The first sportive of 2010 is in the bag. Eagerly anticipated by 6 of us – me, Jonny, Millsy, Simmo, Duncan and Paul – as a key test of early-season form, the Puncheur lived up to its reputation from last year: a fast, mostly flat route around the South Downs with excellent food and organisation.
It was freezing cold on the start line at 7.45am on Sunday, and it didn’t get much warmer, despite some bright sunshine as the day wore on. It was a ragged start; I got a lot of cold air into my lungs straight away, my heart rate pounding up in the 170s – it felt like my body was under a lot of stress. This feeling of stress never quite left me the whole 70 miles of the course. We were all taking short pulls at the front to begin with but everything felt a bit giddy. Then we hit ice, several big patches. Duncan went down, later joined by Jonny.
The first half of the ride, I just felt strain, so I tucked in behind Jonny and a strong-looking rider in a Cannondale top. After the feed-stop, I felt stronger, and made up for my poor contributions to the pace early on by taking a long stint into the wind. I could feel it coming back, the feeling of lightness, of floating on the effort.
At about the 3-hour mark I started to tie up. We’d hit a modest hill at around 2hrs 30, which had separated myself, Theobald and Cannondale from the others. I knew if I lost those two, I was most likely on my own to the finish, so I did everything I could to cling on, but closing the gaps became too much. Swearing at the wind, I roped myself in to the bottom of Ditchling Beacon, then climbed it without further incident. Final time: 4hrs 06 – 7 mins faster than last year, this time without going wrong.
I’ve done more riding (in pure hours on the bike) than I had this time last year, but notably less high-quality training such as intervals. This is potentially the reason for my lack of any kind of explosive pace. I remember feeling really full of beans last year; this time around, I felt easy on the hills, with reasonable stamina, but not that much power. My leg injury could have played a part. I’m half a stone lighter than last year (10st 10 vs 11st 6) – so that’s maybe a factor. I guess since my goal this season is the Maratona in July, building a base with plenty of hills, without hitting the intervals too early, will hopefully pay off in the end.
A short footnote for Millsy – he had a shocker. Training to within an inch of his life, he had to do a long run and a ride the day before, then flatted at the start of the sportive. His grim-faced expression in the photos tell the full story.
Two weeks ago I had a crash on my commute to work. For various reasons it’s taken me a while to get around to documenting this unfortunate incident – but there it is. I crashed.
I was riding in on a drizzly Monday morning when somebody opened their passenger-side door into my right quad. It happened in a split-second, and I landed in a heap in the gutter, my bike likewise. People asked me whether I flew into a rage at the passenger – I didn’t, the pain and shock made me dazed and docile. The passenger, driver, and various bystanders huddled around me for a minute or so, then, satisfied that I would live through it, got back to their Monday mornings. I continued the commute powered by my left leg only.
It hurt quite a lot. I took Tuesday off at home to ice it and try and bring the swelling down. My main worry of course was that the injury would affect my preparation for the Puncheur, but in fact I rode my bike home gingerly Wednesday night, and experienced only a slight loss of power on a long ride on Sunday. I limped painfully for a few days, though. The bruising spread around my whole upper thigh and down to my knee. Even two weeks on, I still get woken up by the discomfort in the morning.
The best thing about February is that it’s no longer January. That said, it’s still cold, and wet, and muddy. In fact the only thing that saves February is that my birthday is on the 7th – which potentially means new kit.
Having achieved my January goal (I rode about 29 hours / 17 days, compared to Jan 09, when I rode 25 hours / 15 days), I’m starting to feel a return of the legs. Yesterday I did 3 hours, mainly brisk, on a hilly circuit that took in Toys Hill and a handful of other spikes. My heart rate graph for the ride revealed an average of 144 bpm, and a max of 169 bpm, very similar to what I recorded on Jan 17, although I felt like I was riding smoother and stronger over tougher terrain. I’m considering doing the same route in reverse on Wednesday, but just pushing it a fraction harder.
But man, the conditions sucked. 1 hour of drizzle, followed by freezing fog and visibility down to 70 metres, and a layer of slush that turned to mud on sheltered roads. Roll on Spring time.
So – 8.35 miles, 40 minutes each way on average. It’s a tougher ride in than my former one – not just because it’s 3 miles longer, but because there’s more traffic, more traffic lights, more exhaust, and more other cyclists on the road. There are more tricky bits where you need to be in the right lane, or you need to take a particular bike path – or you’re toast, basically. There’s no final stretch up Dartmouth Park Hill to finish you off, but on the way home the route between Acre Lane and Thornlaw Road does gradually climb and it can be as hard as you want it to be. 4 days of 80 mins per day can deaden your legs at this stage in the season as well, especially on 6-7 hours of sleep per night.
With the snow and ice washed away by rain and milder weather, I’ve spent the weekend pulling January’s shoddy training schedule back into line.
Despite waking up on Saturday morning vowing to spend two days at my laptop, I braved the drizzle for an hour on Regent’s Park. As ever, the hardest part about going for a ride in bad weather was pulling on the lycra in the first place. I rode the hack, and got soaked.
