I am blogging at the train station, off on another adventure. Since I am flying out of Philadelphia one-way, I did not want to have a car at the airport. I did not want to bug friends to drive me to the airport because they would be riding or baking today.
So I am doing the train. The station is 1.3 miles from my house so I walked. I forgot about the bags. I walked into town last week for dinner (2 miles) and had no problem. Plus, it was 60 degrees and I had no bags. Not even a purse. Damn. My shoulder are killing me! My hips are kind of humming, too. Hey, I made it, though. I kept adding crap into my bags because I figured I would be driving back from San Antonio. Ugh. Even my purse is heavy because I have food and drink in it.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Friday, February 6, 2009
State of the Economy
What can wash away the blues but the blues? I was out for the first time in a while; without my man and not just for dinner. I went out on the town for First Friday. Most cities celebrate First Fridays; Art Galleries and stores open past 5 p.m. featuring local artists, food, music and more. I ended up not meeting my usual friends as something else was going on for all of them. (Right - I know they were all blowing me off :-)
Eventually I met a good friend and she invited me to join her and a bunch of her friends at Jethros; a local neighborhood bar. That is what it is - a bar, booths and tables that fill a row home. I have lived in Lancaster City, extended - for ten years but I have known about Jethros for twenty but never stepped foot in the place until last week.
I went to meet other friends and I was really late. Cramped and too packed, I walked in and left. Tonight, I had the same feeling but Marilyn saw me and I could not leave. We really went for the music but luckily had time for a meal, too.
I met really great people and they all went upstairs (yes, upstairs for those that don't know about the 2nd floor - house party with music). I was crammed in a booth with five of us so I ended up moving to the bar when they when upstairs. Now the bar scene is another story. All I can say is that I have had a few "pay it forward" experiences since last weekend. Steve Young said the "pay it forward" statement in an NPR story before all my experiences happened. And they happened to me - so eventually I will have to do my part and "pay it forward" for others. Sorry, I digress.
After I had a glass of wine, soup (herbed tomato) and an appetizer of mozzarella wrapped in prosciutto, I made my way to the music.
Marilyn saved seats for us - thank goodness. The space is small with metal rocking, lawn chairs, benches, folding chairs, etc. The drywall bubbled in one section, another was ripped off, the ceiling had cracks and water spots, and the window behind me sent a draft of cold air through the crack in the window. There was a string of white Christmas lights, a high heeled, fishnet stocking lamp, Parcheesi-board games on the "bedside" table, and old pictures with bee-hived women.
Fabulous night to wash away the world. It seemed as if everything was okay in the world. I felt like I was having a martini moment, t00. (The first time I had a martini - nineteen years ago - was at a blues night at the Lizard Lounge and I wrote poetry.) Anyways, I could ramble on.
Let me just give you the songs and local musicians. We jammed to Sittin' on Top of the World ("since you have been gone - a song played in tribute to Mike Malone), 16 Tons, Back Room Girls (I think it was an original), Cover Me, Shes Got the Stuff (??), Mustang "Sally: __ (Sheila, Sandra, ...).
The musicians that I can remember: John - seemed like he came from work in his really nice, lawyer-like suit (he played with sunglasses and a fedora hat), Jimmy Blue (belly full of a jolly, black man), Kenny T (young guy - "white chocolate" as Jimmy called), the owner of Jethros and a congo drum man that I cannot recall his name. (Hey! I only had two glasses of wine.)
Hmmmm. What a night.
Eventually I met a good friend and she invited me to join her and a bunch of her friends at Jethros; a local neighborhood bar. That is what it is - a bar, booths and tables that fill a row home. I have lived in Lancaster City, extended - for ten years but I have known about Jethros for twenty but never stepped foot in the place until last week.
I went to meet other friends and I was really late. Cramped and too packed, I walked in and left. Tonight, I had the same feeling but Marilyn saw me and I could not leave. We really went for the music but luckily had time for a meal, too.
