Monday, September 10, 2012

MCBC Mount Tam Dirt Fondo


That was the goal ... the top of Mount Tam

Does anyone know an attorney that specializes in Constitutional Law … specifically the Eighth Amendment?  After yesterday’s Mt. Tam Dirt Fondo, I am convinced that the Marin County Bike Coalition is guilty of practicing Cruel and Unusual Punishment on its members.
I love the long, early morning shadows.  Evidence that I wake up before noon on the weekends.

When I saw the advertisement for the Dirt Fondo, I thought it would be a great way to get to know Tam, riding predominantly fire roads over the southern section of the mountain.  My usual mountain bike courses are on the northern side, between Fairfax and Mill Valley.  And the 46 mile, 7,000 foot course seemed manageable given my recent century rides, 126 miler to Aptos and the Tioga Pass.  Sign me up.  And who wants to ride with me, right?!?
Climbing Miwok, view to Pacific Ocean

As I have mentioned in the past, I am not much of a mountain biker.  I tend to crash at high speeds and teeter over at low ones.  The act of riding a bike when either a) the road washes out from below you or b) balancing while moving at less than 2 miles per hour are both challenging.  Furthermore, I have the gift of massive torque and power which, on a gravel trail, is counterproductive.  Unlike on a road bike where I can stand up and hammer through an uphill section, on a mountain bike, every time I stand up to pedal hard, the rear wheel just spins out and I fall on my face.  With all this in mind, I resolved to ride the Fondo in granny gear the whole day, just spinning my way to the top.  And on the downhills, I would take it super easy, making life miserable for anyone unfortunate enough to be stuck behind me.
Evidence that I actually did ride with Britt and Bryan for at least part of the ride

My two buddies, Britt and Bryan, joined me for the ride.  Britt and Bryan are both stronger climbers than I am (weigh 50 pounds less than I do) but I was able to keep up with them for the first two climbs.  I was pushing myself a little harder than I should have been to start such a long day, but I was pleased to be climbing with them only about 30 seconds behind.  At the mile nine mark, after about an hour of climbing, we hit the top of the ridge.  I had been staring at my front wheel and the two feet in front of it for probably ten minutes, happily ignoring everything else and enjoying my pain-place.  As the grade lessened, I looked up to see that there was a huge crowd of guys stopping at the top to catch their breath before the descent.  Unfortunately, my coordination was a lacking and I hit both the front and rear brakes a bit too hard.  At two miles an hour, I did a full endo and landed on my face to an appreciative audience.  I bounced back up immediately and gave a thumbs-up to a thunderous applause.  


Muir Woods.  Relief from the sun
Seeing my performance, Bryan and Britt just shook their heads and bombed down the hill.  As I got back on my bike, there was something obviously wrong with the front wheel.  It had somehow bent into the shape of a crescent moon, with the tire hitting the fork in two places as the wheel rotated.  Uh oh, big trouble.  I pulled out my trusty spoke wrench and started working on the tire.  But this was no ordinary wheel-truing session.  This was a Grade-A taco job.  After about ten minutes, the SAG wagon arrived - a Sunshine Bikes mechanic who was cruising the course helping suckers like me in need – and he got down to business.  The attached video is a small snippet of the job.  But you know you are in trouble when a mechanic says, “Oh, you are screwed.  You need a new wheel.  This is not going to come out, not even in a shop.  Let me see if I can get that into a shape where you can at least finish the ride”.  Needless to say, this was an ominous start to the day.  We are less than a quarter of the way into the ride and my bike was tweaked.  After about 20 minutes, he was able to get me riding again, but the front wheel wobble was bothersome at best for the remainder of the day.

As I descended to the rest stop, I was wondering what Bryan and Britt were thinking.  I had sent them a text to let them know about my troubles.  But the cell reception of Tam is non-existent, so they had no clue what was going on.  When I finally got to the bottom, the quote from Britt was hilarious.  “Dude, what happened?  I thought you might have had some trouble negotiating the switchbacks.  But we passed a runner when we came down the hill.  And when she beat you down, I knew something was wrong.”  Yeah, it took me twenty extra minutes to navigate 5 switchbacks on a descent that took everyone else 4 minutes.  Hilarious.

