spin class blues

spin class
Originally uploaded by Ben McLeod

I went to a spin class last night. About two minutes into it I remembered something; I really don't like spin classes. The bikes are nothing like real bikes, the room smells horrible, and you don't go anywhere!

On top of that, the instructor played The Who, The Beatles, The Who, The Beatles, The Who.... for an hour (the only non Beatles or Who song was that ode to rednecks by Lynard Skynard - Sweet Home Alambama - one of THE WORST songs ever)! I'm a fan of both bands (and I HATE Lynard Skynard), but.... come on! Variety is good. Monotony is bad.

In the instructor's defense, he was playing to the crowd; a bunch of 50 and 60 year-olds that I guess did not appreciate the hip-hop he had been playing lately.

The Bikes
Spin class bikes feel nothing like a real bike. The one I was lucky enough to get had wobbly handlebars and a jiggly saddle (which also pointed down making me slide off of it every 10 seconds or so). The pedals had either cages - which I find annoying - or SPF clips that I don't have cleats for. Also, they didn't spin in a circular motion, more like an oval, which was incredibly disconcerting and somewhat uncomfortable (but frankly, not as bad as it sounds). And what's up with the shifting/friction thingie?! There must be a better way.

The Music
As I already stated, this class played nothing but The Beatles and The Who with a horrific redneck song thrown in just to make me freak out.

I imagine that this is the hardest part for an instructor. Not everyone will like every song you play. I've been to a few dozen spin classes in my life (there was a time in Concord when I went a few times a week for a few months) and only liked every song played in about 4 or 5 classes.

The Instructor
That was the big bright spot to this class. This guy was nice and even humble, a trait uncommon in the spin class instructors I've met. Generally, I've found them to be a miserable lot who think rather highly of themselves.

In Conclusion
I'd like to buy a trainer. That way I can pick my music (or watch TV).

However
I got to ride next to Nikki, and I always like that (she is my best friend, after all!). Then, after the class, we went swimming with the boys in the amazing pools at the SHARC. The "warm water pool" is a shallow pool that starts at 0 inches deep and goes to 4 feet. In the middle, there's a big gadget that dumps water onto the kids (and adults) that wander beneath it.

Liam showed us what he learned in his swim classes, and Camper, fearless as he is, repeatedly jumped in (at first we caught him, but as he grew more bold, we just stood by and watched as he'd jump in, land on the bottom, and jump up). At one point, the lifeguards turned on the waterslide into the big pool, so Liam and I went for a few runs.

Meanwhile, in the outdoor pool, the high school team was hosting a swim meet.

So yeah, I'll be back for more spin classes and more fun in the pool. Maybe there'll be better music next time - or maybe I'll bring my iPod (with big-ass headphones)!

fall family ride

fall family ride
Originally uploaded by Ben McLeod

It was a sunny, beautiful autumn day today so we took the McLeod family bike-train for a ride. It was close to 60 degrees out, so I wore shorts and a long-sleeve jersey, while the rest of the crew was a little more bundled up.

Basically, we rode out to the base of the hills that surround Hillsboro (out to Forest Hills Golf Course) and back via Rood Bridge Road (which brings us by another golf course - I guess you could call this route the Golf Course).


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The mostly flat route takes us through farmland and nurseries, with great views of Mt. Hood, Mt. Jefferson, Mt. Adams (the sun glowing off the new snow on the peak was creating a gorgeous alpenglow!), Mt. Saint Helens, and a glimpse of Mt. Rainier.

We saw cows, horses, chickens, llamas (OK, OK, alpacas!), geese, and goats - to which, Liam and Camper would shout a greeting. At one point Liam even yelled a greeting to a farmer ("hello farmer!"), who politely - and graciously - gave us a wave.

Most of the trees were barren, with a few still clinging to their leaves (or is it the other way around?) but the scene was almost more reminiscent of spring than fall as many of the fields are verdant with the fresh shoots of whatever was recently planted (lettuce, spinach, rye?) having just broken free of the soil.

The ride ended with a trip to the Rood Bridge playground, so everyone came away satisfied. At close to 20 miles, it was the longest ride Liam has ever ridden on his trail-a-bike - this time he even pedaled a little!

winter[riding] season begins

winter[riding] season begins
Originally uploaded by Ben McLeod

I went out for a ride in the rain today.

The rainy season set in about a week ago and I've been dying to go out and play in it. Camper and I have been taking the Breezer/Chariot combo out for some fast laps around the neighborhood, but we haven't hit upon any serious rain - just a drizzle-or-two.

I've been wanting to take my road bike out in the wet conditions, but haven't had the chance to until today. It poured this morning, which was a little more than I was prepared for, so I waited until the clouds broke and the sun came out.

The pavement was wet, and while the sun was shining at the moment, there were still scattered showers all around. Perfect.

I put my bike stuff on, grabbed my bike and set out on my usual route.

I quickly made a discovery
Skinny bald race tires are not the best option for wet riding conditions.

Compensating for the lack of surface contact, I continued on.