I met really great people and they all went upstairs (yes, upstairs for those that don't know about the 2nd floor - house party with music). I was crammed in a booth with five of us so I ended up moving to the bar when they when upstairs. Now the bar scene is another story. All I can say is that I have had a few "pay it forward" experiences since last weekend. Steve Young said the "pay it forward" statement in an NPR story before all my experiences happened. And they happened to me - so eventually I will have to do my part and "pay it forward" for others. Sorry, I digress.
After I had a glass of wine, soup (herbed tomato) and an appetizer of mozzarella wrapped in prosciutto, I made my way to the music.
Marilyn saved seats for us - thank goodness. The space is small with metal rocking, lawn chairs, benches, folding chairs, etc. The drywall bubbled in one section, another was ripped off, the ceiling had cracks and water spots, and the window behind me sent a draft of cold air through the crack in the window. There was a string of white Christmas lights, a high heeled, fishnet stocking lamp, Parcheesi-board games on the "bedside" table, and old pictures with bee-hived women.
Fabulous night to wash away the world. It seemed as if everything was okay in the world. I felt like I was having a martini moment, t00. (The first time I had a martini - nineteen years ago - was at a blues night at the Lizard Lounge and I wrote poetry.) Anyways, I could ramble on.
Let me just give you the songs and local musicians. We jammed to Sittin' on Top of the World ("since you have been gone - a song played in tribute to Mike Malone), 16 Tons, Back Room Girls (I think it was an original), Cover Me, Shes Got the Stuff (??), Mustang "Sally: __ (Sheila, Sandra, ...).
The musicians that I can remember: John - seemed like he came from work in his really nice, lawyer-like suit (he played with sunglasses and a fedora hat), Jimmy Blue (belly full of a jolly, black man), Kenny T (young guy - "white chocolate" as Jimmy called), the owner of Jethros and a congo drum man that I cannot recall his name. (Hey! I only had two glasses of wine.)
Hmmmm. What a night.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Winter of Ober - I mean Content
Chico-Paskenta - this century "race" has been happening for about 8 years and has become the NorCal classic spring event. We rolled at 8 am (mass start) and 2 minutes into us screaming down the center of Chico with police escort, I look back to find 200+ people packed into the peleton. Some were doing the shorter version of 80 miles. I would estimate that over a 100 were here to try and stay in the front group for the day.
The wind picked up from the start to 15 mph from the North. This did not become apparent to me until we made our first left hand turn West towards the foothills of Paskenta. I was about mid-pack into the turn and immediately was thrown into the gutter single file... game on! The gaps forming were immediate and I was quickly assessing my best options for getting back to the front. I was in the third split and there was a steady stream of riders coming back... about 70 guys in the lead pack. I got with about 10 others who were beginning to move back up and we slowly made our way through the second chase. About 10-15 minutes later we caught on and the lamenting quickly started at the back as to how freakin' dumb we were to get caught out so early. Precious energy was spent by that and we vowed to stay more alert!
I grabbed a Powerbar and took a huge bite and as I did this there was a surge at the front and the same thing happened ALL OVER AGAIN. I was redlined in the gutter with a crosswind and gaps were all over the place. I surfed up from pack to pack as best I could but started to fear that this could be the end of my day! I barely latched onto a small group that had formed on the right side of the road, enabling us to echelon and to make time back on the front pack. I struggled but managed to regroup for a moment at the back of the chase only to realize I still had a huge chunk of Powerbar in my mouth from 10 minutes earlier.
With the help of some of the bigger teams that got left out, our group made it back to the front. I tried to finish refueling and made a mental check of how the hell was I going to survive this if I kept putting myself in this position. There was plenty of horse power at the front of our now 50+ lead riders so the pace remained brisk for the next 20 minutes or so. We approached the midway point and the gravel section. Local pro, Jessie Moore, sets off the front alone into the rollers before the 4 mile gravel section and one by one a small group of 3-4 get together.
