour or more, and the rest of the day. This is because we can't proceed past Rest Stop 2 until 9 a.m., when Caltrans clears a lane for us over a narrow bridge on U.S. 101. Invariably, Caltrans is late in finishing their work, so we all bunch up in the rest stop and wait ... this year, until 9:20. This causes, in essence, a second mass start -- much like the Day 1 ride-out -- with packs of riders immediately entering the dangerous freeway and continuing in large groups all the way to lunch in Santa Barbara. That part of the ride has become my least favorite part of the week, and it's always a challenge for me to improve my mood to complete the rest of this difficult day without getting overly grumpy. After so many years, one would think that Caltrans would know exactly what we need and when we need it. Here's hoping this situation can be improved in the years to come.

Dazed and confused? Toward the end of the week, I became almost exclusively focused on finishing the ride, and finishing strong. I probably rode harder than I should have done, and I got a big wake-up call on Day 6 that I might have taken things a bit too far. While riding on the bike path through Santa Barbara, I reached a traffic signal where a roadie was standing. He looked at me and said, "Do you know where you are?" I replied, "Yes, about to have my ice cream" (at Paradise Pit), which was the correct response. But I was probably in such a trance that I might have looked a bit out of it.

Lots of fun. I stopped to take off my jacket (and this pic).
"How do you feel?" "I do not understand the question." And this gets right to the heart of my ALC experiences. Every year, I say that I'm going to have more fun on the event. But the definition of "fun" is quite fluid and nebulous. For many, "fun" on ALC means enjoying the rest stops and roadside attractions that so many volunteers have worked so hard to create, riding together with friends, and simply being part of the mass experience. But for me, the most fun I usually have consists of overcoming personal challenges and having plenty of solitary "me" time to ponder life, the universe, and everything, while knowing that more than 500 people are there to support me in case something goes awry. On the days that I deliberately rode out a bit late to be among more riders, I quickly found myself getting frustrated, and I overexerted myself to get back closer to the front of the group. Perhaps it's time to stop expecting that I'd have any other type of "fun" on the event.

One thing, however, has not changed since my pre-ride report: I'm still fairly certain that I will not be riding in ALC 2014, although I still encourage others to do so if that is what's right for them.

Beyond the millions of dollars and our strong visual statement, AIDS/LifeCycle is a transformative event for many. And many of those transformations do not manifest themselves until after the event, sometimes long after. The week gives us an opportunity to get away from our everyday existences and reflect on how we're living our lives. Quite often, we decide that one or more changes are necessary. I think that's the case for me again this year.

In the meantime, though, it's full speed ahead with Double Bay Double 3. For the third year, I'll be producing this ride for DSSF to benefit the San Francisco AIDS Foundation, and I'd be honored to have you as part of it. As of today, the ride is already more than 40% full; the limit is 50 riders because life is too short for me to worry about permits. This two-day, 210-mile event captures some of the magic that makes ALC great, but it does so in a much smaller, more intimate event where everybody gets to know pretty much everybody else. Although we still follow ALC safety rules, the other aspects of the event are generally far more informal and collegial. Last year, we raised more than $20,000 for SFAF, and I hope to easily surpass that this year. Be sure to sign up early because, this year, the ride is the same weekend as the Monterey Jazz Festival, so you'll need to book your hotel room in Marina very soon.

Beyond that, what's next? Damn good question.

Traditional pre-ALC musings

With yesterday's 51-mile ride from Reno to Hallelujah Junction and back, and today's 44-mile ride from Carson City to Gardnerville and back, my training season has come to a close. I'll probably be on the bike a little bit this week, but only to make sure everything's still running OK after I give the bike a much-needed cleaning.

One week from tonight, I'll be in Santa Cruz at the end of Day 1 of AIDS/LifeCycle 12 (or, as they're apparently calling it now at ALC World HQ, "AIDS/LifeCycle 2013"). And I've already told a few people, so it's no secret, but this is probably my last ALC ride ... at least for now, and possibly beyond.

