Velomoon - May 2016, Bike Month Recap

What began in 1956 as "American Bicycle Month," initiated by the Bicycle Institute of America - an American manufacturers' group - (or possibly the Cycle Trade Association?) is now the League of American Bicyclists' National Bike Month. This is an entire month full of events designed for raising awareness of cycling. For me, every month is bike month but in May I have national-level support when I say, "hey, you should ride your bike!"

For those who can't focus for an entire month, there was bike week. And if a week is too much, there was bike to work day - which was basically just two hours in the morning as far as I could tell, with free coffee cake.

Previously, I participated in a bike challenge called Errandonnée - using your bike to run errands. This became my stepping stone towards mostly eliminating a car from my daily life. This month, I did some organized challenges and events as well as some that I made up myself, just goals really.

National Bike Challenge,
State of California Rankings

1. National Bike Challenge (nationalbikechallenge.org): This is a competition against others to ride the most miles. There are teams (by company, by advocacy group, by club, etc.) as well as state level and community rankings. The challenge was very convenient for me because I simply linked it to my Strava account once and everything else happened automatically.

Team Bike Challenge

2. Team Bike Challenge (bikeeastbay.org): The challenge was almost identical except that it was a regional competition for the East Bay communities. It required manual effort to log each "commute" ride and has some drawbacks which annoyed me but I did it all month. I suspect from watching the leaderboards that other cyclists gave up logging rides at some point.

3. Personal Goal, Only Drive When Necessary: I never drove alone. I only drove a car in situations where someone else was with me - e.g., going out for dinner with my wife. That meant riding my bike to get groceries, to work (or the train station), to other errands. There were rainy days and hot days and challenges like how to bring eggs home from the store.

4. Brewvet Challenge (not online this year): This is a beer-themed adaptation of the randonneur community. To complete the challenge, one must take five rides and drink at least one, unique beer each time and accumulate at least 50 miles. As with the randonneur events, documentation is required - an Instagram photo is sufficient. I completed that challenge, too.

5. Bike to Work Day: This is how cycling went from one of many recreational activities for me, to a defining theme in my life. A few years ago, I would ride about 50 miles per week and drive my car at least 250 miles per week. That year, I rode my bike to work because of Bike to Work Day for the first time. Little by little, it increased to the point where I now ride at least 250 miles per week and probably haven't bought gasoline in close to two months. So, Bike to Work Day 2016 is more about me being an advocate, trying to help the new cyclists and simply being a good example. We had a nice group of about 35 riders do the ~30 mile commute from Pleasanton to San Jose.

6. Bicycle, Pedestrian and Trails Committee (City of Pleasanton): In April, I applied to be on a committee for our City government dealing with bicycle and pedestrian trails. I interviewed with the Mayor and was appointed. This will be a four-year commitment. Hopefully, I can do some good in what is already a pretty good community for cyclists, walkers and hikers.

7. Global Bike to Work Day (strava.com): While the regional Bike to Work Day was on a Thursday, other organizations claimed either Tuesday or Friday. Strava is a website where cyclists, runners and other types of athletes log their activities and get kudos from their friends. Occasionally, they create challenges to motivate the users. One of these was Global Bike to Work Day. I clicked the icon to join the challenge and, since I rode on that particular day, I completed the challenge. Kudos for me.

According to Strava, I rode over 1,250 miles in the month of May.


NOTES:

"A brief history of National Bike Month", Dr. James Longhurst, University of Washington Press blog, May 14, 2015, https://uwpressblog.com/2015/05/14/a-brief-history-of-national-bike-month/  (Bicycle Institute of America)

"National Bike to Work Month– hatched 56 years ago this May,"   April 25, 2012, https://swanislandtma.wordpress.com/2012/04/25/national-bike-to-work-month-hatched-56-years-ago-this-may/  (Cycle Trade Association)

Calaveras, The Wall

https://www.strava.com/segments/619070

In cycling terms, when you are climbing a big hill and it suddenly gets very steep at the top, that’s often called “the wall.” I believe there are a few segments called “the wall” in the Bay Area. For me, “the wall” is the final section on Calaveras Road going east from Milpitas. It’s difficult and made more so by the effort reaching it from Piedmont. Someone had spray-painted “the wall” on the pavement near the start. It’s about all you see since you mostly look down at that point; it’s not the type of hill where you casually look around.

The Wall takes all of your focus.

But what if you did look around? What would you see? What would you have missed, even if you tried to take it all in? Well, let’s start at the bottom of the hill. Let’s start way back when all there was was the hill …just a gap between valleys.

How do we know it's us without our past? – John Steinbeck

We shall approach the hill from a distance – the long view, if you will. How did the road get there? Who put it there? Why is it called what it’s called, as well as the side streets and nearby points of interest? Like any good road, this one probably started out as an animal trail along a creek and then became a trail for the Native Americans living there.

