2013 Stagecoach 400: Part II The darkest hour

Day 3: Sunday morning. 280 km out of 600 km left, so I've done a little more than half of the distance. I planned on doing the second half in one throughride, expecting to need somewhere between 25 and 30 hours. Most of the climbing is still to come, probably about 6000 m, and they are concentrated in the last third of the ride, but in contrast to the first half, almost all of those 280 km are rideable.

I was up at about 5, nice cool temperatures and fog. I feel much better in that climate and knew that I would have a good morning.

Sweetwater Reservoir

Bugs do like that climate better than the desert as well, so I had to shake a bunch earwigs out of my sleeping bag. My left-over pizza, although in a plastic bag, in my backpack, and on the table (not left on the ground) was taken over by them as well. Quite the party on the table, big caterpillars, a few big hairy ones, lots of earwigs, and a bunch of others.

So my breakfast had to wait, but I was just 2 hours away from downtown San Diego. While I think of the route of rolling into San Diego from the east, the route actually is further south (Chula Vista and National City) and even by the time it hits San Diego Bay, it still is just 10 miles to Tijuana.

I enjoyed riding the last little sections of single track around Sweetwater Reservoir, but the route quickly becomes urban, although still on trails away from roads. Then from the San Diego Bay on, it is on streets. A little bit after 7, I was in a cafe in Little Italy.

Foggy morning at Sunset Cliffs

Riding through San Diego early on a Sunday morning isn't bad at all, although it probably would annoy me at other times. It has its own charms as an interlude between the remote parts of the ride.

The SC 400 takes you through through the convention center area, downtown, past Little Italy, through the Sunset Cliffs neighborhood, around Sea World and Mission Bay, and even on a campus tour of UC San Diego. And at the end, a quick side trip through the Torrey Pines Preserve instead rolling down a 4-lane highway. Pretty cool for an urban ride.

Overall, the ride through San Diego is more bike friendly than this sign and section would indicate (near Sea World):

 

20 meter of bike path to lead you smack into a signpost (no bikepath afterwards)

I stoppped at UC San Diego for an early lunch, there is a nice eatery near the economics dept. So if you see economics dept on the right, stop right afterwards at the cafeteria. Best burrito on the trip. Real meals are served starting at 10.30 (I waited around for a few minutes) including Sundays (it was Sunday), coffee is available earlier. Given that I was in the urban area by 5.30 or so and this is the end, the total urban San Diego time came to about 5 hours.

UC San Diego

Now comes the biggest surprise: Great riding through suburbia.  San Diego is surrounded by suburban hell for many miles. Countless big developments, all cul-de-sacced with huge artery roads as the only entries/exits and connectors. Until last year, I had very low expectations for gettting out of San Diego, but surprise: We are largely off-pavement and on great trails to boot. 

Between all those developments is lots of open space. The tricky part is finding it because the developers and/or residents are not trying to make it accessible. Some individual loops are well known, e.g. the Tunnels (officially: Del Mar Mesa Preserve), which is a nice flowing single track in an overgrown canyon, but mapping out a long-distance trail is brilliant. Eventually, there may be an official long-distance trail which is the goal of the San Dieguito River Park, but the existing sections don't connect (although the SC 400 route creates those connections). 

The Tunnels

After the Tunnels comes a good example of why you'd never find a good route on your own. The Tunnels section ends at a gas station, which also marks the beginning of a big suburban road, many huge intersections with long waits at traffic lights, shopping center. But just for a short distance, you make a sudden left turn, into a cul-de-sac and take it to the end. No signs, looks all like private driveways and a dead-end, yet there is a gate that takes you out into the next open space area. Around there is where I saw the biggest rattlesnake in a long time: 

It started getting uncomfortably hot again, definitely leaving the cool ocean breeze behind, but it was nice riding. I could feel getting brain fry setting in again. My rear brake didn't work very well, squealing loudly, but hardly any breaking power. The pads weren't worn down, but washing it out or trying to roughen the surface with a bit of sand grinding didn't help. Maybe I overheated on the long descents yesterday and damaged the pads, but the brake needed work. But even in the shade, it took me several minutes to to take the rear wheel out and change the brake pads, being as clumsy as if I had never done that before. I was overheated myself. But I managed without losing parts and eventually had a reliable rear brake again. And sitting in the shade for a while was good, too.   

