Riding in traffic? Be confident, not cocky

Between big rides there’s the phenomenal American River bike trail about two miles from my house that I occasionally ride to stay in shape. But these local rides are bookmarked by a sometimes nasty bit of riding with traffic. Most of the time it’s early in the day on the way out, and the traffic is fairly sparse. But I always dread the last stretch coming home because it throws a lot at you: a perfect storm of thick traffic with plenty of side shows: three signaled intersections in a row that are typically busy, a light rail line that crosses the road that sometimes halts traffic, a couple of freeway onramps, and finally, a freeway offramp/light that is the last obstacle to the paved bike path that connects to my neighborhood.

Of course, that last intersection is often where a car or truck is either stopped or rolling slowly, looking to take a right turn. I make a hand signal that I want to ride in front of them so I can turn right to my neighborhood connector path.

This last situation is the biggest calculated risk of this trafficky stretch. Trying to see if the driver sees me and won’t floor it while I ride in front of him or her. This is a snap judgment. Only once so far did a car start moving while I was in front of it, and it forced me to skid turn to make the sidewalk ramp and avoid banging into the sidewalk. When I get through this last tricky part, I always take a deep breath and give a thank you to the sky!

So this final sprint with traffic is like what Forrest Gump said about a box of chocolates: Ya never know what you’re gonna get.

I keep doing this route because it’s the shortest connection from my neighborhood to the American River bike trail, even though it can be a bit “grippy” as they say. Still, it’s been teaching me a little bit about riding safely in thick traffic, each time I do it.

I learned early on that when the right lane turns into a freeway onramp, you can suddenly be stuck in no man’s land on a bike. So that means I have to get in the middle lane before the light, and signal to drivers that I’m doing so, hoping that they (1) see me, and (2) don’t want to push me off the lane, and/or (3) honk to express their unhappiness about my riding a bike in the lane.

Sometimes I get honked at, and get a bit jumpy. Other times I take the honk in stride, no stress. I just keep pedaling and try a friendly wave or nod. Just take it and let it blow over, and hope the pissed off driver goes ahead!

Most drivers in this stretch have cooperated if I’m clear about signaling my move into the center lane. But some drivers making a right hand turn onto the street, that also need to get into the center lane to avoid the right onramp lane, are less than chirpy to see a cyclist in the center lane space they think is theirs! They have the mindset of, “The road is for cars, idiot, not bikes! Move the blank outta the way!”

This happened a few days ago, and the frustrated Black Friday driver leaned on the horn at seeing me in my lane position. He then gunned the car with a right turn, sped ahead onto the right onramp lane, then darted two lanes to the left to get to the Target store left turn at the next light. I just kept pedaling, hanging with traffic flow, and it was fine.

I’ve heard other cyclists say it’s important to claim a lane you take; that is, don’t be on the right edge if there’s no bike lane, or cars are easily able to pinch you into the sidewalk edge. The advice was something like, claim the lane, but also don’t hog it, presumably so cars have room to pass you on the left. That makes sense, but can be hairy when drivers are gunning their engines around you, clearly irked that you’re making them lose precious seconds in travel time.

I’ve noticed that drivers often underestimate the speed of a road bike traveling in a lane, and that can lead to problems. They can be looking to make a right turn ahead and feel they can easily pass the cyclist, then safely make the turn. But if they suddenly realize the cyclist is moving faster than they thought, instead of going behind them, which is the safe solution, they sometimes feel a need to beat them to the turn, so they floor it and try. This competitive rather than cooperative, gotta beat you there mentality, also happens a lot on freeways between cars trading places to enter and exit.

I have a friend who was on his bike when a car quickly made a right turn right in front of him, forcing him to hit it. He flew off his bike, wrecking his left shoulder. The driver never stopped. A year and three surgeries later his shoulder is healed, but that accident is etched in his mind. The good news is the driver, a teen in his parents’ car, later fessed up. So police and insurance claims were involved.

Now, with the potential car clashes foremost in my mind, part of me wants to figure out a way to avoid this little stretch, or at least some of it. But I just keep riding it and hope for the best. So far it’s worked out, but it can get a little tense! Hope my luck keeps up.

Now I figure probably the most experienced and expert bike riders in city traffic are couriers, those maniacs that deliver documents from office to office. While I wonder about the bike couriers that don’t wear helmets and have a “hit me if you dare” attitude when weaving though traffic, the fact is, these riders have serious skills in negotiating their way through traffic.