I don't know if they ever made contact with him but there wasn't much panic in our group as we still had 45-50 miles to go. We began to ramp up the speed into the gravel section. The downhill left turn reminded me of the Poolesville RR entry - really fast and dangerous if you take the wrong line. AND I had the wrong line!!!! I scrubbed all my speed and end up going back to about 15th spot as the hammer is thrown down. No rain here made this section dusty and loose. It sounded like my frame was taking on enemy fire from all the stones that were being shot back through the group. I make sure that my mouth was closed so I didn't take any in the teeth. My helmet caught a few larger stones but luckily none hit my head. My shins took a few hits but nothing too severe, either. Three flats happened right in front of me all at once and I frantically tried to nudge my line to the other side of the road. Some parts were 2-3 inches thick with 1"-3" stones and rocks so changing your track at 27 mph was a hair-raising prospect. In good position as we flew downhill into a sharp off camber left turn with thick gravel over the entire road, I couldn't find a line I wanted and seriously out of control with too much speed and no ability to turn AND with riders near me in the same predicament, I braced for a nasty spill either in the gravel or at best just off road in the scrub bushes. I veered off the road - quickly brake and turned through some bumpy mounds and into an open field and somehow managed to stay up right. Others were not so lucky. The guys that braked hard in the gravel all flatted and another dude did an ass-over-tea kettle.
I re-emerged on the road and saw the small group of 10-15 roll off in front of me. With a quick glance behind me (carnage everywhere), 20% of the group had or will have flatted by the end of the gravel section. I make it through without a flat and noticed how surprisingly good my legs felt. Fifteen seconds off the lead chase with a tailwind to help me bridge up and after about five minutes of a TT effort, I don't make up more than 5 seconds on my own. I decided to take a much needed nature break, eat and wait for a group of about seven to resume a chase back to the front.
The wind picked up a bit as we head into the hills - nothing too long or steep but some were directly into the wind. We were losing major time on the lead chase with only 2 or 3 of us doing any of the work to bring them back. Down 30-45 seconds and frustrated with this group's effort, I set off on my own hoping to hook up with possible stragglers from the lead group. A few chased after me but I pulled away and quickly gained 20-30 seconds. I could see the group in front but there was no way I was gonna to get there alone unless they sat up which was not likely. Just as I resigned to throwing in the towel, a support vehicle rolled by with three guys (who were chasing me) tucked in behind @ 30 mph. Hmmmm...what to do??? No time to think about it. I slide in behind the three others. A few minutes later, we were 300 meters behind the lead group that was all back together at this point. Two of the guys drafting with me were shot and two of us were desperately wanting to be in that front group. It was windy. The lead group was motoring and about 25 miles to go to the finish, we had no choice but blast around the vehicle and bridge the gap in one quick effort.
This was harder than I thought it was going to be. Thirty seconds turned into about 3 to 4 minutes of an all out two man rotation. Fortunately as we slowly closed the gap, we come into a small hill that ended at a traffic light into a small town. We make contact as the group rolled through the green light. There were about 10 of us left with one team having three riders and another with two - plus Jessie. I had no clue who the others were but most the guys seem tired. Just outside of the town, Jessie rolled off the front with no reaction from the group. He quickly gets 10 seconds and I wondered why none of the teams weren't working to bring him back. Hoping that everyone was as tired as they seemed, I attacked in pursuit of Jessie with one, green jersey guy, on my wheel. He was part of the three man team so it was another ideal piece of good fortune that I was having on this day. We now had his two teammates to control the pursuit of us!
Twenty miles to the finish, we rotated through but the green dude had difficulty recovering from his pulls. Several minutes into our break, green dude slowly drifted out of the safety of our draft leaving just two of us to make it to the line some 18 miles away. With green dude back with his teammates and another eight or so guys, we knew the chase was coming. I couldn't exactly see how much time we had on them. We kept passing riders from the shorter 80 mile loop on our way in and it made it hard to tell who was really chasing us from behind and who was just riding. My guess was that we had about 30 seconds. We kept it as smooth as possible and after about 15 minutes of trading 20-30 second pulls, I started to feel the fatigue build in my legs. I felt a moment of amazement at my situation. I had 4 to 5 close calls of being knocked out of this thing only to find myself off the front with the strongest guy in the race. Funny how it goes sometimes.
