The first part was mellow – 20km of bike path where I met up with 84 year young Richard Ryan and rode with him.  After the bike path was a 20 km ‘death stretch’ of highway, literally one of the deadliest roads in the country for cars, and no shoulder for bicycles.  I have to say that my guardian angel was looking out for me, because no more than 300m down the road and a friend Mark Henson drove past and offered me a lift to the next quiet side road (and I gladly bypassed the gauntlet).

Bypassing Taft my luck turned: I marveled as a roadside field was crop-dusted, and then coughed up lung-fulls of what was most likely roundup as the air was thick of it.  My mouth and throat tasted bitter for the next 3h.  Locals I later talked to complain of chronic headaches (Ms Brockovich?).

Next there was Mad-Max like landscape strewn with oil derricks, followed by Marcopia, and nearly ghost-town.  One of the few ‘open’ places was the ‘members only social club’.  Grocer Grade was around 45 minutes, but slightly quieter, and from there I turned onto hwy 33 to Ojai, which had a car ever 5 minutes (mostly dirt-bikers) who soon turned off leaving me to the calm and beauty of Pine Pass.  I’m only telling you this because of the contrast of the geographically quiet areas.  Cars cheered me here, or slowed to give me thumbs up.  The descent is fantastic, and frequently used for automobile commercials.

Around Ojai my late start began to haunt me as it got dark just before entering the urban- naval sprawl of Ventura.  The moon was nearly full, shoulders decent, and I had lights so I rode on (at a good clip) for a few hours, stopping for supper of tabuli and a flat tire.  At last I was into quieter areas, and I found a beach which was closed to cars from sundown to 8am, set up camp and was instantly asleep.

Once on the road to Malibu I rode with, and chatted to a group of 3 cyclists, then stopped at a Burrito Truck for breakfast.  Every cyclist I saw stared at me, but only 2 of the hundreds waved back (including only one of the 3 I’d just been riding with).  Even passing cyclists would ignore my ‘hello’s’ – this part of life on Southern California coast always irks me to no end – the ‘paradise’ snobbery.

Once in Malibu I was onto a network beachfront boardwalks – through Redondo beach and the Trump golf course.  From there you enter San Pedro which degrades as it’s the LA shipping port – which is fine but the poorly marked California coastal bike route becomes lost in a web of bridges and trucking lanes.  I thought I was doing fine until I found myself somehow cycling around the Port of Long Beach for 30 min.  I could see where I wanted to go, but it was 4 train tracks, 2 sets of barb wire, Interstate 710 and a canal away.  Eventually I gave up and followed the signs to ‘Downtown Long Beach’ which was an on-ramp, a short stretch on the interstate and I was in the ghetto (literally front yards are cordoned off with 10’ high chainlink fences) which gives way to sky scrapers and then once again pristine beaches.  I always shake head (did that just happen?) and breath a sigh of relief.  From there it’s on to Huntington beach and a pleasant bike path on to NewPort.

Now I like Newport, it’s off the PCH and once again strangers say hello.  Which I like.  Somehow I managed to get there a little late, and after 370km I was very sweaty, smelly, and now cold.  I went to …. (which wasn’t open) banged on the door, and the bartender gave me a key to the apartment with instructions on finding towels and to ‘make sure the cat doesn’t escape’.  Yeah I like the humanity of this place, what a breath of fresh air.

The next 36h are classified, no pictures exist – it was something between what my mother would be OK with and what Billy would be OK with.

I slept, and go for an hour barefoot run on the beach – do you realize that there is a gradeschool here whose playground is literally the beach, and a paved basketball court surrounded by sand!  Cycled to the Train station and read Paul Coelho’s Veronika Decides to Die which is a really great book, the nut of it is questioning the logic about being normal.  Alice thanks for introducing me to Coelho.

Chris and Mel – all the best see you soon.

Send me a note if you want oranges, and are local.

Other than that I have just read the Julie & Julia book, after my mother raved about the movie.  The book had a lot of swearing, and other stuff.  Anyhow I managed to watch the movie last night, and while it was  little chick-flicky I woke up, watched JC on Youtube – looks easy eh?  I like the ‘add a teaspoon…  add a table spoon of butter’ part.  Hmm.  I went a little less ‘coz Evils pans don’t stick, and gave it a whirl.  My omelet was thicker than hers, and I couldn’t (as a result) get it to wrinkle/ roll like she did.

But I threw it on the plate (with a spatula) added hot-sauce, organic arugula and sour cream, rolled it and it was fantastic.

I will need to work on that shakey-part, but Julie Powel didn’t get it the first time either, so I feel better.