A recently released movie, “Premium Rush,” had a Manhattan bike courier innocently caught in the crossfire of criminal activity. Lots of expert riding, close calls and crashes in that movie. But then, it was all slickly choreographed to look like seat of the pants riding. It wasn’t actual, live, improvised riding done through traffic with smooth efficiency, which is the key to a real world courier doing his or her job.

So I found the following video from a professional courier talking shop with a few tips about riding (which I liked) and the frustrations of the job (not fun sometimes, go figure!). But she makes some good points about a good mindset to have while riding with traffic. They really rang true to me. Check it out, see if you agree!

Thanks Janessa! 
Hopefully, traffic riding, which always has the occasional angry driver weighing in, will become a more cooperative effort between cars and bikes as drivers get more used to seeing and sharing the road with riders. Lots of mayhem has occurred over clashes between drivers and riders angling for road space. But it can be minimized, of course, if we all just work with each other. For riders, I think riding with confidence and purpose, but also, with respect for drivers, using hand signals for turns and acknowledgement, is a good approach. May not always work, but it’s a positive step in the right direction!

So until next time, remember to always strap on a helmet before every ride. And then, do all you can to keep the rubber side down!

-- Mark Eric Larson

Mark Eric Larson has written two books of essays, "The NERVE...of Some People's Kids," and "Don't Force it, Get a Bigger Hammer. To read, visit: 
http://www.scribd.com/Mark%20Eric%20Larson/shelf

Set up goals, knock 'em down!

I knew it was going to start raining around here on Thursday of this past week, and continue on and off for three or four days. So that meant one thing: Ride as much as possible before it starts raining. I did a long ride in the rain once and discovered then, that it really was no fun at all! Definitely something to avoid from then on!

I decided to do three rides in the last three days before the predicted rain. A 51-miler, a 33-miler, then another 51-miler. All three rides are relatively flat and cut through a beautiful riparian forest along the American River in Sacramento. I figured if I got in 130 miles in the three rides, I’d be getting the most in before the rain. I told myself to take mental pictures while on the rides, so I could remember them when I was home staying out of the rain. Then maybe I wouldn’t get cabin fever! Because knowing me, if I didn’t get those rides in, I’d kick myself when the rain came and riding wasn’t in the cards – unless I wanted to become a drowned rat on the bike!

I was pumped up for the first ride on Tuesday, since I hadn’t ridden for a week. After seven days I was antsy and ready to pedal.

And from the beginning of the Tuesday ride, I had energy to burn. I timed the various splits I do regularly over the 25 miles from my house to Folsom Lake. And as I continued, it felt like I’d get one of the faster total times I’ve had on it.

Usually I have a fairly fast first 14-mile split, then on the much shorter eight-mile leg up to the lake, I slow down since I’m tired and there’s more climbing.

But on this ride all the splits were fast out and back, and when I made it back to my house, I’d knocked a full eight minutes off my fastest round trip for that ride! Nice! It helped that there were no headwinds on the way home, as there often are.

The next day, I did the short version of the same route and just spun through it at a medium pace, since I needed to work out some quad soreness from the day before.

But hey, a spin ride didn’t come close to loosening up my muscles as what I did that afternoon.

Time out for Thai massage

I went to a Thai massage for the first time to get some knots and kinks worked out of the bod. Have you ever had a Thai massage? It’s a lot different than a typical massage. OK, no, no happy endings! But much more stretching of your arms, legs and shoulders than in a typical deep tissue massage.

Instead of getting on a table, you wear loose clothing and get on this big pad on the floor. Sherri, the masseuse, then kneads, pushes and pulls your toes, feet, legs and arms into intense leveraged stretches that she modulates by your muscular reactions and/or occasional blurts of sudden pain!

But it’s good stuff. She pays close attention to how your muscles react to her manipulations, and works on getting the energy flows in the body, or chakras, unblocked for maximum circulation through your muscles. She encourages breathing through the slighter pains of stretching, but is quick to back off if you feel the sharp pain of a cramp, for example. Sherri is physically focussed all through the massage, working up a good sweat as she puts your limbs through the paces.

She pushed on one of my hammies with her bare foot, using her leg to turn me into a human crossbow as she pulled on my foot. While working on one hammie, the other one started to cramp, and I had to tap out. Holy mackerel, hammie cramps, as you may well know, will make your leg seize up and you have to set about the task of quickly figuring out how to relax it to ease the searing pain.

