New Zealand Bicycle Tour

I just completed a ten-day, 330-mile bike tour of New Zealand with Backroads Touring Company. My original intention was to blog occasionally during the trip. The good news is that there was too much time on the bike and too much to see and do. So here I sit in the airline transit lounge collecting my thoughts and working hard to remember the best parts.

I’ve been wanting to do this trip for several years. I was one of the six percent of people (according to a tourist office survey) who said that the Lord of the Rings movies motivated me to want to see New Zealand. That, and a late-winter trip helps launch my century season. I was accompanied by eight other Americans – three couples and two women traveling solo. With our leaders Brad and Kevin, we were our own happy fellowship, all enjoying vacation, retirement, or a great gig as a New Zealand bike tour guide. Some of my companions were using this trip to train for their own athletic challenges – mostly marathons and triathlons.

I may have been among the slowest of the group, but I spent a lot of time taking pictures. In fact, I filled my camera card with eight hundred pictures. The best I will post online at webshots. (Readers, do let me know if this does not work!)

Much of New Zealand’s allure comes from its extensive undeveloped regions, some of which are completely undisturbed wilderness. We toured entirely on the South Island from Christchurch, making our way south along the West Coast, traversing the Southern Alps and ending in Queenstown. Much of this area is a temperate rain forest, sprinkled with a few, very small settlements that are separated by dozens of miles of heavy, primordial brush. The road through this region was not completed until the 1960s, and it was another several decades before it was paved.

Despite the fact that the voyage was coastal, you will see precious few pictures of the beach. West Coast beaches are uninhabitable due to the powerful undertow and the ever-present sand flies. These aggressive, biting insects made it difficult to even take pictures along the shore, swarming around any exposed skin and announcing their attachment with stinging bites.

Even though February is summer in New Zealand, this was a wool-and-Gore-Tex trip. We had hard rain for four of the nine days. Much of the rest of the time the landscape was shrouded in a grey mist. I found myself stopping any time the sun came out in order to gather some memorable pictures. And, near the end of our trip, we woke up to find the mountain peaks dusted with an early snowfall.

There was a lot on the balance sheet to counter the weather. The rain made everything green, including trunks of trees and road-side rock faces. The West Coast has little farmland, and there were long stretches when there was absolutely nothing. At several points we passed signs like, “Last Gas for 90 km”. The Kiwis themselves are wonderfully eccentric and care-free. In fact, you really have to remember that they expect you to look after yourself in these parts. I had to remind myself that this was, sometimes, a country with no guardrails.

And, the food! Lamb that melts in your mouth; delicious salmon; great-tasting beef, fish, cheeses and baked goods. We all bicycled hundreds of miles and gained weight. Every meal was a memory. Many of us, when asked, thought that the lunchtime visit to a salmon farm gave us the best meal of the week. Perhaps it was because we were chilled from the rainstorm, but the salmon chowder just hit the spot in such a way that we remembered for days.

First Century of 2012

Last month I finished the Phoenix Metro Bike Club’s Casa Grande Century. This loops through the desert from the southern suburbs of Metro Phoenix through Florence, Coolidge, and Casa Grande. It’s flat, but the desert can deliver some potent headwinds. Today was no exception. The early hours of the day were calm, but by the time we reached mile 55, a serious breeze was blowing from the northeast. Thus, the final half of the ride was an upwind grind. I’m happy to say that I was able to pour on the coal for the final 15 miles, maintaining about 13 miles per hour into the wind along Arizona route 87.

The PMBC runs a nice century. It starts at a civilized hour of 8AM, but one should arrive early to avoid the lines at the check-in table. This is one of the only centuries in the country in January! One should also bring something warm for the morning chill. While Arizona temperatures reach the upper 60s in January, the mornings can be a bit chilly – especially on the hands.

At first blush, there’s not much to day about riding in the desert: cactus, sagebrush, crows and buzzards. In reality, if you’re paying attention, there is a lot going on. There is significant agriculture out on the Arizona desert. I passed numerous irrigation canals, pumps, waterworks, and sluice gates. In one area around Coolidge, cotton was a major crop. It was so prominent that balls of cotton lined the road everywhere. Remnants of this year’s harvest could be found for miles, including along the roads leading into the large town of Casa Grande. At one point they looked like little piles of snow.

And there was cattle. Every now and then we would pass a cattle feeding pen, or get passed by a cattle truck. At times like these the wind became a bit more friendly, carrying the unique smell away quickly.