Eight years ago, I was not at all certain that I could ride from San Francisco to Los Angeles even once, let alone six times so far. I've bicycled every possible mile, with the only gap being the rain-shortened Day 6 three years ago. I've become a progressively better and stronger rider, so much so that I managed a first-100 finish every day of last year's event. And more important, thanks to you, I've raised more than $35,000 in vital funding for the San Francisco AIDS Foundation.

And I'm going to give this all up? Well, in a word, yes. Life changes, circumstances change, and people change. The event itself is still the same incredible, transformative epic that it's always been (it's possibly even better now), and it's entirely likely that I'll continue as a training ride leader. I'll also continue to organize and produce the Double Bay Double for Different Spokes San Francisco. (If this year's event reaches the 50-rider limit, I'm open to giving up my spot and driving a support vehicle so that someone else can ride.) So I'm not going away (yet). But I'm not the same person I was eight years ago.

While I can still pump out 200 kilometers in a day (and, this year, even turn in my fastest elapsed time), I can distinctly feel that my multi-day endurance is beginning to decrease. I did very few days of consecutive long-mileage training this year because I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

Also, with just under 56,000 miles of cycling since June 1, 2004, it's increasingly the case that I'm growing more than a little bored of most of the places I can regularly cycle. (And some of the places I haven't been are simply too challenging to hold much appeal for me. One time up Mount Diablo was plenty for me.) When I lead training rides, I derive considerable energy from those around me, including many who are seeing new cycling territory. When I'm by myself, however, it's far more difficult to get excited about yet another ride up and down Foothill, Junipero Serra, and Alameda. (San Francisco folks can compare their own feelings about riding to Fairfax and back at the beginning and end of almost every ride.)

Another key factor for me is that, contrary to what you might expect, participating in ALC year after year causes me to gain weight that becomes tough to lose. I have consistently gained five to 10 pounds per year every year that I do the event; when I skipped the ride in 2011, I was able to lose those 40 pounds ... but they've started to come back. I could probably address this with a more rigorous training program, but I've steadfastly refused to get "serious" about whole-body training because, for me, it makes the whole thing even more like work and less like play. (To those of you who develop a tough training regimen and achieve great results, you have my respect and admiration.)

This training season has been particularly difficult for me. My "real life" has been unusually full of stress on several fronts, and it's been very difficult to detach from that, even while riding. This year's Mountain View training rides, while suitably challenging and successful, were appreciated by those who did them, but the growth in other Peninsula and South Bay training options left fewer riders (and ride leaders), making the logistics more difficult to manage, for a smaller group of riders. It's quite possible that the Distance Training rides have run their course (feel free to tell me if you disagree), and if I return for an eighth year of leading rides in the fall, I might take things in a different and interesting direction. (Yes, I've been thinking about it. No, I'm not ready to share.)

Then there's the whole matter of fundraising. After eight years of begging and pleading, too many of my friends are sick to death of me. And because so much of my life revolves around the ride, my circle of non-riding friends has become even smaller than it was before. As a result, much of my fundraising (about two-thirds this year) comes from other ALCers, past or present. I'm especially grateful for the donations from other riders, but I often feel as if taking this money is "cheating," even though it all ends up in the same pool anyway. I hope that some of the people who consciously avoid me now might reconsider that position when I don't have an upcoming event that wants their money.

So that takes us to next Sunday. I know I've said this many times before, but my plan is specifically not to be a seven-day speed demon. In fact, since this might be my last ALC ride, I'm seriously entertaining the notion about possibly riding a sweep bus for at least part of one day -- something I've never done before except in a rain-out. I might have longer days on the route so that I can experience more of the many sights along the way. (I've still never had a Pismo Beach cinnamon bun, although I'm not sure my stomach would appreciate it at that point in the week anyway.)

More importantly, I might ride more slowly so that seven days of consecutive riding might not harm my body as much as has happened in some previous years. On Monday after the ride, I have to be all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at work, and I don't have the luxury of a multi-day recovery period.

Also, I'm determined to make this year's ride be for me. Yes, that's a bit selfish, but I feel that I've earned it. This probably means little or no blogging during the week. I plan to ride with Strava just to keep my cycling history there complete, although I'm considering keeping the data private. I really don't want to feel any pressure to compete this year ... with anyone else or, at least as important, with myself. I probably will still try to put in a strong effort early on Day 1, mostly to beat the traditional fustercluck of the mass start out of the Cow Palace and up Skyline and 92 to the coast. But after that, all bets are off.

