Just want to give a shout out to the guy in the Slipstream jersey who took turns pulling with me down Moore road on my ride home Friday night. I was grinding out the last few miles of my longer commute when I came upon two riders ahead of me. I caught them and enjoyed a little pull up the road until it was safe to pass them. A few seconds after I went by, the lead rider of the two caught me and moved in front of me so we traded pulls for a few miles which really made the ride easier. After a quick nod and "good work" he dropped back, I assume to wait for his buddy while I continued on the long, gradual descent down Thornydale to home with a satisfied smile on my face. . .
Saturday found me knocking out some of my "honey-do" list and just generally being lazy. Two movie night, Role Models (hilarious) and Milk (not hilarious, though well acted). The only effort I put into my riding, was getting everything ready for the long ride on Sunday.
Sunday dawned bright, and I found myself chomping at the bit to ride. So out to Willow Springs for a couple of laps around the 24 Hour course. Halfway around the first lap, I tried to unclip to open one of the cattle gates, couldn't get my right foot out and went down hard on my right forearm. After several minutes of cussing and kicking at the ground, I inspected my pedal and found that it essentially had imploded. Two of the four fixing bolts that connect the cage to the spindle had come out, both on the same side causing a catastrophic failure. I was able to remove the cleat anchor and hold the pedal together with some wire that I found near the gate. When I finished the first lap, I was able to use the lug wrench from my car to bend the cage back to its mostly normal shape. Then used one of the four fixing bolts from the other pedal to hold everything together, minus the cleat anchor.
As a result, I rode my second lap half clipped-in and half out, which wasn't bad until I nearly busted a nut negotiating a sketchy section of trail when my non-clipped foot slipped off the pedal and I came down hard on the saddle followed by some more of the aforementioned cussing . . .
I managed to ride my four plus hours, singlespeed no less, and felt really good. Had plenty of leg left to keep going and I may have if I had two fully functional pedals but with the recent nut-busting still etched in my mind, I felt it better to leave well enough alone and call it a day.
On my second lap, I saw two rattlesnakes; one about a three footer crossing the trail that got kind of pissed when I came near, he curled and rattled as I gave him a wide girth. Then I saw just the tail end of another, as he cruised into the underbrush alongside the trail and he was a monster. His rattle alone was at least three of four inches long. If you are riding in Southern Arizona beware, they are out and about . . .
Starting to feel optimistic about the upcoming race, I think I'm almost ready.
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