Click Here to Sponsor Me

Click Here to Sponsor Me

Click Here to Sponsor Me

Total to Date:

901.5 miles

Although I got a lot of riding in today, the ride itself has to go down as the first (and hopefully only) complete disaster of my training for El Tour de Tucson.

We're supplied with cue sheets for every significant weekend ride; they include detailed directions on where we're going and how we're getting there, in case we get separated from the group. Thus far I largely haven't bothered, mostly because I'm very good at staying with the group. So I didn't bother today.

I got over to Hudson Terrace on the Ft. Lee side of the bridge early, and a solid group of a dozen riders gradually assembled. We had a mission moment (including Coach Matt giving me a shout-out for my fundraising, which has now topped $12,000!), then set off - and after five seconds, I had a flat back tire. I hadn't had a flat since my ride to Brooklyn two days before my knee injury in June, 2006, but I was prepared. Fellow rider Steven stayed back with me, Matt said something about meeting us at the park, and everyone else went ahead. Steven changed my tube while I examined the tire to make sure there weren't any little pieces of glass still in it or anything like that, because nothing's worse than replacing a flat with a spare tube and having that go flat, too.

We set off to catch up with the group after only six or seven minutes, probably a mile and a half behind them at that point. Neither of us had a cue sheet, but Steven claimed to know where they were going to be based on riding with them last week (when I was taking my break from training). I commented that I didn't want to push too hard to catch up with them, that I was content to do it with my best normal riding instead, and I also noted that I hadn't been on last week's ride.

And then with no warning, off he went, a far more experienced rider pulling away from me easily. I was confused, but figured I would eventually see him somewhere up ahead helping direct me, or I would run into the group somewhere I knew from our hill training. Matt had mentioned the park, after all - I thought he must mean the ranger station at Palisades State Park. But when I pulled off 9W and into the ranger station a while later, there was nobody there. I called Matt and left a message, but in the meantime waited, because I didn't want to assume anything and go in the wrong direction.

Matt called back, telling me to keep going up 9W and find them resting in Tallman Mountain State Park, near the ranger booth at the entrance. Easy enough, right? Well, what he didn't tell me (it's possible he didn't even know) is that there's more than one entrance to that park. I pushed hard to catch up with them, at one point even reaching my maximum speed so far this year, a harrowing 41.7 miles an hour (yes, it was on a downhill). When I passed a tiny parking lot that had a small sign for Tallman Mountain State Park, I screeched to a halt, went back, and rode in. No ranger booth at the entrance - I was confused, but kept going, as the pavement turned to dirt road, and went deep into the woods. Eventually I came to a three-way intersection, with not a soul in sight, and I called mentor Kathryn.

Kat said they were leaving the park, but would leave a cue sheet at the entrance booth of which Matt had spoken. I still had no idea what she was talking about, but figured one of the other paths had to lead there. Eventually I found it, and the woman there gave me one of two cue sheets that had been left; the other was for a couple that was trailing even further behind me, having arrived at Hudson Terrace late this morning.

As usual, the notations on the cue sheet left something to be desired; what was listed as a right turn actually required me to go straight as one street transformed into another, but I didn't discover that until I had already turned right and gone a fair way down that road. Yet another reason that staying with the group is still preferable to cue sheets, however helpful they're supposed to be. But I finally got onto the right route, through the quaint, beautiful town of Piermont, right on the Hudson River.

And then my back tire went flat again. Or rather, was going flat - so I pumped it back up, tried to ride some more, and found it consistently going flat within a few minutes each time. Of course, I'd only had the one spare tube in my bag, and that's the one that was going flat. Frustrated, I called Kat again, told her I was turning back to Piermont to find a bike shop, and would likely just head home, because there was no hope at this point of my catching up with the group. As I walked back, I passed the aforementioned late couple going the other way; they offered a tube and an air cartridge, but I declined, because if there really was something still in my tire, I didn't want to waste them unnecessarily. Matt called me after learning what was up from Kat, and directed me to Piermont Bike Connection, where they replaced my tube, checked my tire thoroughly, and sent me on my way...

...at which point the strap on my left pedal fell off completely, the screws nowhere to be found. Fine, no big deal, straps aren't as good as clips/cleats anyway, maybe this is the excuse I've been needing for twelve years to switch, finally, to cleats. Even if that means having only a month to get used to them before the biggest single-day ride of my life. I had a snack, pondered how the day had gone so far, and set off back toward Ft. Lee.

With help from my granny gear, I made it up the huge hill that is the entrance ramp to 9W, which I'm sure the planned route avoided neatly; then I was making it pretty well up the only remaining enormous hill on 9W itself, when my derailleur failed this time to switch me down to the granny gear. I tried several times, but unfortunately that involved kicking up a gear on the back sprocket to try to ease the chain's way, and by the time I gave up, I'd expended too much energy climbing this hill in too high a gear. I got off my bike and walked it up the second half of the hill, feeling rather dejected. But once I was at the top, I knew the rest of the ride was relatively clear sailing - just the sun and humidity in my way.

...until something snagged my foot, made it impossible to pedal, and dragged me to my right, nearly plowing me into a wall near a side street. My shoelace, which I always keep tucked inside the shoe so as to avoid such problems, had come out and gotten snagged in the pedal's crank, and was wrapping itself around the crank as I pedaled. I was able to get off the bike slowly without any problems, and with my foot still on the pedal, crouched down to untangle the mess.

I continued on. Despite the absurd set of circumstances thus far, I decided that, since I hadn't done the entire planned ride, I should ride all the way home (if not more) instead of taking the subway. Arriving back on the Manhattan side of the George Washington Bridge, I completely guessed at what route would get me to Riverside Drive, but didn't do too badly. I found energy and positive spirit from passing hundreds of women going the other way on a breast cancer walk, and even decided to take a couple of trips around Central Park when I got there, though God knows why. The rest of my ride was without incident, and afterwards I treated myself to some General Tso's chicken, air conditioning, and "The West Wing" on DVD.

I don't think I'm even going to look at my bike tomorrow. Monday I'll bring it into the shop to ask about getting new clipless pedals and cleated shoes, have them look at my derailleur, buy a couple of new spare tubes, and think about my next ride.

Click Here to Sponsor Me

Tonight's Central Park training ride has been cancelled due to pending thunderstorms. My next ride will likely be 9W from the Ft. Lee, NJ end of the George Washington Bridge to Nyack, NY, on Saturday morning.