More here.

After another long ass talk with my dad a couple of days ago, it occurred to me that I really am not ready for children of my own.  I was listening to KFOG’s morning show yesterday and they were talking about kids vs. no kids.  More specifically, Renee’s recent marriage has become a battleground of questions from people close to her who keep inquiring about the possibility of children.

Regardless of what her situation is, her choice is not to have them, either for now or ever.  I happen to agree on this, quite strongly.

People look upon those who have no children to be handicap in a certain way.  I think this is a very limited point of view, not to mention selfish and inconsiderate of those who they are attacking with their questions.  Yes!  I said attacking!  Assuming that just because a couple doesn’t have kids is because of a medical condition is ridiculous, and sounds quite uneducated to me.  For example, Lisa’s grandmother keeps nagging her about fertility rituals.  I find that offensive, personally.  I think she’s the only one that shall get away with that kind of talk too.

I don’t know where this societal ‘norm’ came from.  Perhaps it dates back to our evolutionary nature: we must procreate, the meaning of life.  But we’re not animals.  We’re not an endangered species.  There’s little reason to breed in this day and age.

We have plenty of people doing that for us already.

Perhaps it gets traced back to our religious roots.  I just don’t know.

The conversation with my dad showed that he’s ready to leave his new children and come ‘take care of my children.’  Let’s think about that for a while: a daughter that’s 15, and a son who’s 8.  I think he’ll be plenty busy for a long time to come.  No jumping ship for him.  I am not going to an accomplice of abandonment.  If the road gets rough, you have to keep rolling through.  You can’t ‘change lanes’ and hope that a better side of the road will let you get through easily.  No, he’s staying in Ecuador as far as I’m concerned, until his children can support themselves, and then we’ll talk.

To me, that is a great responsibility.  People who have children only to ‘breed’ and contaminate the gene pool should just keep breeding and keep their breeder comments to themselves.  As humans, we have a responsibility to bring our children into the best possible world we can.  If we cannot do it within our means, then we shouldn’t.  Period.

Before I get to the ride report, I should mention Saturday’s extra-terrestrial experience. I think Flash might appreciate it.

If you’ve been to Laguna Seca, you know it’s kind of a mudpit when it’s wet, and a dustbowl when it’s dry. Well, on Saturday it was definitely the latter. Some of the highlights:

• High winds all day created lasting dust storms that covered everyone, and I mean everyone in dust. There was no hiding from this Martian landscape-like event. The winds picked up anything on the ground, including bikes, tents, and sometimes even yours truly, and knocked them to the ground handily without a second thought. Try to imagine 10,000$ bikes getting knocked to the ground, as fresh carbon gives a resounding crack!! as it hits the floor. Toothjarring to say the least.
• The dust storms created hazards for the road race, as a cloud of dust swept across the track (by the start/finish line, where we were standing) and covered the riders. Oftentimes they would disappear in a cloud, and reappear with a great loss of speed. However, I’m surprised there were no crashes involved during the time we were observing.
• The wind picked up a very large (maybe about 40 foot tall) blow up slide and toppled it over, flipped it a couple of times, and caused it to crash into the fence next to the track. I thought it would have jumped the fence had the wind given it a little bit of a nudge to get it over. This happened during the road race, and yes, it covered the track in dust. Later that day we learned that there were kids inside. I’m sure they had the time of their lives.
• If you’ve always wondered what the surface of Mars looks like on a good day, come by Laguna Seca.

On to the ride report for Sunday.

I now know we underestimated this beast from the start. Initially, I was going to do this solo, on my 585. I was meeting with a couple of friends from Canada who come down once a year for this event, and ride with them. However, after Lisa asked if she could ride with me, how could I refuse??? In any case, it turned out to be a bigger deal than I had given myself to believe.