Ohlone

Before European explorers, the area around Milpitas was inhabited by the Tamyen Ohlone tribe. There is evidence of their camps and burial grounds under the Calvary Assembly of God Church on Piedmont, just to the south of the intersection of Calaveras Blvd and Evans (dating back 3,000 years). I’m sure there is just a little irony there. There’s more under what is now Elmwood Correctional Facility on Abel Street (sidebar #1). You’ll also find Ohlone grinding holes in the rocks near the golf course off Downing (sidebar #2), where they would grind up acorns and other food. The Ohlone covered a vast territory, much further than just from Ohlone Community College in Fremont to Sunol-Ohlone Regional Park in Sunol. There are more grinding holes in Mount Diablo State Park. Certainly, they were the first ones to climb “the wall” – just not on a bike.

The Ohlone were hunter-gatherer types. They were not farmers. But once the Europeans arrived, they were converted – in more ways than one.

Rancho Milpitas

The European influx came with Spanish explorers of the De Anza expedition (Juan Bautista de Anza). My understanding is that the De Anza expedition was partly to defend the territory against the Russians. To the best of my knowledge, the Russian fur trappers did not venture this far south – just San Francisco – it’s too hot down here. The Spanish claimed this area for centuries, the local base being Mission San José de Guadalupe in what is now Fremont a few miles north. The land grants for what is now Milpitas were Rancho Rincon de Los Esteros (Spanish for "corner of the wetlands") granted to Ygnacio Alviso (the area near Alviso, now); Rancho Milpitas (Spanish for "place where maize grows," "little cornfields/gardens" or possibly "land of a thousand flowers") granted to José María Alviso which comprised most of the flatland portion of today’s city; Rancho Los Tularcitos (Spanish for "little tule marshes") granted to José Higuera, adjacent to Rancho Milpitas on the north side including our favorite hill; and also Rancho Agua Calient to Fulgencio Higuera (the Warm Springs area of Fremont). José Maria Alviso was a child with the De Anza Expedition. They were likely to have climbed “the wall” too. I’ll just guess that the Ohlone held the KOM; I suspect they were in better shape than the Spanish.

I've ridden up “the wall” over 100 times, mostly commuting home from my job in Milpitas. We usually approach it straight up from Calaveras Boulevard. Calaveras Blvd seems to line up with “Calaveras Road” on most old maps and establishes the boundary between Rancho Milpitas to the south side and Rancho Los Tularcitos to the north.

I love this particular map, below, because of the aerial perspective. However, it is frustrating because of the cursive hand-writing and general ambiguity. Nonetheless, you can make out three squares in the upper left. These are the adobes of the land grants associated with Milpitas today. The large building in the center is the pueblo of San Jose on the Guadalupe River.

For a zoomable version of this map, click (zoomable image)

Inset showing three adobes

The leftmost adobe is “casa de José Higuera”, in the middle is “casa de José M. Alviso” if you use your imagination, on the right is “casa de Nicolay Berrellesa”. (Berrellesa descended from the Basque region of Spain – interesting spelling on this map – his name translates to Nicolás Tolantino Antonio Berreyesa and he also claimed rights to Rancho Milpitas, but lost the dispute with Alviso. Berreyessa went insane and died in 1863.) On the hills above, you can make out Tularcitos. The arroyo running up the hill just left of casa Alviso would be Arroyo de los Coches, or Los Coches Creek. That is the creek that runs along Calaveras Road up to “the wall” today.

I believe the creek to the left of casa Berrellesa is Berryessa Creek which begins in the Los Buellis Hills near Felter Road but it might be Piedmond Creek. The area above it says “plan de las Calaberas” (plain, not valley?). To the right of casa Berrellesa (the Berryessa area today) is Arroyo de aguaje (or Aguage or Aguague, meaning spring or watering place) which is Upper Penitencia Creek today and you’ll recognize the name for the road which would lead you towards Mount Hamilton Road today. Penitencia was the name of an adobe house of worship, i.e., a place to give penance. It was something of a half-way house between Mission San Jose and Mission Santa Clara.

The city was almost named Penitencia, in fact. But it was feared that it might be misinterpreted as Penitentiary and so Milpitas was selected instead. There wasn't a vote or any debate as far as I could tell. The Assistant Postmaster, Joseph Weller, simply wrote the name onto the form in 1856. We will notice Weller Road later as we tour up to “the wall.”