Many tight switchbacks, but I rode them better this time than ever before

There is the memorable switchback section which connects (after a climb) with the singletrack section around Lake Hodges and, after going under I-15, the San Pasqual Valley trails. I stopped for an early dinner at Panera Bread for a salmon salad and a sandwich for the rest of the ride and filled up on Pepsi. Panera's  sandwiches are mediocre and overpriced, but it still beats gas station food. Obin and I were disappointed with their food last year when we ate there (we rode in the San Pasqual Valley). The salad was good, though. By this time, I was a few hours ahead of my time last year and on target to finish in under 3 days/72 hours. Especially since I felt better than last year when stopping here and even then I had a fun ride through the night. And it is only 100 miles back to Idyllwild from here, although almost half the climbing of the total ride may still be ahead. I'm not sure, but the first day has very little climbing, the second day has its share, but less than 10,000 feet, and the 3rd day has been reasonably flattish so far. So could be as much as 15,000 feet left.

This is a nice trail, but it eventually ends and then comes an ugly moment: 3 miles climbing on 78 (which is the main road from Escondido to Ramona/Julian). A busy road, no shoulder (the road just squeezes in between the rocks) and cars still going >50 miles. So I put on all my blinkies, took another big swig of Pepsi, and sprinted up that hill as fast as I could. It really wasn't that unsafe, there are occasional turnouts and not one car even came close. Still, I hate that section, even for 20 mins. But then, road cyclists do that all the time and even Tour Divide has hundreds of miles like that. 

Only 3 miles, then a turnoff onto a dirt road, although so washed out that it is at times single track. Another part that I really like. 

Eventually the climbing starts and it got dark, so can't say much about the views. But there is a lot of uphill and much of it steep. In Black Canyon, I saw this beauty:

Black Canyon Creature

Around 10 or 11 in the evening, I got very weak and tired. I took a 1 hour nap somewhere off Black Canyon, ate a bit, and hopped into my sleeping bag, even though it was not a comfortable spot. That break improved things a little bit and I headed on, but rather slowly. 

2 hours later, now on the road around Lake Henshaw (76), so a brief pavement stretch, I was again getting very weak and tired.  The Tour of California will zoom down on the same descent and then make a left turn where I turned right two weeks later. But they'll go 40 km/h and at that moment, I could not go faster than 15km/h (<10 miles). So off the bike again and this time I found a very attractive spot. Deep pile of leaves under some trees, extremely comfortable and as good as any bed. I slept for a bit, probably about 2 hours, and started up again at 3 am. 

Deep layer of leaves under trees make a great sleeping spot

My performance didn't improve at all, still averaging 15 km/h on a largely flat paved road. Yes, some headwind, but there was no escaping the obvious conclusion that I had totally run out of power for the moment. I sputtered through Warner Springs without stopping (there isn't anything to stop for either and I had water). As I turned back into the National Forest towards Indian Flats, I got really cold, although objectively it cannot have been that cold, put on every layer I had and still was shivering going uphill. 

Now what to do?  I already tried eating and sleeping. There was no attractive stopping place either. So this was the darkest hour moment of my ride and it fittingly came during the wee hours.  Very different from last year, when just around this time of the night and this section of the trail was one of my most enjoyable times of the ride. 

"Dark hours" do happen, typically a consequence of a mistake in not eating or drinking enough, digestive problems, or just having tried to ride above ones abilities. Or they can creep in without any obvious reason because I couldn't think of any mistake I had made the previous day (except some yucky drink I bought at the gas station after the Tunnels). My "dark hours" are most likely to occur mid-afternoon when the sun is out at full blast, dehydration sets in, but when the sun goes down I feel strong again and enjoy riding. This time it hit me right in the earliest morning hours. Not much that could be done at 4 am in a National Forest, so onward, at a slow crawl and occasionally even just a slow push. 

The sun always rises and it didn't even take that long before the sky slowly started to become brighter. And as it became brighter, though still before daylight, the ghostly period fainted away and everything was fine again, even without a meal or stopping.  But in the 12 hour period since the early dinner stop, I fell about 5 hours behind my pace last year and only about 1-2 would be extra stopping time - the rest was slower pace. Surprising at the amount of damage that period of weakness did. 

I took a breakfast break and then tackled the seemingly endless sequence of hill after hill. You always think that Anza must be right behind the next mountains, but it never is. Very pretty, though, and I didn't see any of that last year because I was long through here before it got light. So there was an upside to the ghostly nighttime episode. I enjoyed the ride again. 

With all those endless climbs, you get to study the ground for a long time. What do we have here? Fresh Nano tracks, probably less than an hour old, certainly less than 2 hours. 

Fresh Nano tracks, Tracey Petervary must have been here less than an hour ago!

