Saturday, April 29, 2017

Bicycle Hill Climbing Tips

Most commutes have at least one. No matter how hard you try, they’re nearly impossible to avoid. Hills have the power to inflict pain on cyclists of all levels. Want to reduce your commute time and learn to embrace the discomfort of bicycle hill climbing? Read on.
Remember to breathe. It’s a natural reaction to hold your breath or to breathe shallowly when you’re in a stressful or physically challenging situation. But your body needs all the oxygen it can get to power up a climb. Practice filling your belly with air and taking long, deep breaths instead of short, shallow ones. Keep your hands at a wide stance on the handlebars in order to open up the chest.
Get in gear. Unless you’re commuting on a fixie or singlespeed, you should have gearing options to help ease the uphill grind. Consider a triple crankset if you live in a hilly area and check with your local bike shop to be sure your gearing is low enough to tackle the terrain.
Take a seat. It’s easier to sustain a lower heart rate when you’re hill climbing in a seated position. While standing increases the power you’re able to generate, it does so at the cost of an elevated heart rate, which can mean a more painful climb, and expending more energy. Stand when you must, but otherwise stay seated and slide all the way back on your saddle. This position recruits the large and powerful gluteal muscles. Staying seated also allows you to save energy by recruiting your core muscles. To engage your core, resist the urge to sit upright during a climb. Instead lean forward, bending your elbows slightly while keeping a flat back.  This lowers your center of gravity and gives your primary leg muscles a break.
Spin it. Many riders fall into the trap of spinning too low a gear, which quickly fatigues the legs and strains the knees. Instead, try to maintain a cadence of at least 85rpm. As you approach a hill, gradually shift down and work on maintaining a smooth, high cadence. If you drop into your lowest gear too early, you’ll risk spinning out and losing momentum. As you concentrate on cadence, keep taking deep breaths and focus on maintaining this rhythm as you climb.
Give yourself an advantage. It’s difficult for commuter bikes to reduce the weight of their bikes, which can be a big benefit on hills. But you can make small changes like using thinner tires or switching out knobbies for slicks if you’re primarily riding on pavement. Be sure to check your tires before every ride and keep them pumped up to the recommended PSI. And every rider can benefit from the power of mind over matter. Reinforce positive thoughts and visualize yourself pedaling confidently to the top.

Monday, April 24, 2017

Hiking on Dangerous Trails

 When you hike out of the woods and there are no longer rooted trees and plants, it is because you are on ground that can not support life - either sand or rock. And, since sand is just rock that has been pulverized, its all rock and hiking on it safely requires special concerns to keep in mind.

Sand Hiking

If you've ever walked on the beach, you've felt the sand give way with every step you take. When you walk on wet sand that is packed, the going is much easier than on dry, soft sand. When the sand is piled and you are hiking up or across it, every step sinks or slips back making the going slow and more dangerous. Risks of stumbling, twisting your ankle, or causing a sandslide increase as the slope gets steeper and you get more tired. So, go slow, carefully place each step, and look for more stable ground.

Scree Hiking

Scree is bits of broken rock piled up at the base of a cliff. In the mountains, daily heating and freezing of moisture on the solid rock causes it to slowly break the rock apart and tumble down. A scree slope will pile up to its steepest possible angle. Depending on the size and shape of the rock chunks, that angle may be shallow or steep. Any additional rock that falls on the slope will roll down until it finds a resting place or hits the bottom. The same is true for your foot! When you step onto a slope of loose rock, just like sand, it will give way under the weight until the material under it settles with the new weight. This may be 1/32 of an inch or it may be a few inches. In some cases, you may be sliding down the slope along with a couple tons of rock, all looking for stable places to rest.
Established trails across scree tend to be packed indentations where many people have helped push the rock down a bit until there is a slightly wider path across the face of the slope. Scree trails can't have very steep inclines so they typically run straight across or a slight rise. It is very important to remain on the trail and watch your step. I'm not kidding when I say that you can find yourself 100 yards downhill with 1 to 5 pound rocks bouncing all around you from just one mis-step.
Screeing is a fun, very dangerous tactic of quickly descending a scree slope. If the scree is small enough and deep enough, you can kind of ski down it in your boots. You are actually creating a mini-rockslide and riding it down. Make sure there are no larger rocks to trip you up and no one below you. And, there's a good chance you will take a tumble, so doing it only on grape or orange sized scree rather than cantelope and watermelon sized scree is a good idea.

