Exercise the Right Muscles

You come around the corner and see him, less than a mile up the road ... a fellow cyclist, going your way.

And so you speed up.

Maybe you're just bored. It's a long empty road, and lots of cyclists use it for training. Having a rabbit to chase for a bit might be a nice distraction. If he's doing about the same speed as you, maybe you could make a friend. Who knows? You might get to talking and find that you have a lot in common, and end up with a new favorite training partner.

So you close the gap. You tuck in a little lower, focus on spinning circles and engaging the big muscles, and soon you're 500 yards back, and then 100 yards, and then 10 yards. Somehow, you've also tried not to shift gears much, staying quiet, being sneaky, timing things so that you catch up to the guy just as you're coming to a piece of road where you have a competitive advantage -- an uphill if you're a climber or a downhill if you're a descender -- so you zip by and keep hammering.

Did you even say "On your left" or "Good morning" as you went by?

Here's an even bigger question: What do you do if the guy happens to speed up and get on your wheel? Do you keep going the same speed? Do you really put the hammer down in an effort to drop him? Do you begin working together and swap off pulls until you either go your separate ways, simultaneously back off and introduce yourselves, or one or the other of you gaps off the front and thus proves himself the Alpha Male of this stretch of road for today?

Did you just miss a chance to make a friend because you were too wrapped up in proving how strong and fast you are?

Or maybe you're riding a specific profile today -- tempo or intervals or whatever -- and you're heads-down hammering along when you see another cyclist going the other way. He nods, or waves, or calls out "Hello" as you come even. Did you at least nod, or raise your fingers from the aerobars in a pseudo-wave?

But this one is the worst. You're way out in the country and you see a rider on the side of the road, struggling to change a tire or fix something on his bike. Maybe you're doing that profile again today, or you've got a long way to go, or you need to get home soon or you'll miss the first half of the game. Do you slow down and ask that fellow cyclist if he needs any help?

Do you ask as if you really mean it?

We don't really expect kindness from cars -- although I've had more than a few of them offer help when I'm changing a flat or riding somewhere in the rain -- but you would think that cyclists would at least stick together. Cutting your tempo ride short 15 minutes one time isn't really going to ruin your lactic acid threshold, but leaving that new rider with the flat stuck out on Hwy 100 until he finally calls his wife to come get him could just be the thing that keeps that new rider from ever getting on his bike again. In case you haven't noticed, there ain't that many of us to begin with. We need every cyclist we can get.

So, stop when you see somebody that might need help. Slow down a bit when you pass another rider, and maybe take a shot at making a friend. At the very least, nod or wave or grunt "Hello" at every other cyclist that you see.

It takes 12 muscles to wave at someone. You only need one not to -- and, yeah, that muscle is a sphincter. Exercise the 12 muscles instead.

Changes - Ain't Entropy a Bitch?

You don't get a lot of days like Sunday in middle Tennessee in September: Just a touch of wind in a clear blue sky, with temperatures starting about 60 and barely tickling 80 come the afternoon. If you ever needed a message from the Powers That Be to go for a ride, Sunday was it.

Since I had all day and nobody to ride with, I decided this would be a good chance to see what had changed on some roads that I haven't visited since our return to Tennessee. For starters, I headed to the new Einstein Brothers just south of Hwy 96, near I-65.

It was just as tasty as my old Einstein Brothers down in Naples, but the busy roads made the trip rather hazardous. Since it was just after sunrise on a Sunday morning, this did not bode well. From there, I went through downtown Franklin and south on Carter's Creek Pike to Leiper's Fork. These areas were still quiet, and I began to feel better again.

Having spent Saturday supporting the Femme Fondo ride in this area, I considered just doing the metric route that the ladies had enjoyed the day before. As it was still a little chilly, however, I instead opted for the sunshine on the Natchez Trace.

Other than the new bridge for Hwy 840, the Trace seemed about the same since the last time I had ridden there. Some fields that had been just grass now had corn ...

... and there still seemed to be plenty of wild turkeys about.

The Park Service has also put up fancy new signs.

Eventually, I got to Hwy 412, which turns off towards Hohenwald. The Trace bridge there is being replaced, so I decided to limit my ride to just Tennessee, and got off the Trace there.

Apparently, this project also has them widening Hwy 412. This will be good when it's finished ... particularly if they keep the shoulders wide for those of us who regularly use this piece of pavement on brevets.

I started back north by turning onto Ridgetop Road. For those of you who haven't come up Ridgetop Road from this side (which is just about everybody by RandoGirl and me), let me tell you: It's steep. It hurts. Fortunately, this gets you up most of the climb rather quickly, so you can then enjoy a nice easy 2-3% grade.

After a couple of miles of this, you turn left onto one of my favorite roads in the world: Cathey's Creek Road. I like this road so much I designed a permanent to use it. My friends Lynn and Vida Greer like it so much that they put it on their Gran Fondo route.

The beauty of this road is that the pavement is perfect, and the descent is straightforward and nicely shaded. There's one spot where you may want to touch your brakes a bit, and then it's just easy rolling for miles and miles. It's also a very empty stretch of road ... just you and the cows in fields of clover.

And, of course, a creek runs by it.

Eventually, I turned onto Stephenson Schoolhouse Road, where church was just letting out. I think that this is the first time that I have ever biked past that church when there were services, and folks were just as nice as could be.

The same dogs that have chased me for years were still at the house just past the top of Love's Branch Road. As I started down the hill, the little brown one shot like a rocket out from under the porch, and I had to sprint hard to beat him on his intercept course.

Which just goes to show that some changes could be good.

I stopped at the store in Williamsport. With 80 miles in by then, I needed to just sit and eat a bag of chips. Fortunately, that store hasn't changed much, and they still have some of the best shade around.

Opting for the short, painful way back, I continued up Snow Creek Road. Just before Theta, the pavement tilts up a bit, but it shaved off a couple of miles. Then I went and screwed it all up by turning on Fairview Road rather than just taking Les Robinson all the way to Carter's Creek. I did this because I know that the shoulder on Carter's Creek is rumbled down that way. Unfortunately, that meant that I had to climb back up to Mobley's Cut, then descend and climb Bear Creek.

All in all, I'd have to say that the area hasn't changed much in the year that I was gone. I just wish that I could say the same for my legs, since they seem to have forgotten how to climb.