While I had no idea which other riders were still riding or who might be where - I had not seen anybody since the Stagecoach RV stop 2 days before - this looked like Tracey Petervary to me. It's kind of funny what odd skills you pick up over time. I actually didn't know what tires she was riding and only that on those distances she is about my speed, but I could tell that this is a lightweight rider with smooth pedaling style. All the other tracks were noticeably older and to the extent that they were still readable looked like very different types of rider (heavier, mashing pedals). And in one case somebody extremely exhausted and about to fall off their bike: Lots of micro-swerves, getting off to walk. Probably just how my tracks from 3 hours earlier looked. But they were all much older tracks, nothing else was recent. 

But eventually, there really was the final hill climb and on the other side was Anza valley. Now all the way down, across the valley, and up the mountains on the other side back to Idyllwild! 

Anza Valley

I thought I could see a cyclist ahead of me, but it was so far that it was more like a moving dot. It was almost 9 am as I reached Terwilliger Road where almost exactly 3 days earlier we turned left and  dropped into Coyote Canyon. Now I was coming to this road from the other side, so made a left onto Terwilliger Road. Stopped at the Sunshine Market to fill up my bottles and as it turns out, the store just opened as I got there. So instead of starting the last climb, I took a longer break in the shade, with a bottled iced coffee. 

Thomas Mountain descent - but now climb

  I know I came down that trail before, but it sure didn't look that steep before. As much fun as the descent it, the climb is a long walk, at least after just having done almost 600km. It is steep, it is long, it is fully exposed, and by now it was hot, too.  

Then a bit of pavement on the Pines-to-Palms Highway again, May Valley, almost back. After getting off the highway, my chain really started to act up and even generous amounts of lube didn't help. Having spent too much time working on the front derailleur earlier this morning, I had no interest of playing with the chain so close to the end. But the chain got very moody and wanted to jump of the chainring whenever I pushed hard (I could see at least one bad looking link), so I tried to softpedal as much as I could softpedal up a climb. My GPS showed 600km, I could see the top, I was done - but then the chain fell off. Picked it up and was unsure what to do now, but I remembered that it is essentially all downhill to the bike shop and the Idyllwild Inn (where I left the car). So I started to roll, but must have made a wrong turn because I didn't get to Cafe Aroma where we started (and which is uphill from my car and the bike shop) but instead ended up on the highway below. But I was not going to repair a chain and use a new master link for the last half mile so just walked the rest to the Idyllwild Inn. 

I got to the bike shop at 1.50 (Brendan's official time). Tracey Petervary's arrived 1 1/2 hours before me, so with the Sunshine Market break, the mechanical delays, and the final walk, the dot that I saw in the Anza valley might have very well been her. Funny how close we were at the end given that I last saw her at the start (and she got out of Fishcreek Wash 6 hours or so before me). 

I was the 9th finisher, but the field thinned a lot as 2/3rds had quit. The finishers were very spread out. Gerry Lattimer was the next to finish and he came more than a day after Tracey and me, while the 3 fastest riders (Eddie O'Dea, Guy Sutton, and Jay Petervary) had arrived 1 1/2 days earlier. 

Definitely too square-eyed to start driving home, so I hung out at the bike shop for a while. The guys had just ordered pizza, so my timing was perfect (or maybe they knew from trackleaders where I was). 

Was home before dinner time after a weekend well spend. Need to do that more often because those rides always put me in a good mood for while. 

Finnish Tunes

Two of my columns from Folkworks, but with more readable sheet music and updated. The originals are there:
http://www.folkworks.org/all-columns-by-/40533-a-traditional-finnish-polska
http://www.folkworks.org/all-columns-by-/40618-more-finnish-tunes-for-gloomy-days

A Traditional Finnish Polska As Played by Antti Järvelä              

Folk music from Finland may be an eclectic topic for this column, but every tradition offers some interesting new twists. It is still new to me, so I have asked one of Finland’s leading traditional fiddlers to present you some tunes and links to explore. Antti Järvelä is a fantastic teacher and charismatic performer and he comes to the US occasionally. If you have a chance to see him live or take a lesson from him, take that opportunity. And if you find yourself in Finland sometime in the summer, he also organizes one of the most exciting folk festivals:

http://www.kaustinen.net/en/

Antti grew up in a small town of Kaustinen, Finland, in a family where the traditional fiddling has been carried through several generations. He started playing the fiddle at the age of four and quickly absorbed the local dance fiddling style directly from his grandfather. Eventually, he started taking formal lessons at Kaustinen Music College, where he focused on double bass, and later at the Sibelius Academy in Helsinki. Antti now works as a full-time freelance musician and teacher all around the world, carrying on the energy and fun that is inherent in this folk music. He is the founder of the Finnish-Norwegian powerfolk string band Frigg (www.frigg.fi <http://www.frigg.fi/>)

and a member to such bands as Baltic Crossing, JPP, Troka, Kings of Polka. 

