First Ride of 2022

 With the warmish weather upon us, it was time to dust off the mt. bike and hit the trails for an early season introduction ride. Something easy to dust off the cobwebs-get my sea legs back.

I wasn't worried about stamina or distance; I've been crushing it on the trainer all winter. I was concerned about not doing anything too technical; trainers cannot simulate rocks or trees...

The ride to the trails is a short, flat stretch of road from my house. As I headed down the road I noticed a slight breeze and then realized my legs felt like they were working way harder than they should on flat terrain... Apparently trainers do not account for wind or the actual weight of a bike or the rolling resistance of chunky 29" trail tires.

Anyway I was still warming up. Once I got into the groove things would feel good.

When I made the turn onto the trail, I nearly locked up the brakes and sent myself tumbling into a tree. The trail is a narrow gently sloping turn that leads into the woods that I have ridden hundreds of times, but initial reaction was panic about smashing into one of the trees. It took a good bit of mental effort to will my hands to stay off the breaks and my feet to keep pedaling.

This was the ride for at least the next mile or so. See feature that you've ridden hundreds of times, panic, force panic down so reflexes can do their job, and repeat. Most of the time the force panic down part was successful and I got through. A few times I did end up walking a feature and then berating myself for being a scaredy cat and vowing that I'd crush it the next time while knowing that there was always a chance that the panic would win again.

Fortunately, the panic becomes background noise after awhile. The cadence of the peddles, the quiet of the woods, the successfully getting over features makes the panic smaller and smaller. It is like putting on noise cancelling headphones, I can still hear the panic but it is so muffled it doesn't intrude.

Once the panic faded and the muscles warmed up it was a great ride. I stuck to mainly flat, single track trails. There were a few technical sections with a lot of roots, sharp turns, rocks, and logs covering the trail. Things came back pretty quickly when it came to shifting and body position to keep moving forward and upright.

On the last section of trails I felt the backend get that swishy feeling that means you need to put air in the tire. Sure enough, it was flat.

My first thought was just to pump enough air into the tire to get home - I was technically at lunch - as quick as possible. I whipped out my handy micro pump and went to town. Except I couldn't get any air into the stupid tire. I was convinced it was either me being a rock head or the pump because I couldn't seem to get a good seal on the valve. It was either too loose the air would seep out or it was jammed and the air wouldn't go in. After about ten minutes, I was ready to give up and accept the fact that I was going to have to carry the stupid bike a mile plus back through the woods...

Then my brain stopped being trapped in "you're an idiot and life sucks" mode and I wondered if I had a spare tube. Maybe the problem was that I had popped the tire or ruined the valve on the one on the bike. I did have a spare tube because I usually don't suck too much.

Now all I had to do was remember how to get the back tire off the bike without destroying the derailer. Is it put the chain on the biggest ring or the smallest ring? 50-50 chance so I pick the big ring - WRONG. I tried, then cussed myself out for being stupid, but was not stupid enough to really force anything. Once I got the tire reseated, I shifted the chain into the smallest ring and things went much better.

Five minutes later I was back on the trail and, despite the little hick up, still feeling like I'm in the groove.

There was one nasty clump of rocks I walked, but it was a rational decision. It was just after I got back on the bike and didn't really have enough speed to glide over or enough time to shift into a gear where I could plough through.

It wasn't until after I decided that my lunch cover was already blown and that I could extend my ride a bit that I realized the flat had turned off the noise canceling headphones that kept the panic quiet.

There is a nice rock wall that crosses the trail and is usually very fun to barrel over. It is just after some really tight windy single track but with plenty of room between the last turn and the wall to get up a good head of steam. It is also just enough room for the panic to grow louder. I ignored it until I was just at the wall and then my hands went for the brakes... I'm not sure what happened, but my body took over in a nick of time. My hands opened up and my legs drove the pedals in a huge surge of power.

Once I was in the clearing after the wall I just stopped and gasped air. I was happy to not be a heap on the ground, but pissed at myself for nearly putting me in a heap on the ground. It took a few minutes to catch my breath and stop yelling at myself. I had made it over and was OK. Now I just needed to finish off the next two miles of the ride without that happening again....

I was able to find my groove again and quiet the panic. The rest of the ride was a nice way to finish off the day.

I am hopeful that now that I've gotten the first ride out of the way, it will be easier and easier to quiet the panic and get a break from it.

Tacx Flow Smart Trainer

My old indoor trainer, a Cycleworks Magneto, was getting long in the tooth and the local bike shop was having a good sale on new trainers. I also was getting a little bored with the linear resistance thing, so was jonesing for a “smart” trainer.

What I wasn’t looking to do was drop $1000 on a bike trainer that I would only use for a couple of months a year or one that required a ton of work to set up. That ruled out most of the smart trainers. They all seem to be wheel off set ups that require buying a trainer and a rear cassette. That does allow for more accurate power adjustment, simulating road feel, and quieter use. It also looked like it allows for greater “true” power ranges.