Talus Hiking

Talus is really what scree is. People just tend to call smaller bits of rock Scree and bigger stuff Talus. Really big Talus is called Boulders. It's all the stuff that has broken off of mountains and piled up. Depending on the composition of the original rock, the pieces of talus will be tiny, huge, or somewhere in between. Don't tell anyone, but this is really my very favorite kind of hiking. It can be very dangerous and takes a lot of effort, but when things are just right, you feel just like a wild mountain goat scampering wherever you want to go. Boulder hopping is when you step or hop from one boulder to the next in a large field of talus. In good hiking boots with grippy rubber soles, on dry rocks this is fun. Instead of working your way between big rocks, you are stepping on the tops of them. Besides, I get scared when I'm standing between two big rocks - I feel like an ant between the finger and thumb of my son. :-()
After practice and you are sure of your strength, balance, and ability, you can practically dance down a boulder field. Know where you are landing and have the next couple of steps already planned ahead. I usually hop back and forth when descending a steeper field because the change in direction helps slow me down - its kind of like turning on skis to slow down.

Cautions on Rock of All Sizes

  • It's easy to miss a step. Twisted ankles, scraped shins, broken bones are all things to consider. If you are going to boulder hop, think ahead about how you will get out with a broken leg. If you don't think you can, then you should find a different trail or go slowly and carefully.
  • Don't even try rock hopping if it is raining, or your boots are wet, or its cold enough for ice. Any slippery surface will be disastrous.
  • It will take a long, long time to cover a mile. Reduce your distance expectations if part of your trail is on loose scree or talus.
  • Chances of slips and failing rock are greater on the descent than the ascent. You are hitting with much more force coming downhill.
  • Don't hike up a slope at a steep angle. Go across in a switchback style. This gives the rock a better chance to accept your extra weight and keeps the person behind you out of your 'rock schadow' - that danger area where you will kick loose rocks.
  • If you kick loose some rocks, yell "Rock!". If you hear someone above you yell "Rock!", crouch down and cover your head. It's not cool to yell "Rock!" as a joke - kind of like yelling "Fire!" in a theatre.
  • Stay completely focused on where you are putting your feet. Checking out the scenery should only be done when you stop to rest.
  • Use hiking poles for more support on loose rock. If yours have metal tips, they may be more dangerous if you are stepping from rock to rock.

Cycling truths

We cyclists lie to ourselves. A lot. Like most of the human race we rely on perception rather than reality. We are our own marketing managers and spin doctors, massaging reality to tell ourselves that all is well in the world. We are not mental. Well, just a little.
Little mind tricks are what keep us pedalling on cold wet rides or slogging through an interval or headwind. They make us better riders or enable us to hold our heads a little higher when we realise that yes actually, we do look a little ridiculous wearing Lycra and hobbling and slipping on our cleats in supermarket aisles whilst searching for cheap energy!

Cycling truths and lies

This vicious headwind will make me stronger
I hate cycling and I’m never riding again
I love cycling in the rain
I’ve never felt less human
Intervals are enjoyable
Eugh, what is the point?
I will fix this bottom bracket
What time does the local bike shop open?
Today will be a gentle recovery ride
I’m knackered
This will be a gentle spin
Until somebody overtakes me
I’ll eat the perfect carbohydrate and protein blend when I get in
Food, give me food, anything!
These new bib shorts are amazing
My ass hurts a little less and the pain is enough to distract me from their extortionate cost
I don’t care about Strava leaderboards
I was slow today, must do better
These new Lycra clothes make feel so comfortable
Why do people at work look at me so funny?
I’m feeling good today
Let’s pretend that tailwind isn’t there
I’m excited about my first Cat 4 race
I wonder which lap somebody will bring me down?

I don’t need a new bike
But I want one
I’m a grinder, a real masher
My cadence is poor
I hate turbo training
Really, I do
Zwift is rubbish
I’ve not tried it yet
My commuter bike lights are 10,000 lumens
No more SMIDSY
Sportives are shit
I’m way too cool for all that nonsense
My bike weighs less than 7kg
I can continue feeding my real ale habit
Today is a rest day
It’s raining
These new wheels make me feel so much quicker
My average speed less so
I’m aiming to complete LEJOG in 3 days
I’m a little mad
I love cycling up hills
There’s no other way home

My Garmin reads 49.9 miles and I’m home
Better get back out and cycle 0.1 miles around the block
I’ll clean my bike today
Maybe next week, it’ll only rain anyway
Buying a new chain will prolong the life of my chainset
Degreasing my chain is a right palaver
My new saddle is 60g lighter
The extra padding in my chamois weighs 70g
I shave my legs to feel more pro
I’ve no idea why the pros do this
Sausage and bacon McMuffin is protein for recovery
Oh my god this is amazing I don’t care how slow I ride
I was taking it easy at the back of the group
I got dropped
Yeah I’ve a big stretching routine post-ride
The cake is on the top shelf of the food cupboard
That stage of the Tour de France was amazing
I saw the crash gif on Twitter
I’ve learnt to take it easy and enjoy cycling
I’m old and getting slower
I’m more of a sprinter
Wait for me at the top of this hill
I love riding in the rain
I’m time poor and don’t get to choose when I ride
Steel is real
I’m a slave to aesthetics
That was the perfect ride
I managed to stop for a pee without getting caught