Before the town of Milpitas was established, it was a misaligned intersection. I’m grateful for the habit of naming roads based on their endpoints. Alviso-Milpitas Road is now the section of 237 west of I-880 from Alviso to Milpitas – obviously – but has more recently been realigned to avoid Alviso (!). It intersected with Milpitas Road heading south (Main Street, today) which became Oakland Road heading north. A block north of that intersection, Calaveras Road headed east over the hills to Calaveras Valley (where the reservoir is today, formed by Calaveras Creek). Milpitas and Berryessa Road is now Capital Expressway, and goes to Berryessa – obviously.

The Guided Tour

Now that Milpitas exists, let’s start the tour.

The road is called Calaveras in the directional sense – it goes to Calaveras Valley. Calaveras Valley is named after the creek that now feeds Calaveras Reservoir. Not to be confused with Calaveras County, which is believed to have been named for the skeletons found along the river by the Spanish – calavera for “skull”. I am confident that the gold country county predates the naming of this creek, so it’s unclear to me if the creek is named after the county or not. The Milpitas Historical Society suggests that there were native skulls along the creek – perhaps to scare off competing tribes. Nonetheless, we call it Calaveras. Its formal beginning resulted from a February, 1855, petition presented to the Santa Clara County supervisors asking for a county road out of the hills and across the valley to Alviso, noting “more than 60 families” living in Calaveras Valley. Prior to the railroads, Alviso was the most important port in the South Bay but that’s another story.

Often, I am joined by fellow commuters who get there from other roads. This is not them, on the right. I have no idea if anyone ever rode a standard (penny-farthing) bike up to the wall but it wouldn't surprise me.

Courtesy California Historical Society.
“San Francisco Bicycle Club on San Leandro Road between San Leandro and Milpitas; H.A. Greene, Captain.” Undated.

If the increase continues, the time is not very distant when not to own and ride a bicycle will be a confession that one is not able-bodied, is exceptionally awkward, or is hopelessly belated. – “The Bicycle Festival,” July 13, 1895 New York Times

Evans/Piedmont

The dividing line between the valley and the hills is Evans/Piedmont. Evans Road is named for Josiah Evans, who owned a ranch that bordered the road before it was named for him. Evans came to Milpitas in 1853 from Ohio after a few years mining for gold, during which time he founded the Butte County city of Evansville which no longer exists. He bought 800 acres of Rancho Tularcitos land in 1853. Generations of his family also stayed in Milpitas.

Piedmont means “foot of the mountain” in Italian. I’m guessing that the name was already common in the area; specifically, the city of Piedmont near Oakland which I believe was named by James Gamble, the president of Western Union Telegraph in 1877. Once you cross this intersection, the climb begins immediately.

Today, there are a few houses at the base of the climb on your right. As you pass the last one, you can see the side of the Alviso Adobe (sidebar #3). Although buried underground today, the valley section of Calaveras Road used to run alongside Arroyo de los Coches, or Los Coches Creek – it means “creek of the wild pigs.” Once you commence climbing, it is visible on your right. For half the year, the creek is pretty much dried up. You can see the little canyon as you climb up the first part of Calaveras road to “the wall.” I’m generally more focused on the curb and staying close to it since traffic flies by rather closely up that part. There’s a remnant of pavement redirection and a chain-link fence across from the gravel pit section. I’m generally focused downward during this climb. On the flatter sections that follow, I have more willingness to look around. I've never seen any wild pigs or boar.

Downing Road/Laguna Valley

Once you get up and over the first steep section, “the first wall” on Strava, the road flattens slightly. It may not feel that way the first few times you ride, but it does. You are now approaching Laguna Valley. Laguna translates roughly to small lake. Laguna is marked on many old maps. Way off to your left, out of sight, is the Spring Valley Golf Course. There are two lakes back there and many natural springs. Spring Valley is an adequate translation of Laguna Valley. At one time, there was a plan to build a reservoir up there, but it was defeated. The marshes were tamed and the golf course was built. There is a sign for the golf course at Downing Road (sidebar #2, again) which goes north from Calaveras in a tight bend in the road. Traffic can be a little tricky there, especially when you are descending. The road gets a bit steeper in that corner. There’s not much shoulder and there are a couple little breaks in the pavement that make you want to ride further into the street.

To your left, before you see the porta-potties, is a flagpole. You really need to look backwards to see it. A century ago, that was the site of Airpoint School (sidebar #4). That school burned down and a new one was built in the 1960s about half a mile up the road, on your left. Today, Airpoint School is used by the Milpitas School District for special education.

Ed Levin Park

As you straighten out after the bend, you come along Ed Levin Park. Traffic has a better sight-line, so passing is easier and the road is mercifully flatter – you can shift up a gear or two. The water fountain in the park entrance is questionable. In 1964, more than 500-acres of the so-called Airpoint reservoir property were purchased by Santa Clara County. The Airpoint Park was renamed Ed R. Levin County Park in honor of the deceased county supervisor who canvassed door to door to make the purchase happen and it was dedicated in 1969. Ed was a boxer at one time in his youth, so I imagine the door-to-door canvassing was effective. Levin himself raised hack ponies and the house just beyond the main park entrance Ranger Station was once his home. Most of the park is to the north, extending all the way to Monument Peak and the hang-gliding area. The area alongside Calaveras is just the southern end of the park. Further to the south is more of Laguna Valley and a gated community where my old boss lives.

