Trans North Georgia

I've discovered a pattern in my thought processes. Basically, if I get an idea in my head, it's going to happen sooner or later unless I can convince myself that the outcome would be total misery and destruction. Realizing this pattern, I've tried to quit second guessing myself without being too impulsive. I've even gone through with some bad ideas, knowing they were bad at the time, because eventhough the chance of failure was high, the consequences were manageable.

The most prominent case being the time I tested out my Hobie 16 homemade solo righting system. I think it goes without saying, that flipping a boat over on purpose, when you're out by yourself, knowing there's a good chance you won't be able to right it, is a bad idea. But it just so happened, that the conditions were favorable that day: minimal tidal movement and a mild south wind. So, worst case I'd drift into the beach. I even lined up with a specific part of the beach I wanted to drift into. Long story short, my righting system failed, I drifted into shallow water and still spent twenty minutes trying to get it upright. I even attracted a few spectators on the beach. Eventually, I righted the boat and went on my way.

Following that same pattern, I've had the idea of racing the Trans North Georgia for a few months now. Admittedly, it's a bad idea. The TNGA is a 350 mile mountain bike ride/race from South Carolina to Alabama, through Georgia's roughest terrain complete with bears, snakes, and hillbillies. See Deliverance for reference. Technically it's not a race, but, as all cyclists should know, when two or more bikes are in close proximity, it is always a race. Sadly, the mileage of this event isn't even the bad part. The real kicker is the 56,000ft of elevation gain. That's nearly twice the height of Mt Everest, ridden in two or three days.

So why put myself through this? Because it's there. Because there's a ~50% failure rate for first timers, and that chance of failure is enticing. Also, if I don't do it this year, I'll be waiting until 2018. I've already got plans to see the solar eclipse in 2017.

Luckily, I have a pretty good starting point as far as training goes. I really don't plan on doing much fitness-wise. But, I want to get used to eating while riding and maybe experiment with riding while fatigued. I also need to perfect my gear set-up: shoes/pedals, saddle, handlebar position/grips. And, of course I'll need to decide what to bring and which bike to bring, which means coming up with a strategy. Some people recommend riding twenty hours a week to prepare for such a long race, but I think that's unnecessary. After a certain point, endurance is all about being mentally strong and staying fuelled up.

The race starts August 20th, which gives me six months to get things sorted out. I'll be posting training/gear updates between now and then along with the usual topics of work, racing, inefficiency of cars, etc. Stay tuned!

Gravel and High Points

While researching Thacker Mountain - a known high point near the Whirlpool Trails - I came across this website. Apparently some people make a hobby out of finding local high points in places where there are no mountains to summit. Thacker "Mountain" is one of the high points listed, but unfortunately, it is now private property. The other two high points listed for Lafayette County are off of some back-roads in Holly Springs National Forest.

Fast forward a few months, and I finally decide to go explore the area and maybe get lost on some dirt roads. There's been a recent rise in popularity of riding road bikes on gravel/dirt roads, so I figured I'd see what the fuss was all about and took the road bike.

Getting to the county road that goes into Holly Springs, requires about two miles of travel on Hwy 30, which isn't a major highway but still has plenty of drivers who are in a hurry. After getting off the highway as quickly as possible, I find out that there's a logging operation on the narrow road of CR 225. Great. About a mile after the deforestation, things get really quiet and the road turns to gravel. The only sounds are my breathing, the wind in the tops of the pine trees, and rocks shooting out from under my high pressure tires as I slowly grind up the biggest hill I've seen near Oxford.

The road finally levels off. The two high points are nearby, but I can't distinguish which hill tops are the highest. A couple of times, I get off to scramble up the hill in search of the survey marker but no luck. Back on the bike, the road smooths out to hard-packed dirt and I pick up speed. Too much speed as the road quickly turns back to chunky gravel. I feel rim hit rock multiple times before I can stop. Pinch flat. Luckily it was only the front wheel, and I had a spare tube.

I'd have to be more careful for the rest of the ride. More chunky gravel. I realize I brought the wrong tool for this job and decide to head back to civilization. I find some (rough) pavement again and come up on a turn that will take me back towards town when two dogs start barking at me. No big deal, they're not acting aggressively, just barking. Except there's another sound. A few hundred pound pig comes out of the woods, blocking my way and trotting towards me, grunting. Now, I'm unfamiliar with the do's and dont's around livestock. All I know is big heavy animals can trample me. I turn the other way and ride away from it, but it keeps following me. I gain enough ground to check the map; a possible detour would add several miles to the trip and dump me out in a bad place on Hwy 30. Taking my chances with the pig, I ride towards it slowly as it trots towards me, now near the edge of the road. I get as close as I dare, then sprint passed it. Passed the dogs who've settled down.