The next climb was the monster – a 7 mile, 2,500 foot climb up to the East Peak of Tam.  I knew there was this thing called Cardiac Hill somewhere along the way, but I didn’t think it would take me two hours to do the whole thing.  The trail was amazing.  It wound through huge redwood trees and little streams.  The Dipsea Trail (which is a running trail) crossed this climb in several spots.  I laughed as I continued up a straight line as the same woman was kept crossing in front of me on her run up the same hill.  I got dropped by Bryan and Britt early on and just happily suffered in granny gear the whole way.  I wish I would have been in a better place to have been able to take more pictures.  But, unlike on a road bike, it is really hard to take pictures with one hand while maintain the line with the other.  Not to mention the rubbing sounds coming from my front wheel, this climb was a bitch. And to top it all off, the pain-mantra was exacerbated by the Katie Perry song that played over-and-over-and-over in my head.  Not sure where this one came from.  But it got the job done.  When we reached Eldridge Grade at the top of Tam, we took the optional route to the parking lot to add and extra 100 feet of climbing.  God, I love Mount Tam.

Not sure where this is ... I was delirious by this point
The Eldridge descent was fun and I had never done the climb up Hoo-Koo-E-Koo.  After that descent to the final rest stop, my brain was basically mush.  My hamstrings were throbbing and, frankly, my butt was killing me.  Again, on the road bike, I can stand up and pedal for long stretches.  This helps my back and  my butt just by breaking up the ride.  The monotony of sitting and pedaling for hours is truly abusive. 
I hooked back up with the boys and they tried to prepare me for the next climb, Green Gulch.  It sounded pretty enough as it ran through some sort of Zen Center.  Well let me tell you, there was no Zen involved in this route.  This puppy was an 800 foot climb in less than 2 miles, averaging 9% grade with much of it being north of 20%.  To top it all off, the path was newly constructed with major sections of six-inch deep gravel.  This was a surefire recipe for disaster for this FatGuy.  I never actually fell, but I had to clip out multiple times to catch myself.  The traction was simply non-existent with my 300 pounds sinking into the gravel, trying to maintain 3 miles per hour.  And once the momentum was lost, I had to walk the bike to get to a ‘flat’ part just to get the bike started again.  The only saving grace was that there were other people struggling the same way, walking their bikes just as I was.

This woman has evidently found serenity in her cycling.  While this FatGuy was panting, devouring PB&J, and guzzling water, she took the tim eto soak in the sun and meditate.  She is my hero.
I rolled down Green Gulch, back down to the Tennessee valley Trailhead.  I knew that Tennessee Valley was in Mill Valley and there was a big hill between MV and Rodeo Beach where the car was parked.  At one point, I actually thought (prayed) that I was lost and I would have to take the roads back to Rodeo.  Or better yet, I would ride the streets to somewhere where Bryan and Britt could drive to pick me up.  But I caught a trail marker out of the corner of my eye and headed back up the Miwok Trail … shocker, another 800 feet of climbing.  On the descent to Rodeo Beach, I was just praying that Bryan and Britt would be at my car already.  I did not give a rip about the post-rode BBQ or the beer.  I just wanted to throw my bike in the Pacific Ocean and get home to a bath.  But, upon arriving at the car, there was no one to be seen.  Adding insult to injury, I had to ride the final mile and other 250 feet on the paved roads up to the YMCA for the BBQ.  Finding the guys up there, it was a quick celebration of burnt burgers, sloppy mayonnaise with a side of noodles that they claimed was macaroni salad and a really great IPA.  As amazing as that beer tasted, I couldn’t stomach another and, with a few high-fives to some buddies, we were out of there within 15 minutes.

A surprise Klimo signting.  Scott make the trek down from Washington State to ride the Fondo.  I think he passed me twoce going up hills and once going down.  I am not sure how that happened, logistically, but he is one hell of a mountain biker.
All in all, it was an amazing day. MCBC did an outstanding job of coordinating several jurisdictions (State, Federal, County, etc) to allow for such an epic ride.  The other star of the day was Mount Tamalpais itself.  The mountain is unparalleled with its ocean and valley views, sun and shade, redwood trees, flora and fauna alike.  Every single trail was well groomed and it is obvious that MCBC has a lot to do with the maintenance of this mountain.  If I had any recommendations to other beginning riders, it would be that 46 miles on Tam is not a good idea.  There was no single trail that was insurmountable, but the cumulative effect was a shocker.  My 126 mile road ride to Aptos was half the ride compared to this ‘little’ 46 miler.  I am happy that I made the journey, but there is no fu$%ing way that I would attempt the same course ever again.  Parts of it, yes.  But the whole enchilada … no freaking way.

