Say Cheese Mr. Runner Man

Okay guys, as promised, I'm trying to stop worrying looking like a tourist.  Which is actually kind of funny since I'm going to be doing a lot of traveling this summer, so looking like a tourist will be a state of being for me.  Anyhoo, on my now very warm daily rides, I managed to snap this shot while trying to keep up with some old guy riding a 30 pound mountain bike going 21 miles an hour:

 

See the little rock fence I'm going to climb to catch someone's backswing?

 

Honestly, there are a lot of old guys, and by old, I mean late 50's early 60's, that are plenty strong on the bike, riding around the Rose Bowl.  Of course, the dudes on 2 wheels aren't the only people I notice while pedaling in circles.  Hello Spandex Running Nurse!  (I just saw an old episode of The Animaniacs, so I'm throwing that line in there for you people of a certain age, and also for you older, geekier people of a certain other age).  Yes... the people watching while doing laps around the Bowl is excellent.  Maybe when I'm even less self-conscious I'll take pictures of the people, although, now that I write it down, it sounds a little creepy.  Okay, no pictures of other people unless I'm in them.  Then I'm only opportunistic and shallow, not creepy.  I can live with that.

Now that I mentioned The Animaniacs, I posted a picture of the Warner Bros. Lot water tower in a much earlier blog.  Here's that pic for reference:

 

Look here for more cycle-blogging fun!

 

Now compare that reality to the loving attention to detail the animators give to the Warners' home:

 

Cute, little, bug-children!

 

If you ever get a chance to see any of these cartoons and the other characters (this is the cartoon that introduced Pinky and the Brain), you'll know another reason why I happen to be so strange.  A good place to start is their "educational" songs.  I swear, these cartoonists will do anything get a government grant.  Anyway, look here.  So, in the immortal words of Pinky: "Narf, poit, zort, egad!"

How you feelin'? Hot! Hot! Hot!

Even though Summer is officially a month away in the Northern Hemisphere, the weather in Southern California is doing its best to get an early start.  Traffic is a little busy around my new hill-stomping grounds, so I haven't had that much of a chance to pull over and take some pictures during the grind, but today I did.  I just realized that I'd been putting it off too long, and if I have to look like a fool taking a picture of someone's dog in the front yard, well, I'll just look like a fool.  So, here I am looking like a fool as cars roll over the top of Lida:

 

I usually don't smile so intensely, but I was concentrating on "acting natural."

 

Yeah, how natural can one look while straddling a bike, panting like a dog, and holding a camera in one hand?  At least nowadays I think it's natural to leave the house in skin tight clothing and make funny hand signals at cars which might or might not run me over if given the chance.  The main reason why I took more pictures from the bike trail was the lack of car traffic.  It was no big deal to take one hand off the handlebars and snap a quick picture, because, even if you swerved trying to line up a shot, there was no one around to run you down.  Riding around a public throughway during rush hour tends to make my heart, and nerves, a little jumpier.  So, to be safe, I'll have to stop to take my photos ...grr... and look like a, gasp, tourist.

Yes, I hate tourists.  Even when I'm a tourist, I hate tourists.  Just growing up in a tourist heavy spot, Los Angeles in general, Pasadena in particular, I can spot them a mile away.  So obvious, so out of place, so non-local.  *Sigh*  I know, I know, I'm a bad person for being biased, but when you live near the park where the floats end up for the Rose Parade, and your streets get blocked off while they're moving these things around, and every yahoo from Iowa and their second cousins park up and down your street, I hope you might understand that I tend to tense up at the sight of a tourist.  I once had to drive to Glendale, 15 miles east, to travel to Arcadia, 4 miles west, because of those floats.  Ah well, I'm sure tourists are nice people, even me, when I'm a tourist, but I still have to grit my teeth for half a second when that instance of recognition hits me: loud shirt, khaki shorts, white knees, dark socks, sandals, some kind of hat, and a camera on a strap - Tourist!