I’m not quite race weight yet
I enjoy food
My new bike has electronic gears
My kids won’t miss Christmas this year
I don’t need Lycra
I’m not riding very far and have yet to experience chafing
Outside is free
Don’t tell anyone how much my bike cost and shhh, stop pointing at the Rapha labels
Anyone up for chat laps?
We can talk about my lack of training
My kit must be matching
It’s the only way I’ll look good on a bike
Power meters? Pah, I ride on feel
I usually feel bad
I’ve just upgraded to Dura-ace
My wallet is much lighter
Protein is essential after a big ride
I’ll stop at the kebab shop on my way home
Yeah, my new jersey is Italian race fit
We all know I should have ordered the next size up
That ride was epic
I got a little wet
I’ve not been training much
I will crush you

Friday, April 14, 2017

The end of season break – Enough is enough

We need a break. It’s over. It’s me, not you. I can commit no longer, I need space, I’m tired. Let’s not get emotional, let’s enjoy the memories we shared, fond moments we’ll never forget. So long bike.
Done. Kaput. Finito. The end of the cycling season comes to an abrupt halt, no warning, just like that, you stop cycling. Mercy. One week you’re loving every ride, no end in sight, not even winter will stop you, and then bang, you’re sat inside on a lovely day, no motivation, no guilt, beer in hand, telly on, belly out.

I’m not cycling, I’m not thinking of cycling, I’m not even cycle shopping. I’m well and truly done! Whisper it quietly, I may even be sick of cycling! The shock, the horror.
Every year the season end catches me by surprise. I never plan a break, it just happens. Body and mind decide they can no longer continue, enough they scream, we need a bloody break.

All or nothing

I’m pretty intense. When I set my mind to something, I adopt a lazer-like focus, little distracts me. I’m all or nothing. So after riding hard and often for nine months I’ve been very much looking forward to the break, mind more than body.
Year to date I’ve ridden a couple of hundred miles short of last year’s total and my ride time is a full 24 hours shorter. Yet I’ve never ridden so often with 30 percent more activities than the previous year, and double that of 2014. This despite adopting a three weeks on, one week off schedule. Short and sharp has been my game, this being my first year of structured training.
Time for rest. Despite the abrupt end, the signs have been there for a while. Intensity dipping, distance dropping, times up local hills lengthening, fingers no longer avoiding the snacks at work, a cheeky glass of wine here, there, everywhere.
The real end to my season was actually three weeks earlier, peaking in a hill climb race, satisfied with my results, or at least my performances, my inner chimp finally smiled before closing his eyes, ready for his brief hibernation.
Of course there is no ‘season’. I’m an amateur, yet my year is marked by high and low intensity. When you’re putting in hard efforts three times a week for nine months, then it’s easy to see your cycling as a regime. Such riding is not sustainable, something has to give.
Every passing year my break gets shorter and shorter. Gone are the days when I’d not cycle at all for a few months. Now I’m down to about a month and even then, I’m still riding, albeit with a focus on fun not structure.
This year I’m thinking a couple of weeks off riding completely. No fun rides, no commutes, nothing. Then a few weeks of unstructured riding up to Christmas before returning to action in January. But I cannot choose. My body and mind will know when it’s time to return. Until then, I’m looking forward to some time off.

The joy of the off season

Ahhh. No riding. Normally this would send me into a panic but not now, for this is a break well earned. I owe it to myself to rest. No longer do I watch what I eat. Booze is back, after many months of restricting myself I can now finally give in to that sweet, sweet smell of alcohol. And chocolate. And fat. And idleness.
I can indulge in some of my favourite non-activities. Horizontal all day, watching minor sports on the television, plenty of cups of tea and coffee, little bits of chocolate here and there, more snacking, and much more doing nothing. Lazing in bed when others are out on icy frozen roads, electrolytes courtesy of my salt cured bacon sandwiches, no need to worry about how many carbs I’m eating every hour, no need for padding in the seat of my pyjamas.
Mentally, this is a time to switch off too. To not worry about how I’ll fit three rides into my week, or how many layers of Lycra are needed to beat the chill, or if I’ve eaten enough food to make sure I’ll make it back home!
I can wear clothes without revealing my anatomy to the world, climb a hill as slowly as I like, stay in bed, sheesh, I can even stay up past my usual child-like bed time. Bliss.

Entropy and the need to be doing something

Bliss will inevitably turn to disquiet, to boredom, to frustration, nay, even anger. No release, no movement, no joy. Stuck inside I’ll gasp for fresh air, for adventure.
Commuting by tube rather than bike will quickly wear and turn from novelty to hell, usually by the end of the first journey. The unedifying smell of others, cramped and crushed together, cattle going to market – at least they don’t have to repeat the journey on the return. People do this every day? Wow.
Body rested, it begins to quiver with excess energy. Long standing aches and pains are banished. I’m healed. Mentally too, I’ll be itching to be back on the bike, to be free, to be challenged, to be at peace. The anticipation will build and build, a child on Christmas eve, eager to play with his new toys, patience thin.