a ride in Los Angeles

8/01/06
On the first day of August, I wake up early in my bungalow in the fabulous Miramar Hotel in Santa Monica, part of Los Angeles. No need for an alarm. At 4:30, due to the time difference, I am up, done with sleep.

Breakfast begins at my convenience, as I shopped yesterday. It is great to be able to make breakfast the way you want it, rather be forced to wait for a restaurant to open. At 5:30, I’m on the bike, headed north up the sketchy, but beautiful, Pacific Coast Highway.

After an hour, I find an old friend of a climb in front of me, the Solstice Canyon. You make a right at a 76 gas station, up Corrall Road. The legs went into revolt, as they were not recovered yet.

But it’s been a week and it’s time. I miss the compact crank like you wouldn’t believe. I’m standing on the pedals, trying to find a rhythm.

Halfway up, the internal climbing mechanism wakes up, and the sensations improve. The window glaze between my cleats and shoes is half good, half bad. The left foot is creaking, the right foot, at the moment, is not. So that is improvement, but there is room for so much more.

No one else is going up the climb, but the executives who call the canyon home are bombing downhill on their way to work. In BMW’s and SUV’s they descend out of habit, nailing the apexes, half awake, oblivious to the beautiful view.

The five pounds I’ve gained since the Tour is there, but it’s not too bothersome. I stay within myself, establish a rhythm, and just keep riding, hoping to find the top. It’s hard to tell where it is, as the road goes around sharp corners.

The road markers are starting to count down, and I figure I’ll keep going until I get to the zero mark. Before that happens, the road runs out, and turns into a dirt trail. This appears to be the end so I stop, take the picture you see above, turn around, and descend.

The descent is steep, and I reach 40 miles per hour. So while it is short, it is similar to the roads of France.

After the climb, the ride back to the hotel is a chore. For fun, I call Bryan Sweeney, who told me about the climb. He’s on his way to his shoot when I reach him on the cell. We’re having an agency dinner tonight, so we’ll all get together, and share some stories, as well as some laughs.

Sadly, my fix with the window glazing didn’t work. The left pedal was still creaking. So I tried a new approach.

I brought the pedals back to where I bought them, Team Performance, and returned them for some Shimano Ultegra pedals. Bless Team Performance for taking them back. I bought the pedals three months ago, put 3,000 miles on them, and they still took ’em back. The new Shimano pedals appear to be good: they have a low profile, and are more sleek than the clunky Looks. Cost of upgrade was only $35 as I was credited for the pedals that were not good.

The guy in the store who helped me, Duff, knows Coach Joshua Dean Powers. Not only that, he fell in love with my four-year-old Trek. He said if I ever wanted to sell the frame, he'd buy it. He had a 5200 years ago, same color, and it got totalled. He still loves that bike.

Hard to find fault with that.