On Saturday, June 8, after I arrive in Los Angeles, we'll see how much of this actually happened. One thing is for certain: Something unexpected happens on every ALC ride. There will no doubt be many fascinating stories for me to tell. Thanks to everyone who has been -- and will be -- part of my ALC 2013 experience. See you on the road.

Ride report: 6th annual Altamont Pass Double Metric (5/4/2013)

Go, riders!

After six years of hosting the Altamont Pass ride, the one thing I've learned is that each ride presents its own unique set of challenges. This year's ride was no exception, but our intrepid group of 15 riders and six volunteers conquered the challenges and turned in excellent performances.

Each rider returned to Mountain View under their own power, and only one rider chose to get a lift between two intermediate rest stops ... although one rider started to head the wrong way down Altamont Pass toward Tracy! That would have been a lot of bonus miles.

Speaking of Altamont Pass, we were treated to something that had never happened before on this ride: backwards winds. The climb to the top (which, as you discovered, wasn't all that much of a climb anyway) was a little more difficult, but the descent was quite literally a breeze, thanks to the unusual winds out of the northeast. This also made our return across the Livermore Valley quite a bit easier than usual, although the rapidly increasing temperatures began to pose their own challenges as the day progressed.

Although no temperature records were broken, highs were running about 10 degrees above normal in the East Bay. If you haven't had much heat training this season (and, given our wacky winter weather, that's not surprising), you might have been caught off guard by how your body reacted to the heat. In my case, my fluid consumption went way up, so much so that I ran out of water just before the Hayward rest stop -- something that almost never happens to me.

Another thing that happened to me in the heat was that I found myself taking many more short stops than usual between the official rest stops. There's no shame at all in doing so. I also took care to replace not just water, but also electrolytes and sodium. I slowed my pace a bit; while it would be exaggerating to say that I went into "survival mode," there was a part of the afternoon where I simply wanted to get through the miles without damage, and I took extra care to listen to what my body was saying. It's rarely wrong.

On the event in June, we've been fortunate the past few years to have unusually cool temperatures. But it's entirely normal for afternoon temperatures to reach into the 80s or even the 90s on several days of the event. Also, just like yesterday, many days of the event pass through several microclimates. You can go from cool to hot to cool to hot again all in the same day, and you might even be taking your jacket off and putting it back on multiple times. Remember the lessons you learned yesterday, and put them into practice next month. (And take note that midday temperatures can sometimes be surprisingly cool despite a warm start: When we leave Paso Robles on the morning of Day 4, it can be bright and sunny, but it can be foggy and damp just 20 miles later as we descend to the coast.)

I also want to take a couple of minutes to thank all of our volunteers on this ride. We were extremely fortunate that we had nothing more serious than a couple of bicycle adjustments, shuttling one rider, and handing out lots of water and salt. I want to assure all of the volunteers that your presence was definitely needed and appreciated; it's impossible to overstate the sense of security that's present when you know that people are available to help if an incident occurs. (And, as Murphy would attest from several previous rides, the lack of support volunteers often happens precisely on the rides where they end up being needed the most.)

Trivia department: I can answer one of the questions about the two unexpected events we encountered along the way. The crowd at Quarry Lakes Regional Park in Fremont in the morning was the Western Pacific Marathon/Half Marathon/10K/5K.

But I am flummoxed by the cycling event we saw going the other way between Livermore and Pleasanton in the morning. I can't find anything about it online, and given that many of the participants had the same jersey and they had ribbons of different colors that suggested multiple routes, I would think that it would have been announced somewhere. Any ideas?

A ride of 200 kilometers is your introduction to the steeped-in-tradition world of randonneuring: long-distance, unsupported, non-competitive cycling. In this country, Randonneurs USA is the main organization in this sport that traces its origins all the way back to late 19th-century Europe: "The first recorded audax cycling event took place on June 12, 1897, twelve Italian cyclists attempted the challenge of cycling from Rome to Naples, a distance of 230 km." RUSA rides often feel much like ALC rides, with the same spirit of camaraderie ... but generally without the high levels of rider support we have. RUSA membership is a bargain at $20 per year; the quarterly print magazine American Randonneur is worth the price alone just for the ride reports and cycling tips.