The aftermath. And, surprisingly, no blood. 
In looking at the Strava data, I was not the slowest rider, not even close.  I finished in 6 hours and 3 minutes of riding time.  As of the time of this posting, of the 50 people that recorded their data, I finished 45th out of 50.  But there were two guys under 4 hours and six guys under 5 hours.  Those times are truly amazing.  A super effort and obviously these guys had something to prove.  And, as far as I am concerned, they proved their point.

Happy riding and I’m sticking to the paved stuff.  Once a month up Eldridge is enough for this FatGuy.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

What next?


In January of this year, I created the goal in my mind to ride 5,000 miles for the year.  The number was completely random, but made sense to me as a) high and b) reasonably achievable.  I figured that I could ride 100 miles each week taking into account the rainy season and days that I don't work, adding in a few centuries and such along way.

Long story short, I crossed the 5,000 mile barrier last week, a full four months earlier than expected.  I am not sure whether to readjust the goal or just reassess in December for a more lofty goal for 2013.

Statistics as of this morning are as follows:

Year-to-Date
Distance 5,128.6mi
Time 354hr 46m
Elev Gain 244,751ft
Rides 292

Doing a little math, I am averaging about 14.5 miles per hour overall, which makes some sense.  6 MPH up hills, 30 MPH down and 15 MPH in the flats.  I can always push faster, but that is a pretty casual pace.  My average ride is about 17.5 miles - the full commute to work is just over 21 miles, but the ferry commute home is shy of 6 miles.  So, again, averaging 13.5 miles per ride per commute day and throwing in a few long rides gets me there.

Much love to my riding partners and the great friends that I have met on the roads in the last few years.  You know who you are, and many of you have graced the text of this blog.  But to name a few - HST Johnny, StravaMo and Bryan, Scotty and all the Schmidt Raiders and The Muy Buenos Dias Crew.

Here's to 7,500 in 2013?!?



Monday, August 27, 2012

Replacement Frame Update

As of last Friday, the guys at bikesdirect.com seemed to be on top of the warranty replacement for the Moto frame.  The warranty does not, however, cover labor, shipping or handling.  So to get the new frame, I have to strip the old frame, box it up, ship it to Texas for inspection and pay for shipping of the new frame back to me.  Not great, but better than buying a new frame ... so I thought.

I went to the bike shop and got an old bike box.  That saved me $45 for the knuckleheads at the shipping joint from building a box for me.  With the lightweight bike frame, I was expecting a few bucks, but anything over $50 was too much for this FatGuy, especially because I had to pay shipping both ways.  It seems, however, that shipping now charges by both weight and another new, communist measure called dimensional weight.  This is a way for the shippers to charge crazy prices for large boxes, regardless of what is in them

From wikipedia:  Dimensional weight is a calculation of a theoretical weight of a package. This theoretical weight is the weight of the package at a minimum density chosen by the freight carrier. If the package is below this minimum density, then the actual weight is irrelevant as the freight carrier will charge for the volume of the package as if it were of the chosen density (what the package would weigh at the minimum density). Furthermore, the volume used to calculate the Dimensional Weight may not be absolutely representative of the true volume of the package. The freight carrier will measure the longest dimension in each of the three axis (X,Y,Z) and use these measurements to determine the package volume. 

In other words, to ship a big box of feathers now costs the same as shipping a big box of bricks, so long as the bricks weigh less than this theoretical 'chosen density' specified by the shipper.  If teh 'chosen density' is lower than my bricks,. then they can use the actual weight, which is even more profitable.

This applied to my bike as it weighed only 22 pounds in the box with packaging, but due to the size of the box, the dimensional weight was north of 90 pounds.  $130 in shipping, one way.  Actually, no fu&*ing way was I shipping this frame back.  $260 is shipping to get a 'free' replacement bike?

Email has been sent to bikesdirect.com for an alternative.  Stay tuned.

Thursday, August 23, 2012

The Wheel Destroyer Does it Again


Lets review my commute bikes and purchases:

On December 27, 2009, I dusted off my 15-year-old Craigslist Trek Mountain Bike and rode it to work for the first time.  I told myself that if I rode twice a week, every week, in January, February and March, I would buy a ‘real’ bike. 