We didn't know the course and weren't sure exactly how far to go but thankfully a motorcycle support couple gave us information and people were marshaling at the final turn that had us four miles from the finish. Jessie was having trouble with a slipping seat post - his hamstrings tweaked and was losing power while I was reaching my limits as well. My legs were running on fumes and my back was starting to clamp up. These last four miles seemed like an eternity. We could now see 3 to 4 guys charging hard behind us. Not knowing where the finish line was, it was frustrating not knowing how to gauge our efforts. Looking back now it might have been best not knowing. We gave it every ounce of effort we had. Had I known where the line was, I might have given up.
In the last mile, we had about 10-15 seconds on the guys chasing - where the hell was the finish???? At last, we crested a small rise in the road and could see people along the finish line 300 meters in front of us and 10 seconds behind us was the chase. I rolled across the line behind Jessie....we had agreed earlier that I wouldn't contest the sprint. I benefited from a pace car earlier and even though he didn't know that, it would have been a cheeky move to go for the win. He really wanted it and was thankful for the help. I couldn't have wished for a better result than coming in 1-2 with a rider like Jessie Moore. Chico-Paskenta Century lived up to all the hype I heard these past few weeks and I would encourage anyone who has the chance to do this to come check it out. For a show-and-go event, these guys did a nice job with the support and race route - I'd definitely come back ~ Ober
The wind picked up from the start to 15 mph from the North. This did not become apparent to me until we made our first left hand turn West towards the foothills of Paskenta. I was about mid-pack into the turn and immediately was thrown into the gutter single file... game on! The gaps forming were immediate and I was quickly assessing my best options for getting back to the front. I was in the third split and there was a steady stream of riders coming back... about 70 guys in the lead pack. I got with about 10 others who were beginning to move back up and we slowly made our way through the second chase. About 10-15 minutes later we caught on and the lamenting quickly started at the back as to how freakin' dumb we were to get caught out so early. Precious energy was spent by that and we vowed to stay more alert!
I grabbed a Powerbar and took a huge bite and as I did this there was a surge at the front and the same thing happened ALL OVER AGAIN. I was redlined in the gutter with a crosswind and gaps were all over the place. I surfed up from pack to pack as best I could but started to fear that this could be the end of my day! I barely latched onto a small group that had formed on the right side of the road, enabling us to echelon and to make time back on the front pack. I struggled but managed to regroup for a moment at the back of the chase only to realize I still had a huge chunk of Powerbar in my mouth from 10 minutes earlier.
With the help of some of the bigger teams that got left out, our group made it back to the front. I tried to finish refueling and made a mental check of how the hell was I going to survive this if I kept putting myself in this position. There was plenty of horse power at the front of our now 50+ lead riders so the pace remained brisk for the next 20 minutes or so. We approached the midway point and the gravel section. Local pro, Jessie Moore, sets off the front alone into the rollers before the 4 mile gravel section and one by one a small group of 3-4 get together.