Two randonneuring groups in this area are Santa Cruz Randonneurs and San Francisco Randonneurs; each offers a series of events year-round. But where my training rides stop at 200km, the RUSA rides are just getting started, with distances of 300km, 400km, 600km, 1000km, and 1200km -- the distance of the legendary once-every-four-years (next in 2015) Paris-Brest-Paris. Many ALCers are RUSA members, and it's not uncommon to spot ALC jerseys on their rides.

What's next for us? In past years, I'd be saying thank you and wishing you all well in June. But this year, thanks to the unusual schedule and the unusual weather, we've got one more ride on the calendar. On Saturday, May 18, we'll have our first-ever celebration ride. Because these are the Distance Training rides, it wouldn't suffice to get all suited up just to ride up the street to the next Starbucks. Instead, we're going to tackle one of the more challenging and incredibly scenic rides of the South Bay: the ascent of Highway 9 to Saratoga Gap. Then, we'll descend the west side of Alpine Road toward the coast and climb back up and over Highway 84. This ride is "only" 62 miles; there are really only two significant climbs the whole day, but that adds up to almost 5,000 feet of climbing. The good news is that there are no surprise climbs at the end of the day; we'll proceed directly down Alameda and Foothill to Loyola Corners with no detours. The meet time is also a comfortably reasonable 9:30, which means that you can take southbound Caltrain to this ride. What a treat! Find out more and RSVP here.

Congratulations on an epic day, and thank you for being part of AIDS/LifeCycle.

Photos by Andrew Bennett


Ride report: ALC12 Distance Training #9 (4/20/2013)

Go, riders!

Now that we've rocketed past the century milestone, each of our rides is nothing less than epic. Our group of 20 riders (including one who overslept but still managed to join us almost on time) experienced a little bit of everything yesterday: jubilation, excitement, wonder, frustration, and even some disappointment along our 113-mile route. Eighteen of us made it back to Mountain View under our own power; we had one minor collision and one minor medical issue, but nothing serious. Big thanks to super SAG driver Keith and rest stop volunteer Tom, without whom the day would not have been possible.

We got to see a little bit of everything that the South Bay (and beyond) has to offer: the big city, small towns, agricultural flatlands, rolling foothills, secluded highlands. And we got to do a lot more open-road cycling than we're normally able to do on our rides closer to home. This was a significant change for a couple of reasons. Your overall pace might have gone up a little bit because you weren't stopping and starting so much. But also, riding nonstop for miles on end can feel a lot different if you're not used to it. Those of you who were riding with me from San Jose to Morgan Hill in the morning saw this when, after several nonstop miles, I simply couldn't maintain my ambitious pace any longer and had to let you go on by.

There's nothing wrong with slowing down during a long segment ... or even stopping safely to take a short break. If your sense of pride interferes, just whip out your camera or cellphone and tell others that you're taking a photo break! (But be sure to take plenty of true photo breaks, too. There's a lot to see between here and Los Angeles.)

This ride also strongly demonstrated the need to pace oneself. We started with 40 miles of almost perfectly flat riding, some of it even assisted with a generous tailwind that started at just about the optimal time. Early in the day with full energy reserves, it's tempting to open up and give it everything you've got, especially if you find flat-terrain cycling to be not the most exciting thing in the world. But, of course, we had plenty of climbing after that, including the return around the reservoirs that, to me, always ends up being much more difficult than the numbers suggest, no matter the ride.

That's also the case in June. While there's no shortage of climbing, there are also many stretches of long, flat cycling ... and once you've seen your first 63 agricultural fields, it can seem like you've seen them all. But endurance, not racing, is our long-term goal. Sure, it's OK to naturally go a bit faster on flat terrain, but if you're monitoring your heart rate either electronically or informally, my guess is that you probably don't want to be hitting your peak heart rate on flat terrain in the middle of nowhere.

