See You Soon, Wisconsin

I've been wearing out this route for the last 10 weeks!

Today was the last full day in Pennsylvania on my current visit. I expect to return in October. But tomorrow I at least will begin the drive back to Wisconsin, and I probably will complete the drive in one shot to avoid paying for a hotel. I won’t be on the bike tomorrow and I’m making no promises about Friday. I will be unpacking, doing laundry, shopping for groceries, and addressing whatever jobs accumulated around the house during my 10-week absence.

I did one last ride here this afternoon. It was a lot like its predecessors. I didn’t do any special rides during this visit, but I put in my work. My fitness is better and I think I’m a few pounds lighter than I was in mid-May. My bathroom scale will tell the true story. And then we’ll see how well I perform on the familiar roads around West Bend.

Aside from assessing my own fitness, when I get home I will need to decide, quickly, whether there will be a Royal Oaks cyclocross practice series in August and September, whether there will be a Team Pedal Moraine century sometime this year, and whether I’m going to buy a treadmill for my home gym. I’ve been missing my home gym. During my time in PA, I have done no strength training. That’s not good, so I look forward to getting back into the routine.

Routines figure heavily in whatever claim I have to being a successful person. For the last 10 weeks, I stuck to my routines as much as I could. But I’m anxious to wake up in my own bed on Saturday. I’m proud of all the things I did for Mom, and now it’s time to get back to living by myself and for myself.

Shifting Into MacGyver Mode

Being 900 miles from home and having only one bike with me, encountering a mechanical issue was almost the worst thing that could have happened. It’s not as bad as a crash with injuries—something with which I have experience—but it’s still a pretty serious threat to my cycling ambitions. My rear shifter lever had been getting sticky on recent rides, sometimes refusing to return to its original position. On Monday’s ride, the spring responsible for that return failed altogether.

The lever still works, but it dangles comically from its remaining point of connection. That point of connection, though, is what still allows me to shift gears. So, the bike isn’t completely disabled. The local shop was closed yesterday and today, otherwise I may have dropped in to see whether the shifter could be repaired quickly. I plan to begin my return trip next Thursday, so there’s no time for ordering parts and leaving the bike in the shop for several days.

Enter the humble rubber band. This hack is as cheap and simple and they come, and it works!

I got through a 30-mile ride this evening with no problems at all. I could shift up and down the cassette with ease. I will count on this setup to get me through my remaining rides in Pennsylvania.

Some Notes For July 2023

On Friday the UCI announced that it will ban transgender racers from elite women’s competition if they transitioned from male to female after puberty. The UCI cited scientific evidence that the athletic benefits derived from years of elevated testosterone levels are not counterbalanced by subsequently lowering testosterone in adulthood. And this shouldn’t really surprise anyone. For decades, anti-doping agencies have conducted out-of-competition tests for a variety of performance enhancers, including testosterone, because many of them have effects that last long after the substances themselves disappear or return to normal levels. USA Cycling will follow the UCI’s lead … at least, at the elite level.

We could see legal challenges to the ban. At one extreme, some transgender advocates say that the only necessary proof of womanhood is that a person believe she is a woman. At another extreme, some opponents argue that transgender women will always be men, no matter what they do to alter their bodies. In the United States, the UCI’s distinction between pre-puberty and post-puberty transition may constitute an impossible path for athletes to navigate, as many state legislatures and the federal government have considered or will consider bans on gender transition healthcare for minors. Someday soon, there simply may be no pre-puberty transition.

Chicago’s Austin Killips has been at the center of the debate about transgender cyclists. Killips won the UCI’s Tour of the Gila stage race in May and took the bronze medal at the USA Cycling Cyclocross National Championships back in December. Another transgender athlete, Jenna Lingwood, placed fifth in the elite women’s field at CX nationals after winning the Masters Women 40-44 age group championship. I haven’t met Lingwood, but I have met Killips. We worked together very well for the last 50 kilometers of the Little Apple 100 gravel race near Chicago in 2019, and I couldn’t have asked for a better partner. So, let’s not argue about whether transgender athletes should have some place in competition. They should. And let’s not argue about whether they should be treated respectfully and as members of the gender to which they feel they belong. They should. This isn’t make-believe for them. This isn’t dress-up. This isn’t even about sexuality; it’s about identity. Choosing to transition is damned hard, and the only reason to do it is because all of the alternatives are much worse. But at the same time, let’s not ignore biology. Killips and Lingwood had no noteworthy results when they raced in men’s categories pre-transition. It’s difficult not to argue that their success in elite women’s races is largely a result of the enduring effects of male puberty.

In Other News …

On Wednesday’s ride I surpassed 1,000 miles of cycling since I returned to Pennsylvania in mid-May. It’s a big enough number to impress my mother and other people who don’t ride, but I know it’s less than I would have ridden if I had spent all of that time in Wisconsin. I can’t be too critical of myself, though, because I have devoted a lot of time and energy to Mom and to her home, including many hours that might otherwise have been spent on the bike.