The road starts to get steep for a little while as you round the corner after the park entrance and the newer Airpoint School. There’s a washboard affect to the pavement where I generally shift back down or get out of the saddle. In the mid-1910s, construction began on the Calaveras Dam. To get the steam shovel into Calaveras Valley, they actually laid railroad tracks on Calaveras Road up this very hill. The road was still dirt at the time; in fact, it was about this time that Oakland Road (Main Street in Milptas) was paved from San Jose to the county line. As late as the 1930s, ranchers were still driving herds of cattle down this road to the depot on Main Street.

Laguna Cemetery

Since the turn is rather tight, traffic is sometimes surprised by struggling cyclists in this section. When you’re not looking out for cars, glance off to your right while you are still in the shade of the trees. Set back from the road is a wrought iron gate and fence, obviously fairly modern. The little cemetery on the hillside is Laguna Cemetery, a little two-acre plot shaded by oaks and laurels and a row of poplars planted many years ago. The first burials were in the 1860s. The last burial was in 1914 and for many years afterwards Weller Curtner paid the taxes on the little graveyard to preserve the last resting places of friends and neighbors of his grandparents.

A faded map of the cemetery, laid out in alleys and avenues running between grave plots, indicates most of the plots had been sold by 1867. Names on the map included Josiah Evans, J. H. Miller, C. Valpey, David Campbell, J. Weller, Felter and Pomeroy. The headstones, now gone (some disappeared, the rest stored for safe-keeping), told the sad story of death in childbirth, infants who succumbed to illnesses, and of men and women not yet old in years.

Weller Road

Soon on your left is Weller Road, an interesting side road which goes up behind the east side of Mount Allison, the highest of the three peaks (Mission, Allison, and Monument). Consider it a private road with people who value their privacy. The road is on most of the older maps I've found and serves mostly farmland which in ancient times belonged to Tamyen Ohlone tribe, and it eventually turns to dirt. If you ride up the hill you may notice stone walls around the ridges which you’ll also see if you hike up from Sandy Wool Lake. I’m told some of these walls were built by Chinese who came here after working on the transcontinental railroad, some were built by Amish, and others are very ancient.

Weller Curtner (descendant of J.R. Weller and Henry Curtner) recalled, “At the corner of Weller Road and Calaveras Road there was an Amish family by the name of Mathews and he had a blacksmith shop in there. He did the blacksmith work for the local men up there and his wife helped him. He’d beat a tattoo on the anvil and his wife would come out and strike it for him. Swing a 14 pound sledge like a man.”

For me, Weller Road marks the last relaxation point in the climb. It’s the last time to shift up again or spin easily before making the left turn at Felter Road and attacking “the wall.”

Laguna School

As you check behind and then look up Felter for traffic, you slowly make the left turn and see the writing on the road: “the wall.” But on the corner is a little old barn. Over the door it says “Laguna Ranch” but it used to be a one-room schoolhouse (Sidebar #5) – the last one-room schoolhouse in the county. The school was closed during World War II and is owned by Mr. Hare who lives in the adjacent home and plans to restore the school. Bill Hare is a music producer with two Grammy Awards. Didn't see that coming, did ya!

The Wall

By now you are tired. Both from reading this, and from the vicarious climb to this point. The road curves deliberately left and right and slightly left again to follow the easiest grade up to the top of the hill without much man-made change to the contour. What little has been done only serves to guide the rain to the sides - nothing that benefits a cyclist. Other than pavement.

Like a bucket of water dumped on the ground, you start out with plenty of power, pushing over obstacles with ease, then relax into a nice easy flow until you start to avoid small pebbles and seek out the path of least inclination until there's no power left but that of your own will.

I've seen many people walk their bikes up the wall. The Tour of California race brings professional cyclists up this hill. There are rattlesnakes and jackrabbits. People with really long telephoto lenses come up here to watch eagles. Cars scream by on weeknights on a white-knuckle, E-ticket commute home from Silicon Valley, unsympathetic to a 4mph cyclist's need to wander back and forth to keep his bike upright. Sweat blurs your glasses and your Garmin's display, which would mock you anyway. Tongues hang out. Heart rate monitors go off. Not much is said, or can be. Then you crest the hill, pull over into the shade by the driveway on your left as cows stare at you.