It was a chilly morning, temps in the low 30s. We started 7am sharp …. and flatted out on mile 2. Our friends left with the main group, and it was a good thing, because it was going to take around a half-hour to fix this beeatch of a flat. Anyway, after 2 tubes and a very good mechanic helping us, we were underway. However, losing the main group became a larger loss to me as the ride progressed. The anticipated coastal tailwind was nowhere in sight as we began the ride, and did not appear until just before we turned back west towards the mountains, during which it became a headwind. Great timing.

The ride advertises 7000+ feet of climbing. No joke. The second rest area was out of bread (a key ingredient before a long ride segment). On the climb to the summit of Cahoon Pass, I bonked. I tried eating the energy bars that we brought with us, but it did not relieve the aching feeling on my legs, tired from the hammering from earlier on the flats (no paceline means … well, you know … more on this later). By the time I got to the Cahoon summit, I threw in the towel. Despite there being plenty of good food at the top, PB&J and even my favorite Red Vines (Lisa learned that I’m addicted to Red Vines today), I couldn’t get my legs back, and I think part of the blame goes to the cold and wind. Can you picture yourself being Lisa and hearing my whinning through the whole climb!!??? Good grief … at least the ‘Whine’ Country Century there is at least reason to whine all you want. Lisa was also complaining of a stiff right knee–another reason for me to call in the SAG van to pick us up.

Not.

The lady said she couldn’t fit our tandem in the van. Well, that settled that. This is mile 66.

Lisa said we need to go. By now we’re the last ones on the course. We dressed up as warmly as possible, for I knew the DH would be torture. A fast, freezing, and steep descent later, reaching 42 mph at one point into a headwind, we passed around 10 people before we arrived in Carmel Valley Village and the Laureles Lodge, the last rest stop before the true climb of the day, the Laureles Grade.

We asked again if we could be driven to the finish. I felt better now than I did on the Cahoon climb, but not enough to tackle another 1200 feet at 10%+. Imagine the length of Tunnel Rd but with the steepness of upper Pinehurst, plus heavy traffic. This is mile 85. We were graciously picked up by a gentleman from Spokane who was volunteering for the event. We handily placed the tandem in the van and drove up the Laureles Grade.

Wow.

I commend those who refused sag support and worked that hill after 85 miles. It is truly an achievement to be proud of. End of the day, only 8 people were sagged to the finish, including us.

We learned a great deal from this ride. One of those is that we are truly leisure, recreational riders who have no time management skills of any kind. At least, when it comes to a cut-off time (2pm @ mile 85, we got there at 300pm). When we got back, it was 415pm, and the vendors had already packed up most of their stuff and we didn’t even get a free dinner from the ride. I am also humbled by those who made the time cut-off and were able to make it back all 94 miles (this is not a true century, but may be tougher than the WCC double metric). We also learned that we need to really eat during the ride, and I mean during. If we stop and we eat, it’s time wasted. It was almost like a race, to me. Not very enjoyable if you try to beat the cut-off time. Maybe that’s why I try not to do organized rides like these.

We also learned the value of pacelining. Without the energy-saving opportunity to paceline a large group, we were left to fend for ourselves during the first 50 miles. Had we been a part of a large pack, I think we could have saved at least 30 minutes on the Cahoon Pass because I would have been fresh and ready. The Cahoon Pass is 11 miles (I think) of very scenic, farmed countryside, and the wildflowers were blooming bright purple and yellow everywhere. Beauty that we may have missed had we attempted to beat the cut-off time. I won’t know, at least until next year when we attempt it again. Even the cows looked great!

More Pics here.

I received my new HRM last week, but didn’t get to install it until this past weekend. My expectations would be:

• HRM transmitter reliability
• Speed/Cadence transmitter reliability
• User friendliness

Coming from CatEye, I knew that the last item wouldn’t be an issue. The main reason why I decided to go with CatEye instead of the more popular Polar HRMs was because of the available user-serviceable parts. Polar doesn’t give the owner the ability to change the battery on the heart rate transmitter, for example. One has to send the chest strap back to Polar and wait 3 weeks for the turnaround to occur.

