The Nifty Ten Fifty

The night before the Nifty Ten Fifty I had butterflies in my stomach. I had never committed to such a grueling ride before in my life. I worried about failure. I thought of all the clever excuses I could make to not go. To sleep in and feel sorry for myself. But good thing I told almost every one I knew about this ride, which made me feel obligated to at least try. So 6 30 last Sunday I pulled myself out of bed and prepped up for one of the most challenging rides I've ever had.

I had first heard of the Nifty Ten Fifty from a cyclist who matched pace with me going up Old Tunnel Road one day. He mentioned how it took all the steepest roads of the Oakland and Berkeley hills and combined them into one brutal course. 10,050 feet in just over 50 miles. Ungodly.

The starting group.

When I arrived at El Cerrito Plaza Park almost everyone was on light carbon and aluminum bikes with full kit and clipless pedals. There were a few steel frames, but not many, there was even one brave soul on a hybrid bike! The one thing I did notice is that I felt like the youngest one there, so I started to psyche myself into it, if all these guys were going on it, how hard could it really be? Oh how foolish I was.

Atop one of the early climbs, everyone's looking good.

The first two climbs of the day had me feeling alright, sticking with the group in my tiny 24-32 ratio. The weather was a little foggy and chilly up in the hills, but the foul weather wasn't making me feel down, what had me worried was the next climb, Marin Ave.

Look at the roof, that's flat, the road, that is not. Woof.

Marin must have been an engineering mistake, as opposed to most roads that arch around the hills or cut back and forth, someone decided to build a road straight up the hills. Marin rocks up to a monster 23 percent near the top. Besides Moser, this was the only climb I had never touched on this ride, and knowing it's reputation for putting on the hurt, I was nervous that it would throw me off the group. But there was no choice, but to tackle it. We circled around the fountain at the base as a group then all went after it.

Going up?

Some of the guys in the B group hit it pretty hard. But for the most part everyone seemed to take their time with it. At some of the cross streets people spun off to the side to stretch their legs and take a breather before tackling the steepest section at the top. I sat in my tiny ratio until that top where even with that advantage I had to pull out of my seat and press my pedals as hard as I could to top out; I had never faced anything so steep ever. With a few grunts and an extra push, I made it. At the top I turned around and looked at the remainder of the group still fighting gravity. The road is an absolute wall. With that past, it was all about endurance from then on out. The team regrouped and headed down the East side of the hills for El Toyonal.

Looking back

On the other side of the hills we got some sun which made the decent enjoyable, then we got some shade on the El Toyonal climb, where the group seemed to decide their own way of getting to Lomas Contadas, but we all did make it up and regrouped once more at the steam trains in Tilden Park, right next to the final climb of the day. By this point I felt confident, but also curious if I'd make it to the top of Volmer's Peak right next to the parking lot by the end of the afternoon.

El Toyonal in the fog.

From El Toyonal was Centennial, one of my least favorite climbs. The group spread apart at this long steep grade, but people powered through to the top, back into Tilden over to Canon, the sixth climb, and the final one before "lunch". Canon was scary but not because of the climb but because of some horrific driving (seriously, group of forty cyclists, you can wait your turn, if you're going through Tilden you shouldn't be in a hurry). At the top of the sixth climb was when I started to drop off the group. I had no trouble on the climbs, but it was during the flats that I seemed to struggle to hang on. Maybe it's my lack of skill in a group, or maybe it's the disadvantage of my less aggressive frame, or hell, maybe it's just because I'm weak. Either way I had the fortune of catching up at lunch with the group.

At lunch everyone, including the A team was enjoying snacks and talking about Marin and the rest of the ride to come. I wasn't too social, but I did get to meet some nice people, even those who had drove over from the Headlands and had never seen these roads before. So I suppose I at least had that advantage. I was prepped for after lunch to hit South Park, a brutal climb, then two less bad climbs, then straight up Hiller back down to the final climb.

After our light lunch it wasn't long over to South Park. The fog really was laid in thick over the group now making for a majestic climb up to Grizzly Peak. As the stronger rides pulled out in front, they disappeared into the fog, only maybe to fall back into view for the "slow-n-stead" group. It was interesting to watch the different styles on hitting the hills, some attacked early, leaving it all on the hill, others took their time, conserving for what was next.

