Hills

Let's get something out of the way first:

Hills are more difficult than riding on a flat section, or downhill.

Duh.

For some people, hills go a little faster than others, no matter how large the hill:

Le Alpe d'Huez

The question I get asked the most when people see me on a recumbent trike is, "Yeah, but aren't hills really hard?"

To which I answer, "Well, aren't all hills hard?"

Here's a simple force diagram to explain why it's harder to for a trike:

Got it?

(I drew a million of those in school. A MILLION.)

Here's a simpler example. On a diamond-frame bike, if you're going up hill and it gets hard and you don't want to shift, what do you do?

You stand up. 

This means that you are now using your body mass as force to help pedal the bike. 

If you're on a recumbent and you're going up hill, do you stand up?

HELL NO!

You man up and use some muscle!

While your fat ass might help you on a diamond-frame, it's a weight you must drag up a hill on a recumbent. 

However, the best part is that all that goes up, must come down. The part where recumbent riders keep screaming, "ON YOUR LEFT!" I also like to throw my arms up in the air like I'm riding a roller coaster. 

And there you have hills. 

Any questions?

100 Miles of Nowhere

So I enjoy following the blog Fat Cyclist (http://www.fatcyclist.com/). It should really come with a disclaimer that he isn't really fat. I'll show him fat....

I wear spandex to fit in with the cool kids. 

I digress.

For four years, he has hosted a ride called "100 Miles of Nowhere" which is the race that goes no place. It raises money for LiveStrong, which is an awesome organization. He started fundraising for the organization when his wife Susan was battling cancer and now he raises a ridiculous amount of money each year. It was an honor to help him raise more money and to do such a ridiculous ride.

Here's the ride recap:

I knew I was going to be going slowly, so I got up early. Our race packets came with a bunch of awesome stuff. This is some ladies DZ-nuts. You put it on your lady parts so they don't get annihilated when riding an upright bike.

"Apply to perineum"

No, thank you!

 Instead, I rode my Catrike.

This picture makes me realize we own a lot of bikes. That's awesome.

I checked the air in my tires and headed out. Here I am at the point I felt the best in the day:

Maybe it's just I was really excited.

I decided to ride a loop around Frontier Park near my house. It was about 1.5 miles long.

Home of the "Daddy of 'Em All" (Sounds like a Maury Povich episode...)

It's usually pretty low traffic...but Saturday there was a flea market going on and a garage sale across the street and a work day at the park. I got to play "Don't Run Me Over!" a lot. I like to yell it like that guy who yelled, "Don't tase me, bro!" 

The weather started off at 55 degrees and sunny.

I decided a bike race is not a bike race without a port-a-john, so I had one brought in:

There's also a fire hydrant for quick pit stops.

Soon a crowd assembled to wish me well.

I started riding.

And riding.

And riding.

Yep, still riding. 

Riding.

I reached halfway and thought, "I don't know if I can do this."

So for awhile I switched to the parking lot to avoid the small hill that was on the ride. That's the small loop in the picture. I was riding along when I see this in my rearview:

Is that someone making an attack from the peloton?!

Is he wearing flip flops?!

Did he just hiss as he passed me?!

Dang...I'm really slow. 

After this, I headed back out onto the main loop. I also had a clothing change, as the sun was starting to burn me and getting burned would increase my chances of skin cancer and that would be a bummer on a LiveStrong ride. 

(Image cannot be found)

(Like I took a picture of a clothing change...)

So more riding.

And riding. 

And thinking.

And riding. 

With 10 miles left to go, the sun was setting and I was joined by a 70-year-old on her hybrid bike. It was nice to have someone to chat with. When she first came up on me and saw my race number and asked, "Are you in a race?" and I automatically answered, "Yes, and I'm winning." She was totally baffled on why I was riding in circle alone. I think God sent her to get me through. 

Finally, it was done! I headed into the house, happy to be home. 

First step:

Turn off trusty iPod, which cranked out the tunes on speakers most of the day.

Second step:

Take a picture with GPS. Worry that the battery will die before I download.

Ride Totals:

Total distance- 100.21 miles

Total time- 13 hours, 45 minutes (including breaks) (Do I win slowest century?)

Total vertical climb- 7484 feet

Which makes me the winner of the Ohmygoshhowlongdidittakeyou?! Division and also the Rocky Mountain Region Catrike 31-year-old female division. I need a medal.

Things I learned:

1. 100 miles is a long ways to ride. 

2. It's even longer in a small circle alone. 

3. People will not understand why anyone would do such a thing.

4. Especially not my husband. 

5. A house as a rest stop is awesome. 

6. Having support on such an adventure is awesome. 

7. Cancer is a long journey, that's longer when done alone and that no one will ever understand until they live it, but it's easier with support. That's why LiveStrong is awesome. 

If you'd like to make a donation on behalf of Team Fatty head here: http://davis2011.livestrong.org/faf/donorReg/donorPledge.asp?ievent=447594&supid=220801643

Thanks, Fatty!

Bike ride fail

My Catrike Trail is from 2008. Isn't it lovely?

The front tires are 20 inch Primos that are Kevlar belted. They came with the bike and I've put a couple thousand miles on them. The rear tire is a 26 inch non-belted tire.

Let me tell you, flat tires are no fun.

How do I know?

Because this was my ride a few weeks ago:

The part where I was going zero miles per hour was where I flatted.

Actually, I probably had a leak before I left the house. My bike felt funny and I thought, "Hmm, something seems wrong." It was only when I was fully away from the house that I looked over to see my tire flopping around the rim.

#&*@!

At this point you're probably thinking, "Well, didn't you just whip out your spare tire and change it like the bike stud you are and keep riding?"

Ahem.

I'm no bike stud.

I had to call my mom.

To pick me up.

In her Scion:

Given:

Catrike Trail>Scion trunk space

Find: How'd it get home?

Solution:

Put bike in as far as it will go and hold onto $2400 worth of bike with arm reaching back. Pray lots. Be glad it's only 1.6 miles.

Sigh.

Lesson of the day: Always carry a patch kit and pump. ALWAYS.

Welcome!

This is a blog about bikes.

Not just any bikes.

Recumbent bikes.

And not just any recumbent bikes.

Recumbent trikes.

I thought I'd answer a few questions right off the bat.

Q: Are you a man in his 60s?
A: I'm in my 30s and I have girl parts.

Q: Do you have a disability that prevents you from riding a "regular" bike?
A: Nope. I'm just against causing pain to said girl parts.

Q: Did you never learn to ride a regular bike?
A: I can ride a regular bike! I just bought a new cruiser recently.

Q: Why a trike?
A: Because I like riding my bike for a long time and there's something very reassuring when I'm tired that I can't fall over.

Q: What kind of trike do you ride?
A: It's a Catrike Trail with a Utah Trikes extension that allowed a 26" wheel to be added to the back. It's a pretty sweet setup.

Any more questions? Feel free to drop them in the comment box!

Stay tuned for more excitement!