Rain turned today into a rest day and robbed me of a 200-mile week. I finished the week with 11 hours of saddle time and a total of 180 miles, my biggest numbers so far this year.

I’m down to my last two weeks here in Pennsylvania. I expect to be back in West Bend on July 28 or 29. I have tentative plans to return to PA for another two-week visit in October that, hopefully, will include a little cyclocross racing.

Halftime 2023

Halfway through 2023, I am ahead of last year’s pace for both miles and ride frequency. I have ridden 1,568 outdoor miles this year, up slightly from last year’s first-half total of 1,455. And I have ridden on 59 occasions in 2023, up from 48 by this date in 2022.

So, why I am dissatisfied with my progress? There are two reasons. First, I haven’t done any really special rides this year: no races, no centuries … not even a metric century. My longest ride to date is just 40 miles! Second, I had a really unproductive June. This month’s 483-mile effort compares very unfavorably to recent years and is my lowest June total since 2006.

I have done 140 miles of walking for fitness. That’s slightly more than halfway to my goal of 260 miles this year.

I plan to remain in Pennsylvania until the end of July, and I will need a big month on the bike to get my cycling season back on the right track. May was uncommonly dry here, but June was uncommonly wet. I lost a lot of days to bad weather this month. When I came here, I couldn’t have imagined that West Bend would literally have better summer weather! July will begin tomorrow under warm sunshine in the Philadelphia area, but rain is expected to return on Sunday and then to continue on-and-off for much of the following week. That’s not good for me. I need to string together some of those 6-ride, 200-mile weeks that you have come to expect from me.

I came to Pennsylvania with a list of things to accomplish for my mother. Most of those things are done now. And Mom is 6 weeks farther along in her recovery from surgery on her fractured hip, so she can take care of many things she couldn’t handle before. In the 4 weeks that remain on this visit, I need to look out for myself a little more and crank up the saddle time.

Troubling Trends

Here in Pennsylvania, I have settled into a comfortable routine. I have been here for a month, after all, and my mother’s house and neighborhood were already familiar to me. Work for my employer has continued uninterrupted. In most respects, I am living here just as I live back in West Bend.

However, cycling feels different. On an average day I can give it only about 90 minutes. My overnight workshift ends at 8:30 a.m. Eastern Time. That means my whole day is shifted one hour later: I’m going to bed an hour later in the morning, getting up an hour later in the afternoon, not getting on the bike until late in the afternoon, then cutting my rides off at about 90 minutes to ensure I can help Mom with dinner. I’m going to finish June 2023 with more miles, year-to-date, than I had at the end of June 2022, but that’s mostly because this April was so much more productive than last April. June 2023 is not going to be a statistically impressive month, and by the end of July it seems probable that I will be behind my 2022 pace. That’s up to me, of course. If I find the motivation to do longer rides on my days off, then I can stay ahead. I will remind myself of that at a later date; this week already appears to be compromised. The forecast for Thursday, my next day off, is 65° with rain. That’s a miserable excuse for a summer day in Philadelphia, and there’s a chance of rain every day after that until at least the middle of next week.

I did the 3,000th ride of my cycling career last Thursday. That’s cool, I guess, but my ride frequency hasn’t been great this month. I did only four rides during each of the last two weeks, just 6.5 hours each week, and barely more than 100 miles per week. At this time of year, my mileage and saddle time should be roughly double what I have been doing. I have lost more days to bad weather than I could have anticipated, and that’s going to get worse before it gets better.

Gino Mäder

Official statement from the Bahrain Victorious team:

It is with deep sadness and heavy hearts that we have to announce the passing of Gino Mäder. On Friday 16th June, following a very serious crash during stage 5 of the Tour de Suisse, Gino lost his battle to recover from the severe injuries he sustained. Our entire team is devastated by this tragic accident, and our thoughts and prayers are with Gino’s family and loved ones during this incredibly difficult time.

Following the high-speed incident which occurred on the final descent of Thursday’s stage, the 26 year old was resuscitated at the scene by medical staff who also performed CPR, before being airlifted to hospital.

Despite the best efforts of the phenomenal staff at Chur hospital, Gino couldn’t make it through this, his final and biggest challenge, and at 11:30am we said goodbye to one of the shining lights of our team.

Gino was an extraordinary athlete, an example of determination, a valued member of our team and the whole cycling community. His talent, dedication, and passion for the sport has inspired us all.

Managing Director Milan Erzen commented this morning: “We are devastated by the loss of our exceptional cyclist, Gino Mäder. His talent, dedication, and enthusiasm were an inspiration to us all. Not only was he an extremely talented cyclist, but a great person off the bike. We extend our deepest condolences to his family and loved ones, and our thoughts are with them during this difficult time. Bahrain Victorious will race in his honour, keeping his memory on every road we race. We are determined to show the spirit and passion Gino displayed, and he will always remain an integral part of our team.”

Gino’s family has requested privacy as they mourn their loss, and we kindly ask that their wishes be respected. The team and family express our gratitude for the overwhelming support we have received from the whole cycling world.

Gino, thank you for the light, the joy, and the laughs you brought us all, we will miss you as a rider and as a person.