After South Park, things got hairy. The group turned down Grizzly Peak, going opposite of our final ascent towards Skyline. This section of road has no shoulder and there was a good amount of traffic, which made it difficult to ride freely and stay with the group, trying to not get hit. Not knowing how to ride with a group didn't help much either. By the time I hit the intersection of Skyline and Grizzly Peak, I was off the back starting the short climb up Skyline, that was the last I saw of the B group, pulling away on the climb.

Being dropped is a shit feeling. There's no other way to describe it. It takes your pride and rubs it in the mud, plus I didn't want to be stuck trying to figure out how to get to where I need to go. I just wanted to stick with the group and finish with everyone else and share some laughs, but instead I was falling off. I decided I needed to catch up. I put my head down and mashed my pedals along the longest flat section.

This would prove to be my biggest mistake. On the descent down Shephard's Canyon the A group zipped by me. Even on the descents I was slow (although I've always been painfully aware of how bad of a descender I am). At the bottom I turned the corner with the A group up Snake and thought, alright, let me hang tight til I catch up with the B group, which was a huge joke. I was hurting. Attacking on Skyline Blvd left me nothing in the gas tank and I watched as the rest of those left behind passed me on their way up. I felt in last place, my body was gassed, I ate all the food I had, hoping that might cure me, but my pride hurt and I wasn't sure how to cure that. Snake is climb 7, I had three more climbs after Snake. I knew Hiller would be rough, Broadway isn't so bad and I've done Claremont to Grizzly Peak before, the question really was how close my body was to shutting down. I huffed and puffed to the top of Snake. It would be so easy to just spin down and go home from there and call it quits. That was my tipping point right there. I knew it was do or die right there. But it wasn't. What was one more climb? Let me try Broadway.

I started descending down the curves of roads from my 100 turn cue sheet and caught up with a group of three other cyclists who got dropped, including the fellow on the cruiser bike in gym shorts. We decided to stick together and use our combined skills to finish. Good thing our skills were lacking, maybe we left our brains back on one of the climbs but we ended up taking a wrong turn and climbing a pretty big climb straight into a dead end. We stopped and pulled out our cue sheets and maps to figure out how to get back. The motto of the day has always been "if the road goes up it must be right", well this one was wrong. We got back on course with some extra mileage, but more importantly extra feet.

We broke apart a little on the climb up Broadway, a gentler climb, but still easier to take at your own pace. By this point getting lost we all agreed that catching the B group wasn't possible, so we stuck it through together regrouping up on top of Broadway. All the food that I threw in me on Snake was finally doing something, my body felt better on my favorite descent from the hills on Old Tunnel Road. Curving back and forth I rested until the final corner where I pushed on the downhill to get as much momentum up Hiller's face. I didn't get as much as I'd had on other days up Hiller, but I was getting up it. I could feel my legs burning, it was going to be tough to get up, so I started tacking back and forth on the wide roadway, some call it cheating, but who cares, I topped out.

It was some twisty bends through the backroads around Hiller, which I led out with cue sheet in hand. There was talk of skipping those because of our added climbs, but I insisted. I didn't want to be a foot short. So we navigated around until we turned the ups to downs and stopped at Peets, unfortunately not finding any of the other riders there (apparently because they didn't stop either). 9 climbs over, the longest one was left, from the base in Berkeley to the tip in Tilden. This was it. We went out together. One fellow rider was picking my brain about my bike tour, I didn't have the nerve to tell him I just wanted to concentrate on the climb, so I let him get away a bit, but also because his pace was better than mine. Again in that low low low ratio I took my time. The sun was now beating down on Claremont and I was sweating through up Claremont. Time was passing quickly, I wasn't, but time was, before I knew it, the first section was over, onto the gentler Grizzly Peak. Other Nifty Ten Fiftiers passed by on their way back home and passed on words of encouragement, and that helped. I could feel it almost ending, just about there. I spun into the Steam Trains parking lot, where the trail to Volmer's Peak begins and I worked my way up, slowly but surely and pressing that final leg up to the summit. Everyone had left, but it didn't matter. It was about finishing and I finished. And better yet, I didn't finish last, and I'm not talking about my fellow riders (who all also finished), but rather the people who quit halfway, the people who didn't ride, but especially myself, the me that quit on Snake and went home and felt sorry for himself, I beat him with no mercy.