There were orange groves as well, ripe with un-harvested fruit. And, citrus fruit stands sprouted along several intersections.

For a cyclist, development and growth in Phoenix is a good thing. The road designers have been pretty consistent at establishing bike lanes along the major arteries of suburban Phoenix. On this ride, we were able to use bike lanes only in a few areas, but they were a welcome respite to the shoulder-less roads of the old days. The ride organizers advertised the use of ‘low-traffic’ roads, but this Sunday in January seemed to draw a lot more traffic that I had pictured with such a claim. Doesn’t anybody watch the NFL playoffs in Phoenix?

As the Year Ends...

As the year comes to a close, I have been able to complete one more century, and bring my December total mileage to my second highest month of the year! I traveled to Sebring, Florida – the home of the Highlands Bike Festival two weeks ago – to partake of the quiet, flat roads and the sixty-degree temperatures. On the week after Christmas, I packed in nearly another 200 miles.

So this makes 2011 my best bicycling year in decades – and probably the best of my entire life. It bests all the years since 2002, which is as far back as I’ve kept any records. I’m not sure how much bicycling I did in the decade after I left the Navy or in the 1990s. I think if I had done over a dozen centuries, I might have remembered it! (I remember doing one or two a year in the 1980s, but there may have been lots more long rides.)

A cyclist friend of mine mentioned that resting in winter time is a good way to avoid burnout. It’s always a balancing act, because one does not want to lose all the fitness that was gained in the previous season. As it turns out, our winter here on the East Coast is looking to be quite mild. There will be several weekends in which we can enjoy at least a short ride.

One of the nicest outcomes this season is the acquisition of a new bike. The crack in the frame of my Gary Fisher hybrid led to a replacement hybrid bike: a Trek Dual Sport 8.4. I like the hybrid arrangement because it allows me to ride the roads and the trails. The tires are a bit rougher, and one can’t really generate huge mileage on these bikes, but they take you places that are a lot more interesting.

Cold weather, I’ve discovered, also cuts down on speed and mileage. In the winter, even if you’re all bundled up, when you look down at the GPS you’ve gone slower and shorter than you expected. Add in a little chilling headwind and the pace drops even more.

A Wet Century

Sebring, FL. Over the course of 35 centuries, I have seen my share of heat, hills, headwinds, and, of course, rain. This past weekend I got some minor headwinds (minor for Florida), and a big dose of rain. I was enjoying the company of Florida cyclists at the Highlands Bike Fest, held annually at the venerable Kenilworth Lodge in Sebring. This is the "land that time forgot": the urban landscape, the street network, the architecture, and the whole 'feel' of the place seems like Florida in the 1950s.

This three-day festival takes advantage of a quirk of Florida real estate: the first part of any new housing development is the access boulevard. This means that the city is surrounded by long, lonely, well-paved and lightly traveled roads. The roads pass through what may someday be houses, but is currently scrubby wilderness (or cattle ranches or orange groves). On the map there are dozens of side streets, and it looks like a crowded residential gridwork. On the ground, however, there is nothing but straight, flat, smooth highway.

There's not much to say about the rain. It was not in the forecast. It danced around a bit in the morning, but began in earnest at about mile 60. For the final forty miles, I was soaked. The temperature hovered around 70 degrees, so it was not that uncomfortable. It helped that the road was smooth -- potholes hidden by puddles can be a big problem. On the other hand, I believe rain significantly reduces rolling resistance, and can add a few points to your speed.

I felt pretty strong at the end. In fact, I was able to maintain over 15 mph on the last long stretch. On the final straightaway through Sebring to the hotel I had enough juice to put on the afterburner.

I enjoy this warm weather break at the end of the cycling season. I did Highlands Bike Fest last December (when it didn't rain!). In fact, I came back to Sebring again to escape the ice, snow, and cold of Northern Virginia. You can walk around in shorts and short-sleeved shirts. You put away the chap-stick and get out the sunscreen. It's a great way to keep your bicycling fitness up for the coming season.

Reflections on the 2011 Century Season

So this was the year I got serious about the cycling quest. With the rides I took this Thanksgiving weekend, I've pedaled over 4100 miles this year -- my best year yet. I've ridden a bike in 21 states in one year, a new high as well. (If I can manage to grab some December miles in PA and WV, I can increase that number by two.)

Fitness and weight loss have been the two most prominent benefits. But, spending over 40,000 hours in thought and reflection with better-than-normal blood supply to the brain can change your outlook on life.

