Mama is on the plane to Vegas, we had Cheerios and cheese for dinner, and Noah is chomping to get on the track.
Reanie took to riding the tricycle properly (she could pedal before, but much like her Daddy's attempt at racing bikes, she was only going backwards). By 'properly,' I mean that she pedals, goes in a forward direction, and steers to avoid things she means to avoid and hit things, like her baby brother, she means to hit.
Noah crushed the Sunday ride on Sunday. He made it over Wichita Trail, Shiloh, and the Bartonville hill under his own power (no pushes). He was gapped on Wichita Trail and Shiloh, but he got back on under his own power. His undoing was the long, straight, flat section on 407. The group was riding 27 or so (tamer than normal), but he was just plain spun out in his biggest gear of 44x13. He was also dealing with a couple of guys who were dangling off the back. One was getting dropped, and the other didn't realize that there was a kid he was taking off the back when he'd coast, stretch, and sprint back on.
Now I realize, and I've prepared Noah that when the hot dog racers return that we probably won't make it over Wichita Trail with the group for awhile. But he's up for trying. He's really looking forward to racing on the track. Hope the track up here offers a separate race for the junior/youth. Otherwise it looks like we head to Houston to throw down with their youngsters program.
Buddy can't ride a bike, but any time someone rides down our road (which is a lot), he says, "Daddy." I'm pretty sure he means that the cyclists remind him of Daddy, not that all of those riders are his Daddy.
Monday, February 28, 2005
Monday, February 21, 2005
Eating Meat With Your Hands
Noah and I did the Sunday ride this past weekend. While we had done it together before, that had been on the tandem. This was his first time on his own bike.
We rolled from the house and put in some warm up miles before meeting up with the group in Lewisville. I gave him only the essential information of what to expect on the ride, as I didn't want to overload his processor and have him crash his hard drive or anything else.
The plan was to do the "neutral" eight or so miles until the Taco Bell in Flower Mound (Taco Bell in Flower Mound Taco Bell in Flower Mound Taco Bell in Flower Mound) and then sit up and ride our own pace home. That'd give us about 20 miles on the day. I knew that a lot of the hammer dogs were away racing, so I was sort of gambling that the ride would be pretty easy until Taco Bell in Flower Mound. Turned out just fine. Instead of rolling at 20-21, we rolled at 16-18, which is a good pace for Noah.
We stayed pretty near the back, and for the most part, the only folks around us are fairly tight friends of mine, so they wouldn't bother to say anything unless it was encouraging.
Of course, there were a handful of guys, who I don't know at all and scarcely recognize them, who made sure to give Noah all kinds of advice. "Point your elbows out." "Pedal with your ankles in." "Find a gear that allows you to pedal 100rpms." "Blah blah." "Blah blah bladdity blah blah."
Just let the kid ride. He isn't in your way. He's just nine years old for crissakes. He's 100 lbs riding a 25 lbs bike at 18 mph behind guys who are just barely less squirrely than himself. STFU.
The only tough part Noah faced in the first handful of miles was when we turned off of Morriss Rd on to whatever road it is we turn on to when we turn off Morriss Rd. At that point, there was the typical acceleration out of the corner, which stretches things out a bit, but then the guys in front sit down and it bunches all up again. If you are near the front, it doesn't feel like anything. If you are near the back, then you have to sort of sprint, then cruise, then coast, then hit your brakes. For Noah, that sprint to 25mph to get on the group was kinda tough, but he made it without too much fuss. Writing about it makes it sound like it was more than it was.
The next thing was to get on 2499 and ride by the grocery store. A few guys peeled off for a piss stop, and one guy nearly chopped Noah's front wheel, because he didn't even bother to signal that he was turning right. I told Noah that you can almost predict when certain things will happen in a pack, but it is very rare to predict when an adult male's bladder will be so full 8 miles into a ride that he can't bother to say, "I'm turning here." But like I said above, we were riding in the back of the group amongst guys who a barely better skilled riders than Noah.