Antti was kind enough to record and transcribe a traditional Finnish tune for this column. I recorded Antti playing solo and the video is here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hm1tI5kBQLY

In addition to the melody, Anti also transcribed a second fiddle harmony line that you are seeing here (it is obviously not on his solo video). By itself, the transcription looks challenging, partly because of unusual melodic and rhythmic twists. Presumably somebody growing up in that style might feel similarly about Irish/Scottish or Appalachian fiddling. But eventually, it is about the music, which isn’t that difficult, and a transcription is just a crutch to remember things (or help with learning if you just can’t figure out some notes in a particular phrase). 

More Finnish Tunes for Gloomy Days

Rainy winter days seem to call for more subdued tunes and since we don’t have that many cold wintry days in Southern California, better to take advantage of them when they happen. Here is a Finnish tune that manages to even make the otherwise cheerful key of D major sound gloomy. I’m sure there are many cheerful tunes in Finland as well, but almost all the ones I know definitely lean towards the darker side at least when compared to old-time fiddle tunes.

Our family learned the tune in this month’s column from the traditional Finnish fiddler Antti Järvelä (http://us.myspace.com/anttijarvela), who was featured in my column from last September.  The September column had a video and a transcription of Antti playing a Polska. Polskas are very common in the traditional music of Nordic countries and are in ¾ time, but with a very different feel than waltzes. Polskas are very intriguing tunes, fun to play, and it is unfortunate that they never crossed over into US fiddle style – although maybe this is changing: Old-time master Bruce Molsky has added Polskas to his live set.  

Polskas should not be confused with the much better known (in the US) Polkas in 2/4 time. These two tune types have no similarity other than an implied references to Poland. Bruce Molsky learned the Polska in his video from Arto Järvelä (who may be Antti’s uncle) and the group JPP, which originally meant Järvelän Pikkupelimannit (the small folk musicians of Järvelä). That name proved to be too difficult outside Finland and the group only uses the abbreviation JPP. Pelimanni music is an instrumental style and one of the two major traditions of folk music in Finland (the other is a singing style).

But on to today’s tune, which is much slower, maybe more like a Polonaise (a slow type of dance in ¾)? A transcription of the tune is posted on a Finnish website called www.pelimanni.fi/, but Antti Järvelä e-mailed me his transcription. If you visit the pelimanni.fi website, you probably have to rely on Google translator, but most of the time you get a somewhat understandable version of the text. While I have heard this tune played, I could not find a performance of it on the internet, so here is our family version recorded on a rainy day in California, although we play twin mandolin and guitar. It may not exactly match the sheet music of course because we did not learn it that way and when you play a tune from memory, it will start changing a bit over time, but that is how traditional tunes develop.

A Year with Too Many Injuries

2012 was dominated by a set of injuries. I hope the end of 2012 also signals the end of those problems and yesterday's surgery (January 4, 2013) was the last time I've been in a hospital for a while.

My worst of 2012: 

1) Clavicle fracture and shoulder separation Oct 14. Not even a good story to go with it, Sullivan Canyon/Fireroad, my default loop that I have surely ridden more than 1000 times, maybe close to 2000. Had my touring/flat pedals, slipped off and went over the handlebars. I thought I rolled out of the fall nicely and only got scrapes and was about to congratulate myself for good falling technique - until I touched my collar bone and felt it sticking up. Complicated enough with a few splinters, so I had surgery the next Friday (Anya's 12th birthday no less).

It was very hard to recover from the surgery, I was in awful shape for probably 4 days, much longer than I expected and much worse than I remember from other surgeries. Oddly enough, my bum right ankle started getting worse and worse after the injury and I've been limping or even wearing a walking boot since. No reason that there could be any connection, but it sure is a downer not having a functional arm and leg.

The UCLA hospital is a nightmare, feels like being in a Kafka novel, very different from the hospital in Durango where I ended up with what was arguably a much more serious injury 2 months earlier. To fix the shoulder separation, the surgeon tried a Bosworth screw, but that didn't work too well because the screw came out of the bone and became bent as we saw at the 2 month follow-up in December (the long screw in the pic below was supposed to be in the bony part to the left of it). Made me very nervous to see a pointy long thing just sticking into my chest, close to nerves and artery. So the whole thing had to come out soon, and the bent screw made hardware removal harder. Another day in the UCLA hospital, but as of last night I'm metal free again (so 2013 did start with more surgery).