The Ball is Rolling…

It’s great to be back riding in Bako.   Friday there was a 40% chance of rain in the afternoon (which didn’t sound too bad) so I headed up into the mountains…  The weather report was for the valley.  When I got a chill around 3000′ elevation and stopped to put my last extra piece of clothing on, I looked up to see that I was in a snowstorm.  I rode to the only real place that there was – the Glenville store.  Now I am in ranch country, I had counted only 8 cars on the road over the past 2h (5 my way 3 the other and they ALL waved).  I’d also seen a bob-cat which parked just 5 feed off the road and didn’t budge when I stopped and ‘meaowed’ at it, and either a really big hawk or an eagle.

But there I was hitch-hiking in the snow.  The first family along were Mexicans who had driven farther up to show their son snow.  They weren’t heading to Bako, but they were heading out of the mountains, so I hopped in and played ‘cow spo

As a Roadie I had natural explosive power and accelerations – that ability has not been transformed into a long running diesel power.

The result of these two things is that for the first time in nearly a decade my roadie friends here from Action Sports in Bakersfield CA (the most butt kicking bike shop you will ever see) are able to throw me deep into the hurt locker, and even, gasp drop me.  And don’t think that they’re being nice.

I’ll have only 2 weeks here to rustle up some fitness and extract some revenge before heading off to Tucson and the Personalbest.ca training camps.

From there I went over to Action Sports for a few final bike adjustments so that it was running tip top.  Went to my fav grocery store and stocked up on $140 of organic veggies, rice, nuts, salmon, etc.

At this point I had a decision to make.  Either head to Sams house (where everyone would be waking up at 6am and heading to the race) or Kerry’s, where the food needed to go, and there were guests over, and no one would be waking up at 6am (they woke up between 9 and 11am.

So that was it, we played Reindeer Games – which essentially was doge ball with 6 people, 4 bowling ball sized nerf balls, no teams, with strobe, no, or low lighting.

And that was it.  Fell asleep at midnight, woke up at 8:30 saddled up, rode 1h45 out to the race.  Rode a lap, it was a spectacular course.  It is held in an orange grove/ cattle ranch that is open to the public one day a year.  The bike course, after the oranges climbs up the foothills through a canyon, and then along and over some steep grasslands.  The course – get this – was marked in bones. Yes you read that right.  If you are between the vertebrae, ribs, skulls, pelvis’s of the cows who’ve passed on out here on the range you’re on track.  (Perhaps not ALL California cows are happy, especially while the coyote’s are munching on them.)

Hung out with some friends, drank a beer, ate oranges (and a cookie) and rode home.  Fantastic day, and just under 6h of riding.  I did feel a world better than Friday, but riding the course at steady, was OK, at hard, well that would be Moooffffff-Bleh.

So though I wished I’d raced, I think it was for the best to simply get miles in.

Tuesday I’ll head out on the group ride as a benchmark of my fitness.

PS mark the Rumble on your calenders for 2011 you’re sill to miss out on the event.

PPS that picture is not me… I was on a cross bike – and still haven’t found the battery charger for my camera.

2×3min (usually I would do 5min).  At the end of the second one my legs looked ok but didn’t really have any sensations at all.

I am riding compact cranks (3-4 teeth smaller than regular chainrings) and normally after 2 weeks of riding they start to feel ’small’ and after 4 weeks of riding I’m going well.

By next month I could have an honest showing at this race.

What race?

Well I’m not going to tell you, lest you try looking up my result.

1) It’s tomorrow

2) A local friend is the promoter

3) I WILL be racing under an alias

It will be ugly to repeat a previous statement.

If I were sensible I would go easy and run/ bike (there is hint #4) along with a friend, but I’m seldom sensible.

Here are pictures of my past 2 weeks of cross training.

Now I’m off top open up the running side of things, which should be interesting.

I hope that everyone is having a great time regardless of your beliefs.

Remember that the spirit is joy and happiness – not stress and debt.  Even if Americans spend more on Christmas gifts than the military costs for the entire year… have FUN.

We have snowshoeing and rather last minute tree cutting going on tomorrow, once Alice and Justin arrive.  Later will be all the traditional foods and whot-not.

One tradition that goes on with out fail, and always stirs up funny emotions in my gut is Fireside Al’s reading of ‘the Shephard’

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HsF8o4DDX3Y part one
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-8s5igfnT5o part two
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wLrEEqtxUFY part 3
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=acL27hTbzMQ part 4

Otherwise I’ve been digging, nailing and getting Justin & Kelly (Jelly) a Shed built.  Dad came down for the final push (and was paid in perogies, sausage and Ethiopian food)

Before:

Here are a few photos of that event.  Overall it was a lot of fun, and one of the first projects I can remember (I am sure that there are others) working on with my dad since making my cub car.

Down in Florida I’ve ridden past his house a few times, but to clarify, that gives me NO insight what-so-ever.

Anytime something like this comes to light, there are always fake confessions.

What makes this different?