Sherry quickly backed off and massaged out the cramp, and then kneaded out most of the leftover lactic acid out of my quads. After 90 minutes, she’d stretched all my limbs to extensions I didn’t think they could do. I gotta tellya, if you haven’t had one of these, try it out! It’ll loosen up your hard worked cycling muscles.

Back on the bike

On the third day, I hit the bike trail for the third 51-miler, and figured I’d just ride according to how strong I felt. When I got to the first split, the 14-miler that I usually try to hammer all the way, I felt strong, so I let it rip. I got my best time yet on that stretch, but had just above average speeds for the rest of the splits. I still had a fast overall time, but was happy just to get back home in one piece. Especially since there’s a stretch of nerve-wracking traffic to make it though at the end of the ride to get home!

So now, as the rain comes down, no worries. Got the rides in, with full effort, and made the most of the riding time before the rain. Love to set up goals and then knock them off one at a time. It’s not always in the cards. But when you do, it rocks! Especially when the rain comes right in time for some rest.

And now something completely different. Here’s a young Jack Nicholson’s “Five Easy Pieces” bid to order toast in a diner without breaking house rules. Check out some classic Jack:

Jack rocks!

So until next time, remember to put on a helmet before every ride. And then, do all in your power to keep the rubber side down!

-- Mark Eric Larson

Mark Eric Larson has written two books of essays, "The NERVE...of Some People's Kids," and "Don't Force it, Get a Bigger Hammer. To read, visit: 
http://www.scribd.com/Mark%20Eric%20Larson/shelf

Summon your inner bulldog

Last week, ride buddies Pat, Marc and I rode up Ebbetts Pass in the Sierra Nevada mountains south of Markleeville, down the back, then turned around. It was election day, the last warm weather, fall mountain ride of the year for us. Two days later a storm came in bringing snow and sub-zero temps to the area.

But on this day, the aspen groves shimmered bright golds and yellows, the air was cool and crisp, and the views from the mountain’s cliffside road offered spectacular vistas of big pine and cedar forests, late season streams with receded runoffs, and huge outcroppings of gray and black granite.

Ebbetts Pass is a beautiful, tough climb of about 3,000 feet of altitude from our start just up the road from Markleeville. It tops out at close to 9,000 feet above sea level. Ebbetts, front and back, is one of the five climbs of the famous Death Ride, which also includes nearby Monitor and Carson Passes.

My first climb up it a couple years ago was in the early summer heat. Like all first times on a big climb there’s the added challenge of not really having a sense of when the sucker's going to end, and how much energy it’s going to take. Of course, when it’s sunny and warm, it’s tougher since you sweat a lot and get tired faster than in cooler conditions.

Last week the Ebbetts climb was tough, but not a struggle, since I’d done it enough to know a good pace. Besides, this time the air was refreshingly cooler.

The descent down Ebbetts's backside was nice and fast, with no cars to slow us down. We stopped at the bottom at a sunny spot near a small lake. After eating snacks and trading our usual barbs, we got back on the bikes and headed back to the top.

Wow, what a difference

As I started, I noticed right away how much better I felt and how much easier it was to pedal with some pace than the last time. That time I was dog tired, hot, and seemed to be moving forward a few inches at a time, like someone crawling in the desert in search of water.

Then, it was the last leg of a hellishly long ride. It turned out to be around five hours in the saddle, after we initially figured it would be a nice tidy three hours or so. 

It was in late May, just before Memorial Day weekend.

That day, ride buddy Marc and I rode up and down Ebbetts, and then Marc had an idea: Let’s keep on riding through the flat valley and then up Pacific Grade! I didn’t think much of it, felt fine, and we kept pedaling.

Now, if I had known how tough getting up Pacific Grade was going to be, I probably would have opted out. We ran into another rider and Marc and he chatted as I rode ahead, noticing that the rollers on this nicely paved two-laner were quickly getting steeper and steeper.

It wasn’t long before pedaling up them started requiring annoyingly large amounts of energy and focus!

And soon it turned into a series of nasty steep 26 percent grade switchbacks! This was soon killing me. It was taking everything in my power to keep the bike moving up this thing. I seemed to recall Marc saying this cliff-side stretch had 1,000 feet of climbing. That’s ordinarily no big deal if it’s spread out over a reasonable distance. But when it seems like it’s all in less than a quarter mile or so, different story! You’re gonna get hammered!