When it was all said and done I had finished one of the tougher East Bay rides and felt good about it and learned a lot. First of all, my riding ain't shit, some people can really ride. Secondly, I really enjoyed riding in groups and I need to try to do that more. But most importantly, I learned the importance of setting a goal and beating it. I need to do that way more than I already do.

Morgan Territory Road

I don't remember where I heard of Morgan Territory Road, but it's a straight shot BART to BART ride, meaning that I can go one way seeing all new roads. With the hopes of getting in some mileage I threw my bike on BART and headed toward Concord to ride behind Diablo to the Dublin BART station.

In the East Bay over the Hills anything next to a BART station guarantees some crappy suburban riding. From Concord station this was how the ride started. Luckily it was midday on a Wednesday so there was little traffic plus the occasional bike lane, so it wasn't nearly as bad as some of the suburban riding I had faced in NY (I still get flashbacks to the horrors of suburban Buffalo), but the monotony of these roads does not make for a pleasant ride. I just focused on Diablo in the background, hoping that by the time I got to the foothills these four lane roads would disappear.

Diablo is always watching!

Coming out onto Marsh Creek Road I got my wish and entered into a more rural area. It never ceases to amaze me that these rural communities are so close to San Francisco, it goes against everything I know from the ultra suburbanized turned exurbanized East. The scariest part though was that there was no shoulder on this road, and heavy traffic. I knew that it was about 40 miles from one BART to the next and I was starting to worry that it would be 40 miles of hugging shoulders and praying that the SUV behind me doesn't hit me. This especially worried me once the road started to climb, meaning I'd be going slower, meaning I'd have less control, making passing cars even more terrifying. But I was committed by that point, nothing to do but put my head down and deal with it. If figured if I survived US 20 in Ohio, I could survive nearly anything.

Between the backside of Diablo and Morgan Territory I'd imagine there is some fantastic hiking here too.

I reached the intersection of Morgan Territory Road, the road I came in search of and didn't find much different at first. Just more rural roads with no shoulder and the sun beating down on me. I thought I'd begin to be disappointed, then all of a sudden a sign pointed out "Single Lane Road Ahead." Single lane? I crossed a single lane bridge and the shoulder and opposite lane never reappeared. My first bit of traffic was a group of horseback riders and after that point I saw maybe three more cars on Morgan Territory Road. The road was absolutely stunning. I wondered why anybody put this road here, it doesn't seem necessary on a map, but it sure is beautiful. It started careening around a creek system on the left and the fire trails splitting off into Mount Diablo State Park. The summit was impossible to see over the foothills and the trees that hid the hot hot sun away and made dancing shadows along the roadway.

Another cyclist, who I caught going back up the super steep side of Dublin!

But the sight wasn't the only thing to really marvel about. Realizing the lack of traffic I started to listen and really pay attention. All I could hear was the birds, some frogs, and the buzzing of cicadas. The peace of this road is something I haven't really gotten back to since ending tour. I had heard people recommending this road, but my god, who knew it would be really this good?

Beautiful creeks along the way.

The actual contour of the road coming from Concord is an up and down, that apparently climbs pretty high (2,400 ft of total elevation on the day). It didn't feel like much climbing as every top was easy to get over and then a down would help part of the way on the next up. The road kept bouncing up and down. Looking toward where I guessed the road would go, I couldn't figure out exactly where it was because of a healthy coverage of trees. I really felt out of it. I checked my phone. No service. I had gotten away, even if just for the afternoon.

Lunch at the staging area.

After some more climbing the trees parted way and the Morgan Territory Road staging area opened up to my left. This was the top. I sat had some lunch, chatted with an overly talkative motorcyclist and basked in the shade. It reminded me very much of those afternoons on tour, just stopping and striking up conversation with whomever had something to say. He didn't seem willing to let me leave, but I eventually ducked out and from there it was a rocketed downhill along a beautiful curving single lane road open to the valley, where I could make out the freeway and the communities that hug to it's life. I hit 47 mph on this single lane road I've never been on before, probably not the brightest, but it sure was fun, the fastest I've gone to date.

After some more hot rural riding Dublin popped up out of nowhere. More ugly suburban apartment complexes were going in construction to match the hideous ones that were already there. What an awful place, especially in contrast from the gem that hides on the top of the hill on Morgan Territory Road.

Breaking the N+1 Model.