Features that stand out on this unit include:

• Lap timer
• 99 performance files can be saved
• Countdown distance
• Calorie count
• 4 heart rate zones with audible alarm
• Heart rate strap does not slip with time

The lap timer is handy for impromptu measurements during a ride that should not interfere with the overall distance measurement. For example, a major climb during a long ride should be measured by itself. The unit will save the data once the climb is complete, for a later review.

The file feature is used every time the current distance is reset. The previous measured data is automatically saved, and up to 99 files can be stored before the memory has to be purged.

Countdown distance is a very useful tool when you need to know how much farther you need to go before you can get lunch. ^_^

The calorie counter is quite handy to measure how much you’ve burned based on heart rate alone.

I haven’t had much of a chance to really test out the zones yet. The first time I had a run-in with this feature was actually a problem. Hopefully I will learn to use this feature in the future.

One of the biggest problems I had with the Polar was the heart rate sensor strap. The unit kept slipping below my chest line, and would feel awkward after an extended ride time. The CatEye seems to have fixed this issue, as the sensor itself is quite frictional, even after the elastic part has slipped blow my chestline, the front side holds its place.

Every cyclocomputer has some kind of issue. Whether it’d be technical, user interface, or just human error, there is no perfect computer out there. The V3 is no exception. However, compared to the Polar I had tested out a few times previously, this HRM is much easier to use, more intuitive, and has a better screen layout.

• Auto mode
• Power save fuction
• Mount direction
• Total distance view

The first two major issues are correlated. The auto-mode function is similar to all other CatEye computers I’ve owned: the unit wakes from sleep mode if the transmitter detects the magnet from either the wheel or crank, and starts the measurement automatically. However, the power save function seems to negate this benefit: by going into power save, each transmitter literally ‘dies’ and does not wake up unless I press any button on the computer. To make it worse, sleep mode comes just 5 minutes after stopping. I’ve only had 2 rides with the V3, so perhaps I have some more to learn, but so far, I’ve lost a few miles because the thing shuts down automatically and stops measuring without warning.

I’m not sure whether this is intended behavior. The manual barely warns of the problem, yet doesn’t go into details about how to solve this if encountered. Refer to page 5 of the manual. Maybe CatEye needs to extend the power save timeout.

The computer mounts from the right, whereas the Strada series mount from the front. This means that to swap between two bikes with one Strada and one V3, it becomes a mount switcheroo as well, and not just the unit.

The total distance view issue is more of a documentation problem rather than design. The counter gives an impression that it measures down to the hundredth of a mile/km at first glance, because the ones and tens units are a smaller font than the other units. Had the documentation (manual) mentioned this, it would have saved some confusion on my part. Otherwise, once the right mileage is set in, it measures down to the tenth of a mile/km.

The V3 doesn’t offer an altimeter. In fact, no CatEye HRMs offer this feature, so a separate altimeter is required by those who need this feature. CatEye got away with not raising the price over the old HR200DW is by outsourcing their manufacturing to China, where just about everyone else is making their instruments. So far, the unit seems to be very well built, sturdy, and clean. The case seems cheap, but almost all cyclocomputers look like this nowadays (with the exception of the Strada line, which is still made in Japan). I’ve dropped this unit a few times on hardwood floor and carpet already, and so far it has held up well.

All in all, the V3 is a much more complex cyclocomputer than any of the other CatEye units I’ve owned. When compared to the Polar I tried out (a basic wrist unit, worth about $60, I don’t have the model name), this unit is much better in the user interface department. The mount is a world apart as it is slimmer and feels rock-solid. If I can get used to the power-save feature/problem, this is a keeper.

I hadn’t heard from my dad in years. Last time I got an email from him was probably one or two years ago, but it didn’t contain anything memorable. Frankly, I don’t even remember what he said. Lisa always asks me, “what are you going to say to him when you finally meet him?” Well, that’s for me to find out and for you to keep asking .

I received an email from him last night, and it was definitely more memorable than what he sent last time. In the text, it sounds to me like he’s blaming the world for his lot in life; a bitter old man who has lived a life full of regrets and mistakes. I honestly can’t imagine how someone can live like that.