I was excited to see that the bike shop offered one wheel on smart trainer option and that it was not crazy expensive. The Tacx Flow was only $350 and allows me to pop the bike into it with a simple click. One the bike is on the trainer, you should do a quick calibration to make sure the resistance and power readings are accurate.

Time to get bike on trainer and calibrated is under five minutes. It makes it is easy for those days when I want to ride but the rain gets in the way.

The Flow easily connects to several apps like Tacx’s own app and Strava. Getting the Tacx app connected to the trainer was a snap. It comes with a free month trail period, so it was a good way to get started. The app has a wide variety of rides. Some have nice videos and others are just GPS tracks, but they cover the gamut of rides. There are nice easy rides through the countryside or along the shore and there are long brutal climbs. The did experience a few hiccups where the videos would buffer, but the bike is far away from the hotspot and I have a tween who lives on TikTok. The other odd thing about the app was that if it connected to my bike’s cadence sensor, it would not record cadence data. I’m not sure how the trainer figures out cadence better than a sensor stuck on my pedal. I decided to pony up for the $100 yearly subscription without trying any other apps. I don’t know any Strava heads and liked the movies.

The trainer can also be driven by my fenix watch which can be loaded up with GPS courses from Garmin Connect. In some ways this a better way to use the trainer as the data integrates better with my other Garmin data and I can train on rides that I actually take instead of dreaming of far off lands.

In either case, the trainer gives me a better workout than the linear resistance of a non-smart trainer. It is more fun to have to deal with simulated climbs or to run a workout where the resistance changes to simulate sprints.

I also like the fact that I get power readings from the trainer. Power is not a metric I would pay $1000 dollars to add to my bike, but for $350 it is a nice to have. I might miss it once I am back on the roads and trails.

Is the Flow a great smart trainer? No. It is not a great trainer. It doesn’t simulate road feel and can really only simulate up to a 5 percent grade with any accuracy. It also requires regular calibration to make sure the bike’s tire and the trainer are properly connected.

It is however a great trainer for my needs. It didn’t break the bank. It is easy to set up and use all year long. When properly calibrated it can programmatically fake more than a 5 percent grade and really most of the places I ride don’t have very steep hills.

For a recreational rider in his 50’s with moderate needs. It is more than enough.

I would rather spend the extra money on upgrading my mountain bike to full suspension or enjoying fancy ciders after a long ride.

2021

2021 was supposed to be the year we escaped COVID and returned to some semblance of 2019.

January and February were cold and the winter surge was ravaging the world, but vaccines were on the way. The media was saying that by summer COVID would be a bad memory and in my more optimistic moments I could almost believe the hype. Mostly though, we were all still just stuck at home trying to make it through the day without losing our minds after hours of Google school, Zoom meetings, and dog walking.

March and April was waiting to qualify for vaccines based seemingly random eligibility requirements. Then there was the mad dash to find shots. Refreshing web pages, sitting on hold, watching random Facebook groups for hours a day was a normal addition to the already hectic juggling of work and homeschool monitoring. There was also guilt because I randomly qualified for vaccination before some people who really needed shots; it may have been the only time that having smoked 20 years ago and kidney stones got me more than grief.

April also brought the mixed blessing of in person school. Going back into school was definitely better from a learning and mental health perspective. It was also better from an adult getting work done perspective. However, it added to the underlying stress of wondering when COVID would come knocking on your door. There was also all the new adjustments to schedules, like making time to actually get dressed for and walk up to the school. Added to that was the social stressors of trying to reestablish friendships that had lay dormant for a year or had blossomed online but couldn't survive the pressure of meatspace reality. Learning how to sit still, facing forward, wearing a mask, and barely being able to talk with friends was also new and unpleasant.

Late Spring and Summer were pleasant. There was still a lot of confusion about what was OK and not OK to do; who was comfortable with what; where did deadly COVID risk lurk instead of just acceptable COVID risk? The weather, I think, was the key thing. COVID risk plummeted outside and the weather was warm and sunny most of the time.

We ate at restaurants - with outdoor seating; I kayaked; we vacationed; K did summer camps; we had company - outside; I went on group mt. biking rides. It was almost like a normal summer.

The difference was the mask always hanging off my wrist for venturing inside. The threat of COVID was still omni-present. Entry to summer camp required a PCR test; entry to our campground required proof of vaccination; the news still reported daily case counts and the ongoing struggles of getting people vaccinated and how much to loosen up on the safety protocols. Go out and live like its 2019, but don't forget that there is still a deadly virus out there stalking all the indoor spots.