I mentioned frustration and disappointment, too. Any time that you don't complete a ride as planned can wreak havoc with your head. Even though we aren't racers, many of us take a dreaded DNF (Did Not Finish) personally and let it fester into all sorts of toxic manifestations.

Last Saturday, I went to an 80-mile ALC training ride on our off weekend, and my ride did not go well at all. I finished every mile, but I was grumpy and sore at the end, and my body didn't get back to normal for several days afterward. I went out on my bike a few times in the past week, but each time, it felt like 30 or 40 miles was my limit, and by the end of each ride, I really wasn't wanting to go another foot. I was more than a little concerned that I wouldn't be able to complete yesterday's ride, and I had formulated backup plans to sweep the whole day or even drive a SAG vehicle myself. I had talked myself into believing that I couldn't do it.

Of course, I did complete yesterday's ride, and I finished strongly. My stats compared to last year were about the same. (See the "nerd detour" below.) The part of the ride from Gilroy back to San Jose was certainly difficult for me, but when I realized that I was going to make it, there was a sea change in how I approached the rest of the ride.

The moral is that most of us have bad days, and you can't let them get to you. Alas, I'm also well aware that it's much easier to say this that than it is to do this.

(Stats nerd detour: Last year, I recorded my ride with the Strava Android app. Yesterday, I recorded both on Strava and on my Garmin device, mostly because I was worried that the battery on the Garmin wouldn't last the whole day. The Strava stats showed me about 3.5% faster than did the Garmin stats -- something I've consistently seen when recording other rides with both devices. Again, the moral is that any of the stats we record using GPS devices are inaccurate and are only estimates, and it's generally not helpful to get bogged down in the precise details, but rather to look at long-term trends.)

What's next? It's the big one: the sixth annual Altamont Pass Double Metric. Our 200-kilometer (125-mile) journey takes us into the East Bay for the world's longest one-day ALC training ride. Like yesterday, it's a giant mix of urban and rural conditions ... but it has a little less climbing than yesterday's ride, and no giant hills at all. The biggest climb is the short westbound climb of the Dublin Grade, which is over in just a few minutes (last year, for me, 12 minutes).

The weather is the biggest factor in determining how tough the Altamont Pass ride can be. We've had days in the 60s, and we've had days where the temperature has exceeded 100 degrees. We've had light winds and strong winds. We've had a couple of light showers but, fortunately, no heavy rain. At two weeks out, it's rather pointless to make any predictions, but the early AccuWeather guess is suggesting cloudy skies, possibly cool temperatures, and perhaps some moderate wind.

Our meet time is 5:30 a.m., only half an hour earlier than yesterday, and you'll have until about 7:30 p.m. to complete the route. April has graciously volunteered to be a bike tech for us, and she'll be at our Livermore rest stop (mile 60) to take care of any mechanical issues that might arise. The route is mostly the same as last year, although we'll go back to riding through the McCarthy Ranch area on the way back instead of by the Great Mall, which was sometimes just a bit too stressful for so late in the day. We'll also ride a little bit more on Mission Blvd., now that most of the construction work is finally done after all these years. To find out more and RSVP, go here. (Also, I'm still looking for SAG drivers for the ride. If you know of someone who can help -- or if you'd rather drive than ride -- let me know.)

Thank you for being part of another epic day, and thank you for being part of AIDS/LifeCycle.

ALC12 Distance Training #11: Saratoga Gap (5/18/2013)

Date: Saturday, May 18
Meet time: 9:30 a.m.
Ride-out time: 10:00 a.m.
Meeting place: Parking lot at Villa and Franklin streets, Mountain View (across from the Tied House) (map)
City: Mountain View
Rain policy: Rain cancels
Category: 3 - moderate-fast pace (12-15 mph)
Terrain: 4 - long climbs
Miles: 62

Description:

It's the end of the sixth season of Distance Training rides, and we're wrapping things up in style with an all-new celebration ride this year.

This isn't just some simple run up the street to the next Starbucks and back. Noooooo. We'll climb all the way up Highway 9 from Saratoga to the top elevation of 2,673 feet -- that's higher than Mt. Tam -- and then enjoy an amazing backcountry descent on West Alpine Road into the community of La Honda. Then we'll climb Highway 84 back to the summit (only 1,477 feet in this direction, quite mercifully) and return directly to Mountain View on Alameda de las Pulgas and Foothill Expressway. No surprise hills near the end, no golf course, no La Cresta, no quarry ... we promise!