As I rode toward the hills, I noticed the fact that I really couldn't see them, and the way the sun was making those low-level clouds ahead of me glow, was spectacular. I then realized that was not clouds ahead as much as it was a wall of water.

I plowed headlong into the water and was quickly consumed by the downfall. It was pouring, and all the while, the sun was pounding down on me. I had a shadow!

The sun was on one side of me, and on the other was a huge, double rainbow. One end was i a stand of trees amid a wheat field, and was making the trees glow. The other end was on the barn and silo of a farm and was lighting them up.

I rode out of the rain after a few minutes, but looking towards the hills, could see that it was raining. A fifteen-hundred foot descent on wet roads with my current tires was already discouraging. Doing it in the pouring rain was out of the question.

I detoured onto SW Johnson School Road and rode back towards Rood Bridge.

The sun was shining and I quickly dried off in the breeze (of my totally-hauling-ass speeds!). Wool is good for that. I kind of like riding in cooler temperatures. In the summer heat, it's hard to regulate your body temperature, but when it's 55 degrees out, it's easy (wool tights, long-sleeve poly shirt, wind/water resistant jacket - add a layer if it's cooler, open vents of it's warmer, etc.).

It was a good first-of-the-season ride.

First Cyclocross event

in the maze
Originally uploaded by Ben McLeod

Nikki and Camper attended their first cyclocross race on Sunday. Liam and I are, of course, veterans.

We all went to the first of the Cross Crusade races; which will take place every Sunday for the next two months. Going in, I knew that I was already interested in trying out a race. It was fun to watch Nikki get increasingly drawn in, until she finally said that she too would like to give this cyclocross thing a try!

The race was fun to watch - lots of mud flying and people sliding - and the venue itself was a fun atmosphere.

The course looked challenging, but doable. There were the requisite obstacles, from stairs to muddy hills, some twisty, turny riding and some fast straightaways.

I'll be gone next weekend, and the Sunday after that, we're celebrating Liam's birthday, so it looks like our next chance to try a race would be Sunday the 25th in Astoria.

Back in the saddle

me and my Masi
Originally uploaded by Ben McLeod

My first ride since my "incident" a week-and-a-half ago. This time I stuck to my normal, low-traffic route.

I took my beloved Masi into the Hillsboro Bike n' Hike last week before my trip to NH, thinking that I'd have to leave it there for an extended repair. Instead, the guys in the shop performed an on-the-spot "post-crash" checkup for me (check the frame's integrity, as well as the fork, handlebars, etc.).

They had to bend the derailleur hanger back into place, as well as the right shifter on my handlebar. They also made some quick adjustments to the derailleur - but that was it, and all it cost me was a twelve-pack!

Of course, the whole drivetrain needs to be replaced, but that can wait (until I have a job, maybe...). For now, my beloved bike is rideable, and I'm back on the saddle.

Cyclocross

it's log!
Originally uploaded by Ben McLeod

Liam and I went up to Bald Peak to watch the Pain on the Peak cyclocross race. I think I found a new obsession!

For those of you that don't know what cyclocross is, here's the Wikipedia entry on it (what did we do before Wikipedia?!).

It was hot and dusty, pretty much the opposite of the stereotypical cyclocross image, but it still looked like a lot of fun. Watching these guys race their bikes in a dusty pack, then hop off and carry their bikes across obstacles made both of us want to try it. They had a junior competition, and when Liam saw the kids go by, he looked at me and said, "I want to try that." I nearly cried.

There's a place in Portland that rents cross bikes, and a series is starting up soon. I think I'll have to give it a try!

Check out my set of pictures here.

@ PDX

@ PDX
Originally uploaded by Ben McLeod

There's a cool display of handmade Oregon bikes at the Portland Airport (PDX) . The bike shown is a Renovo wood-polymer frame with carbon components.

Dear Santa......

In a ditch

Well, it had to happen.

I guess.

Given the amount of rides I go on, and the number of cars that pass me, I was bound to get driven off the road.

Into a four-foot deep gravel-lined ditch.

At 25 miles-per-hour.

The good news: I was able to walk away from it with only a few cuts, scratches, some torn skin and a sore shoulder.

The bad news: My bike is pretty fucked-up, and with my being unemployed and all, I doubt I'll have the money to fix it.

I wasn't hit, but....

I was riding along SW River Road - a route I've never ridden but I thought I'd catch it down to Route 10 - when it happened. The bike lane suddenly disappeared about a half-mile or so before, forcing me into the traffic lane. I was literally riding on the white line when a white van passed me. They didn't hit me or brush me, but were so close that it freaked me out. I swerved, was caught by the gravel (there's no shoulder here; the white line runs along the edge of the pavement, with about 4 inches of gravel before the four foot drop into the ditch) and pitched head first into the ditch.


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I'm not sure what pisses me off more, the fact that there was no oncoming traffic, so the white van had no excuse for not giving me any room (I think he was pissed because the woman driving the truck that stopped to see if I was OK drove really slowly behind me before passing me; he was stuck behind her and took his anger out on me by not giving me an inch), or the fact that there were several cars behind the van that clearly saw me fly face first into a ditch and DID NOTHING! The only person that pulled over was a woman who was driving a pickup truck two cars IN FRONT of the white van. She saw the whole thing in her rear-view mirror and turned around to see if I was OK.