I climb a big hill up to the highway, cross it, and descend again. The road starts to level out, and I see more gravel up ahead. No big deal, I'll just go slow. But there's something else. A big dog barking aggressively and leading a small pack, all running full speed trying to head me off. The logical decision here is to slow down and face the dogs, since most dogs just want to bark. Unfortunately, my fight or flight response system overrides any logical thinking. Since I'm already moving at a good speed and know I can out-sprint a dog, my brain selects flight. I press harder on the pedals and hit the gravel at almost 30mph. I'll admit, running on adrenaline and sprinting away from a big dog on an unstable surface was pretty exciting and a little bit fun.

I get chased for about a quarter mile before he lets up. I slow down only to find the other thing I was afraid of. Another pinch flat. Now I'm stranded in the middle of nowhere. Fortunately, a cycling club member came through for me and picked me up. Good thing I had a phone. It would've been a long walk back.

I didn't get to explore nearly as much as I wanted, but at least I now know that there are some cool gravel roads in the area. I'll have to rethink how to get to them though. And bring a better bike next time. A cross bike would be ok, but that gravel is thick enough that a geared mountain bike wouldn't be overkill. Also, there were some closed and abandoned double track trails that looked interesting. I may start making frequent rides out there as the area seems to be a good place to train for the Trans North Georgia! More on that next time.

Lesson learned: road bikes and gravel don't mix. I don't care what others say.

Carless?

I've recently convinced myself that I don't need a car. Oxford is actually a great town for bike commuting, and I've even trained Lucy to ride in a basket. For those few out of town trips, I could ride with friends, rent a car, or if I have time, bikepack. The remaining issue is what to do on mornings like this. It's 40 degrees and pouring rain, nevermind the lightning. Fortunately, this morning I was able to stay home and work towards perfecting my waffle recipe*. But, the day will come when I need to be somewhere.

My current residence is a mile from the bus stop and about 2.5 from campus. Even if I drove to campus, it's still at least a 5 minute walk to class. Might as well just ride. I've got fenders, a good rain jacket, and waterproof boots. I usually feel goofy in rain pants, but they might be warranted on days like this.

Eventhough I don't need a car, I have to admit they are quite convenient at times. They're also extremely expensive when you add up all the associated costs. My little truck is about 40% of my monthly expenses**. Too much for something that stays in the driveway most days. I at least want to downsize. I don't need a car that's big enough to live in.

Another interesting way to think about it is in terms of miles driven divided by hours spent driving plus hours spent working to pay for said car, shown here. The numbers may need some adjusting, but the outcome is that driving and biking equate to about the same speed. Except with biking you end up with more money and better fitness. When did we start thinking that everyone 16+ must have a car? I suppose it comes down to status symbols, indoctrination, bad urban development, yada, yada...

*At the heart of cooking is simple chemistry and thermodynamics. So what makes a lighter crispier waffle? Thinner batter with more oil for crispiness, baking powder for more expansion, and a higher temperature because a lighter waffle doesn't take as long to cook. Also, a waffle maker with more thermal mass would probably produce more consistent waffles.

**Of course that will go down when it's paid off with minimal insurance, but I would still need to budget for repairs.

It Begins Again

The search for the perfect mountain bike. N + 1. Although in this case N isn't really changing since I'm parting out my hardtail. There's also another saying, "as the number of bikes owned increases so do the odds that none of those bikes are working correctly".

As of this moment that rings more true than ever. I bought a new saddle for my road bike, but it didn't fit the seatpost. So, I swapped it for the seatpost on my single speed, but being a setback post, it puts me too far back on my road bike. Also, my road bike seatpost is too short for my single speed. On top of that, my hardtail is completely disassembled in my bedroom right next to 2/3rds of an old steel road bike. It's starting to look like a bike shop in there. Seriously. Tools in one corner, frames/wheels in another, small parts in a third corner, and a bed somewhere in the mix.
#firstworldproblems

On the positive side, my new fork arrived. It's bigger, stronger, and lighter. I've come to the conclusion that if your going to have multiple bikes, they need to be different or at least serve different purposes. A short travel hardtail is just too similar to my rigid bike, but there's also another problem with hardtails. A rigid bike can corner well because it slides predictably; both wheels have similar traction. But with a hardtail, the front wheel has better traction than the rear. One can equalize the traction by increasing the spring rate or increasing the compression damping at the loss of some of the benefits of suspension. In theory, a full suspension bike should have better and equal traction front and rear.