If you are good, you look back and wait for the bobbing helmet of your buddy to rise over the horizon. His face is down. He may angle his head a bit sideways to see you, unable to lift his head entirely up. Or else it's you, finishing the climb as others wait - now fully rested as if it were no big deal. Some don't even stop, just pedal onward, but it is still an accomplishment. Even after 100 times, it's still "the wall."

Sidebar #1: Elmwood

I've lived in Pleasanton and worked in Milpitas since 1995. I remember driving 237 when it still had intersections with stoplights, and I remember when there were no apartments next to Elmwood Correctional Facility or across the street.

Driving down Abel, there used to be two rows of Siberian Elm trees between Main Street and Abel that lead to the gates of the jail. Originally, John O’Toole planted them along his driveway to his 20-room Victorian mansion. It was sold to James Boyd in 1883, who then sold it to the county in 1884 for use as an almshouse – a home for the poor and sick. Eventually, the city housed a few low-risk prisoners there. And in 1962, the last eight elderly men were evicted, the mansion was demolished and it became a permanent prison.

Incidentally, when Milpitas wanted to incorporate as a city, they needed a population of 500 but only had 400 residents. The soon-to-be city asked if the Elmwood population could be counted as part of their population. The county said yes, and in 1954, Milpitas officially became a city. Oh, and it was no coincidence that Ford Motor Company had just committed to build an assembly plant there – San Jose was not happy.

In 1993, an ancient Ohlone cemetery was unearthed in an excavation at Elmwood. More than 60 graves were discovered, along with abundant beads, mortars and pestles. Apparently, that mound that made it a great location for a mansion was man-made.

Sidebar #2: Downing Road

In 1881, William F. Downing came to Milpitas from Nevada with his family. They bought land next to Evans’ ranch from Henry Curtner who also has a road named after him. This land was originally part of Rancho Tularcitos and Rancho Agua Caliente. Joseph Silva was one of the first to rent land from Downing and his descendents still live in the hills above Milpitas.
William F. Downing’s son, George Lucas Downing (no apparent relation to George Lucas of Star Wars fame), continued the tradition of tenant farming. He rented much of the land to an influx of Portuguese farmers from the Azores Islands. I’m still trying to figure out if the 1900s-era professional cyclist from San Jose, Hardy K. Downing, is related. Hardy K. Downing became a well-known boxing promoter with fighters such as Jack Dempsey.

Sidebar #3: Alviso Adobe

Each of these land grant holders built at least one large adobe home. At the base of the climb, at the intersection of Calaveras Blvd and Piedmont Ave. – adjacent to the Church – is a little cul de sac called Alviso Adobe Court. There is a city park built around the Alviso Adobe building. Until it was acquired by the city in 1995, it was the oldest continuously occupied adobe house in California. Even if you don’t visit it from the court, you can see it off to the right as you begin the climb up “the first wall” segment of Calaveras Road. That is, if you lift your head and look around instead of navigating the narrow space between the inexplicable curb and the racing traffic.

Sidebar #4: Airpoint School

In 1903, Airpoint School was built at the corner of Downing Road and Calaveras Road, so that children of the Downing and other nearby ranches would have a school within reasonable walking distance of their homes. George Lucas Downing was a long-time trustee of Airpoint School. So far, I have no idea why it was named Airpoint – it sounds so out of place. The local historian believes it was in response to the nation’s fascination with the Wright Brothers and the first flight which was also in 1903.

Sidebar #5: Laguna School

Laguna School was built in 1865. It served the children who lived in the farms further up Felter on Los Buellis Hills (Spanish for bulls or cattle, basically grazing land). Reportedly, the school was built for $600. That seems like a lot for those days and an 1866 San Jose Mercury report on financial condition showed Laguna School $3.89 in the red. Laguna was only in session six month as year. I’ll spare you the list of teachers over the years but the trustees included Alfred Felter (of Felter Road) and Michael Hughes, who had built the first wood frame house along Penitencia Creek in the area that became downtown Milpitas. The school rests on a foundation of large stones containing shell fossils, reminding you that this area was under the ocean at one time. In 1943, enrollment fell below the five pupil requirement and the school was closed. The school building was auctioned off to Mildred Bean for $575 in 1949.
(video of former student, John Covo's tour of the old Laguna Schoolhouse, 37 minutes)

NOTES

Details on the Alviso Adobe, http://www.milpitashistory.org/alviso/alviso.html

“Milpitas: A look back” http://www.mercurynews.com/wherewelive/ci_5171658Posted 2/13/2007 (originally published on Aug. 27, 2006), Mercury News archives; "Sunshine, Fruit & Flowers," a Mercury News publication; "Milpitas: Five Dynamic Decades," by Mort Levine, Tom Gilsenan and Rob Devincenzi, Milpitas Historical Society; and "Images of America: Milpitas," by Robert Burrill, Milpitas Historical Society