I checked the ascent calculation on my Garmin. That was my only estimate of how long this merciless beating of the legs and lungs would last.

Looking up to the next switchback you got punched with the prospect of pedaling up another steep pitch to a ledge on a nearly vertical forested mountainside. You’d make it to the turn. Then there was another wicked pitch. Then another. And on. And on.When would this sucker end? There were small spots at the switchbacks to pull over and stop, but I knew that was a bad idea, so I kept at it.

Stopping would have been good for catching the breath, but holy moly, it was so steep, I had doubts whether I could get enough speed to ride the bike from a stop. Too steep!

I kept slogging up this bear, continually looking at the Garmin to see when the 1,000 feet would be up, and this torture session would end. With little or no energy left, I finally got to the top, and Marc and the other cyclist dragged themselves to the top a few minutes later.

As usual, after we caught out breath, Marc lobbied to keep on going, talking of lakes ahead we could ride to that he hadn’t seen yet. I agreed, but soon realized we were immediately descending fairly fast for quite a few miles. Too many miles, I was sure of it.

And that meant only one thing: We would have to climb back out to the top of Pacific Grade, ride down its cliff of switchbacks, and THEN, climb up the backside of Ebbetts to get to the final descent and the promised end: the truck.

So, yes, because we had to get home, we did that! All of it. And we paid the price, oh yes! The backside climb of Ebbetts Pass isn’t as long as the front side, and doesn’t have nearly the steep pitches of Pacific Grade.

Still, it’s no day at the beach, it’s a drawn out slog, a challenging climb. And when you’re beat, low on water and the afternoon sun is on your back, oh yeah, it’s a much more raggedy ride than with fresher legs and cooler air.

So as I struggled to keep going, I thought of ways to take my mind off this cruel rough patch. I had pieces of jerky caught between my teeth from earlier snacking, so I reached in my back jersey pocket and found the baggie holding the green little plastic toothpick with a little dental floss strung tight across it, pedaling all the while.

I managed to work open the sealed top of the baggie and grab the little tooth prober with one hand. I worked the meat pieces out of the crannies between my teeth until they were all clear, and yes, that felt like something of a victory, small as it was! I’d climbed a little way at least, without my mind ringing out how bad I felt.

I put the toothpick in the baggie and stuffed it back in my pocket. It was then that I noticed that the ongoing pitches in this climb were really starting to rough me up! My breathing was thick and heavy. I put all my attention on taking deep in-breaths, as deep as I could, pushing my stomach outward with the intakes, working on a rhythm.

I forgot about my legs, which felt like they actually were made of lead, and just kept inching up the mountain with my breathing keeping my legs and the bike rolling slowly along.

I saw shadows across the sun-splashed road ahead, and made them goals to reach, then found more shadows farther up the road to focus on. Thoroughly whipped, I finally made it to the top, where Marc was chilling out.

Not interested in prolonging the ride any longer in the least, I rode past him to the front side descent, mumbling something about not wanting to stop then. To the descent I went.

I couldn’t help thinking of that last suffer-fest on that same backside climb last week. Wow, what a difference it makes being more rested and having cooler air!

I pedaled hard all the way up, and never had to resort to mind games to keep it together. Probably got to the top about 15 minutes faster than before. Comparatively speaking, easy peasy. Those same-climb comparisons are always interesting to note. Well, most of the time.

I've found that when a climb is taking me to the cleaners, beating me up, and trying to grind my will to a halt, it helps to think like a dog. More specifically, a bulldog. Taking on a bulldog mentality means you simply have no intention of being denied your goal. It’s a matter of thinking like Gus, the bulldog you’ll see in the following video. He’s decided he’s on a mission to get the plastic pool through the doorway, water or not, no matter how impossible that may seem. Check it out:

Now that’s literally bulldog mentality! If Gus were a cyclist, he’d have the determination to climb with the best of them!

So until next time, remember to always put on a helmet before every ride. And then, do your best to keep the rubber side down!

-- Mark Eric Larson

Mark Eric Larson has written two books of essays, "The NERVE...of Some People's Kids," and "Don't Force it, Get a Bigger Hammer. To read, visit: 
http://www.scribd.com/Mark%20Eric%20Larson/shelf

Hazards of the autumn ride

Road biking in the autumn brings some riding challenges, especially when leaves, pine needles or sand covers the road -- or in some cases, the dangerously wide gaps between long-wise wood planks of a bridge.

