Not overdoing it for a change

I had my forced unpaid day off today. I keep saying I should use a day off to just relax, but I always end up planning some big event. This time, the big event that I tried to plan fell through. So I slept in till 10, did some reading and went for a long bike ride.

It's been unseasonably warm lately. I actually wore shorts and a t-shirt on my ride. I took a loop that runs through some ranching land nearby our town. The hills have turned green, which they do for about three weeks every winter, and the cows were out sunbathing. It was really nice to get out and clear my head.

Lesson learned: A real day off is nice.

Biking in high heels

I love the small traffic lights set at eye level and dedicated solely to bicyclists. I wonder sometimes if they are really necessary, since bikers can just follow either the pedestrian or automobile lights. Still, it is a statement that bikes have a place on the road.

There are also bike paths painted into the sidewalks or alongside the roads in many places.

I've written about this before, but think it's great to see business women in skirts, old men who can barely walk and teenagers with ipods all riding together on the streets. At home I might be a little hesitant to ride in high heels, but here I do it all the time. In fact, it is more comfortable than walking in them.

Sometimes it is mayhem, because bikers, including me, seem to feel exempt from the rules that drivers or pedestrians here strictly follow. I often play chicken with others in the paths as I or they ride on the wrong side of the street.

Ike (my bicycle) seems to be complaining louder lately, and sometimes I worry he will fall apart. I inwardly plead for him to last just one more month. I'm not sure what I would do without him.

Lesson learned: Biking works well for narcisists.

Dodging rocks

The warm weather has allowed me to sneak in a few bike rides that I haven't gotten a chance to do this season so far. There is a ride here up to the top of a peak about 30 miles from where I live. It's a cool 13 miles uphill to the top, then another six or seven downhill. The downhill isn't just a cruise through rolling hills either. It basically consists of dropping down steps, dodging rocks and hovering behind the seat of your bike trying not to go over the handlebars over granite rollers.

I did it once last year, but I've never gone back until today. I went with Steve, my regular riding buddy; Paul, Jenn S.'s husband; and Paul's brother Justin.

It was nearly balmy when we started, so I had to peel off the four layers I had on within the first two miles on the way up. They all went back on in the last two toward the top.

Few groups ever do this ride without someone crashing at least once on the way down. I went down first, then Paul crashed, so I didn't have to be the only one. I made it through with just a bruise on my thigh. Not bad.

Lessons learned: I need practice on the technical stuff.

Season finales

I spent this weekend trying to squeeze the last good weather from the season by taking a couple bike rides. It is definitely getting chillier. And by that, I mean there were moments I worried hypothermia was only a few snowflakes away.

Saturday morning I woke up what I would consider early for a Saturday morning. My neighbor, Lisa, and I drove to a nearby area and road up a steep paved road known for its hair-pin curves. Its one of those rides that you love only afterward. I'm glad I did it, though, and I'm up for trying it again. It was warm on the way up, but bone chilling on the way back down with the wind blowing by.

Sunday, I went up the hill with my new friend, Dan. He rides in Davis, where he lives part time, so of course, I had to prove that there is some good riding here. It rained the night before and cleared up just in time. The slick trail just added one more element of challenge. It was beautiful as usual. I had uncontrollable shivers by the time we were done, but they were so worth it.

Lesson learned: I need to switch to a sport where I can wear a sleeping bag for clothing. (So hopefully it snows soon.)

Plans foiled

Yesterday, I was supposed to be on my bike, in a line of about six others, weaving on a single track trail from the top of a peak down to where I live.

It was a 50-mile trek that I and others spent about three weeks planning. We had drivers to take us up there. My friend Jenn had offered to be one, and then make us dinner when we got back. She had a babysitter for her new baby in the morning while she drove. Everyone knew where they were meeting and what they needed.

I was like a kid on Christmas Eve.

The only thing we didn't have nailed down was the weather. And of course, that was the one big thing that could thwart our plans. When I woke up at 6:30 a.m. on Saturday, my frined and coworker, Amy, called to to tell me she had heard it was pouring rain and lightening in the high country. Ironically, it hasn't rained in the past five months, and both Friday and Sunday were precipitation free.

So we bagged the whole thing, and Steve and I went to breakfast to mourn.

We did take a shorter ride today to try and make up for it. It was fun, and the ditch is more beautiful than ever, but I can't help but still be a little sad our plans didn't work out.

Lesson learned: The weather is such a buzz kill sometimes.

Three for the price of one

I have wanted to do a triathlon for a long time. I just thought when I actually did it, I would train for it, practice the transitions and anticipate it for months.

Well I finally did one, but I decided to do it the day beforehand. Since it was sprint distance, I figured I could rely on my regular swimming and biking work outs to get through it.

It all started when I volunteered to be part of a relay team with Paul, a friend from church. His team's biker had dropped out, so I stepped in.