“Milpitas’ Top Stories over a 60 Year Span” By Milpitas Post Staff, http://www.mercurynews.com/milpitas/ci_27814500/milpitas-top-stories-over-60-year-span - compiled by Mort Levine, Robert J. Devincenzi, Ian Bauer, Aliyah Mohammed and Julian J. Ramos

http://web.stanford.edu/group/cycling/routes/
“Santa Clara County – Early History” http://www.nps.gov/nr/travel/santaclara/history.htm
http://www.sccgov.org/SCC/docs%2FParks%20and%20Recreation,%20Department%20of%20(DEP)%2Fattachments%2F644507Levin%20Brochure.pdf
"Images of America: Milpitas," by Robert Burrill, Milpitas Historical Society

“Milpitas : the century of "little cornfields," 1852-1952” by Patricia Loomis, California History Center, 1986

My Head's in Mississippi

I planned this trip months ago. When the Heart Across America crew first announced their cross-country bike route, I knew I wanted to ride somehow. One of my commute buddies, Greg, mentioned they would be riding a road in the southeast that is special for cyclists. I looked it up and immediately knew I wanted to ride it: the Natchez Trace Parkway.

It helped that it wasn't too far from my parents' house. And it was even better that they would come through on Mother's Day. So that's the plan: Mother's Day in Mississippi, then ride the Trace with the Heart Across America.

Planes, Trains and Automobiles

It was 49 degrees when I woke up. Cold. In a few days I'll be longing for cool temps and low humidity. I had disassembled my bike and packed it the night before. My wife drove me to the BART station. The train took me to Oakland and a shuttle conveniently to OAK airport. Bike checked, tall Americano and I'm waiting to board.

I'm not one to talk to strangers, but I was compelled by the guy across from me. We exchanged small talk about West Coast Conference basketball and intern opportunities for psych majors. He was Marley Biyondolo, sophomore guard for Pepperdine University. He's from Australia. Nice kid.

Tracing to the Trace

In March, the Heart Across America crew left from Palo Alto, CA. Many of my friends joined Sean Maloney to kick off this great event. The camaraderie was fantastic, the scenery was awe inspiring and the optimism was high. I rode for a few days and then turned for home while a smaller group headed down the coast for San Diego. My flight from Oakland connects in San Diego.

From there, my flight takes me over the path they took in April. When I booked the trip, I was confident that they would stay on schedule. The schedule is in tact, but it's nothing like what anyone imagined. It's not an easy ride but no one expected tradegy. Read Dave's blog.

Smell the Humidity

Touch down in New Orleans, pick up my bike and now it's off to Gulfport to see my mom and dad for a few days.

It's late, so I grab some fried pickles and margarita pizza at Chili's. I order a Samuel Adams and they bring me two ...it's happy hour.  I stare at Strava for awhile to pick a route for the morning.  The Best Western has clean towels, comfortable beds and free wi-fi. And an in-room coffee maker.

5:15am, the alarm goes off. Need to roll before dawn to beat the heat. Except near the highway, there's not much traffic. Several dogs were up, though, and they wanted to chase. Within half an hour the humidity fogged my glasses! I managed to stay on course, not get lost and make it back in time for the free breakfast. And I was awarded with a KOM somehow. Okay, there were only seven riders on that segment's all-time list but still - a KOM is a KOM.

It was nice to visit with my parents again. It's been too long. I spent several days riding at dawn (top 10s, but no more KOMs), visiting, slowing down, nearly off the grid, going to bed early.

Clever Insights

I'll spare you the family minutia and offer my thoughts on riding in Mississippi. No one else was out riding, as far as I could see. Forensic Strava data shows they're here, but not many of them. Most seem to be triathletes and many segments were TT loops. Strava needs a sprinter award because "KOM" implies a mountain or at least a hill. Not here. There was an occasional depression near a bayou or creek and a fractional-percentage climb afterwards. 100 feet of climbing per 10 miles is typical - no way to hit the 100 feet per mile metric we seek back home.

There's hardly any shoulder, but drivers gave me the whole lane when passing. Some just trailed me for miles until they could pass. Either they were in no hurry (highly likely) or my high-viz kit created a spectacle (equally likely). Given the TT segments, I pushed a big gear all the time. Not much free-wheeling. The strangest thing was the cloudy glasses. It was so humid that they fogged up and wouldn't clear. I'm sure that my aero tuck was negated by the glasses halfway down my nose ...gramps can't see. Which also meant that I nearly had to stop to read street signs. Probably cost me another KOM (kidding).

No gators. Don't laugh! The aforementioned dog chases were my biggest concern. For those of you keeping score, there were more opossum than armadillo carcasses. No snakes (they have poisonous water snakes here).  Jim Stafford sang, "Black water Hattie lived back in the swamps where the strange green reptiles crawl, snakes hang thick off cypress trees like sausage on a smokehouse wall." Over and over in my head. The downside of solo cycling - song lyrics on endless loop.

