Saturday --
Good group met at Lola at 8am Saturday. Me, the HBadger, Ullrich, Scheibs, Veej and Stanton. Weather was cool and seemed to be getting cooler as we stood around the lot whilst the stragglers geared up. I passed out some extra warmth gear to the badger and Ullrich (who is not so tough in the cold post poundage release!).
We had a very pleasant spin going on Bee Cave, with the goal of tacking Lime Creek onto the normal Mod Oz Loop. As we passed Lake Hills Church, I dropped back to third wheel to do some coast chatting. Then BAM! BAM! Both tires blow at once. That is a first for me. Once I stopped, I surveyed the area for some COPS cameras. The perp runs over a Spike Strip! This was a particularly painful demonstration of Murphy's Law. New Tires (Schwalbe Ultremo) and new latex tubes. Back tire was ruined, with a hole I could get my finger in. No idea what I ran over, but the situation rendered me unable to speak in anything but profanity. With steam streaming from my ears, everyone but the HoneyBadger accepted my suggestion to leave me be.
But not the HB. He don't give a Sh$t. He wouldn't take no for an answer. Fortunately, we were close to the casa. Nursed the Fly back home with a back tire afflicted with a sports hernia. Unfortunately, all my spare tubes were in my bike bag. Which was in my car. Which was at Lola. So I pumped up the tires on the Prince and executed the slowest bike change in recorded history.
With the crew gone, me and the badger stuck to the original plan. We hoped to minimize stops and reel them in at the 7 Eleven post Lime Creek. Given the introductory events, I think it's fair to say I had some demons to release. Which I did on the Dam Hill. HB hung tough as nails for the majority of the effort, popping off the back about halfway up the last hill. At the top we hooked onto two Austin Bike kits, and they pulled us most of the way down 620. Thanks dudes, whoever you are. But then they ran a light and we bade farewell to the lawbreakers.
Lime Creek was pretty controlled until past Volente. Lotta rollers, lack of nutrition and a headwind from Volente to Anderson Mill gouged the Badger deep into his soul. We stopped at the 7-Eleven for some sugar and warmth. Stopping when the temp is below 45 degrees is a bad idea. We refueled inside (and had an interesting conversation with the counter guy about his Iraqi experience) and I started to feel my toes. Once roused, they were angry about my gear choices.
We got back on the bike and experienced the coldest 15 minutes of my life on the bike. For those that live in cold climates, hold your laughter. I don't need to hear stories about your subzero climb up Ventoux. Or your trek up Mt Evans at 6am. Me and the Badger were freezing our stones off, that perfect combination of wind, temperature and cold, soggy gear. Misery loves company and I was happy to share the suffering.
We slowly ground out the miles, and by Spicewood I was out of survival mode. Tailwind on 360 was a gift from Above. With the tailwind and the core back to normal, I set a nice pace up the Hills, catching a 787 guy on the final climb up to Bee Cave. He was futzing with his bike (which had Di2), and clearly not riding hard. So we both climbed out of the saddle all the way up side by side. Thanks dude for not dropping me!
Met the Badger back at Lola. Turns out the other fellas audibled into the full Oz, so we never woulda caught em. But it was fun trying!
Sunday -
Woke up, went out to get the paper and found the roads wet. Looked like it was just a light sprinkle, that would clear up quickly. By the time I got back inside, the Dough was in full revolt. Hydrophobes. So we canceled the ride. I went solo. Dressed in more layers than Ralphie's brother. Recovery pace. retraced the Mod Oz, but added a few miles up Anderson Mill and thru Balcones Woods to Great Hills.
Only notable event of the day came on 360. Right before the bridge, these two dudes blow past me while chatting about SRM's. Guy closest to me says "hey man how's it goin". Not in the form of a question. More like a statement reflecting his appreciation for me getting the hell out of his way.
This happens to me kinda infrequently, but always gets my greyhound blood flowing. So I drop my recovery plans in the Dustbin and crank it up a few notches. Here is where it gets weird. As I get closer, the guy that spoke to me starts to look more familiar. Ok, now I am three bike lengths back, and that bike looks like....No way. Couldn't be.
Panozzo!?
Oh yeah it was. Out for a 3.5 hour roll with an hour long interval at a pretty nice pace. Like Buck in "Call of the Wild" he has tasted blood, and he ain't coming back! Guz was with him too! I hung with them up River Hills, but came to my senses on the way up to Rob Roy, letting them go and getting back to my little ring groove. Always hate to ride up on friends on the road when doing intervals. Awkward, like running into someone at lunch while you're late for a meeting. Here is what Panozzo does to a recovery ride:
Y'all have a great week!