Everyone always talks about their "n+1", buying their third bike, planning on buying their fifth bike, the 650b mountain bike to match their 29er and 26 in hard tail mountain bikes. Almost any serious cyclist talks about it. It reminds me of guitarists who have sixteen different guitars and when you ask why, they pick them up and say "this one is a little more bluesy" play it, then pick another, "this is a tad more jazzy" and they play it and it sounds exactly the same. That's what n+1 feels like to me.

While I'm not saying that my Surly can do everything, it certainly can't, I've had some knuckle gripping "holy shit, I shouldn't be doing this," moments, but it does a lot. With the Surly I have the ability to swap around pieces and parts to create different incarnations. The bike was originally built for bike touring, but with commuting in mind (partially why I have it over the Long Haul). Before the racks and burly touring tires, the Cross-Check handled well getting across town, even daring the snow from time to time (if properly fitted with tires at the time it might have handled better). Then when the weather broke I built it to tour and took it from ocean to ocean.

Everything + The Kitchen Sink = Heavy.

Once that tour was over and I planned on settling down, that's when I started thinking of my own personal n+1. I watched the carbon frame guys zip by me up Mt. Diablo and I said to myself, "I want one of those." I peered down the trails of Marin as duders bobbed around on 29ers and again I said to myself, "I want one of those." Dads pulling kids, groceries, and a full load of lumber on a single cargo bike and I said "I want one of those." You get the point. I felt inadequate trying to do all these things with one bike, but the money just wasn't there for a new bike, especially when I just kept planning to get back to touring.

All it took was a change of tires and my possibilities reopened up. Slapping on 40mm tires made trail manageable (with a change of bars, a lot more might have been possible, but I digress). I was now riding an adventurous off-road bike focusing on some possible NY snow (which I never saw). That's all it took was a change of tires and I had my n+1 for almost no cost.

Not only can swapping parts change the bike, but changing the aesthetic helps too. Currently, I am in the process of building a rando-esque, casual touring bike. It needs some help (I swear I'll buy a matching white tire soon! I agree it looks goofy). The plan is maybe some chrome fenders and chrome racks (lighter weight, less steel than the Surly rack), the bike once again transforms (look for some nice stickers too soon, maybe).

So when someone starts telling you about their N+1 maybe you should start thinking of all that OT you'd need to work for a mountain bike instead of widening your tires. The next time someone makes fun of you for your ugly cretin looking touring bike, just slap on the right color fenders, tires, and stickers and smile as you gleam down the road.

Changing Riding Styles

Cycling, like any hobby, can become redundant. Recently, I've had a lot of down time mostly spending my time going on road rides into the hills or further. But as the days went on I found myself less enthused to put on the shorts and ride for the sake of riding. I needed something different.

Shadows on Skyline.

Then one day as the sun was starting to go down, I really just wanted to sketch or read somewhere, for whatever reason I was compelled to load up my handlebar bag and ride up the hills with a book. The ride up was a little dark, as the Caldecot Valley cast some shadows on Old Tunnel Rd. I watched as every time I spurt back into the sunlight, it would be lower on the horizon. I made it up onto Grizzly Peak just in time to watch the sun go down behind the Seven Sisters of San Francisco, something I've been wanting to do since that first evening ride along Skyline.

Twin Peaks, what a view. (Backside photo here)

I didn't get a chance to read, but having a destination, instead of just a route, made this ride different. Riding this way reminds me of when I first started riding my dad's old Iron Horse around Buffalo, leaving the noisy city for quiet spots along the extensive creek systems of Western NY. I was filled with nostalgia on my decent thinking of how these quiet casual bike roads brought some sort of peace in just getting away. As opposed to road cycling, where I usually just pass these places by, this casual style of riding made these the places to go.

This park was about as impressive as expected, not very. The noise of the freeway covered the whole park.

Since that reinventing ride, I've nabbed my books and hit some other nice spots around the Bay, including a quick nice ride up Twin Peaks, overlooking the city, and another short ride up the Albany Hill to get some writing done. The rides may not be as epic as getting on top of Diablo, or hitting your 60 mile mark for the day, but that's the point, it's treating the bike as leisure, not as sport.

Nutrition and Bars

As with any sport, cycling and nutrition are heavily intertwined. From the professionals bonking on the course from not eating enough to the touring cyclist who gets sick and tired of the same old cous-cous in their camp stove. For me, nutrition is even more of a challenge as a vegan.