Plot Twist

Finally, I had a cyclist sighting. Saturday at breakfast, after my ride, after my shower. By the way, hotel breakfast buffet consists of cheesy scrambled eggs, biscuits, gravy, sausage and mini cinnamon rolls. A few of the people were super thin, the rest took multiple plates if you know what I mean. Back to my cyclists. Full baby blue TREK kits; not the lean muscular types. From across the room I could detect an accent (anyone seen "Legally Blonde - the Musical? ...gay or European?). I interrupted them. Sweden! Riding cross-country from San Diego to Florida, a few more days to go. Cool. I shared my Natchez Trace plan and the shortest version of the Heart Across America story. Ya, good.

Cliche, perhaps, but I did laundry at my parents' house. Now it's time to go to Natchez.

Lean Legs & Ham – by the Numbers

I’m fond of saying “there’s always somebody crazier.” By pedestrian standards, I ride a lot of miles on my bike. By randonneur standards, I don’t ride very long distances. I've gained a fondness for 200km rides (about 125 miles) because I can complete it in the daylight hours. Randonneurs knock out 200km rides on the ladder up to 1200km rides which span four days. I’m not that crazy yet.

Saturday, I rode a specific 200km route called “Lean Legs and Ham”. The route owner is a woman named Kitty. She plotted it out years ago and submitted the details to the national randonneur organization (RUSA) and is responsible for verifying that I actually did it. There is some importance to this, but I won’t bore you with it.

The first time I saw the route online, I thought that I would never do this particular one. Too much climbing. Roughly 11,000 feet. It’s hard enough for me to do 125 miles and climb 5,000 feet total. This seemed ridiculous. But as with mountain climbers, I’ll do it because it’s there. Game on!

Preparation

I ride far enough and often enough that I felt prepared for this massive undertaking. The actual training plan involved riding slightly less distance and with less intensity than normal for the few days prior to that particular Saturday. I planned out my wardrobe so that I had my favorite cycling kit to survive a 12-hour day in the saddle, if you know what I mean. I went to bed at a reasonable time the night before. And, I made sure I had appropriate cycling foods to carry.

More effort was spent working out the logistics with my friends who intended to join part or all of the ride.

The Route

The route includes most of the challenging hills in the East Bay where I usually ride. I’ve ridden them all before. They all have an easy side and a difficult side. It happens that if you do the loop clockwise, you hit almost all of the difficult sides. I opted to go counter-clockwise. Maybe some other day. So this was considered “the easy way” to do Lean Legs and Ham. There’s always someone crazier.

The Verdict

Since I had done all of these climbs before, separately, I had a certain comfort level with them. It helps to remember the climb so you know how much effort is involved under normal situations. So metering out the effort evenly was important, and for me, successful. I had good energy throughout. I had my time in front of my buddies, my time in the draft and no major suffering. I had no intention of setting a quick pace, merely surviving without pain.

Oh sure, there were times when I thought I had burned too many matches and would be dragging the last twenty miles. But frankly, the biggest risk assessment involved a pint of beer at the Junction. It was definitely worth it in the moment. It dehydrated me, but I recovered well. Heretic Shallow Grave - sounded appropriate.

Events such as these fall in the delayed gratification category. You do it so you can say you did it, not because it’s 12 hours of laugh riot. There are a few moments of macho endorphin rush during a climb, or the thrill of descending through hairpin turns. But there are too many more monotonous hours on flat roads into a headwind. I was plenty stiff and sore that evening and the next day, but overall I felt really proud of the accomplishment.

The Numbers

• 142.2 miles overall, which includes home to/from the start; 125.6 miles for the ride itself.
• 11,946 feet of elevation (my Garmin), which includes the negligible amount to/from home. The average from a sampling of my riding buddies: 11,865 feet. Ride with GPS: 10,851 feet.
• Moving Time: 9:40:04, total elapsed time 12:49:20.
• Watts per kilogram:

• Calories expended: 5,312
• Calories consumed: 2,270 (and probably something in excess of 5,500 afterwards - pizza; thank you!), gained two pounds. Two untapped (100 each), one Clif shot (100), two Clif bars (250 each), one fig bar (150), one peanut butter sandwich (300), veggie burger (500), sweet potato fries (150), Shallow Grave (210), two Skratch Labs (80 each).
• Strava “Epic” suffer score of 271, with 55 points in the red.
• Strava silliness: 33 kudos, 102 achievements including one suspect “2015 KOM”

The Surprises

• That I estimated our arrival time at the first stop at the Sunol train station within 70 seconds.
• That I missed my estimated arrival time at the second stop at the base of Mount Hamilton Road by two hours.
• That I spotted, recognized and had the chance to talk to Kitty on top of Mount Hamilton.
• That the core group didn't finish together. (I feel bad about leaving those to finished behind me; we soft-pedaled but were too cold and tired to stop and wait.)