Good group met at Lola at 8am Saturday. Me, the HBadger, Ullrich, Scheibs, Veej and Stanton. Weather was cool and seemed to be getting cooler as we stood around the lot whilst the stragglers geared up. I passed out some extra warmth gear to the badger and Ullrich (who is not so tough in the cold post poundage release!).
We had a very pleasant spin going on Bee Cave, with the goal of tacking Lime Creek onto the normal Mod Oz Loop. As we passed Lake Hills Church, I dropped back to third wheel to do some coast chatting. Then BAM! BAM! Both tires blow at once. That is a first for me. Once I stopped, I surveyed the area for some COPS cameras. The perp runs over a Spike Strip! This was a particularly painful demonstration of Murphy's Law. New Tires (Schwalbe Ultremo) and new latex tubes. Back tire was ruined, with a hole I could get my finger in. No idea what I ran over, but the situation rendered me unable to speak in anything but profanity. With steam streaming from my ears, everyone but the HoneyBadger accepted my suggestion to leave me be.
But not the HB. He don't give a Sh$t. He wouldn't take no for an answer. Fortunately, we were close to the casa. Nursed the Fly back home with a back tire afflicted with a sports hernia. Unfortunately, all my spare tubes were in my bike bag. Which was in my car. Which was at Lola. So I pumped up the tires on the Prince and executed the slowest bike change in recorded history.
With the crew gone, me and the badger stuck to the original plan. We hoped to minimize stops and reel them in at the 7 Eleven post Lime Creek. Given the introductory events, I think it's fair to say I had some demons to release. Which I did on the Dam Hill. HB hung tough as nails for the majority of the effort, popping off the back about halfway up the last hill. At the top we hooked onto two Austin Bike kits, and they pulled us most of the way down 620. Thanks dudes, whoever you are. But then they ran a light and we bade farewell to the lawbreakers.
Lime Creek was pretty controlled until past Volente. Lotta rollers, lack of nutrition and a headwind from Volente to Anderson Mill gouged the Badger deep into his soul. We stopped at the 7-Eleven for some sugar and warmth. Stopping when the temp is below 45 degrees is a bad idea. We refueled inside (and had an interesting conversation with the counter guy about his Iraqi experience) and I started to feel my toes. Once roused, they were angry about my gear choices.
We got back on the bike and experienced the coldest 15 minutes of my life on the bike. For those that live in cold climates, hold your laughter. I don't need to hear stories about your subzero climb up Ventoux. Or your trek up Mt Evans at 6am. Me and the Badger were freezing our stones off, that perfect combination of wind, temperature and cold, soggy gear. Misery loves company and I was happy to share the suffering.
We slowly ground out the miles, and by Spicewood I was out of survival mode. Tailwind on 360 was a gift from Above. With the tailwind and the core back to normal, I set a nice pace up the Hills, catching a 787 guy on the final climb up to Bee Cave. He was futzing with his bike (which had Di2), and clearly not riding hard. So we both climbed out of the saddle all the way up side by side. Thanks dude for not dropping me!
Met the Badger back at Lola. Turns out the other fellas audibled into the full Oz, so we never woulda caught em. But it was fun trying!
Sunday -
Woke up, went out to get the paper and found the roads wet. Looked like it was just a light sprinkle, that would clear up quickly. By the time I got back inside, the Dough was in full revolt. Hydrophobes. So we canceled the ride. I went solo. Dressed in more layers than Ralphie's brother. Recovery pace. retraced the Mod Oz, but added a few miles up Anderson Mill and thru Balcones Woods to Great Hills.
Not getting cold today!
Only notable event of the day came on 360. Right before the bridge, these two dudes blow past me while chatting about SRM's. Guy closest to me says "hey man how's it goin". Not in the form of a question. More like a statement reflecting his appreciation for me getting the hell out of his way.
This happens to me kinda infrequently, but always gets my greyhound blood flowing. So I drop my recovery plans in the Dustbin and crank it up a few notches. Here is where it gets weird. As I get closer, the guy that spoke to me starts to look more familiar. Ok, now I am three bike lengths back, and that bike looks like....No way. Couldn't be.
Panozzo!?
Oh yeah it was. Out for a 3.5 hour roll with an hour long interval at a pretty nice pace. Like Buck in "Call of the Wild" he has tasted blood, and he ain't coming back! Guz was with him too! I hung with them up River Hills, but came to my senses on the way up to Rob Roy, letting them go and getting back to my little ring groove. Always hate to ride up on friends on the road when doing intervals. Awkward, like running into someone at lunch while you're late for a meeting. Here is what Panozzo does to a recovery ride:
Y'all have a great week!
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