My ride buddies Marc and Pat and I just a couple days ago finished a ride that had a short wood-planked bridge at the bottom of a steep gorge we’d just descended. Pat and I rode over them first, and I noticed a gap in the planks that could have sucked in a tire if you didn’t manage to ride crosswise over the gaps. We made it across and immediately started a hellishly steep climb out of the gorge.

When we met up at the top of the climb, Marc said the planks on the bridge spooked him when he suddenly saw them, making him nervously steer across.

He had a reason for being a little wary. In the back of his mind was a bad experience he had riding over a wood-planked bridge last year. He had been ahead of me on a long, rough-road descent on a shady, cool autumn afternoon in the High Sierra foothills.

By the time I caught up with him, Marc was walking around, rubbing his arm, limping, his bike laid down at the other end of a short wood-planked bridge over a small creek. 
“Watch out when you ride over the bridge,” he said, “I rode over it, but the leaves covered up the gaps between the planks. I rode into one, it grabbed my front wheel and I endo’d.”

He was shaken up, and felt like he’d just been blindsided by a middle linebacker.

“You OK?” I asked.

“Hit my knee and arm pretty hard,” he said. We hung out for awhile as he tried to shake it off, and we took it easy for the rest of the ride. Fortunately, we weren’t too far from the end of a 50-mile ride that included nearly 5,000 feet of climbing.

Autumn leaves, while exceptionally beautiful in their multi-colored splashes, will not only hide road hazards like plank gaps, but when wet, are slick as a sheet of ice. If you hit a patch of wet leaves on a fast turn, the tires can easily fly sideways, bringing the rider an un-fun hard smack-down on the pavement, causing scrapes, bruises and possibly worse.

On another foothills descent a couple days ago, we rode fast and furious down a road in the forest we’ve ridden many times in warm, dry conditions. Near the end, when you’re going the fastest, there is a sudden blind hairpin turn where, when the road is dry and clean, you can let the bike accelerate with a fast, steep lean.

Trouble is, this last time, we didn’t think to brake a bit going into that shaded turn. Both of us took it fast and leaned hard through it, only to realize at the last second that a patch of pine needles was in the middle of the turn. 
It's one of those feelings where you know you’ve made a mistake, and you may very well get messed up for it. We made it through without slipping, lucky for both of us. But afterward we talked about it. We both knew we’d been caught in no man’s land for a split second, and how lucky we didn't go into a skid and lay down the bikes with a nasty tumble.

These scary little traps, as Marc experienced, pop up out of nowhere, and  will throw you off your bike before you know what happened. But once you’ve taken un unexpected toss off the bike, as Marc will tell you, you REMEMBER what caused it! Because you’re not too anxious to have it happen again and you definitely want to avoid it. 
That’s why even riding over uncovered planks with exposed gaps gave Marc the willies as he rode over the bridge. Keep those wheels from slotting into those gaps, he told himself. Because if you don’t, the bike stops and you won’t. You'll fly through the air with the greatest of unease and land somewhere on the ground – probably on something hard. Like asphalt.
Yes, he remembered. But it's key to remember before you get into no man's land, so you don't repeat painful mistakes.

Meanwhile, sand, just like leaves on the road, also make it slick, the equivalent of many ball-bearings on a hard floor. Sand often gets spread over roads after a rain, the leftover of runoff water. It will cause most road bike tires riding over them on a curve at high speed, to do one thing: Slip!

So whether it be leaves, pine needles, sand in the road or wood-plank gaps on bridges, keep your eyes peeled, stay upright, and keep rolling!

Speaking of avoiding falls, here’s one road bike rider who isn’t fazed by any surface challenges: Meet Martyn Ashton. Check out the road bike handling skills of this guy! Probably unwise to try any of these moves:

Watching this one question occurred to me: How many times did Martyn have to fall off his bike to master these moves? Apparently not enough to keep him off his bike. Wow! Thanks, Martyn.

So until next time, especially all you riders and all people that have been hit hard by Hurricane Sandy, hang in there, we’re all pulling for you. Just remember everybody, always strap on a helmet before every ride. And then, do whatever it takes at all times, to keep the rubber side down!

-- Mark Eric Larson

Mark Eric Larson has written two books of essays, "The NERVE...of Some People's Kids," and "Don't Force it, Get a Bigger Hammer. To read, visit: 
http://www.scribd.com/Mark%20Eric%20Larson/shelf