Lingering over the summer was the knowledge that school would be open season for a barely contained virus being allowed to rip through a caged and unvaccinated population. Sure kids are less likely to get really sick and the benefits of in person schooling out weigh the risks and kids in school frees up parents to be less stressed out slaves to their jobs....

Fortunately, our school year started off uneventfully and with only a "minor trickle" of cases each week. Sure kids and teachers would regularly disappear from school for 10 days now and then. The school nurse was insanely strict about staying home if you had a cough. Facebook was flooded with stories about how unfair it was to keep asymptomatic kids home and how unsafe it was not to have regular testing in place and to not be quarantining close contacts. All in all, it wasn't too bad.

Delta swept in, but was balanced out by vaccines for kids and boosters for adults.

The good vibes from the summer were still lingering.

Malaise was also part of the equation. How long can you live under constant existential threat before becoming numb to it? Also, I had stopped reading the news because it was just too depressing.

Were we going to the movies or eating inside restaurants? Were we doing sleep overs and having a ton of friends in the house? No.

Were we hanging out inside with people we knew well? Yes. We had family over for Thanksgiving.

Work started and stopped and started and stopped with calls to reopen the office. Things seemed to settle into a "we'd love to see you in the office, but understand if you don't feel comfortable" sort of vibe. I cannot say it was a great vibe because it was always pretty clear that the bosses wanted people in the office, but knew pushing to hard would cost them employees they were not willing to lose - I am not one of the employees and operated under the knowledge that if push came to push I'd be back in the open hell pit that is the office along with hundreds of other bitter unhappy drones.

Then came the winter of Omicron and the Big Lie.

Getting excited for Christmas was tough. The strain of fall started showing. Figuring out what to shop for and when to shop for it and how to hide deliveries. There was also some pressure to make Christmas great to make up for all the strain of COVID times.

Then the logistics of getting together with family under the threat of Omicron reared its head. Do we all need PCR tests before getting together? Can we just do gifts and keep our masks on? If we all rapid test can we do dinner? What if someone isn't boosted?

At least Omicron, for as contagious as it is, is not nearly as terrible as it name sounds. Maybe the people calling Omicron COVIDs last gasp before becoming a seasonal flu are right.....

Maybe we will get a moderate, non-megalomaniac septuagenarian President as the face of our fully dysfunctional government.

Or maybe 2022 will be just as confused and angst filled as 2021 with a barely understood virus that is super contagious mutating its way around our vaccines waiting to send us hiding back in our bubbles to listen to rantings of a power mad lunatic.

Hunting for the Hound of Wetherill

The best way to integrate the skills picked up at the Gales is to turn around a kayak the next weekend!! I'm not sure what H was thinking giving me a paddle pass two weeks in a row.

It was a great day to paddle: sunny with a slight breeze and some swell coming up the bay.

We worked our way south towards Beavertail hugging the coast and playing in anything that looked remotely interesting. I was feeling pretty bold, so I tried anything that looked passable. There were plenty of getting through ugly, but the conditions were gentle enough so that there was no carnage.

The rocks just to the north of Mackerel Cove had a nice break over them, so we headed out there to do some surfing. It was a nice wave and just about everyone caught a good ride. I, however, just couldn't get it straight. The first couple of times I was just out of perpendicular to the wave and my stern got pushed. After Tim G. explained to me that the trick was to see what the wave was breaking over and then point the bow towards it, I tried one last time....

The wave broke and crashed right over a giant pointy rock. I just couldn't make myself do it. At the last minute, I slid my butt just a bit and let the stern get turned by the wave and surfed away from the rock. Bold only goes so far some days...

We lunched at Hull Cove and debated heading further south towards Beaver Tail. There was also some politics being batted about, but politics and paddling definitely do not mix.

After lunch the swell and the wind disappeared. There was still enough going on to find some play spots, but noting quite as fun as in the morning. We managed to find some trouble though. I may have donated more gel coat to the water gods on the way home than on the way out.

When we got back to Wetherill nobody was ready to get off the water, so we paddled around the bend to see if there was any action by the big house. It was a nice extension to the paddle, but conditions remained calm.

After a quick photo shoot, we headed back to the put in and called it a day.

A few rolls proved what I was suspecting at the Gales; my neck gasket needs to be replaced and the dry suite will need to spend a few weeks in the shop.

The day was a great way to end a paddling season while I wait for my dry suite to be ready for some winter paddles.

Autum Gales

 I love Greg Paquin's annual Autumn Gales event despite the fact that I usually only attend one of the three days. The coaching is always excellent and the conditions are always a little challenging.

Unfortunately COVID kept the UK coaches that usually attend in the UK, but Greg has plenty of local, or at least US-based, coaching talent available and as expected my one day was full of adventure and learning. I heard the Saturday and Sunday sessions were even more fun. One of these years, I will apply for a multiway hall pass from the family....