Total climbing on this ride is about 5,000 feet, but most of it isn't all that steep. For this celebration ride, our ride-out time is late enough that you can take Caltrain to get here in time for the start.

Click here to RSVP
RSVPs are requested but not required.

Ride report: ALC12 Distance Training #8 (4/6/2013)

Go, riders!

Cycling 100 miles in one day is one of the sport's signature achievements. Only a very small percentage of those who take up the sport ever complete even one century ride. But today, each and every one of our 22 riders completed Every Friendly Inch of our 100-mile route ... including at least three for whom this was their first century ever! Special thanks to SAG drivers Taryl (welcome back!) and Tom for being there when needed.

Calling any century ride "easy" wouldn't do justice to the amazing achievement this represents. But I believe it is fair to say that today's near-ideal weather certainly made things at least a bit "easier" for us, especially compared to last year's running of this same ride when temperatures soared to over 100 degrees.

And while today's route had (more than) its share of urban traffic, stop signs, and signals, everybody finished well within the time limit. Today's route was similar in difficulty and conditions to Day 4 of the event, so now we've done rides that are at least as challenging as six of the seven days of the event. We are in great shape with nearly two months to go!

Today's ride was not without its challenges, of course. We had several flats, many of which were no doubt caused by the vast amounts of broken glass and debris on the streets of the East Bay and San Jose. It seems as if this is becoming more of a problem for us, particularly in areas where budget cuts are affecting street maintenance, and particularly in areas where people seem to be acting more rude and inconsiderate of others. In June, fortunately, the route is checked each day by our awesome roadies, and most glass or debris is swept up long before we would ever see it. But that doesn't mean it never happens ... and when you're riding in a large group, it's important to call out (and, where safe to do so, point out) debris because other riders might not be able to see it.

There was only one significant climb today. But, unlike other rides where I've placed the big climbs near the beginning of the ride, today's climb was about two-thirds of the way through.

As climbs go, it really wasn't that bad, but even for me, it felt a whole lot different at mile 66 than it would have felt at mile 12. That's also a good simulation of what happens in June: While most big climbs are indeed early in the day, the day-after-day grind can make little hills feel much bigger later in the week. (And even the little McClellan Road hill probably felt a bit tougher than usual when I deviously placed it at mile 94.)

There are almost certainly no double-digit uphills on the event. I can't say that it won't ever happen, because it happened once a few years ago due to a rerouting, but it is definitely safe to say that we've done hills this season that are far worse than anything you'll encounter on the event.

As we get closer to the event, don't forget the ALC rules. I saw a few cases of side-by-side riding today, and that's not allowed on the event (even though, in a bike lane, it's legal in California). Remember that we need to leave a clear path for other riders to pass us. And don't forget to call out "car back," especially when we're not in a bike lane. There were a couple of times when I should have heard a callout from another rider. The ALC rules apply to all of us, regardless of our pace.

Because everyone on today's ride finished the entire route, each of you has now qualified to ride in this year's Altamont Pass Double Metric on Saturday, May 4 (just four weeks from today). If you RSVP by next Sunday the 14th, you'll also get a free commemorative T-shirt that will look great on you in camp. Find out more here. If you didn't ride with us today, you can still qualify by completing at least one ride of at least 100 miles before May 4.

And I just happen to have another chance for you coming up in two weeks! Join us on April 20 for our 113-mile ride all the way to Gilroy and back. We'll be using the same route that we debuted last year: through downtown San Jose and along Monterey Highway into Morgan Hill, then up into the hills near Gilroy Hot Springs, with a return around the south valley reservoirs. This is a fascinating ride, and it's just about as long and as hilly as Day 2 -- the longest day -- of the event. Find out more and RSVP here.