I tend to think happy thoughts -- I'm normally an optimistic person. So my 'discussions with my handlebars' don't normally dwell on the past, on the missed opportunities. I find myself thinking most about the future: plans I need to firm up, conversations I need to have, things I need to do, and -- of course -- blogs I need to write. If I made good on all the things I planned to do while bicycling, I would have so much impact on the world around me that I would bend light. But, alas, we can barely get a start on our dreams. This blog is such a start.

Bicycling is a solitary exercise -- especially the way I do it. I have to wonder what my life would have been like had I spent 40,000 hours playing golf in the past year. Of course, I surely would have been less fit and less successful in weight loss. But, I would have enjoyed a world of conversations, an interchange of ideas that does not seem to take place while you're in the saddle. (Don't get me wrong, I don't play golf and I doubt I would enjoy it -- it's just that golf provides a valuable counter-example to cycling.)

So, while there are no regrets about the path I've taken, I think I can say that I enjoy cycling with other people. The centuries that were the most fun were those in which I found other riders who moved at my plodding pace. And, the bike tour I took was likewise a pleasant moment: spending vacation time with people who climbed the same hills, saw the same scenes, made the same turns, and were pushed by the same tailwinds. Not to mention rain showers, traffic, and potholes. Sharing with others and extended conversations help to round out the bicycling experience, knocking off the rough corners of riding solitude.

All this leads to my next post, which will be about my plans for 2012 and beyond. Preview: I expect I will be able to finish the project in the coming year or so. So, don't touch that dial!

End of a Great Season

Springfield, VA. With the previous weekend, this brings to an end a season of highly satisfying accomplishments. All told, I completed centuries in fourteen more states. My total at the end of 2011 is thirty-five states. I have achieved probably the most important accomplishment of all: I feel great! I'm planning on celebrating this Saturday by doing a century (what else!) from my own front door.

I spent last weekend in Georgia's beautiful fall countryside on roads that could not be more deserted. The ride was called "Cruisin' in the Country" and it certainly lived up to its billing! The weather was much like the first century of the year: 70 degrees and no wind! Even though equipment problems kept me from finishing the 100, I did rocket along at a 16-mph pace -- my fastest yet.

I've updated the map at the bottom of the page to show my plans for next year. In the coming weeks, I'll post more reflections of this year and more information on the rides I plan to do in 2012. The short version is: I expect to finish all but Alaska in 2011, and knock off the fiftieth state in July of 2013. That gives me some slack so that, if I fail to complete a century in 2012, I have the first half of 2013 to try again.

FestiVelo: South Carolina's Bicycling Festival

I spent last weekend in and around Charleston, South Carolina. There is a modest bicycling event there called FestiVelo. FestiVelo used to be held in early December, often under conditions of early winter. This year the organizers have chosen to move the date to early November. This allows them to grab a little warmer weather, but sacrifice some of the Christmas colors and lights. Most riders are quite happy with the change.

The actual century on Saturday was cold and windy, but warmed (eventually) by bright sunlight. FestiVelo headquarters -- the start and finish -- were in a lakeside Navy-run recreation area near Monck's Corner, South Carolina. The course was amazingly flat, and in a calmer day I probably could have set a new record. As it was, I finished at my usual time: about 4PM.

South Carolina has not quite decided what it thinks about bicycling. Most drivers gave cyclists a wide berth. Some, however, chose to pass close to me at high speed. It's always subjective, but it seemed as if this was more common than in places like Minnesota or New Jersey. Additionally, there were side-paths along some major roads, but they were disjointed. They would go on for about two miles and end abruptly, only to start up again three miles down the road. Local bicyclists must be incredibly frustrated!

This ambivalence probably affected the negotiations with the local authorities. The ride organizers seem to have promised that we would be 'off the road' by 3PM. I certainly had every intention of finishing by then, but the headwinds ate away at my pace, and added about an hour to my time. The last 20 miles of the ride were on pretty quiet roads (or wide, sparsely-traveled four-lane highways). While it was lonely, it was warm, calm, and pleasant. I accomplished my goal of finishing with a smile.

I don't think I saw more than 100 people on this ride. This stands in stark contrast to the thousands who rode in the rain in Michigan the end of September. I guess getting to South Carolina is a bit difficult. I met several people from Virginia and Maryland who drove down.

This leaves me with one more state to complete this year: Georgia. I'll move from typing this blog entry to packing up to fly to Savannah. I'll be enjoying a century that I've been wanting to do for a long time: Cruisin' in the Country. After that, I'll publish the end-of-year map.