I don't know if they ever made contact with him but there wasn't much panic in our group as we still had 45-50 miles to go. We began to ramp up the speed into the gravel section. The downhill left turn reminded me of the Poolesville RR entry - really fast and dangerous if you take the wrong line. AND I had the wrong line!!!! I scrubbed all my speed and end up going back to about 15th spot as the hammer is thrown down. No rain here made this section dusty and loose. It sounded like my frame was taking on enemy fire from all the stones that were being shot back through the group. I make sure that my mouth was closed so I didn't take any in the teeth. My helmet caught a few larger stones but luckily none hit my head. My shins took a few hits but nothing too severe, either. Three flats happened right in front of me all at once and I frantically tried to nudge my line to the other side of the road. Some parts were 2-3 inches thick with 1"-3" stones and rocks so changing your track at 27 mph was a hair-raising prospect. In good position as we flew downhill into a sharp off camber left turn with thick gravel over the entire road, I couldn't find a line I wanted and seriously out of control with too much speed and no ability to turn AND with riders near me in the same predicament, I braced for a nasty spill either in the gravel or at best just off road in the scrub bushes. I veered off the road - quickly brake and turned through some bumpy mounds and into an open field and somehow managed to stay up right. Others were not so lucky. The guys that braked hard in the gravel all flatted and another dude did an ass-over-tea kettle.
I re-emerged on the road and saw the small group of 10-15 roll off in front of me. With a quick glance behind me (carnage everywhere), 20% of the group had or will have flatted by the end of the gravel section. I make it through without a flat and noticed how surprisingly good my legs felt. Fifteen seconds off the lead chase with a tailwind to help me bridge up and after about five minutes of a TT effort, I don't make up more than 5 seconds on my own. I decided to take a much needed nature break, eat and wait for a group of about seven to resume a chase back to the front.
The wind picked up a bit as we head into the hills - nothing too long or steep but some were directly into the wind. We were losing major time on the lead chase with only 2 or 3 of us doing any of the work to bring them back. Down 30-45 seconds and frustrated with this group's effort, I set off on my own hoping to hook up with possible stragglers from the lead group. A few chased after me but I pulled away and quickly gained 20-30 seconds. I could see the group in front but there was no way I was gonna to get there alone unless they sat up which was not likely. Just as I resigned to throwing in the towel, a support vehicle rolled by with three guys (who were chasing me) tucked in behind @ 30 mph. Hmmmm...what to do??? No time to think about it. I slide in behind the three others. A few minutes later, we were 300 meters behind the lead group that was all back together at this point. Two of the guys drafting with me were shot and two of us were desperately wanting to be in that front group. It was windy. The lead group was motoring and about 25 miles to go to the finish, we had no choice but blast around the vehicle and bridge the gap in one quick effort.
This was harder than I thought it was going to be. Thirty seconds turned into about 3 to 4 minutes of an all out two man rotation. Fortunately as we slowly closed the gap, we come into a small hill that ended at a traffic light into a small town. We make contact as the group rolled through the green light. There were about 10 of us left with one team having three riders and another with two - plus Jessie. I had no clue who the others were but most the guys seem tired. Just outside of the town, Jessie rolled off the front with no reaction from the group. He quickly gets 10 seconds and I wondered why none of the teams weren't working to bring him back. Hoping that everyone was as tired as they seemed, I attacked in pursuit of Jessie with one, green jersey guy, on my wheel. He was part of the three man team so it was another ideal piece of good fortune that I was having on this day. We now had his two teammates to control the pursuit of us!
Twenty miles to the finish, we rotated through but the green dude had difficulty recovering from his pulls. Several minutes into our break, green dude slowly drifted out of the safety of our draft leaving just two of us to make it to the line some 18 miles away. With green dude back with his teammates and another eight or so guys, we knew the chase was coming. I couldn't exactly see how much time we had on them. We kept passing riders from the shorter 80 mile loop on our way in and it made it hard to tell who was really chasing us from behind and who was just riding. My guess was that we had about 30 seconds. We kept it as smooth as possible and after about 15 minutes of trading 20-30 second pulls, I started to feel the fatigue build in my legs. I felt a moment of amazement at my situation. I had 4 to 5 close calls of being knocked out of this thing only to find myself off the front with the strongest guy in the race. Funny how it goes sometimes.