1) Tiger admitting to ‘transgressions’ is kind of unique.  In the era of ‘ultra-celebrities’ buying their way out – confessing and obvious shame is a relief.  He’s Human, not what ever else Lance, Jordan, OJ, Jacko (I digress).

2) OK.  You are the highest paid sportsman on the planet.  Your wife is a smokin’ hot ex model, who seems to be pretty cool (she chased him with a golf club!).  Of all the girls he has been involved with – his wife is the best looking.  DUDE???

That porn star is haggard!  And a 40 year old?  I’m not 40 but if you are going to pay 10’s of thousands of hush money to a mistress shouldn’t it be more like a 62 year old stone and 20 year Russian?

3) Sponsors leaving him.  Tag Heuer is going to limit Tiger’s exposure.  Their $3200 Tiger Watch is discounted 27%.  Should they not be celebrating this?  The watch should be $4000 because once you buy it you will have more mistresses than you can keep track of!

4) Summary.  He’s a golfer (and dumbass) not the Dali Lama, winning masters doesn’t make you a saint.  Tiger, go golf (gentlemen only, ladies forbidden?)

ROOFING

OK I spent a day roofing.  Yes it was below freezing, yes plywood covered with ice, and tipped on an angle, not close to the ground is not a good idea.  But this is Canada, and my ‘project’ has no roof.  Well that was this morning.

Secret: Leave your tool-belt inside.  Keep the nails in your pockets so that they warm up.  You have to get them out with bare hands, and the warmth from your pocket will go such a long way.

Tomorrow = Siding.

Super Athlete Faulkner Banquet Speaker

Out shopping a week (ish) ago Natalie took it upon herself to grab a doll and vehemently claim it as her own.  Now she takes ‘baby’ everywhere with her, holds it, looks after it – and when she’s bored, drops it on it’s head.

When I was at a similar stage of my life, my parents were expecting my brother.  To help me become more accepting of the soon-to-be newborn they decided that I should get a ‘baby’ of my own.  So they started hyping this baby doll, and sure enough I soon was excited to be off to the store (where else) and come home with my own child.  Baby, baby, Baby, baby, was the chant as we entered the shop.

The big day arrived, and as my parents where in the doll section searching for the ‘ideal’ one when they noticed I had wondered over to a different section where I was happily entertaining myself.

BULLDOZER!!!!!!!!!!

That is the story of my first Dozer.

Boys will be boys, and girls will like dolls.

I am sorry that I wasn’t able to get a side picture of the Dragon and the Paper Bag Princess… it was a great costume.

My first dilemma was finding a person with canoe experience and free time to head out with.  Then I remembered that my friend SMAK (HUGE thanks for Tak) had dragon boating experience and a half cocked plan was launched.I spent the morning securing the canoe to the roof of the rental, and actually packing the assembled clothing into dry bags, and then my back pack.  After extreme waffling on where to go, we headed to Canoe Lake in Algonquin Park bought a map and were off.

Even starting a little later in the day, we made great time.  The first few portages are manicured, and I did my one solo portage but overall all we cranked out a good distance to Burnt Island Lake.  We realized that we’d forgotten a watch but the sun peeked through the clouds that we got the hint and camped ASAP.

So that was about where I got to the day after the canoe trip.  It’s a month later now, so I think I’ll proceed to say that it was a great time.  It rained on and off every day, was never too warm usually getting down to around freezing at night.  But that’s how the weather has been this fall.

Algonquin is great, but it’s a glaciated sheet of granite.  Which means that it’s a huge mess of small ponds, swamps and rivers.  Connecting these wet patches involves getting OUT of the boat and walking with a boat ON you.

Portaging Sucks.  Carrying a canoe and all your camping gear is not a quick endeavor.  Especially when your canoe is a hair under 70 lbs and not shaped in any manner to carry easy.  I wussed out and only once (see pic) carried it solo.  When I told Glen that SMAK had helped carry the canoe on every other time, Glen’s comment was ’she’s tough’.  SMAK you heard it here, it’s on the internet and official.  Not to mention because it was raining, the lower end of the canoe was filling up with water, and I was not carrying the lower end.

We walked at LEAST 6km every day.  The one day’s 23oom trek took 2h15.  The following 14km back to the car took 1h45.

Conclusion?  On canoe is better than under canoe.

Sure I’d much rather have been getting ready for Kona, but this was a great time to get away, and regroup.

Most of the weekend I was packing up sold items from the pile of things I e-bayed for Cam.  That ended in a 8km TT to the post office to mail them before closing, and 8km tt back.  After that I decided to put my shoes on and go for a 8km run.  The loop has a lot of technical off road, which isn’t really fast, and everything else seems to be uphill.

It’s next to some quieter spots on the north branch of the Muskoka River.  Which means without fail I startle beavers along the river banks… so I always think of it as the ’scared beaver loop’.  Which makes me laugh.  The dog likes to frighten the beavers when shes along too.

