This is the most white I have ever worn in my entire life, and probably will ever wear. I don’t intend on wearing white if I ever get married. ONLY FOR CYCLING WOULD I WEAR THIS MUCH WHITE.
By the way, these are the sun sleeves I am wearing. Determined to not go through another season getting a horrible cycling tan. Looks terrible when you wear tank tops!
This last weekend I biked the longest distance since having thyroid cancer. I did the Ride 2 Recovery metric century (62 miles) while on a low carb diet (this link goes to my low carb blog).
- THIRTY degree difference in temperature while biking!
- Climbed one of the Santa Monica Mountains at mile 40 (this ride that I did on 4/1)
- Hollah’ed at a bunch of hot cyclists
- An embarrassingly slow speed of 12.5 mph
While coming down the mountain on a narrow road, I had to hold up traffic to get down safely. I couldn’t help but notice some of the beautiful scenery and went back later to get some pics.
Sadly the ride was very sparse this year; last year there were tons of people. This is a super cool ride – usually there are vets with modified bikes and/or prosthetics (and they are, of course, effing amazing cyclists and usually super hotties, too). AND it’s in conjunction with the Sheriff’s station, so the cops hold up traffic for the cyclists (YEAH) and the lights as well. And they are hot as well.
I dragged my buddy Benzo along for the ride; he just ran the Los Angeles Marathon so needless to say, he is in amazing shape. And yes, I was passed by EVERYONE except someone that was probably around 2.5 times my age.
We started on the Pacific coast highway, worked our way up to Mulholland, and turned into the canyon. It was GORGEOUS. And then right after you start climbing, someone scrawled ‘FUCK CYCLISTS’ on the pavement. LOL
My favorite Benzo quotes from the day:
- “I’m pretty sure he is going to die on this hill” (After we passed the ONLY person I was capable of passing on the hill, a guy that was at least 80 years old)
- “When are we going to stop climbing and start going downhill?”
- “Are we almost there yet?” (While going downhill on Decker cyn for 5 miles)
- “That was scary!” (Finally get to the bottom of Decker canyon)
- “That is why the people (going uphill) looked so trashed!” (After telling him that parts of Decker cyn was over 15% grade)
Here is a link to the ride details/GPS information. Not sure why the chart shows that weird straight line to where I drove my car, but that isn’t included in any of the details so ignore it.
Here are some pics from the ride!
I read Dear Abby almost every day. Went to the page to catch up and saw the below new articles:
My first thought was ‘OH! Bike related article! Cool!’ and RIGHT before I clicked it I saw the next headline.
Woman Refuses To Give Lover The Kind Of Pleasure He Wants
How do you NOT click that first? I mean, come on!
I think I clicked on the bike one first. Turned out it was a follow up to a parent crying about how their kid won’t bike without a helmet. Yeesh.
I see a lot of really passive parenting these days, where kids are the ones dictating the rules. It KILLS me. WHY IS A CHILD TELLING YOU, THE PARENT, WHAT TO DO??
THEY ARE THE CHILD. TAKE CONTROL.
Take away the bike if they won’t wear a helmet. Get creative WITH the helmet. /sigh
ALSO as a parent, YOU wear a helmet TOO when biking. I see parents out biking with their kids but not wearing a helmet, while their kids do. It’s called being a ‘role model’.
Here is the link to the other article. She never mentions what the sex act is. It’s either oral or anal, if you ask me. Either way, she probably doesn’t need to wear a helmet.
The other day I biked an (in)famous ride called “The Rock Store ride” by bicyclists and “The Snake” by motorcyclists. It’s a ridiculous road that used to be an old horse-carriage road a century ago, that is now popular with cyclists and motorists for it’s twisty, turny climb.
Needless to say, I was toiling my way up the mountainside at a healthy 5 MPH and feelin’ pretty confident. I could hear any motorcycles/cars come up behind me and felt pretty safe. When the look out point near the top was in sight, all of a sudden HUMANS were UPON me. I thought I was alone! I almost lost control of my bike while a slender female cyclist and her extremely trim male companion ZOOM right by me (HI YOU COULD HAVE SAID ON YOUR LEFT OR LET ME KNOW YOU WERE THERE). My ego quickly deflates. It’s one thing to be passed by skinny dudes on their expensive bikes, but a chick as well? So now I felt like a massive, slow, fat goober.
I tried to make myself feel better, saying things like ‘I bet they still have their thyroids!’ and ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself, you are just getting back out there’. But the ego was punctured like a tire gnawed on by a cat.
Got to the look out point and there were two kids (I’m pretty certain they were under 18) “sneakily” puffing on a cigarette. It was pretty funny to watch. They were trying to be all covert.
At this point, lots of cyclists are coming up to the top of the mountain so I jump on my bike and get passed by all of them. I notice one of them has his lower right leg amputated, and then notice his Ride 2 Recovery jersey. He was the ONLY one that said hi. I called out and asked if he would be at the Ride 2 Recovery ride in Agoura and he said he would, so I hope to find him and say hi to him more in person in a few weeks.
I now went down to a road called Kanan, where everyone does about 60 MPH. Thanks to construction, I had to take up the ENTIRE LANE and hold up traffic, while doing 40 MPH NOT CLIPPED IN (long story). That was scary.
FINALLY nearing the end of the route and doing one last climb, a beautiful slender blond whizzes by me on her Specialized S-Works. FLIES right by me. I recognize her from another ego-deflation situation at the bike store. Whatever. My BMC trumps your S-works, even if you ARE half the size of me and a better cyclist. /mumbles to self.