We make the turn and roll by the Taco Bell. Noah doesn't realize we past the Taco Bell, so we stick with the group. The pace picks up, but it isn't anything brutal. Maybe 20mph or so, and Noah lets a few bike lengths open up a few times, but he manages to close it each time.
Then we get to Wichita Trail. Without me saying anything, he worked his way up to the front half of the group. This helped him get half way up the hill before losing contact with the back of the group. I gave him just enough of a push that he could catch back up, if he worked hard. And he kept working hard. Real hard. He'd get 15-20 yards from the back, and I'd make him finish it off. He'd blow a bit, and I'd help him get close. Repeat that a few times.
By this point Hassan and Kuithe are riding along with us. Keep in mind that we are hovering 15-40 yards off the back for a couple miles. Noah ultimately regains contact just as we hit the bottom of the hill on Shiloh. Ouch.
Hassan helps pace Noah along, and we all catch up at the light at 1171, just as it turns green. Noah hangs with the group down McMakin, and his face his turning a nice shade of red at his extended effort. I start prepping him that we need to get over the hill with the Bartonville city limit sign and that after that, we'll be going fast, but he'll be able to sit on.
But as we approached Hawk Rd, Noah asked where the Taco Bell was.
I told him we passed it quite awhile earlier, and he asked if we could ride easy for a bit. "Sure we can. You did a great job."
We turned left and made the .5 mile cool down to the house. It was awesome.
That was one of my best days ever. Certainly one of my best days on a bike.
Now, what fuels the fire and feeds the hunger is that there were a couple of guys on the ride that were idiots. One said that Noah was "unsafe," and he said it where Noah could hear it. Nice. We're at the back or two or three people from the back, and the group is rolling at 18mph. If you are worried about being near Noah, fart, and that should move you up a spot or two.
Another guy said something along the same lines, but he meant it more as a slam on me, since "The Coach" can't even coach his own son. That kind of thing.
Wait until Noah is eleven and dropping both of your asses.
Some folks are just idiots. Seems cycling has more than its fair share.
If you ride with Noah, he knows he's having a tough time keeping that front wheel pointed straight. Part of it is his size. Part of it is his lack of experience. Part of it is that he's darn near or considerably anaerobic, even when we are just cruising around. Part of it is simply a bike adjustment thing--I can't seem to get his headset just right...it is either too tight or too loose, but we'll get it sorted before his next group ride. Part of it is that aside from his races that have 6-10 people and break up 50 yards from the start, he just hasn't done much in the way of riding in the group. Part of it is that he's just 9yrs old. He gets distracted by things like a can in the road or a kid on the sidewalk riding a scooter, or a donut shop.
We had to start somewhere.
ggg
We rolled from the house and put in some warm up miles before meeting up with the group in Lewisville. I gave him only the essential information of what to expect on the ride, as I didn't want to overload his processor and have him crash his hard drive or anything else.
The plan was to do the "neutral" eight or so miles until the Taco Bell in Flower Mound (Taco Bell in Flower Mound Taco Bell in Flower Mound Taco Bell in Flower Mound) and then sit up and ride our own pace home. That'd give us about 20 miles on the day. I knew that a lot of the hammer dogs were away racing, so I was sort of gambling that the ride would be pretty easy until Taco Bell in Flower Mound. Turned out just fine. Instead of rolling at 20-21, we rolled at 16-18, which is a good pace for Noah.
We stayed pretty near the back, and for the most part, the only folks around us are fairly tight friends of mine, so they wouldn't bother to say anything unless it was encouraging.
Of course, there were a handful of guys, who I don't know at all and scarcely recognize them, who made sure to give Noah all kinds of advice. "Point your elbows out." "Pedal with your ankles in." "Find a gear that allows you to pedal 100rpms." "Blah blah." "Blah blah bladdity blah blah."