I’d like to believe that I knew someone who lived with such regrets. But looking back, to me, it seems like I’m the one with the regrets. It just goes to show how important people around me are, and how much they affect me. It’s vital to keep those who are important to me close by, otherwise, things can turn ugly.

When my family was still together, I can remember my dad being a proud man who had vision, who knew what was right for us. He was morally enlightened. But people change over time, just like everything else, things change. Maybe it was the monotony, maybe it was one too many beers, maybe it was the company he kept. Whatever it may have been, he started making decisions that did not benefit us directly. He believed in something that my mom disagreed with. And when beliefs come into play, you can bet it becomes a shouting match! I don’t think he did what he did out of malice, and I don’t think they separated because of any one mistake or reason. I guess that’s for them to know, and for me to interpret.

His hate is so deep, so dark, that even though he calls himself a Christian, he can’t forgive those who are his own family. I’m not sure why he sees everything that way. He blames my uncle (who lives there and is practically his only familiar connection to me), my aunt, my mom, and even me.

On the brighter side, he seems to have found his purpose again.  I hear he’s a minister now, doing what he’s always loved to do.  He really hasn’t changed much, to tell the truth, because I remember he was always lecturing me about morals and Christianity.  That’s what he did best!  I’m glad he found a career that he truly enjoys.  From what mom told me about him, he never really enjoyed working as a clothing designer/tailor.  She called him irresponsible; I’d like to think of it as unmotivated.  I think we’ve all been there, a wrong choice in careers; it just hurts that it cost us our family for him to realize that.

If Lisa asks me again about what I’m going to talk to my dad with, I know what I have to do.

I’ve got a nice long list of places I want to travel to, but I wonder when it’ll happen? Places I’d like to see:

Tibet Autonomous Region & Sagarmatha (summer?)
Kathmandu, Nepal
Xinjiang Uyghur A.R. & Takla Makan Desert (Luntai) (early spring)
Great Wall of China
Forbidden City
Paris, France
Swiss and Italian Alps
Tokyo, Japan
Venice, Italy
Great Barrier Reef, Australia
Dettifoss Waterfall, Iceland (spring)
Guam & the Challenger Deep (mid to late winter)
Kingdom of Tonga, in Polynesia
The Autobahn in Germany
Seoul, South Korea
Christmas Island (both of them)
St. Petersburg, Russia
The Stairway of the Gods, Sri Lanka
Vancouver, BC, Canada
Yukon Territory, Alaska (summer)
Hong Kong & Macau (fall through spring)
Isla Darwin, Galapagos, Ecuador
New York, New York
Las Vegas, NV
Cedar Grove, CA
Pisa, Italy
Bodie, CA

Happy New Year!!!

I know I haven’t done much on the blog, but a lot sure has happened since the last time I posted.  Here’s a review I did for our newest bike (yes, another one) on teamalameda.com forums.

I’m still debating on a name. Flash’s ‘U-Boat’ may stick …

We weren’t sure whether to leave the house today because the ground was still wet. Besides, a first flight on such an epic ride may have proved too much for this newbie couple. However, I’m glad we did because I believe we worked out a serious bug in the build: the tyres had to go. After flatting twice on the same tyre, I concluded that Continental cannot make a decent tyre (I know there’s a few Conti fans here, forgive me). Anyway, this was the only bug we’ve found so far.

I’m not sure if this is what steel feels like, but if it is, it is absolutely fabulous!!! Perhaps it’s the extra length and weight of the entire bike, but the vibration dampening is probably 10x better than the 585. I had the tyres pumped to 130 psi front/rear, but the ride itself was soft; it almost felt like we were gliding on air. We were running 700×23c tyres after the switchout, but they felt better than the original 700×28c pair. Positive tracking, less ‘mushiness’ especially when accelerating and cornering, but rode softer. Weird, huh?