2) Punctured Lung and Broken Ribs
I was looking forward to riding the complete Colorado Trail from Durango to Denver in 2012, about 500 miles. The trail goes through some of the more remote parts of the San Juan mountains that are otherwise very hard to reach. The Great Divide Mountain Bike Route, which I rode the year before, largely avoids the high parts of the San Juans and stays too close to roads (in fact, even has some long road stretches). But my trip on the Colorado Trail was cut short by an awkward fall. I crossed a little stream at night, stalled at something I didn't see, and fell over sideways. Harmless enough, but unfortunately there was a sharp stump around and I fell right onto that. Sharp enough that the impact broke one or two ribs and punctured my lung. It didn't seem to be too bad initially, although I was pretty sure about the broken rib as soon as I fell. I rode on for another hour or so and camped for the night, had a little swim in a creek. Not a great night, though, and adding insult to injury, I was bitten in the middle of night by a mouse. It crawled into my tent and bit me in the finger while I was sleeping. Hard to believe. By the next morning, I clearly could tell that something wasn't right beyond my ribs. I tried to ride on and had surprising difficulties on the climb - I was going at a rate of about 500 vertical feet an hour rather than 2000 and yet my heart rate was often near max and I had to stop.  It was obvious that I could not make it to Denver at this rate, in fact, going on might even require a rescue in the high mountains as this could only be worse at 12,000 feet. So it was just a question where to bail out and returning to Durango seemed the best choice with Silverton being the only other town within reach. It took me all morning to climb just a few thousand feet, but then I (almost) enjoyed the final downhill miles. I stopped at the first urgent care center and told them about my lung, although the doctor initially didn't believe it and thought that I just had some bruises. So it was "don't worry, we clean you up and you are on your way". They took x-rays anyway, maybe to amuse me, and then all of a sudden I became an emergency case. I was asked to lie down, hooked up to oxygen, and they called for an ambulance to the hospital. I thought that was an overreaction, but no, they were not going to let me ride my bike to the hospital. The room filled quickly with folks from the Durango Fire and Rescue Dept who thought I was an interesting case. They must have told their friends because more and more of those guys showed up until the room was really packed and they all wanted to examine me, too. Apparently the typical patient they see with a pneumothorax is in much worse shape. We couldn't use all of them, some guys took my bike to the fire station where they stored it and others took me to the hospital. I'm being unloaded at the Durango hospital here:

There I learned more about the treatment of a pneumothorax and realized that I won't leave Durango for a while. The lung is reinflated fairly quickly with a chest tube, i.e. a surgeon cuts a hole in the chest, sticks a tube into it (as high up as it goes), and connects it to a vacuum. That procedure takes about 20-30 mins, although the 15 mins or so while the lung expands are very painful even with a few shots of morphine. So they don't pump up the lung, but rather suck out air and other stuff around it. However, that isn't the end of the treatment because the procedure is followed by a few days with the hose connected to a pump until there is no blood or air coming out. It didn't feel too awful (but lots of painkillers), although being tethered to a hospital wall for days is rather restrictive. Kathy fedexed a kindle and a music player, which ameliorated the boredom. So 2 days on the trail, 4 in the hospital, and 2 more in Durango (and then I got a ride with Les Handy back to Denver - he had just finished the Colorado trail riding the opposite direction). When I got out of the hospital, one of the firefighters picked me up and took me to their station where I got back on my bike (all my equipment and clothes were there as well). I rode up the trail a little bit. Eventually, a total of 8 days which is what I had planned for the trip. Just not distributed like that. Durango is a nice town, though, and the medical care in Durango was the least aggravating this year.

A week later, Obin and I rode a section of the Colorado Trail closer to the Denver side as a day ride.

3) Stingrays Really Hurt!
Now for the most painful accident of the year: Getting stung by a stingray. 2 weeks after coming back from Colorado, Anya and I went paddling. It was a nice warm day, great for a paddle.

After getting back to the marina, Anya wanted to try my surfski, which is much more tippy than hers. So she went out again and quickly went overboard, which is what we expected. But then she yelled that she just stepped on something squishy and moving, so I told her to hang on to the boat and went in to pull her out. I had noticed stingrays earlier in the warm water of Mother's Beach, but now tried to get to Anya quickly and didn't shuffle slowly. I felt something squishy and a very sharp pain in my left foot just as I was getting Anya and boat out.  A few people at the boat house helped us wash off the boats and load them, one also brought a bottle of vinegar and I used that and water from the hose to wash out the cut. Vinegar also helps with jellyfish stings - but now it started to hurt more and more. It was a short ride home, 3 miles or so, but I started to cramp everywhere from pain. Even a few Vicodins (courtesy of my Colorado accident) didn't help one bit and Kathy drove me to the emergency room. By the time I arrived there, I was cramping up from pain so much that they couldn't take my blood pressure or pulse, it was that bad. Fortunately, there is am amazing low tech cure here and the doctor knew about it: Hot water. Very simple and extremely effective. The water has to be hot enough to denature the venom and uncomfortably warm will do. The pain almost immediately disappears (as long as you keep the foot in hot water). In order to warrant the emergency room charges, I also got x-rayed, but  soaking my foot in hot water for maybe 2 hours was really all the treatment needed. The cut was pretty deep, like a knife jab, but nothing broke off on the inside and no tendons were damaged. However, the delay between the injury and the hot water cure was long enough to cause some damage from the venom. No infection or other complication, though. It took a long time to heal and even 5 months later there is some numbness and scar tissue.