Today and every day, we ride for you, Gino.

The People At Number 63

My 90-year-old mother still lives in the house that she and my father bought in 1987 when they moved back to eastern Pennsylvania. It was a homecoming for them: they had left the area in May 1965. I was born in Pittsburgh, in western Pennsylvania, in June 1965, and I never thought of the Philadelphia area as home even though I lived here with my parents and my sister from early 1988 until late 1991.

I didn’t own a bike during that period. I didn’t even ride a borrowed bike. On the traffic-choked roads of this very densely populated area, the prospect of cycling never presented itself to me. And it was pretty clearly not on the radar of the rest of the family. I’m not sure how many decades you would have to go back to find the last bike Mom or Dad owned. The last bike-like thing of my mother’s is this torture device:

As for my sister, the bike that came with her when she moved here in 1987 still hangs from the ceiling of the garage:

My sister now lives in sunny Florida, where her old bike might find new life. But, no. If we’re being honest, then eventually this barely used Raleigh Rapide from the now defunct Racine Cyclery is destined to be sold on Facebook Marketplace or Craigslist. In a moment of curiosity about the bike’s history, the new owner might Google the shop sticker still affixed to the seat tube and discover my blog. Hello from the past.

Sifting through the past has been one of my most time-consuming jobs since I arrived at Mom’s house last month. In 36 years, a lot of things have been pushed into dark corners of the basement. But there’s no more bike stuff, not even a tire pump or ugly old helmet with plastic yellowed by age. We weren’t a cycling family.

As Alike As Two Peas

I don’t drink a lot on the bike. On any ride shorter than about 50 miles, I probably don’t need a second water bottle. And most of my rides are shorter than 50 miles. So, why not put that second bottle cage to good use? Years ago I had a Cage Rocket, a storage pod that slipped easily into my seat tube bottle cage and held things like car keys and energy bars. It wasn’t a bad product—you can still find them for sale directly from the factory—but eventually mine failed. It wouldn’t stay closed anymore and that’s a critical failure for a storage device.

I have been using seat wedges ever since, but I haven’t been completely satisfied with them. They can be hard to open and close. In recent years I have found that I use them only for spare tubes, tools, and other things I might need for a mechanical failure. I have been carrying other things—mobile phone, money, ID—in my jersey pockets. But I don’t like riding with things in my pockets. My new “smart” phone is twice the size and weight of my old flip phone, and it fits in my middle pocket only by stretching the pocket walls almost as far as they will go. Some riders are mounting their phones on their handlebars or tucking them into top tube bags. I’m not interested in those options. My phone goes with me only for emergencies. I’ll dig it out if I need it; I don’t want to see it in the meantime.

So, the bottle cage pod is an idea whose time has come again. This time I have gone with the Topeak Escape Pod in its medium size. It solves the Cage Rocket flapper vulnerability with a screw-on top. The pod easily accommodates my roadside repair gear and features a neoprene liner to reduce rattling. (Ever ride down a bumpy road with a couple of CO₂ cartridges banging together? You get sick of that sound in a hurry.) If you have used ordinary water bottles to store small items, then you would appreciate the differences a purpose-built storage pod can offer. I got such a good deal that a bought two pods, one for my road bike and one for my gravel / recreation trail bike.

The 2023 WCA Cyclocross Calendar

Back In Pennsylvania For ... A While

I am back in Pennsylvania. After driving overnight last Thursday, I reached my mother’s house in suburban Philadelphia in time for breakfast on Friday. I left Wisconsin with a list of projects I wanted to complete for Mom, all designed to make her home safer and easier to manage. Mom turned 90 last month, then broke her hip and had surgery from which she is still recovering. Her recovery is going very well and she’s back at home, but she now has caregivers who visit for four hours each day to help with meal preparation, household cleaning, and other common chores. My projects are beyond the scope of their work. I’m doing things like pruning dead tree limbs, fixing the fiberglass insulation in the garage, removing years of lint from the clothes dryer exhaust hose, changing the furnace filter, and installing a new shower head. I will work with an electrician this week to complete projects we began when I was here in April. This is great stuff with immediate, practical benefits. It’s the sort of work that appeals strongly to me when I do it at my own house, but at Mom’s house it rises to an expression of love, something at which I’m pretty clumsy otherwise.

As was true in April, I am working overnight for my employer, handling all of the responsibilities I have when I work from my home office. So, this isn’t a vacation by any reasonable definition. And there’s no pre-defined end date, which is something a real vacation probably would have. My kids will look after my house and yard until the end of summer if necessary, though I don’t expect to be here that long. I will run out of projects eventually. Mom will complete her courses of physical and occupational therapy. She likely will continue to need outside help for a handful of things, but she will return to a mostly independent life. At that point, I will return to Wisconsin.

With many projects already completed, I will devote more time to cycling soon. I have done only short rides so far: 21 miles last Friday, 25 on Sunday, another 25 today. Longer rides are coming. Fridays and Saturdays will be best for them. And I need them. I still haven’t gone beyond 40 miles this year.