After the morning briefing, my choice of groups was either to off with Greg and do rough water rescue practice or to go off with some new coaches and work on reading conditions and other open water comfort skills. Greg suggested that working with new coaches was always a good idea, so I went off with them.

The day looked iffy for any really big conditions in the areas we were headed. There was plenty of wind and plenty of current around; it just all happened to be going the same way. That did make it a perfect day for practicing reading conditions. We talked about current direction and wind direction and how they interact with each other to create waves. We talked about how they interact with our kayaks and which would most likely impact our ability to navigate.

There was a wave break off the nearby point that was caused by some submerged rocks. We paddled over to check out the action. The waves were close to shore and mostly pushing into a rocky area. There was one wave that was rideable...if you could catch it.

The wave was extremely localized and had to caught at just the right spot to get a good, safe ride. The problem was that the gap between waves was not insignificant and there were a lot of factors pushing a kayak out of position. A few people managed to catch nice rides, but I was not one of them. I would set up in what I thought was a good position, but by the time the wave came I was out of the slot. The wind and current was pushing off shore making it hard to hold in the sweet spot.

After a frustrating stay at the wave, we grabbed some lunch at a protected bit of sand. The spot was nice because it offered a bit of a wind break to keep us warm. It was also positioned nicely so that the landing was nice and smooth. The wave action was minimal.

During lunch we talked a little about wave periods because the plan for after lunch was to head around the point and try to practice landing in dumping surf. Figuring out wave periods is a skill that escapes me - it could be that I just suck at counting. I didn't feel too bad because there seemed to be a lot of variability in the periods being offered up... But the general consensus was that the period was long enough to make a surf landing in dumping waves within safe margins.

After lunch the wind and tides had changed so that a nice surf break set up running mostly parallel to the beach. The waves were not huge, but they were well formed and predictable; perfect for some fun. Because they were running along the shore and not into the shore, you could catch some long runs. It was a great way to kill 30 minutes before heading around the point to practice smashing into the sand...

On the northern side of Napatree, the waves were going into shore and dumpy. We had a brief chat about how to land in dumpy surf; use the back of a wave, get out quickly, don't get stuck between your kayak and the beach.

The landing part was easy. The waves were well spaced out and not too big. I caught I nice ride most of the way in, backed off just in time, and let the back of the following wave drop me gently on the sand.

The launching part was less easy. I've never really been great at surf launching... My turtle motion is not fast enough, I tend to start too far up the beach, or too close to the surf. I almost always get turned around at least once and today was no different. I did get off the beach in one piece, and that is what counts....

After surf landings we headed over to a nun to see what the current and wind were doing. Looking at the nun made things look surprisingly dynamic. You could definitely see the current moving against the sides and see how things were pushing us around.

The coaches had us do an exercise where we paddled up to the nun and then turn around it. It was a little unclear which way were supposed to circle the nun, so I did it a couple of ways in each direction. It was also a little unclear what the point of the exercise was - not that I didn't enjoy playing dodge the nun in traffic. The Aries is made for just that sort of thing. It spins around big metal obstacles with glee; a little sweep stroke here, a bow rudder there, and a butt scootch will get the Aries to do a 360 just about every time.

The point of the exercise was to see how a kayak's handling is effected by wind and current and which one was the biggest factor in this situation. Because I can be clueless and paddle a magic spinning kayak, I didn't notice any big effect from either the wind or the current. Fortunately others did and the coaches got to explain what was going on and strategies for handling it. The biggest factor was the wind and typically what happens when paddling and turning into the wind is that your bow gets pinned in the water and the stern gets pushed around. The trick is to work the back of the kayak to unstick it and get it to move around. I took the tip and put it in my back pocket for when I am trying to go straight.....

Then we paddled back over to the sea wall where we practiced some towing in moving water. My partner feigned being unable to stay upright, so my option was a contact tow across current and fighting wind: not the easiest choice. I managed to get back behind the wall and into calmer waters with some work. There was a lot of correcting going on and it wasn't fast. For the second round, I got to be towed but now it was a race. My partner used a short tow which was an ideal choice until we got tangled up in another groups long tow... Towing in a crowd is never a great idea.

After the towing we played around for a bit longer doing nothing in particular. I tried some rolling and working the currents coming around the breakwater.

The paddle back was a good chance to take the tip about working the stern to practice. The wind was at enough of an angle that the Aries, which never really goes straight, was getting weather cocked something fierce. I tried using the skeg to straighten her out, but never could get the right adjustment and gave up. What did end up doing the trick was throwing a little sweep into the end of a few paddle strokes. The extra push on the back of the stroke was just enough to correct for the wind.

Unlike my last few Gales, this one lacked epic (borderline unsafe) conditions. But it did offer plenty of opportunity to work skills in challenging conditions with great coaches.

Maybe next year, I'll put in for a weekend pass and attend more than one day....