4) My Worst Poison Oak Attack Ever
A bizarre thing because I have no idea how or when it occurred. There is plenty of Poison Oak on my usual rides (Sullivan Canyon has lots), but I know how it looks and never have any problems with it. Yet in May, I got a rash everywhere, neck, arms, chest, hips, legs. Never figured out how that happened, although one theory is that somehow some leaves got into my shirt (maybe at Paramount Ranch during TBFC) and worked their way down. A very itchy week or 10 days. Fortunately, I don't react too extremely to poison oak because somebody with a severe reaction, like Kathy, would have ended up in a hospital.

Scottish Fiddle Contest

The second weekend in October is always overbooked with the Seaside Highland Games, the Goleta Old-Time Fiddlers Convention, and AYSO. Something has to go and we made one good and one bad decision this year. The good one was that right after Anya's soccer game on Saturday, the whole family hopped into the car to drive to Ventura. Was getting a bit stressful with traffic, but we made it just in time for the 1-2 pm round of the Scottish Fiddle Contest.

There are not very many Scottish Fiddle Contest around, in fact, this may be the only one in California. It is organized by Shauna Pickett-Gordon, who with her husband founded the Scottish Fiddlers of Los Angeles and now runs the Peninsula Scottish Fiddlers group. Colyn Fischer, a national champion himself, is the judge. The winner of the contest also qualifies for national championship. It is a very peculiar format and demanding as it requires playing an air and then a set of consisting of a march, a strathspey, and a reel. This is a large entry barrier as few people even know what that is, let alone are able to play it. Consequently, it is a fairly small contest, very different from the Topanga Banjo Fiddle Contest where almost everything goes and which has 200 contestants. 

It is a small and friendly group at the contest and contestants know each other well, in fact, even more often play music together. Obin competed in the open division and Anya in the junior division. Obin was his usual self and didn't really prepare anything, he was just winging it (even picked up Anya's violin just for the contest). But he knows the genre well enough to take 3rd place overall. This was his air:

Anya,  in contrast, worked hard on her set and won the junior division.

As soon as we were finished, we headed over to the stage in one of the exhibit halls and played a set with the Scottish Fiddlers of Los Angeles. Kids played fiddle, Kathy guitar, and I played bass. Worked pretty well, even though Celtic Spring is a tough act to follow....

The not so good decision was on Sunday. We skipped Goleta this year because it is a long drive, Kathy wanted to go running, Anya play soccer. But it turned out that Anya didn't have much fun at the 5X5 tournament and I managed to break my collar bone rather badly. Totally dumb fall, slipped off the pedals, almost like slipping in your bathtub.  Biked home and made Anya some lunch, then off to the emergency room. Had surgery later that week and takes me out for the rest of the year....

Coconino Bikepacking

The last bikepacking adventure of the year was also my first time mountain biking in Arizona. The Coconino Loop is a surprisingly hard 250 miles that runs from Flagstaff to Sedona to Mingus mountain to Williams and back to Flagstaff. 250 miles doesn't sound like much - it would be an easy 1 1/2 days on roads - but on those trails 250 miles actually is 3-4 hard days worth of riding (and a few hours of pushing). All the pictures I took are here: https://picasaweb.google.com/103806633563601589251/Coconino250

I left Thursday after teaching my graduate econometrics class (my teaching schedule is very light, this is the only course I teach all year and my indicator that fall is really here). I expected to make it to Flagstaff early in the evening, maybe even before dark and see a bit of the area and also find a safe place to leave the car for the weekend. But a flat tire (big nail) 50 miles before Needles slowed things down. Very unpleasant having to change car tires in the desert and on the freeway - but I made it at least to a rest area. Tried to pump, but it was clear that the tire was beyond help, so the spare went on. This also meant having to get a new tire ASAP, Needles being the closest town, as there were 200 miles or so to go. So it was late in the evening when I made it to Flag and I checked into the Comfort Inn - pleasant hotel although near freeway hell.