I'll be ordering the wheels and frame in the next month or so. I should be able to get it dialed just in time for next race season.

Driving a Rickshaw

"Do you have, like, really strong calves? I bet you have strong calves. Your going to get soo many girls!" (I can only hope)

- Drunk college girl riding back to the dorms 

Driving a rickshaw is quite an interesting and enjoyable experience, not to mention profitable. In other cultures it's seen as nearly rock bottom for unskilled manual labor. In Oxford, it's seen as a novelty and a convenient mode of transportation. 

When I first got the idea of driving one, I was afraid it would ruin cycling for me. I thought I'd be too tired to do regular fun rides. But, after the first month of driving, I've realized I was afraid for nothing. My mind wants them to be the same, but they're far from it. A bicycle (specifically a racing bike) is light and agile. It accelerates well and leans into the corners. A rickshaw is big, cumbersome, slow, and heavy. The only similarities are the open air and pedalling. 

The rickshaws I drive have an electric assist in the front wheel that helps to maintain momentum. At first I wanted to think that I was contributing the majority of the propelling force. But after some experimenting and having two batteries die on me, I've realized that, at best, I contribute 10 - 15% with the other 85 - 90% being electric or gravity. In a flat city, I might be able to get by without electric power, but in the hills of Oxford, it's an absolute necessity. I can barely pedal an empty cab up hills; there's no way I could haul people up these hills. 

Some people are sadistic though, "Let's see if this scrawny kid can pedal 1000lbs of fat redneck up University Ave!"

Two of them ended up pushing, and I got paid $20 for less than 10 minutes of work. Fortunately those are few and far between. I might just say no next time though.

For the most part, it's as easy or as hard as I want to make it. However, I have noticed an increase in power on my mountain bike. If Oxford was flat, I'd look into investing in my own cab and truly working for myself. A smoother drive train would be nice. I'm not sure I want to invest in the necessary electric components though. I do plan on swapping in my own saddle and maybe pedals too.

I'll be chronicling some of my experiences and observations of driving a rickshaw so stay tuned!

Strava

I have to admit, I'm liking my new phone more and more. It's quite convenient to do so much with one device - tracking ride data, playing music, taking pictures, etc. Strava is probably the app I've been most excited about, to see how I stack up against other riders. I also found it to be quite motivating.

With the storm of the year looming just hours away, I set off to find empty trails - a good time to test the Strava waters. I didn't target any specific segments, just rode the normal training loop at semi-race-pace. I did fairly well considering the trails are covered in leaves and pine straw. Towards the end of the ride, I tried riding over a fallen tree a little too fast. I got the front wheel over fine, but the rear popped up too high and sent me over the bars. The landing knocked the wind out of me but no cuts or bruises.

Looking at the individual segments, it turns out that the guy with the most KOMS (King of the Mountain) doesn't even live here any more. Hopefully, we can get the trails cleaned up in another month or two to get some faster times.

New Tech

Retrogrouch - noun
1. One who is skeptical of technological developments until their usefulness and reliability have been proven.
2. One who insists on minimalist equipment that may be user-serviced.
(seemingly coined by the cycling community, just search the term with Google)

In a culture that ties self worth with always having the latest and greatest technology, it's fun to be different and use old technology even after it's been deemed obsolete. Most people seem to upgrade phones as often as possible, but for me this raises the question: how long can a phone last?

In my case study of one, the answer is about five years. Even with such impressive specs as the Motorola Quantico, the rubber buttons on the side started to dry rot and fall off. It seems self destruction is imminent. This has me finally looking for a smart phone; even though, I'll lose part of my retrogrouch identity.

While I've never gotten caught up in phone tech, bike technology is a different story. My old bike may be a rigid single speed, but it has plenty of (what was) new technology: 29er wheels, tubeless tires, carbon fiber fork, disk brakes, etc. Those were new at the time, but as anyone in the sport knows, the bike industry has been booming for the last 10 years or so.

With carbon frames, hydraulic disk brakes, fine tuned suspension, and every realistic wheel size covered, what else is left? There's a definite risk of stagnation coming over the next few years. But who knows, maybe we'll see 3d printed, complex nano structured frames and/or suspension components that weigh 1/2lbs. Or lightweight, continuously variable, internally geared hubs. Or maybe someone will finally develop a comfortable saddle.

It'll be interesting to see where the industry goes from here. In the meantime keep riding whatever's fun.