Then Paul's pregnant wife, Jenn, who is also a good friend, had her baby early. It was probably for the best, considering last time I talked to Paul he said, "Yeah, I just got up to running two miles without stopping." That was right before he told me the other guy can only swim three laps without stopping.

After Paul cancelled, my biking buddy Steve called and told me he was considering doing it. And of course he talked me into it too.

So it wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be, considering the last minuete nature of the decision. I did learn a few things for next time (and I think there will be a next time):

1. During the swim, don't panic, even when there are hundreds of legs and arms swinging in the water around you. Just roll with it. So what if you get kicked in the face. Or swallow a gallon of water. Or lose your goggles. (All things that happened to me).

2. Get a road bike. I felt pretty good on the bike, but it didn't really matter how good I felt, because I had a handicap since I was riding on a mountain bike. I could pass people on the up and down hills, but I tended to get passed on the flats and transitions.

3. Hydrate. Luckily I only had a quarter mile left when I started feeling cold chills.

Despite all that, I placed first in my age group. I got the blue medal and everything. I will be honest though — there was a friend of mine in my age group who left me in the dust (along with most men). It's just that because she got best female overall, she didn't get to get first place in her age group too. Thanks Ryan, for kicking butt.

Right now, I would kill for something chocolate.

Lesson learned: See above.

Where's Bobo?

Steve, his friend, Ben and I did our signature "ditch" ride this weekend. I've mentioned it before. It's about 42 miles, much of which winds right beside a culvert of water. Most of it is pretty tame. In fact, one of the more harrowing parts is ducking the dogs that rush us as we pass by. I think the anticipation of seeing a couple of them is actually worse the the real encounter.

My favorite is a large Rotweiler with a sharp bark, who, I kid you not, just happens to be named Bobo. To tell you the truth, I have never actually seen Bobo. Just heard him as I pedal by, keeping my eyes down and my pedals circling. This season, so far, he hasn't materialized. This time we called him, hoping he would come out and make an appearance. No such luck.

Lesson learned: I think Bobo moved.

Reviving rides

I took a couple rides this weekend that made me remember why I love the sport of mountain biking.

Lately I've just had a hard time biking, partly because I am tired from working so much, partly because it's the beginning of the season, and partly because maybe I'm not as hard core as I wish I were.

But Sunday evening Steve and I went out and did a loop that we haunted often last year. Since it was later in the day, it was the perfect temperature, cool, but not cold. We finished just before sunset, which we had a nice view of as we went down the grade.

Monday, I took a ride by myself on a narrow paved road that swings around from one town to another in my area. Although it hasn't got the remote character of a single track, it's beautiful. The road winds up and over golden hillsides. Every once and awhile, you pass a few cows grazing on the little green left since its gotten hot, or an old farm house that looks like its about to collapse. There's not much traffic, so most the noise comes from the crickets chirping in the trees.

The whole loop, which only took a little longer than a hour and a half, left me wanting more.

Lesson learned: I love my bike.

Riding high

I took the longest 12-mile ride of my life the other day.

The ride starts as a forest service road that peak's the ski resort that I live near. We had only gone up about two and a half miles when we hit snow. That meant dragging our bikes through it, getting back on, riding ten feet, then dragging the bikes again. At one point, I took a really stupid fall, which was just the beginning of my lackluster performance on this entire trip.

We decided to skip the rest of the road and just push our bikes up one of the ski runs to the top.

But just because we got there, didn't mean things got any easier. To say there was a trail that launched off the other side required a little bit of imagination. A lot of it was ducking under low tree limbs and stopping to lift our bikes over fallen logs or through steep sections riddled with rocks.

Three hours in, my arms were so tired it was all I could do to hold on to the handle bars.

We had just crested a ridge and were on the downhill to the truck when I think my tire caught a branch on a log. I'm not sure. I don't really remember.

Steve said I didn't make a sound. All he heard was a crash and he turned around to see me lying on my back, looking up at the sky.

In its entirety, it took us four and a half hours. We could have walked 12 miles faster than that.

Lesson learned: The milage says nothing of the ride.

Gone riding

So biking season is underway, and already my biking buddy, Steve and I have taken a few good rides.

It is the perfect time of year. The trails are all still packed down after winter's rain and snowfall. They are all lined with bright wildflowers. And temperatures still are bearable.

It stays light past 8 p.m. too, so our headlamps haven't been the necessity they were at the end of last season.

One recent weekend, Steve, a friend of his and I rode the "ditch," which is basically a culvert that carries our drinking water. It's about 32 miles of winding trail along the water. There are a few stretches that you have to walk on flumes to get across little canyons. (See photo).

Even a couple rides in, I'm still more timid than I was at the end of the season last year.

Lesson learned: Girl, we've got work to do.