I bought food for the next two days on Friday morning, checked car tire pressure, and parked the car in a residential area in north Flagstaff opposite an empty lot. Seemed a safe area. I rolled out of Flagstaff on the Arizona Trail at about 10 am.  The plan was only about 50 miles that day, most of it very nice, but there were some rather slow and surprisingly tedious parts (rocky bumpy surface). Too many gates to open and close. At about 1 pm, Lynda Wallenfels zoomed past and for the rest of the gate circuit, she opened them and I closed them a few minutes later. Approaching Munds, there was a stretch of dirt road as well that reminded me too much of Tour Divide: lots of dust from off-road vehicles to breathe. So at that point, I was torn: What is worse, very rocky slow grind single track or sandy/gravely dirt road with traffic? Neither one is that much fun. But once you turn off the dirt road to Munds, it was nice riding again. I made it just before sunset to the Sedona overlook, a mountain ridge maybe 2 hours away from the town. Spectacular view and a few other cyclists were camping there as well. Not a particularly hard day, although more than distance or elevation profile indicate.

Rolling out of Flagstaff on the Arizona Trail:

Sunset (and stop for the night) on a mountain ridge above Sedona:

After a breakfast of oatmeal and instant coffee, I got to ride spectacular single track descending towards Sedona. The morning of the second day was the highlight of the trip for me (the last day would have probably been next, but I had to miss that because of mechanical problems). 

Lots of cactus pretty soon because now the route goes from pine forests into the high desert. I was glad it was not a hot summer day, but a gentle October day. Crossing the valley in the afternoon would be very hard for me in 100 degrees, which it certainly will hit in the summer, although the ride towards Sedona would be nice even them. The descent towards Sedona was slightly technical, not particularly difficult, not easy either. Very much what I had been looking forward to on this trip and there is a reason for Sedona's reputation as a mountain biking destination. 

By 11 or so, I got into Sedona, which is quite the New Age town, this goes on forever. I didn't know that there was a convenience store on the route that probably is the best resupply stop, so turned right into town and got to see a lot more of those new age stores. It is a funny base for an economy, but based on what I saw, that is Sedona's main industry. Ever wondered if the annoying yelping of your poodle might really be the echo of a desert coyote rather than inbreeding in Europe? I'm sure there are suppliers in Sedona that will be able to help you. 

More terrific, but very needly single track afterwards. Great riding out of Sedona, although I was getting hot and I was very glad this was a cooler fall day.  Basically a continuation of the morning ride, although more up and down rather than just down, but it lived up to expectations. Narrow trails and a lot of cactus meant now was time for the 100% all-natural traditional Southwest accupuncture! I mainly got it in my toes and shin, though. Single track and cactus, so you have to hold your line very cleanly or you catch a few. I quickly started picking cleaner lines. Did not distract from the riding experience, it was a great trail. 

The second day eventually became very long. As nice as the trails out of Sedona were, after crossing Red Rock State Park, you end up on the Lime Kiln trail, all the way to Cottonwood. Lime Kiln trail is very hard at the beginning and very tedious in the second half. It starts with a grueling hike-a-bike (and more cactus needles as it is too narrow for the bike and you). Then came a nicer descent where I  met Sharon and David Sell from Alaska as they were fixing flat number 14 that day. They were looking forward to getting to Cottonwood and buying more tubes. I was glad about my tubeless setup as it sealed all the punctures quickly. Maybe some cactus needles, but the problem with Arizona singletrack seems to be more goatheads/puncture vines as you collect dozens on a long ride like this. Maybe it was a particularly bad year. But Lime Kiln wasn't finished, so after some nicer parts, there came plenty of tedious sand to grind through, plus some seemingly extra loops to visit trash sites. My front tire got a cut on some rocks that took a bit longer to seal, so I went to the bikestore in Cottonwood for a refill on my sealant, also some duct tape to fix my shorts, which had a big gash. Probably caught on some barbed wire fence that I had to climb during the day.  If I get into this area again, I probably skip the hike-a-bike on Lime Kiln and take the road until it intersects with the trail again. Some parts just aren't worth riding/pushing, although more of that came in the evening.

I made it to Cottonwood maybe around 4, made some inefficient resupply decisions that wasted time (looked for a supermarket, but they are out of the way, better to stay on the route and resupply at a gas station). So I puttered around for too long in Cottonwood, but I also wanted a break as toughest part of the day was still ahead: A 4500 foot climb up Mingus mountain. I personally like doing those seemingly endless climbs later in the dark, partly (but not only) because it is cooler, too. 