Please reassure me and let me know if you have ever had moments like this. Or that at the very least, you do not think bad thoughts about slow cyclists you pass.
Even with a crappy headcold, I went on a short ride out on Mulholland in Calabasas/Agoura Hills this last weekend (Lat/Long 34.1041, -118.7260).
So out on Mulholland on a lovely Saturday afternoon, I have to share the road with not only motorists and motorcyclists vrooming their way through the canyons, but entrepreneurial photographers that take everybody’s pictures in hopes that someone will go to their website to purchase them. Oddly, you have to email the guy to get a quote.
So I’m going UP some switchbacks. Granted, they are only maybe 5 – 7 % grade but I’m going SLOW. So it’s a little embarrassing to be trudging up the hillside (after having just unzipped my jersey to reveal my sportsbra only a few minutes earlier, NOT KNOWING there were a slew of dudes who would be taking my pic) and they just kept taking pics/staring. We bantered a bit and I finally got off my ass and took off.
Well, I’m pleased because not only do I look slender, but because just a few minutes prior I was considering unzipping my sports bra for extra air flow. Sure glad I DID NOT DO THAT.
So I quickly put the bike on the bike rack, knocking some cycling clothes onto the floor in the process.
What does rat-face then proceed to do? Roll around and snuggle my nasty bike clothes in all their glory.
Yes yes, I know ‘wherefore’ means ‘why’, but I’m going to use it BOTH WAYS. Or as they say on the cooking shows, “wherefore, two ways’.
I went to go ride today and I had a flat tire. I’ve been having some fails in the bike maintenance department, so this just caused me to get really bummed.
I actually (slightly) resemble Winona Ryder and in my super spooky college days, I looked a bit like Lydia from Beetlejuice (who I was obsessed with as a child). Let’s just say that maintaining your pale, spooky pallor while doing long distance riding is a challenge.*
ANYWAYS BACK ON TOPIC.
I went to go retrieve my tire levers and after digging through the bike bag, only found ONE stupid lever. Really? Where did your mate go? You were clipped together and now you are single. What did you do, to make her run away??
After liberating the tube and inspecting it, no hole could be found. I therefore decided to be clever and see if I could find it after submerging it under water.
Turns out I have no sink stopper. After shoveling a washcloth in there, I submerged the tube. Nothing happened. I squeezed, I tried everything I could think of. I did not try dish soap, as the ehow article (which I looked at AFTER), suggests.
So NOW I decided this tube was no longer trustworthy, since it wasn’t going to give up it’s secrets. Time to find another tube! Off to …. the Box of misfit bike stuff!
So all my bike related stuff has been gently, lovingly, carefully placed into a box. And by all those words, I mean haphazardly chucked in. So after rummaging around a bit, I found a damn spare tube.
And managed to effectively (time will tell) re instate the tire. We’ll see. I expect it to be flat in the morning. And let me tell you, those last 5 inches of re seeding the tire sucks. I normally use my feminine wiles to lure a man over here to do that for me but I was hellbent on getting this done myself.
I’m going to repost this article on the Seven Problems You Can’t Hear or Feel for bikes as a PSA.
* I was at the hairdresser the other day and we decided on lightening my hair color from goth-girl black to something more ‘warm’ for my face (as you age, darker hair color on pale white-person skin will make you look older). Hairdresser goes “the lighter color will really bring out your cute freckles!”
I was like ‘THOSE ARE NOT FRECKLES, THOSE ARE AGE SPOTS (aka sun damage)’.
She responds with “Well, we’ll just call them freckles”
asd;lfkajsd;lfkj MOAR SUNBLOCK PLEEZE
After two weeks of NO physical exertion, including being under the weather with continued uterus issues, I decided enough blobbing about – get on the damn bike.
I chose a 20 mile ride through a local canyon that wouldn’t take too long in the waning light of day.
While grabbing some bike shorts, I tried to find ones with thicker padding but couldn’t. I finally resigned myself to the ones at hand, thinking ‘it will be a quick ride, you won’t even notice.’.
20 minutes of climbing (granted it was only really a 3-6% grade) with already sensitive girl bits from uterus issue = owwwwwwwwwie.
La Tuna canyon is great because it has no lights or stop signs. La Tuna canyon is dangerous because it has no lights or stop signs. Cars easily go minimum 50 MPH and whiz right on by.
I got to a blind turn and the road narrowed down to a lane each way, with NO ROOM on the side for even a pedestrian. I started to get a lil nervous and thought “Gee, this sure is a dangerous spot”. I look up and what do I see in that exact turn but a ghost bike.
I said a silent hello to the ghost bike and the rider and spent the next 20 minutes paying meticulous attention to the road so I wouldn’t end up a ghost bike.
Finally made it to the top of the hill, no nice vista in sight. Just tons of garbage on the side of the road the whole way up. Lame.
Cruised down and started singing “she’ll be comin’ ’round the mountain when she comes” at the top of my lungs. This led to dirty thoughts (“when she comes” hehehehehehe) which then brought my attention back to my aching (in a bad way) girl bits.
Quick ride home (all downhill) and only yelled at one stupid pedestrian.
If I got to choose my death, I hope I die (quickly and painlessly) on my bike. And I hope someone puts a ghost bike up in my honor, to remind drivers and cyclists alike to be more careful on the road.
Do they do ghost bikes where you live?