Just let the kid ride. He isn't in your way. He's just nine years old for crissakes. He's 100 lbs riding a 25 lbs bike at 18 mph behind guys who are just barely less squirrely than himself. STFU.
The only tough part Noah faced in the first handful of miles was when we turned off of Morriss Rd on to whatever road it is we turn on to when we turn off Morriss Rd. At that point, there was the typical acceleration out of the corner, which stretches things out a bit, but then the guys in front sit down and it bunches all up again. If you are near the front, it doesn't feel like anything. If you are near the back, then you have to sort of sprint, then cruise, then coast, then hit your brakes. For Noah, that sprint to 25mph to get on the group was kinda tough, but he made it without too much fuss. Writing about it makes it sound like it was more than it was.
The next thing was to get on 2499 and ride by the grocery store. A few guys peeled off for a piss stop, and one guy nearly chopped Noah's front wheel, because he didn't even bother to signal that he was turning right. I told Noah that you can almost predict when certain things will happen in a pack, but it is very rare to predict when an adult male's bladder will be so full 8 miles into a ride that he can't bother to say, "I'm turning here." But like I said above, we were riding in the back of the group amongst guys who a barely better skilled riders than Noah.
We make the turn and roll by the Taco Bell. Noah doesn't realize we past the Taco Bell, so we stick with the group. The pace picks up, but it isn't anything brutal. Maybe 20mph or so, and Noah lets a few bike lengths open up a few times, but he manages to close it each time.
Then we get to Wichita Trail. Without me saying anything, he worked his way up to the front half of the group. This helped him get half way up the hill before losing contact with the back of the group. I gave him just enough of a push that he could catch back up, if he worked hard. And he kept working hard. Real hard. He'd get 15-20 yards from the back, and I'd make him finish it off. He'd blow a bit, and I'd help him get close. Repeat that a few times.
By this point Hassan and Kuithe are riding along with us. Keep in mind that we are hovering 15-40 yards off the back for a couple miles. Noah ultimately regains contact just as we hit the bottom of the hill on Shiloh. Ouch.
Hassan helps pace Noah along, and we all catch up at the light at 1171, just as it turns green. Noah hangs with the group down McMakin, and his face his turning a nice shade of red at his extended effort. I start prepping him that we need to get over the hill with the Bartonville city limit sign and that after that, we'll be going fast, but he'll be able to sit on.
But as we approached Hawk Rd, Noah asked where the Taco Bell was.
I told him we passed it quite awhile earlier, and he asked if we could ride easy for a bit. "Sure we can. You did a great job."
We turned left and made the .5 mile cool down to the house. It was awesome.
That was one of my best days ever. Certainly one of my best days on a bike.
Now, what fuels the fire and feeds the hunger is that there were a couple of guys on the ride that were idiots. One said that Noah was "unsafe," and he said it where Noah could hear it. Nice. We're at the back or two or three people from the back, and the group is rolling at 18mph. If you are worried about being near Noah, fart, and that should move you up a spot or two.
Another guy said something along the same lines, but he meant it more as a slam on me, since "The Coach" can't even coach his own son. That kind of thing.
Wait until Noah is eleven and dropping both of your asses.
Some folks are just idiots. Seems cycling has more than its fair share.
If you ride with Noah, he knows he's having a tough time keeping that front wheel pointed straight. Part of it is his size. Part of it is his lack of experience. Part of it is that he's darn near or considerably anaerobic, even when we are just cruising around. Part of it is simply a bike adjustment thing--I can't seem to get his headset just right...it is either too tight or too loose, but we'll get it sorted before his next group ride. Part of it is that aside from his races that have 6-10 people and break up 50 yards from the start, he just hasn't done much in the way of riding in the group. Part of it is that he's just 9yrs old. He gets distracted by things like a can in the road or a kid on the sidewalk riding a scooter, or a donut shop.
We had to start somewhere.
ggg
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