The route up to Mingus might have been the most brutal single climb I've ever done. The last section is very steep and difficult to even lift get the bike over some ledges. Other routes have similarly steep climbs (e.g. the top on Fishcreek Wash on the Stagecoach 400), but they are always very short. Mingus, however, gives you that difficulty for a long time, certainly more than an hour, maybe 2. I don't think I'll do the front climb again as there is an easier climb from the back that is more rideable. It was well after 11 pm when I made it to the top and stopped for the night at the picnic tables. It was chilly, although not too cold, and little humidity, so I just put the sleeping bag on the tarp. Some extremely noisy animal woke me up at 5 am, ugly sound and very loud. Don't know what it was but a bit bigger than a cat and moving around fast. 

After climbing all evening, the next morning was all about decending back down into the desert to the Verde River. Overall, an enjoyable early morning ride. Around 10 am, I met Mark Allen from Arizona who was trying to filter some water but decided against it as it looked extremely filthy and had a dead rat swimming in there. So next water supply was Verde River. We started riding together when suddenly several spokes on my bike broke. Bad news as this ruined my tubeless setup in an area where tubes are a bad idea. Mark helped me getting the wheel ridable again (and he had a spoke that fitted perfectly), but this was stressful. 

 I made to the Verde River around 1 pm and filtered 7 liters of water. A few other cyclists were hanging out in the shade as well as there was going to be a hard climb from 3000 feet to close to 9000 feet - and the next few hours were fully exposed before getting into the pine forest again around 7000 feet. 

My tire was leaking, but manageable with occasional pumping - but a few hours later during a repump, the valve broke off. Now I had only one tube left and I know that this would end the ride for me in Williams unless I could get my wheel repaired. I was already resigned to rolling straight into Williams when I caught up with Mark Allen. He had spare tubes and talked me into doing the full route (which would add another 2 hours to the day). Unfortunately, I pinchflatted at the bottom of Bill Williams and had to put it my last tube. I spent the rest of the daylight removing thorns from the tire, at least 20, to give the tube a chance to survive for a while. I must have gotten most thorns out and didn't collect too many new ones because I made it without pumping to the town of Williams. However, the tire was pretty much flat by then. Losing the remainding daylight, however, was disappointing because it was clear as we were starting the climb up Bill Williams that this would be a very nice section of technical trail. Mark was strong, but I also bonked and could hardly ride anything uphill once we got going again. We made it to the top probably around 8 and then started a technically challenging descent. Something that would be great to do fresh in the morning, but in the dark after a long day and worrying about the tire it was not so much fun. 

So I checked into a Motel and was hoping to find a bikeshop in the morning. Unfortunately, no bikeshop in Williams, so I had to skip the last section of the loop and went to search for  a car ride back to Flagstaff.  Mark still tried to convince me to start and offered one of his spare tubes, but that really was too sketchy - a long day on a wobbly wheel, goatheaded tire, and out of backup options. Fortunately, the motel owner offered to take me back to Flagstaff and I was back at my car by 11.

Too bad, because I expected that the last day might have been my favorite part (no desert riding). Have to come back for it some other time.

Even though I thought I had found a safe place to park my car, somebody crashed into it and tore off the left side mirror. Nothing too bad, just the side mirror, and I could tape it together to drive back. Just about $200 to get it replaced, but not the best ending to the trip.  

Schwarzwald - Murgtal Radweg

We had 2 nights in Germany before flying back to California, the weather was excellent, and Obin was back from Italy, so we left for one last overnighter, this time into the Schwarzwald. We biked through the Schoenbuch to Herrenberg, where we took the train to get into the Schwarzwald (an hour further west)There was just a little bit of single track after Weil im Schoenbuch.

Auf der Teufelsbruecke (or maybe not, but one of the bridges)

It was a fairly chilly morning, Anya complained about her hands getting too cold, so the girls were  exhausted by the time we made it to Herrenberg and hopped on the train.

We skipped the very first part of the Murgtalradweg, which was supposedly just a steep downhill and got of the train in the next town.

Compared to the Donautal, there was a lot of steep ups and downs, despite roughly following a river, but that is how the Schwarzwald is. We stayed for the night at a small village inn, in fact, that picture shows the main road.

We continued the next morning and made it to Rastatt late in the morning. Only an hour of riding to France and Obin was eager to continue and get on the other side of the Rhine, but Kathy and Anya were ready to return. So we didn't ride on, but after a quick look at the Rastatt Castle went to the train station, took the train to Stuttgart, then the S-Bahn to Leinfelden,  and finally rode the Siebenmuehlental back to Waldenbuch.