Note that the meet time for our next ride is 90 minutes earlier than today. (Ouch!) We meet in the dark at 6 a.m. and ride out at 6:30, just after sunrise. This helps us get through San Jose as early as possible before any traffic builds, and it gives us a full 13 hours of daylight to complete the ride (a little bit more than what you'll get on Day 2 in June), so nobody will need to feel pressured to go too fast. Pacing on such long rides is absolutely essential! I hope you'll join us for this memorable ride.

Congratulations again on a job well done today, and thank you for being part of AIDS/LifeCycle.

2013 Altamont Pass Double Metric FAQ

Last updated April 23
What is a double metric century?
Who should ride the Altamont Pass Double Metric?
Is qualification required?
Is pre-registration required?
Must I be registered for AIDS/LifeCycle?
What happens on ride morning?
Can I use the toilet at the nearby police station?
What's the weather going to be like?
Will we ride if it's raining?
What's the route?
Is the route marked?
Will we encounter other events along the route?
How much does the ride cost?
How fast do I need to ride?
Can I really ride just 12 mph?
Can I bring bicycle lighting and complete the route after sunset?
What happens if I'm not riding fast enough?
Do I have to ride the entire 200-kilometer route? Can I take a short cut?
What types of SAG service will be available?
Are hotels available near the meeting location?
Got more questions? Email me. Items of general interest will be added to this list.

What is a double metric century?
A double metric century is 200 kilometers, or approximately 125 miles, of bicycling in a single day.

Who should ride the Altamont Pass Double Metric?
This ride is designed for AIDS/LifeCycle riders who desire an extreme challenge to mark the culmination of their training season. The longest day on AIDS/LifeCycle is only about 109 miles, so you do not need to do this ride to be ready for the event. However, many riders have found that taking part in the double metric helps make the longest days of ALC seem a little bit easier.

Is qualification required?
You should have completed at least a 100-mile ride before May 4. Otherwise, the jump in mileage might be too much, and you might not be able to complete the ride, or you might injure yourself just a few weeks before AIDS/LifeCycle 12. You don't need to tell us what century you've done, but please honestly assess your abilities.

Is pre-registration required?
No; but we'd really appreciate it if you did. This will let us give an accurate roster to the SAG drivers so that they can identify or locate you if necessary during the day. To RSVP, use this link to send email.

Must I be registered for AIDS/LifeCycle?
No; this ride is open to everyone who can ride fast enough and who agrees to ride according to our rules. If you're not yet part of ALC, perhaps this ride will persuade you to register for next year's event!

What happens on ride morning?
Our meeting location is next to condominiums (and a police station), so please be quiet and respectful when arriving. You should plan to arrive at the meeting place in downtown Mountain View by 5:30 a.m. so that you have plenty of time to unload your bicycle and sign in. At sign-in, you will receive a frame number for you to affix to your bicycle frame. (This is separate from your ALC rider number.) The frame number will be important throughout the day for SAG drivers and other riders to identify cyclists who are part of this ride. Warm-up exercises and the route briefing begin at about 5:35 a.m. All riders must be already signed in, present, and attentive at 6:00 a.m. for a mandatory safety speech. Ride-out is at official sunrise, 6:09 a.m.

Can I use the toilet at the nearby police station?
Sorry, no; the police station isn't open for public access that early in the morning. Please take care of your restroom needs before arriving, and make sure your water bottles are full and ready to go.

What's the weather going to be like?
In short, could be just about anything. Past years of this event have seen temperatures above 100 degrees, but in 2012 the weather was near-perfect. In 2011, we had a chilly, windy day with midday temperatures only in the 50s with a brief but strong evening rain shower, and in 2010 we had a pleasant day in the 50s and 60s. The historical temperature data for Livermore on May 4 shows an average high of 73 degrees and a record high of 96.

Will we ride if it's raining?
Probably yes. We will cancel the ride only if there is steady, heavy rain on ride day or if there is a likelihood of thunderstorms or other severe weather.

What's the route?
You will receive a route sheet on the morning of the ride. We expect that the route will be mostly unchanged from last year, although there are a few changes in Pleasanton due to road work, and we'll be returning through McCarthy Ranch instead of by the Great Mall. This year's preliminary route is here. Last-minute changes are possible due to road work and other unforeseen events.