We didn't know the course and weren't sure exactly how far to go but thankfully a motorcycle support couple gave us information and people were marshaling at the final turn that had us four miles from the finish. Jessie was having trouble with a slipping seat post - his hamstrings tweaked and was losing power while I was reaching my limits as well. My legs were running on fumes and my back was starting to clamp up. These last four miles seemed like an eternity. We could now see 3 to 4 guys charging hard behind us. Not knowing where the finish line was, it was frustrating not knowing how to gauge our efforts. Looking back now it might have been best not knowing. We gave it every ounce of effort we had. Had I known where the line was, I might have given up.
In the last mile, we had about 10-15 seconds on the guys chasing - where the hell was the finish???? At last, we crested a small rise in the road and could see people along the finish line 300 meters in front of us and 10 seconds behind us was the chase. I rolled across the line behind Jessie....we had agreed earlier that I wouldn't contest the sprint. I benefited from a pace car earlier and even though he didn't know that, it would have been a cheeky move to go for the win. He really wanted it and was thankful for the help. I couldn't have wished for a better result than coming in 1-2 with a rider like Jessie Moore. Chico-Paskenta Century lived up to all the hype I heard these past few weeks and I would encourage anyone who has the chance to do this to come check it out. For a show-and-go event, these guys did a nice job with the support and race route - I'd definitely come back ~ Ober
I think the credit goes to "Chicocyclist" or "RodneyCox" from the Flickr pics.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Steelers!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yay! Alone with my flat screen and my cats running around as I screamed and yelled and danced (during Bruce's half-time show and the final 5 seconds!) the Steelers pulled it off. I chewed and ripped apart a pillow in the last eight minutes of the game.
Damn, I am going to have to have another glass of wine as I am all wound up now.
Damn, I am going to have to have another glass of wine as I am all wound up now.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
From Sea to Shining Sea
Posting from Ober:
It is the day after the BIG DAY. We celebrated at the Elgart's neighbors and friends with champagne and chocolate cake. Early to bed for me as I have had my first week back on the bike in over 5 weeks...the skiing has helped maintain general fitness and I eased back into the road riding last Thursday with a 4 hr, 5,000 ft of climbing adventure with the Sacramento hard core riders...pictures to come soon.
So far 18 hrs in the saddle in 6 days. Most of it postcard worthy. John and Linda are Sacramento cornerstones of the road and cross scene here and I am enjoying the "treatment" of being on the inside! I may hang here a bit longer than originally thought. We shall see.
Made it over to the North Berkley hills on Sunday to visit an old friend from Lancaster. They live on Grizzly Peak that overlooks the Bay and San Francisco. We rode in Marin county below Mt. Tamalpais - the birth place of the mountain bike - from the mountains of the Marshall Wall to the Pacific Ocean then back into the giant redwood forest. Just so beautiful!
More group rides ahead and some off road stuff, too. Sacramento has 30+ miles of bike paths along the American River that are heavily used and a great place to troll for small pacelines hammering along. Great mini-interval training.
It is the day after the BIG DAY. We celebrated at the Elgart's neighbors and friends with champagne and chocolate cake. Early to bed for me as I have had my first week back on the bike in over 5 weeks...the skiing has helped maintain general fitness and I eased back into the road riding last Thursday with a 4 hr, 5,000 ft of climbing adventure with the Sacramento hard core riders...pictures to come soon.
So far 18 hrs in the saddle in 6 days. Most of it postcard worthy. John and Linda are Sacramento cornerstones of the road and cross scene here and I am enjoying the "treatment" of being on the inside! I may hang here a bit longer than originally thought. We shall see.
Made it over to the North Berkley hills on Sunday to visit an old friend from Lancaster. They live on Grizzly Peak that overlooks the Bay and San Francisco. We rode in Marin county below Mt. Tamalpais - the birth place of the mountain bike - from the mountains of the Marshall Wall to the Pacific Ocean then back into the giant redwood forest. Just so beautiful!
More group rides ahead and some off road stuff, too. Sacramento has 30+ miles of bike paths along the American River that are heavily used and a great place to troll for small pacelines hammering along. Great mini-interval training.
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