So, imagine how I feel when I'm dressed even worse: loud shirt, check; shorts, with padding, no less, check; weird tan line, check; out of place shoes, check; strange hat of some kind, check; camera in one hand, check!  Aaiieee, Tourist!  I'll get over this, I know I can.  Just give me some time.  Mind you, I've been working on this for 14 years, but I think I'm getting better.  Dressing ridiculously in public has been therapeutic, especially when I had skinny little thighs.  Now that I have slightly less skinny thighs, I feel like showing them off (see, I need help, I'm really strange, now will you believe me?), so the shame factor is not there as much.  But trying to line up a shot with a hummingbird and a flower while crouching over a bike?  I need to work up to that level of ridiculousness.

Okay, my next goal is to take a picture of a golfer during his backswing.  I'll have to stop in the middle of the runners' path, climb up a little rock fence, and try to look like I'm supposed to be doing that, all while wearing cycling gear.  I'm already sweating, just thinking about it.  Damn tourist!

Sunday Bagel Ride

Hey all!  I didn't get to complete my roundup of last weekend's rides, so I'll post a blurb on my Sunday ride.  Since it was Mother's Day, and there was no official posting for a ride, I just took off by myself.  I keep telling you people, that cheapskate itch in the back of my head just doesn't let my legs rest.  So, I did my little South Pasadena to Arcadia loop.  One of the best places to grab a bagel in Arcadia is Goldstein's Bagels.  There's their big ol' sign.

 

It was a nice clear day too. Happy Mothers' Day!

 

Goldstein's doesn't get as much traffic as its neighbor, In N' Out Burger, but they do just fine.  Of course, I have to keep up with my bike and coffee leitmotif, so here you go:

 

Mmm... French Vanilla... :p~~~~

 

And then after I got home, it was all about spending time with Mom.  Of course, the bro's called home, even Br. Placid the Monk (Jeffrey) got permission from his abbot to talk to Mom.  Mothers' Day around our house is pretty simple: just leave Mom alone and let her have a rest!  That meant something when all the triplets still lived at home, but it still applies to my retired Dad.  "Yeesh, you still remember how to make soup for yourself, right Dad?"  It's not that bad, but... yeah... it's that bad.  Well, anyway, after I made the soup for my Dad, my Mom had a pretty relaxing day.

Jittery Java Explorations

Our informal cycling group did not have any official rides posted on our website, CycleDotsLA, since people were either doing the Conejo Century, or sleeping in, or attending weddings across the country, so I let it be known to those that had 4 hours to kill on a Saturday morning, that they could join me for one of my exploratory rides.  I actually like these kinds of rides because they are a challenge to your fitness, your road skills, and your patience.  Not every road in the Los Angeles area is designed for cyclists (duh!), so it is nice to find the good roads for yourself.  What makes a good road?  A wide shoulder, so you can share the right lane with a parked car and rolling traffic; low traffic on early Saturday mornings; navigable traffic signals, 4-way stop signs preferred so you can roll right through them; and predictable geography, i.e., no sudden 20 percent grades thrown in for kicks.

I had some takers: Sebastian, who always wants to do any ride I throw at him, and Cathy, my friend from Team in Training's Solvang Century season.  Our mission reconnaissance: three cafes in Eagle Rock, Burbank, and Montrose, and good roads to connect them all.  I had warned them both that there might be some backtracking and some hill climbing where we won't know how far to go.  This is exploration, where a planned 30 miles could easily turn into 40 miles.

Our first stop was Coffee Table Bistro in Eagle Rock.  From Pasadena, we made our way across the Colorado Street Bridge, which is always fun, to Colorado and Shearin.  Getting to this place was a little tricky travelling west on Colorado, because of all the lanes of traffic we had to cross for that left turn, but the cafe would be great on a flat route heading east from the westside.

Our next stop was a little place in Kenneth Village in Burbank.  Kenneth Village is this cute little historic spot at the intersection of Kenneth and Grandview.  I've always passed this place on the way to the bottom of La Tuna Canyon Road, but I've never stopped, so it was finally time to see what was there.  I use Kenneth to get to La Tuna Canyon instead of Glenoaks because of the cycle-friendly road criteria: low traffic, 4-way stops, wide shoulders.  So, here's the little place in question:

 

They sell coffee by the pound too, with a pretty good selection.