Is the route marked?
No; there are no pavement arrows, signs, or other markings. There are approximately 55 turns on the route, so you will need to refer to your route sheet frequently during the ride; consider a map holder or binder clips. On some parts of the route, you will see pavement arrows of various colors and styles; these are for other events to other destinations, and you should not follow them.

Will we encounter other events along the route?
The Mountain View A La Carte & Art Festival will be set up on Castro Street all day. This means that you will need to access the meeting location from Shoreline Blvd. and Villa Street. If you finish your ride before 6 p.m., police might direct you to dismount your bicycle and walk across Central Expressway through the fair area onto Evelyn Street. (On the plus side, great food will be available for purchase.) The Rowell Ranch annual rodeo will not be taking place along Dublin Canyon Road on ride day this year.

How much does the ride cost?
It's free! Our six rest stops are all at coffee shops, restaurants, and grocery stores, so you will need to buy or bring your own food and liquid. If you use any of the nonperishable supplies from a SAG vehicle, such as extra tubes, please consider making a small donation to the driver to help cover the replacement cost of these items. The SAG drivers also pay for gas, food, and water and are not reimbursed by ALC, so you are encouraged to help cover their costs if you are able to do so.

How fast do I need to ride?
This ride is designed for riders who can maintain an average speed of at least 12 mph on flat to rolling terrain. We love all cyclists, but the 12 mph pace is necessary to complete the route before sunset.

Can I really ride just 12 mph?
Yes! There will certainly be riders who are faster than 12 mph, but if you ride a steady 12 mph pace and do not take too long at rest stops, you can finish this ride in 13.5 hours or less. There will always be at least one ride leader at the back of the group, so you are guaranteed to never be the slowest rider. Here's some math: If you take 20 minutes at five of the six rest stops and give yourself an hour for lunch at one rest stop, and if you assume that you'll spend 20 minutes waiting at traffic signals and stop signs, then you need to average 11.9 mph to finish before sunset. Plan on going a little faster on flat terrain and a little slower uphill.

Can I bring bicycle lighting and complete the route after sunset?
Sorry, no. AIDS/LifeCycle rules require at least one ride leader to be behind the last rider at all times, so you can't finish on your own. This is for your own safety!

What happens if I'm not riding fast enough?
Each of the six rest stops will have an official closing time noted on the route sheet, timed to allow you to complete the ride within the 13.5 hours of daylight on ride day. This is to help you gauge your progress throughout the day and keep you on track to return to Mountain View before sunset at 8:01 p.m. If you are in a rest stop at its closing time, you will need to resume riding immediately, or you can choose to end your ride there. In some cases, a SAG vehicle might be able to jump you to the next rest stop and allow you to resume riding, but this service is available only if SAG vehicles are not otherwise occupied with more important tasks.

Do I have to ride the entire 200-kilometer route? Can I take a short cut?
There is no official "short route" for this year's ride. However, there are several places along the route where you can skip ahead from 5 to 37 miles, and several BART and VTA light rail stations are on or near the route. If you decide to shorten your ride or leave the route, you must let a ride leader know, either in person or by leaving voicemail or a text message on a ride leader's cellphone. Phone numbers will be on the route sheet that you receive on ride morning. Also, if you skip far ahead of other riders, you will be out of the coverage area of SAG vehicles, so you will not be able to receive support. The SAG vehicles need to be available on the official route for those riders who are attempting the full 125 miles, so if you leave the route, you'll be on your own.

What types of SAG service will be available?
We will have several volunteer SAG drivers stationed along the route and at rest stops. Most will have basic supplies like water, ice, light snacks, and some basic bicycle equipment such as a floor pump and extra tubes. In some cases, the SAG vehicle can transport you to a nearby location if you are unable to continue riding. Please note, however, that the SAG vehicles are not a personal taxi service, and if you decide to stop riding, it is your responsibility to get transportation for you and your bicycle back to Mountain View or some other location. Please respect and thank our volunteer SAG drivers who are helping make your ride a success.

Are hotels available near the meeting location?
If you are coming from far outside Mountain View, you might want to consider getting a hotel for the night before the ride, so that you can arrive on time. Several hotels are available in a variety of price ranges within five minutes of the meeting location; any of the online booking services can steer you in the proper direction.