Today I rode the Finchley – Knebworth ‘cheat the week’ route – for one last time before the move south. To be honest, it’s not one of the classic routes (no hills to speak of, plenty of A-road) but from North London, without taking a train, it’s about as good as it gets. I’ve never Google mapped it before, so here it is for posterity:
It was 3hr 30 – the majority in the small front chainring. Conserving le jus at this stage. Joe once told me one of his club mates didn’t go into the big ring before March – excessive or the best way to build an early-season base?
Some shots from my visit to the Cycle Show on Sunday. I went along with Jonny and C to check out shiny bikes and trick bits.
On the whole, I was a little disappointed by the show, which didn’t live up to my expectations from other bike shows (like the unforgettable Bike ‘96!):
there were few discount deals to be had
there was a tiny retail area selling pricey t-shirts and bog standard kit
the BMX street area was small and massively overcrowded
And where were the freebies? That’s why we pay £12 a ticket! Literally, I got 2 Windose energy gels and a badge.
Yesterday was the probably the worst roadside breakdown scenario I’ve experienced. I’ve had rides brought to a premature end by forgetting to bring a pump, or multiple flats. I’ve had to radio for a car pickup miles from home before, and on a few occasions have had to beg bus drivers to give me a lift to the nearest train station. But this one takes the cake.
Picture it: beautiful, bright, crisp morning, early rise, good breakfast, 7.24 train from Marylebone. Humming along on the Denham loop, making good time. Set for a solid 4 hour ride, then back for a coffee on the train and big lunch.
Ping. Sounded funny. What the…
The hole where the spoke snapped off.
A spoke on my rear Neutron Ultra had snapped off at the rim and twanged into the middle of the road. The wheel instantly went way off true.
Realising the ride was effectively over, I checked the map and headed slowly towards Prince’s Risborough. The wheel was wobbling badly but I figured it would get me 5 miles to the train station, where I could pick up the line I came out on.
BANG. WTF.
Shredded sidewall.
I should have seen it coming, but the wobbling wheel had (within about 200 yards) rubbed against the brake pads, worn the sidewall of the tyre down and exposed the inner tube, resulting in blowout.
Luckily, I was about 1 mile from Stoke Mandeville. Nothing for it but to walk, in cleats, along the road to the station. Could have been worse. Unfortunately, Stoke Mandeville is on a different line, so I’d have to buy a new ticket. No great shakes. It’s Saturday, though, and there’s no train on the line between Amersham and London Marylebone. The bus replacement service won’t take my bike, so I’ll need to get a Metropolitan Line train from Amersham. There’s maintenance on the Metropolitan Line as well, though, so I’ll only be able to travel as far as Northwood, in Zone 6.
I’d managed to deal philosophically with the situation up to this point, but the realisation that I would have to get a taxi from Northwood back home to Hornsey was what tipped the whole experience from ‘one of those things’ into an unholy shafting. Sure enough, the taxi cost £40.
This misadventure has also tipped my feelings about my wheelset into negative equity. Check the 7-month update here.
For the last 5 or so years of living in London, I’ve got by on a motley crew of unreliable commute bikes, piecing together old broken frames with hand-me-down componentry and bottom-dollar bits. I’ve only ever ridden nice, smooth bikes on the weekend. No longer.
Anyhow, I’ve now ridden the bike home. First impressions:
it’s heavy (frankly)
pretty wishy-washy steering BUT
it’s sturdy
it’s fast
the brakes are solid
it fits
The steering issue is probably more to do with my having ridden a bike with bent forks for 18 months, and I’ll get used to it over time. I’ve now fitted mudguards, SPDs and light mounts – bring on the autumn!
I passed this bike chained to a railing on Mortimer Street today. It was a near-mint condition 1995 Kona Lava Dome in midnight blue, the exact same bike I received for Christmas in 1995. This was the rig that truly launched my lifelong love of bikes and biking.
I’m just going to pause a moment to remember this bike, and how great it was (for me, and probably a generation of others):
the Lava Dome was – up until 2007, when it was mysteriously retired – the classic entry-level MTB in the Kona stable, RRP £500.
the 1995 version had stunning understated good looks (IMHO Kona’s paint jobs have just got gaudier – check out the offensive 2006 version, perhaps the reason why it didn’t sell and Kona withdrew it?).
the Tange Infinity cromoly double butted frame, with its signature sloping top tube and tight rear triangle, rode like a dream – it climbed well, it loved singletrack.
I had this bike for 11 years. A few highlights from its rise and fall:
1996: upgrade to Pace RC35 suspension forks
1996: 6 days bike touring in the Scottish highlands
1997: flew with me to Vancouver, Canada for a year of north shore trail-riding
1998: 24 hours of Adrenalin, Whistler, B.C.
1998: big bike tour down the west coast of the US, hitting some classic singletrack in Washington and Oregon
1998: frame bent on the flight back to UK, cannibalised for bits
1998-2001: frame hangs in my shed in Stoke
2002: the Lava Dome returns as a singlespeed hack for the streets of Edinburgh
2003-06: the hack moves to London
2006: after weeks of cracking, the frame snaps at the rear drive-side drop-out. The broken frame is deposited in a skip near Brick Lane.
Surveying the damage up close in 2006.
You can imagine the rollercoaster of emotions I experienced on seeing this bike in the street. Frankly, I was on the phone to somebody and had to hang up. I realised that I would pay over the odds to ride this bike again. If it’s yours, leave a comment!
View Kona Lava Dome in a larger map