 

One of the kitschy little items they sold here were little tiny coffee cups with your name on it.  I say your name on it, because they were sold out of my name.  Sure, they had Joseph, but only immediate family and ex-girlfriends call me that (I'm still trying to figure out why the exes do that *shrug*).  They didn't even have Cathy's name or any of her family names either, and they're all pretty common: Caroline, Richard, Rachel.  The least common name among us, they had: Sebastian.  So, of course, he had to buy it.  I also bought a single espresso, to go with the small coffee I had at Coffee Table Bistro.  Hey, I don't call this the Jittery Java Tour for nothing, you know.

Next stop, Montrose, and the Black Cow Cafe.  The route from Burbank to the little old town area on Honolulu was going to be the haziest part of the ride because I had never ridden any of the roads through there.  I literally had no idea how steep any of the roads were going to be.  I was very happy with how this certain street Mountain turned out.  Not too steep, very pretty houses, hardly any cars, and it ran right into Verdugo with a traffic light, like I hoped it would.  Now, Verdugo to Canada to La Crescenta was a little tricky because we had to keep bearing left, which meant crossing two wide lanes of traffic to get to the left forks.  Again, not too steep, so I was happy with finding this easy way up to La Canada Flintridge without having to pound the billygoat legs on Chevy Chase.

We found the Black Cow Cafe without much trouble, but found that it was an actual restaurant, where they have to seat you and give you a menu.  This place gets filed away with the after ride pigout sessions, so does not quite qualify for the Jittery Java experience.  Anyway, I took a picture, but the clouds had burned off, so you can't see the effective logo very well:

 

As the days get brighter and hotter, I'm going to have to find better angles.

 

Well, we didn't stop here for coffee, because of the sit down, take your order situation, but Sebastian had found a place around the corner on Verdugo that might fit the bill.  It was called Berolina's Bakery and it was very popular.  I had to take a number.  They gave me espresso in a tiny little cup like tradition dictates.  But, there was all the waiting.  So, while we waited for my number, I took a picture of the nice sun that had broken out:

 

Cathy and Sebastian, catching some rays.

 

And then it was time to head back to Pasadena.  Unfortunately, the quickest way back had to go through hospital hill: Verdugo has this pretty steep part that goes under the 2 freeway and past the Verdugo Hills Medical Center.  Cathy was dead set against it, but I had to convince her that we would have to go downhill a long way to climb up Chevy Chase and take Linda Vista, which is even steeper than Chevy Chase to get back over those La Canada hills.  Maybe I'll take her on that road next time we ride, so that even if she doesn't believe me, her legs will.  All in all, 32 miles with only a little backtracking to get to Berolina's.  Not bad.  I will definitely have to roll through that Mountain Street area again.  There were some really nice looking houses with some great landscaping.  Hey, you gotta smell the roses, don't stop, but at least slow down.

Weekend Ride Roundup for May 7, 2006

I was able to join up with some fun rides this weekend, rides to places I've been before, but not in a long while.  On Saturday was the Joe's Crab Shack to Backbay Nature Preserve ride.  It's not MY Crab Shack, so I don't take any responsibility for the quality of the food in that place.  From what I hear, it's tourist grub, so not very good, but at least you get a lot of it.  The ride starts in Long Beach and follows Pacific Coast Highway into Orange County.  There's some good long stretches of road, so if you have a camera, you can take some action shots without worrying about cars.  Here's Mike prepping his digital camera.

 

"Now if I only had someone else to shoot besides Joe..."

 

Well, Mike and I weren't alone.  We had Sebastian, my Palm Springs ride buddy, and Cecilia, one of the Team in Training members from the Solvang Century season.  As I mentioned before, there were some good places to take riding action shots.  Even I did, with my meager bike handling skills.  Here we are riding through the Nature Preserve.  Sebastian is leading the way, Mike is taking tons of pictures while he's riding, Cecilia can't believe her parents live so close to this thing and she's never even heard of it, and I'm in the back also taking a picture.

 

Marshes, marshes, marshes!