I also realized how strong Lisa really is. Brian & Geoff, if you’re reading this, you must forgive us for attacking you on Lake Chabot Rd. I think Lisa had always wanted to attack and win for once. Because the bike is so much more efficient, both in road dynamics and gearing, Lisa was able to really put the power down on the rear wheel. I was truly impressed as to how long she could maintain her efforts. You never really know how strong your partner is until you’ve been powered by her. She said that because she no longer needs to worry about controlling the bike, she can concentrate on pedaling and husband-whipping.

Downhilling proved challenging, at best. I’ve always considered downhilling to be my personal weakness, but on a bike that I’m unfamiliar with, it becomes dangerous and intimidating. The ride down Lake Chabot Rd hit 30mph, but it didn’t feel like the 585. In fact, it didn’t feel stable. Definitely something to work on.

The experience itself is like learning to ride a bike for the first time. The joy of accomplishment is shared by both people, and on the way home, we wished it wouldn’t end. We rode around the block a few times before calling it quits.

Pics here.

… and today was mine. I haven’t felt this good in a month! 75+ miles with more than 6000 feet of total climbing, I felt I was the strongest in a large group of 40+ people (most of whom didn’t do the entire 75 miles). The Fat Lady (yes, that’s her name now) performed admirably. I believe the last time I felt this good was on that beautiful second day of the Monterey Tour last July 2nd. I did 80+ miles that day, fully loaded. I may be about 80 pounds lighter today, but I think it was rewarding nonetheless.

The Fat Lady’s name stems from her characteristic ’singing’ (yes, I hear voices in my head when I ride … sheesh!) when cruising at speeds above 40 mph, and when I brake hard into a corner. Remembering Wagner’s trademark ‘fat lady’ opera singers, I felt that the name was quite appropriate.

Today’s ride made me feel more comfortable with the handling of the bicycle, and further familiarized myself with the gearing difference from Mellow Yellow’s triple crankset. I feel that the compact double allows for a wider range of available gears than a 42/25 combination allowed (I seldom used the third 30-tooth chainring on the triple). It is also a simpler design with less gears to fuss with. Initially, I could not appreciate the stable handling of the new bike, but after a few miles, I must admit, this is the best ride I’ve ever owned.

The newest addition to the family. I just need to find a name for it. (It’s the one on the left)

After reading next month’s Bicycling magazine’s broomwagon article about kids commuting, it gives me a deep sense of nostalgia. It reminds me of my own childhood riding to school after I moved to the States and my grandma had given me some money to buy a Toys R Us bicycle. I even remember the brand: Huffy. It was a piece of shit, but black, and got me to school and back home. I really enjoyed it until I got hit by a truck. The wheel was tacoed and I totaled the bike. I then got another one from the insurance payoff, and enjoyed riding again. But had I ridden faster, I wouldn’t have gotten it jacked by two overweight Mexicans. Hey, when they threaten to stab you, you give them your bike!

On the eve of my acquiring another bike (because my beloved Mellow Yellow was–you guessed it–stolen), it feels good to reminisce about the past and how I’ve always enjoyed riding to work/school, even if there are better ways to go (like driving).

I prefer to brave danger at every corner, negotiate tight traffic jams, and waving with a smile to other cycle-commuters on the road. I don’t care if they ride with or against traffic, wear a helmet, or even wave back. I always try to wave and smile, as long as it is safe.

Age has also taught me to obey traffic rules. The problem with weekend group rides is that you’re caught up in this huge peer group, with peer pressure and everything, and if the ride leader runs a red light, you’re forced to run it as well, or get dropped. When I commute, I have no such pressure. It is me, and the road, and traffic. I enjoy the ride more, I admit, although I try not to stay out long. I still ride on the weekends, and I rather ride with others, but that is just one of the issues that I tend to ignore.

My new ride I’m getting is quite different from what I’ve owned up to this point. It may be considered the most comfortable ride yet.

I really believe that comfort is the most important quality that a bicycle should have. Even if it weighs close to 100 lbs with all sorts of camping gear, if it’s comfortable, there is nowhere that I can’t get to on two wheels and two legs.