Succeeding in my challenge, I was shocked at how much these machines actually cost.  And anyone who knows me knows that I have a tendency to, shall we say, cut corners when it comes to paying full retail.  I stumbled across bikesdirect.com and was seduced by the slashed prices.  In March 2010, I spent a whopping $550 and ended up with the Motobecane Fantom Cross.  A cheap Chinese/French all purpose bike with a Tiagra triple and crap components.  But it was a great bike to learn what I liked and didn’t like, needed and didn’t need, on ‘real bike’.

After 18 months, I had completely destroyed this bike.  I went through the original wheels, breaking a spoke once-a-month for the first few months, then once-a-week by month 12.  I had a great 36 spoke DT Swiss touring rear wheel built and bought a used Mavic Ksyrium front wheel on a day that I needed a replacement after a commute.  The front derailleur was stuck in the middle gear, so I was basically riding a 9 speed.  If I was lucky enough to get the bike to shift, I lost the chain either into the bottom bracket or over the top and completely off.  It was time for an upgrade.

This time, my requirements were 105 or better components and a full carbon bike.  After significant negotiation, in August 2011, I ended up with A Performance Bikes special – a Scattante road bike retailing for $2699, paying just over $1,ooo.  This was the nicest bike I had ever sat on.  The shifting was like butter, the fit was perfect and it weighed what felt like nothing.  Again, I destroyed the fancy race wheels that the bike came with.  But I put the DT Swiss and Mavic on this bike and I was good to go.

As detailed in my May 2012 posts, the Scattante met an untimely death on Camino Alto with snapped chain stay.  Performance hooked me up with a new Fuji carbon frame and it has smooth sailing ever since.
Heading into the rainy season, I decided to prep the old Motobecane with all new components, fenders and 28mm tires for the ultimate commuting machine.  My pal Tom donated a lightly used SRAM Force gruppo and I dropped the bike and parts off at the shop prior to my Yosemite trip.  The shop called today to tell me that I should come pick up my bike.  Note that ‘pick up’ does not necessarily mean that the bike was done or ready to ride.  It seems that this FatGuy did a little damage to the frame of the Moto.  Chalk it up to my massive torque, or just crappy welds, but I cracked another frame.  This time the down tube where it meets the bottom bracket.

I have emails and pictures into bikesdirect.com who confirmed the 10 year warranty on all Motobecane frames.  We shall see how this one turns out.  ButI am expecting a new frame at a minimum.  Stay tuned.

Anyone want to put an over under on the date of destruction for the Fuji frame?!?


Monday, August 20, 2012

Tioga Pass and the Yosemite Valley


Long, lonely shadow.  Time to do some rock climbing.
Amy and the kids were out of town at the end of last week.  On Wednesday morning, the morning of their departure, I got a random phone call from Amy’s grandmother just to say ‘hi’.  With little plans for the coming days, I suggested that I go visit her for the weekend at her home in Lee Vining.  She was happy to have me and I was hyped for the weekend of mountain air, no cell phone reception and adventure.  Lee Vining is basically 250 miles due east of San Francisco, through Yosemite, on Mono Lake.  

Tuolomne Meadows
I left work on Thursday afternoon and made pretty good time.  Driving through Yosemite, I was blown away by the beauty and the scale of the Yosemite Valley.  I realized that I probably had not been to Yosemite in my adult life, most likely since a 4th or 5th grade camping trip.


After a solid nights sleep, I woke up early on Friday morning, packed my backpack with food, tubes, CO2 and lots of water.  I was on the bike by 6.15am with little plan other than to make it up the Tioga Pass.  The first thing that I noticed, even before the ride got going, was that my heart was beating out of my chest.  I don’t know if it was my nerves or the elevation, but my heart rate in the parking lot was north of 140, where I can typically get to work on a casual commute sub 130.  An ominous start. 


I headed up the hill not knowing exactly how long the climb might take.  All I knew was that I had the longest climb of my life - 3,000 feet and 12 miles - ahead of me.  I settled into low gear and tried not to work too hard.   Moreover, I wanted to get my heart rate back into check and not blow my load in the first few miles.  I snapped a few pictures and took deep breaths.  With each crank of the pedals, I was doing math in my head.  Twelve miles at eight miles per hour was an hour and a half, ninety minutes.  Perfect.  The grade was a steady six percent and my MPH were steady.  All of a sudden, the grade increased and the MPH dropped accordingly.  More math.  Seven percent grade, 16 percent steeper, MPH down from eight to seven or six.  Another increase in pitch, the MPH dropped again.  The next thing I knew, I was struggling to keep the MPH above five.  Four point something.  Yikes, 12 miles a four miles per hour.  Could I really be climbing for three hours?!? 