When I went vegan, most people's concern was "but where are you going to get your protein?" or "aren't you worried about your nutrition?" For the first time in my life I was actually thinking about what was going into my body. I distinctly remember two friends in college who were vegan and seemed always to be ill or under the weather; this concerned me about my new animal conscience diets.

Now that I've been full vegan for several months I've started to notice that I feel healthier than I ever have. This does not mean that going vegan/vegetarian is a quick fix to become healthy (although the ADA did report it helps), but it definitely makes you more conscious of what's in your body and prohibits a great deal of unhealthy food. Before my vegetarian diet, I was bad and ate a decent amount of fast food, now, I rarely do, mostly because there's not much I want to eat.

The best part though is that everyday processed foods are limited too. This is probably my biggest food philosophy over anything else, whole foods over processed foods. I almost never read nutritional information (usually scanning the ingredient packages instead, like most vegans in supermarkets), but instead favor a varied diet of whole foods and find this works. The best way to think of this is a different grain or bean with a different vegetable pairing, the most basic sort of dish, but with a wide variety of dishes.

Homemade Quinoa Bars; taste, not so great, but healthy!

When it comes to energy bars it is a little harder to avoid processed bars, especially when most contain whey protein or honey. As a vegan, I live and die by Clif Bars. But even with their organic claim, their ingredient list is still a tad overhwelming, with a long list of various chemicals added in to supply the nutrition. Recently, they introduced a new brand, The Kit Bars. These new bars are all natural with as little as four ingredients in some, and they taste great too. They may not be as loaded nutritionally as the original Clif Bar, but they are definitely delicious and a great mid-ride snack (also, don't be afraid to pack real fruit! A reminded I need to keep to myself!).

Clif Kit's Organic Bars.

Five Ingredients!

When it comes to vegan diets, it really does help impact your diet, in the same way that if you got really into cooking, as you'll find yourself replacing processed cupcakes for whole veggies and whole grains.

Marathon Mondial Review

Lately, I've been obsessed with fat tire bikes.The thought of floating over snow has me dreaming of the Buffalo winter's I ran away from. If I had stayed there, I most certainly would have gotten one. Here on the coast of California, snow is not an issue. This dream of popping over snow was partly why I left for Buffalo in December to ride along the Erie Canal.

Urban tires at UN Plaza.

With snow in the forecast for me I needed tires that could handle the snow; the only name that came to mind was Schwalbe. Schwalbe is known for two reasons, one is their winter tires (specifically studded tires) and the other is their touring tires. I rode their touring tires across the country and loved them, then being foiled by Continental's afterwards (a mess of constant flats). With previous positive experience and a push towards snowy markets I went with the Marathon Mondial's topping out what my bike would allow at 40mm with fenders.

Rumbling on dirt.

Adding the extra 12 mm around the whole tire meant these were a little tougher to get going, but that lack of speed was worth it. The wider base meant lower pressure and lower pressure meant going over whatever I wanted. This meant that the short cut over the median was no big deal. The treads on these tires also gave me more possibilities. I never went super technical on these tires, only hitting single track really once, but given the bike I was on, the tires fared well on soil. I'm not saying I would take it down Cinderella Trail, but fire roads felt as good as pavement, and even a little more technical was not a downer.

At $40 a pop, they are not exactly cheap, so durability is definitely a plus on these. On my previous pair of Marathon's I wore them out to the tread every time, never having any blowouts, they were solid and reliable. The Mondial's on the other hand didn't turn out so well. About three months into these tire, admittedly giving them some rough terrain, the sidewall of the rear tire blew out. It was unexpected and unfortunate.

The end.

While I never truly got to test them on snow, I'd say for an aggressive urban commuter or a casual off roader, these tires are worth the investment. They make curb hopping or potholes much easier to deal with and grip very well around tight bends. Off-roading was a blast on these, not super comfortable, but manageable, and despite their final blowout, they were very puncture resistant. If I had to cross the country again, I'd consider taking these so that I could get off the Interstates and into the forests, maybe next time!

The Cross Country Tour

I haven't updated in a while, because I have been working on the project of building my cross country map. Of late, my new obsession has been GIS and data mapping. I'm slowly learning different ways of doing things, right now, this is the best I have, using Google Maps and creating a KML file. Enjoy!