I should have taken her up on her offer of a ride, but I was too stunned and in shock to really talk. I told her that I was OK, but after she drove away I realized that my bike was not. I'm not sure what happened, but the rear wheel doesn't spin easily when my weight is on it (it spins fine when you pick the bike up and spin the pedals). It feels like the brakes are applied, but I can't see any signs of rubbing.

Funny Irony

Before heading out on my ride today, I logged-in to our bank web site and saw that the Oregon DMV recently cashed our check for car registration. Our Share the Road plates should be arriving any day now...

Portland Century

I rode in the Portland Century ride on Sunday, and the swelling in my ass (thank you Boudreaux's Butt Paste!) has now gone down enough to allow me to sit and write about my experience.

For those of you that don't know, a century ride is an organized, fully-supported (rest stops with supplies, support vehicles, and marked courses) 100-mile ride.

It was my second century (but not the second time I've ridden 100 miles in a day. I've done that several times, but not with support). The last one I rode was the Tri-State Seacoast Century in 2003. My total time (including rests) was 7 hours, 15 minutes. My ride time (the time spent in the saddle, chaffing my ass to bits) was 6 hours, 35 minutes.

It was a perfect day for riding; cool, and slightly overcast. I started the ride at 7:30 at PSU in downtown Portland. The ride goes across the Willamette and hops onto the Springwater Corridor for most of the first twenty miles. I hopped in behind a guy that I'm pretty sure was a pro rider (he was totally decked out in Hammer jersey, shorts and socks, had a sweet ride, and crazy sculpted legs). I drafted behind him (we were moving at about 25 mph; I could feel him pulling me along. If I fell too far behind, I'd have to pedal like mad to catch back up, but then could rest once I was back in his slipstream) for most of the length of the Springwater until we reached a cluster of riders that he was able to deftly maneuver around. I was not so lucky.

We started to climb at about mile twenty, and then dropped down a fun descent around mile twenty-five (see the map and elevation profile to the right, or here. Thanks to Matt Haughey). This is where all of the riding in the Hillsboro Hills this summer came in handy. I blew by people huffing their way up to the second rest stop (I skipped the first one) at Eagle Fern Park. I pulled into Eagle Fern Park to re-fill my water bottles, eat strawberry shortcake, a peanut butter sandwich, a banana, and a Hammer bar.

As I was leaving the rest stop, a guy was entering and screaming at someone in a acr. I couldn't really hear what his problem was, but I did hear him ask the driver if he wanted to get out of car and discuss it (this was no hot-head, young rider; he was easily in his 60's). The driver did not take him up on his offer and drove away. I, and everyone around me assumed that the driver had not given the biker enough room on the road.

About a half hour later, while riding a narrow, winding road, this same biker came upon a group of us riding together. Everytime a car would approach from behind, someone would yell "car back" and we would all get a in a single file line to allow the car to pass. Not this guy. He would ride out into the middle of the road to block the cars. At one point, someone yelled, "hey man, car back. Get into single file!" To which, he responded, "fuck them. They need to learn to share the road." I guess he didn't get the irony in his statement.

It's riders like that that piss off people in cars, and make them hate the biking community.

At mile fifty, I went to hop off my bike for a moment, but my right pedal wouldn't clip-out, so I fell on my side and bent my derailler. It made it so that I couldn't utilize my lowest three gears. A total bummer on the hills I was dealing with at the moment! Luckily, there was mechanical support at the Fireside Retreat rest stop at mile 58 (of course, that was the end of the climbing).

The mechanics got my bike all fixed up (sort of.... I think I need a whole new drivetrain) so I could finish the ride.

The ride from the Fireside Retreat rest stop to the next stop at Blue Lake Park was mostly downhill and brought us along the Historic Columbia Highway and through Troutdale and it's lovely outlet malls. I was feeling a little tired, but still pretty good.

The rest stop at Blue Lake Park was at mile 73. After that, we rode on the bike path that goes along the Columbia River. That part was the worst. I was starting to get tired and had to deal with some pretty high winds coming off the "Mighty Columbia" as well as families out for rides and walks on the bike trail.

By the time I reached mile 90, I was pretty sure my ass had fallen off, but realized I was now only 10 miles from the beer. The ride through the wastewater treatment center was almost enough to dissuade me from my longing for the beer. Almost.

The last few miles were through downtown Portland, which was kind of fun, but difficult due to a combination of the traffic, my low energy levels and traffic lights (the constant stopping, unclipping, starting, clipping back in... repeat... was pretty hard). I just kept thinking to myself, "beer... beer..."

As I approached the finish I saw Nikki and the boys. Liam was jumping up and down, and Camper was pointing at me yelling, "dadda, bike! Dadda, bike!"

It was a wonderful finish; I had my family there to greet me, free beer, an incredible salmon dinner, more free beer, and a great goodie bag that included beer and coffee.