The road turned a bit to the left and I looked over my shoulder.  It was at that point that I noticed the valley beneath me that I had already climbed.  I couldn’t see the top yet.  But the view to the bottom was breathless.  My four-something MPH pace felt comfortable and I kept chugging along.  I should mention that I started the ride at about 6,500 feet and I had seen a picture of the Tioga Gate reading 9,900-some-odd feet.  Rather than focus on speed or time, I figured I should just look at my altimeter.  One revolution of the pedals equaled about two feet of climb.  So I just counted my strokes and the altitude cranked by – 7,100 feet, 7,200 feet, 7,300 feet.  As I was expecting to see my meter get to 7,500 feet, I noticed the sign on the side of the road.  It read “Elevation 8,000 feet”.  Wait, what?  My meter read 500-600 feet LOWER than the sign.  I was closer to the top than I had thought.  More math.


I flipped my Garmin screen to a pre-programmed screen to only see two data points - my heart rate and the elevation.  I consciously chose to avoid my speed, the time of day or total time ridden.  I threw the math out the window and just tried to enjoy the ride.  This helped a bunch and I further settled in to the pain.  Just keep pedaling, knock off the elevation foot by foot, take deep breaths, enjoy the scenery  and keep my heart rate as low as possible.  I reached the “Elevation 9,000 feet” marker on the hill and compared it to my Garmin at 8,700 feet.  Crap, it was equalizing.  I don’t understand the technology.  But I don’t need to be a rocket scientist to calculate that something didn’t jive with the data.  I trusted the sign and felt comfort knowing that I had less than 1,000 feet to go.  


Was I an hour into my ride?  Two hours?  I had no clue.  Keep pedaling.  Some orange road signs appeared noting some road work ahead.  I recalled from the drive in that the road reduced to one lane as they were working on a bridge.  I approached the construction woman with the two-sided sign – SLOW and STOP.  She graced me with the stop sign and I got to catch my breath.  After a couple of minutes of small talk, she prodded me to go forward and I went on my way.  I reached the guy on the opposite side of the sign team and he quipped, “Do you think you will get to the peak before dark?”  I smiled but thought to myself, “Man, that was just plain cold.”  

Ellery Lake, just west of the Tioga Pass.  A mile or less to go.
All of a sudden, the road turned to the right and started to flatten out.  Was it possible?  I was almost to the top.  I passed a few resorts and hotels, a big lake, and there it was - the ranger station at the peak.  I slowed to a stop, parked the bike against the station, nodded to the ranger and took a final deep breath.  I finished my water bottles (I drank 48 ounces total on the climb), pulled out my breakfast burrito, snapped a few pictures and forced myself to keep eating.  I finally checked my Garmin and the stats read something like 3,100 feet of climbing, 2 hours 15 minutes, 13 miles.  Ouch.  But I also realized that I was “done” and it was only 8.30am.  No way I could call it a day at this juncture.  I kept eating, filled up my water bottles and prepared to keep going – no clue where I was heading, but it certainly wasn’t back down that hill.


The rest of the ride was basically a blur.  You would have thought that after reaching the peak at 9,900 feet of elevation, the only thing left for the day would be to descend.  Well, boy, was I wrong.  I was in no rush and I was constantly taking pictures, but it seemed like the whole ride was uphill.  I kept heading west with the goal of reaching Cedar Flats, the western gate to Yosemite.  The hard part was that the ups and downs were so severe.  I would do a few hundred feet of climbing at five MPH, taking 20-30 minutes, then I would bomb down a hill at 35+ MPH (sub two-minute miles) for a few minutes/miles.  The thing is, a descent at those speeds passes really quickly, and then the climbs pass that much more slowly.  There wasn’t enough time in the descents to rest before the next climb approached.