After we rode through the preserve, it was time for the return trip, but a cool detour is to take the Balboa Island Ferry back to Newport Beach.  Here's the entry gate with all the posted signage.  Only three cars at a time and cyclists cost 80 cents.

 

Those boats look pretty small...

 

We had to wait a little bit before the next ferry maneuvered to the dock, so look at all the different things we were doing while we waited: Sebastian visited the facilities, Cecilia had to tell a friend how cool it was that she was riding her bike while riding a boat, and Mike and I were taking pictures.

 

Can that boat hold three Hummers?

 

Of course, we had to make as many silly boat references as we could.  But, honestly, there was a lot of boat traffic that day.

 

"Thar be the next vessel we board! Ready the main cannons for a broadside, yar!"

 

And then it was time to beat it back to the Shack.  I had mentioned to Sebastian much earlier that I hoped the cloudy weather changed, otherwise we would be swimming through a headwind all the way back.  The clouds did not go away, so... Bring on the pain!  Mike stayed with Cecilia to make sure no one was left alone, and Sebastian and I tried to squeeze testosterone out of our legs.  Of course, there's always someone faster and stronger than you are, and we got passed by some fifty year old dude on a Cervelo.  We jumped on his wheel, and he paced for us all the way back to Long Beach.  He was strong, and I tried to keep up with him all the way, but even with his wind blocking, I lost his wheel about a quarter mile before we hit Long Beach.  I looked over my shoulder to see if Sebastian could get in front of me so I could get a bigger wind break and recover, but oops, no Sebastian.  He had popped off a few moments before.  When we regrouped, we consoled ourselves by pointing out that if we keep cycling for the next twenty years like we are now, we'll be that guy showing the youngsters a thing or two.

Sebastian and I had to wait a few minutes for Mike and Cecilia because they missed the train, and I'm sure there wasn't going to be another strong dude to pull them all the way to Long Beach from Newport Beach.  But we all made it back safe and sound.

On Sunday, instead of a recovery ride, since everyone's schedules were kind of out-of-whack, Richard and I planned on doing Glendora Mountain Road.  This would be Richard's first time, but since he'd heard so much about it, he was really motivated to do it.  I was happy to accompany him up that thing since I know it pretty well.  I'd ridden up it six times already, and I just love all the switchbacks on it.  The cool thing about banked switchbacks on steep grades is that you can use physics to make your climbing much easier.  I call it falling up the mountain.  Because the hairpin turns are usually at such steep angles, you can use gravity and the road's normal force to push you up that steep angle without expending as much any energy.  Just lean to the outside of the turn, trying to "fall," and you will feel the ground "push" you the other way.  This does not work if you are travelling in a straight line with the angle of the incline, only if you are travelling perpendicular to that angle.  On a hairpin turn, you are pretty much perpendicular to the angle as long as you are turning.  Okay, as you rub the glaze from your eyes and the drool from your bottom lip, I'll continue the story.

So, Richard made it all the way up, but not without some major cramping in his thighs.  What did him in was the little teaser descent about 2 miles from the top of the mountain.  Well, there's the proof:

 

This is a smile, not a grimace of pain. Way to go Richard!

 

Not bad for climbing 2200 feet in only 9 miles.  On the way down, we got to stop at the little cafe and market that I've written about in my Jittery Java entries.  The hundred mile version of the Jittery Java Tour includes this stop:

 

Camp Williams Cafe and Market

 

Richard was still cramping a little bit by the time we finished our coffee, so I warned him, that even though we are going downhill, the climbing wasn't really over.  From the cafe to the East Fork Bridge, there are three major hills.  Plus, there was a headwind rushing up the canyon.  Fun...  Well, I beat Richard to the bridge by a little bit, just in time to snap this shot.

 

Richard is right at the end of the bridge.

 

From here down the mountain is not a straight down hill either.  Is there such a thing as a rolling descent?  But, Richard's thighs had loosened up a little bit more, and we stayed together, even at the flatout descent where I got to go 37 miles an hour.  Richard had it easy since he outweighs me by about 85 pounds, so I had to work through the lower terminal velocity caused by the headwind.  And that was the GMR loop from Duarte.  All in all, a pretty good weekend for riding.