Regrets

• I've had a few, but then again too few to mention.

The Conclusion

It's better to ride with a group of friends, which I did. The day was perfect, weather-wise. It was early enough in the year for everything to still be green - just beautiful. It was late enough in the year for sufficient daylight and reasonably warm temperatures - but not hot. Even though it was more distance than I had ever ridden in one day, and more climbing than I had ever done in one day, it wasn't too much. It was tough, tough enough to feel like it was hard work. I'll do it clockwise at some point. I'd say it was just right for today.  

Someday I'll be crazier.

Lean Legs and Ham, by Dr. Randonneuss

I am not Sam

But Randonneur I am

That Rand-o-man

That Rand-o-man!

I do not like

that Rand-o-man

Do you like

lean legs and ham?

Will you climb

Mount Hamilton?

I do not like them,

Rand-o-man.

I do not like

lean legs and ham.

I will not climb

Mount Hamilton.

Would you climb

up Palomares?

I would not climb

up Palomares.

I would not climb

up Calaveras.

I do not like

lean legs and ham.

I do not like them,

Rand-o-man

Would you brave

the Canyon Niles?

Would you ride

so many miles?

I do not like

the Canyon Niles.

I do not like

so many miles.

I do not like them

up Palomares.

I do not like them

anywhere.

I do not like lean legs and ham.

I do not like them, Rand-o-man.

Would you climb that

big old mountain?

Would you seek that

one lone fountain?

Not that big old mountain.

Not that one lone fountain.

Not on the Canyon Niles.

Not for so many miles.

I would not climb up Palomares.

I would not climb up anywhere.

I would not climb lean legs and ham.

I do not like them, Rand-o-man.

Would you? Could you?

on a fixed gear?

Climb that! Climb that!

With your pannier.

I would not,

could not,

on a fixed gear.

You may like them.

You will see.

You may like them

on a bike of steel?

I would not on a bike of steel.

I would not, could not on a bike of steel.

Not on a fixed gear! You let me be.

I do not like that big old mountain.

I do not like that ice cold fountain

I do not like the Canyon Niles

I do not like so many miles

I do not like it up Palomares.

I do not like to climb anywhere.

I do not like lean legs and ham.

I do not like them, Rand-o-man.

Up Sierra! Up the wall!

Up Sierra! Up the wall!

Could you, would you

climb them all?

Not this perm! Not a bike of steel!

Not on a fixie! Rando, let me be!

I would not, could not, top that mountain.

I could not, would not, to that fountain.

I will not brave that Canyon Niles

I will not ride so many miles.

I will not climb that steep Sierra.

I will not endure that Palomares.

I do not like them, Rand-o-man.

Say!

In the wind?

Here in the wind!

Would you, could you, in the wind?

I would not, could not,

in the wind.

Would you, could you,

in the rain?

I would not, could not, in the rain.

Not in the wind. Not without pain,

Not on a fixie, Not on a bike of steel.

I do not like that, Rand, you see.

Not Mines. Not past the Junction.

Not up Mount Ham. Not to that fountain.

I will not climb Palomares.

I do not like climbing anywhere!

You do not like

lean legs and ham?

I do not

like them,

Rand-o-man.

Could you, would you,

without java?

I would not,

could not.

without java!

Would you, could you,

post on Strava?

I could not, would not, post on Strava.

I will not, will not, without java.

I will not climb that in the rain.

I will not climb that without pain.

Not in the wind! Not on a bike of steel!

Not on a fixie! You let me be!

I do not like that big old mountain.

I do not like that one lone fountain.

I do not like that Canyon Niles..

I do not like so many miles.

I do not like that Palomares.

I do not like that ANYWHERE!

I do not like

lean legs and ham!

I do not like them,

Rand-o-man.

You do not like them.

So you say.

Try them! Try them!

And you may.

Try them and you may say.

Rand!

If you will let me be,

I will try them.

You will see.

[12 hours later]

Say!

I like lean legs and ham!

I do!! I like them, Rand-o-man!

And I would put that climb on Strava!

And I would climb that without java

And I will climb that in the rain.

And over Mines. Despite the pain.

But a bike of carbon, not one of steel.

They are so good, so many gears!

So I will climb that big old mountain.

And I will climb up to that fountain.

And I will eat lunch at the Junction.

And I will ride so many miles.

And I will laugh at Palomares.

Say! I will ride but in REVERSE!

I do so like

lean legs and ham!

Thank you!

Thank you,

Rand-o-man

With sincere apologies to Dr. Seuss.