Upon reaching Cedar Flats, I looked around for the bus schedule.  My plan was to take the bus back to Lee Vining.  Unfortunately, it was 11.30ish when I got to the bus stop and the next bus was not scheduled until 5.30pm.  What to do?  If I waited for the bus, I would not be back to Lee Vining until 7.30pm, 8 hours.  I could ride back in way less time than it would take to ride the bus.  I went into the gas station, loaded up on food and drink and prepared to hit the road again.  Thankfully, my senses got a hold of me in the line and I decided that 125 miles was not in the cards for this day.  I was already spent, on a balding rear tire and at altitude.  I just didn’t have another 6,000 feet of climbing in me.  Luckily, I only had to ask about ten people whether they were heading east to Tioga Pass.  I found an old hillbilly and his wife, with an empty pick-up truck cab that were willing to give me a ride.  He refused allowing me to buy his gas or even a coffee.  The conversation was stimulating and the effort was minimal as we hauled across Yosemite. 
My ride home.  No pedaling necessary.  Note the full bottles of Gatorade.  That's how close I can to riding back.
I left my ride at the top of the Tioga Pass.  There was no way I was going to pass on the opportunity of descending that bastard of a hill that I had trudged up a few hours earlier.  My Strava time was negatively affected by the road closure and another few minute wait.  But, needless to say, my hands were killing me from braking so much on the 27 minute downward bomb.  

View down the Tioga Pass.  You can barely make out the road that travels along the left of this canyon.
All in all, an amazing day.  The pictures above do not do justice to the beauty and grandeur of the Yosemite Valley.  Let me know when you are ready to do this again with me.  I will either start before you or you can get extra rest at the top of the Tioga Pass.

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

The Return of StravaMo

Sunny summer is over.  Its been wet and dark recently.  Time to pull out the lights and the plastics.

This blog has been conspicuously silent on StravaMo and the MoMiles Friday rides.  This is due to Mo's generous employer which offers a sabbatical of 4 weeks paid every five years of employment.  Well, July and August brought that wonderful gift to Mo and his family.  And with that gift, I was deprived with several weeks of Mo-less riding (I was also blessed with sleeping in on Friday mornings and being somewhat productive on Fridays having not ridden 5,000 feet of climbing on the way to work).

Alas, yesterday and this morning I received two emails from StravaMo announcing his return and his intentions:

From: StravaMo
To: FatGuy
Sent: Tuesday, August 14, 2012 10:59 AM
Subject: RE: riding tomorrow?
Finally caught up on your blog…seems you have many stories to share…awesome reading. And love that you noticed how I beat you up camino alto by a tic…and even better that you got it back again.
 
Wish I realized that yesterday on my way home…I was flying despite the wind. I have purposely avoided strava and your blog and emails most of the 4 week break. I didn’t want to crave riding and avoiding this stuff helped me. Wanted instead to focus on riding with kids, and just relaxing with family on vacation.
 
Mo



From: StravaMo
To: FatGuy (and many others)
Sent: Monday, August 13, 2012 10:17 AM
Subject: Mo's riding schedule

I’m back,
 
And with a new schedule. I have some training to do if I hope to ride W2W this year. So my general training plan follows
 
·         Mondays
o   ~20 miles
o   Straight shot basically
·         Wednesdays
o   ~40 miles
o   Tib loops, Pan Toll, Muir Woods Back Country, Sutro Tower
·         Fridays
o   ~80 miles
o   Commute from Novato, Stinson, Muir Beach, Tib loop and Sutro,
 
You get the idea.
 
Note, I’m in crazy horrible shape after my break. 4 weeks off the bike + 4lbs makes for slowMo miles currently. For example my morning ride today was an less than impressive 14.6mph average :-> I blame the backpack and Oregon brews I enjoyed.
 
Mo


I find those email hilarious for several reasons.  First off, Mo's Monday email shows just how looney this guy is. Really!?!  His 'normal' schedule will be 20 miles on Monday, 40 miles on Wednesday and, oh, 80 miles on the way to freaking work on Fridays?!?!?  There is nothing 'normal about that'.  I will post an update in a few weeks to see how closely Mo adhered to his proposed schedule (no pressure, buddy).  Second is Mo's bike riding obsession.  He can not even bare to read the FatGuy blog for fear of losing sleep dreaming about my rides to and from work (and Aptos and Marin Century, btw).  Lasty, in Mo's Monday commute, his first ride in four weeks, he claims to have ridden an embarrassingly slow 14.6 mph average to work that day.  Well, looking at my data from the same morning, I put in an impressive 14.2 mph, returning from a relaxing weekend and only a short spin on Sunday morning.  Thanks for showing me up, Mo.

Welcome back.  You were missed.