After showering off I looked out the window to see these deer in the driveway.

Cool eh?

Maybe tomorrow I’ll get a picture of dad’s bear (it pushed over his apple tree to pick the fruit 2 years ago – it was a small-ish tree).

Mom is off for ‘ladys weekend’.  Good to have one of those every 5-60 years.  We’re eating lasagna for the 4th night in a row and no one is complaining.

Up next?  Perhaps a canoe trip and another bike tour or hike.  Anything to procrastinate getting a JOB.

(This is for all of you who complained about tweeting not = BLOG content)

Newsletter Excerpt:

FAULKNER WINS A CANOE/TRIATHLON:

Never one to be fearful of new challenges, C3’s bike/tri-expert, Nat
Faulkner won a canoe triathlon several weeks ago.  ”This race is older than
the Hawaii Ironman and has over 2000 athletes” said Faulkner.  The Faulkner
trophy case has now become several rooms in his parent’s Bracebridge Ontario
home.  Last weekend, Faulkner and his brother Justin, had the fastest
two-man time for the Kinetico 10 mile run (winning the overall team category
and having the day’s fastest individual run leg).

Here is a story that I started last November.  It’s been in the draft bin for a while, now, and I thought that I’d finish it off.

I am very sad that there will be no Maui for me in 2009.  I loved Maui.

Eventually the holiday had to end – It was tuckering me out.  I caught a mid day flight to Maui and met Doc Aron.

After hanging out in the charming,  hippy, rainy, funky, time capsule (the pool hasn’t been maintained since December 7 1941) of Hilo, Maui was a change.  More fashionable (if Tommy Bahama is your idea of fashion).  I enjoyed the funky ways, and cheap fruit of the big island.  But Maui?  I LOVED Maui.

The catch with Maui was that I had a big race in 5 days time and I had to ‘tourist’ less and focus a little more on the pending race.  Aron set me up with a rent a wreck, and housing 1/4 way up the mountain with Bill and Kris, who are a super cool couple living in a beautiful house with a dog named after the most aggressive cyclist of our generation – VINNY

I loved Maui.  Like every other place in Hawaii swimming pools are free.  I did a tune up swim 4 days out and sucked.  So I did swim intervals over the next 3 days.  It turned out that I was in a 27m (classic Hawaiian) but the result was that I got a few solid swims in with Kris.  Not so much on the bike.  I rolled around, did some run intervals on the track.

Everyday I drove around the island getting to the race venue.  Ian of Specialized was there, and between Vegas, Kona and here, I have seen more of him than anyone else over the past month.

My last night in town I looked over and thought I saw a familiar face, but it couldn’t be.  Sure enough Ryder Hesjedal, the first Canadian to ride the Tour de France (and recent 2nd place finisher on a Vuelta Stage).

Before the run was the canoe though, I sat in the back snacked and navigated while Mark steamed away up front.  Some clowns had over 4 minutes on us starting the 10 km run leg, but around the 7th km I could see a person running who looked like a fast canoe’r.  Just before the 1 mile climb to the line I passed him.  Damn, that was a tough last mile, and I’m feeling it now.

It was a relief to get a win, even if it was the last race of the season.  I also really liked to run into the win, after having had a few rough runs.What else?  I’m e-baying a heap right now… must make money.  It was my most expensive season by far.  As a cyclist I always saved money but as a triathlete it seems to be bleeding money out of me.  I guess driving to Jersey vs. flying to France, and free vs. $500-700 entry fees for races makes a difference.  (Read the first part again)

So I am back in Bracebridge for a few weeks, and hopefully can find someone interested in going for a bike tour, hike, canoe trip or…   You know just to get out in the woods and relax for a bit.  Let this 2009 season go to bed for good.

OF course there is still the Kinetico run coming up.  I’ll be on a 2×5 mile relay with my Brother.  First time we’ve been at the same race in over a decade.  Kids race for free so c’mon out.

Lastly I ran into this product description and thought it was funny.

Tri Clamp

This simple device clamps to the seat post instead of the seat rails, and it fits virtually all seat post shapes. No one else makes one like it. Triathletes popularized this behind-the-seat method of carrying water due to their need to hydrate like crazy, since once the bike ride was over, it still wasn’t over. It’s common to use two reserve bottles behind to dump into the front bar-mounted bottle, the one with the giant straw attached.

I’ve never owned one of their products, but if YOU have the need here they are.

Finally, I love Gears Bike Shop, when I needed a road bike for last weekend, Scott the bike fitter lent me his own personal one.  That doesn’t always happen on a nice fall weekend.  If you are a new or returning to the Mississauga area, it’s worth stopping in (Mississauga Rd and Lakeshore).  Send me a line in advanced and I can set you up with 10% off and special treatment (though you may not get to leave with Scott’s personal bike).

L-8r