Those of you who are even semi-serious recreational cyclists will know that these aren't really impressive numbers, but I was thrilled yesterday to post my personal best average speed over a sustained ride (I can crank it up to 24 or 25 mph on a windless flat, but only for about 3 seconds). So, yesterday, February 3rd, I averaged 15.5 mph over 35 miles (or about 25 kph over about 56 kilometers for those of you who are used to experiencing the world in rational units). Let's take a look at the map, shall we?
The route is what I call a "lollipop" route. Basically it consists of me riding out of the city to a certain point, doing a loop, then riding back into town along the same "handle" (pretty much, one way streets in town cause minor differences). If you click on the map for a somewhat larger view, you'll see that our house is in the lower left, near downtown Lexington. You'll also note a point on the map that's labeled "Dog Incident."
I did the loop portion of this route clockwise. At the end of Carrick Road, where it Ts
out onto Russell Cave Road, there's a little country store called the Loradale Grocery (where, by the way, they've adopted a "don't ask, don't tell" policy regarding Lexington/Fayette County's indoor smoking ban).
There was an SUV of some kind sitting in the parking lot of the
store (across Russell Cave from me). The driver had left the vehicle
running, and there was a big black dog in the drivers seat. When he saw
me, the dog got a bit excited and started jumping around and barking. I was
waiting for some traffic to pass, so I was sitting there for a minute or two.
Now the weird bit. The dog managed to roll down the window, jump
out of the car, and charge across Russell Cave straight at me. I only
had one foot unclipped and I was so shocked (and even kind of
impressed) by the whole thing that all I could do was kind of swing my bike
around between him and me. Or most of me, anyway, 'cause like I said,
one foot was still clipped in.
I yelled "No!" and the dog immediately stopped and looked around.
He had this complete "What did I just do? How did I get over here?"
look on his face, and about that time the driver/dog owner came out and
started yelling at him. Traffic stopped on Russell Cave and everything. It was very exciting.
(There's also a point on the map labeled "turn into headwind" where I took a right heading into the southwest wind. Up to that point, about twenty miles in, I'd managed 16.5 mph.)
When I posted an elevation profile a couple of weeks ago, Russ asked for more details on reading it, and Margo pointed out that profiles look a little more exciting than they actually are. The elevation profile for my ride yesterday, for example, has a saw-blade/Cascade Range kind of look to it. The trick to reading these kind of things, though, is to look for a number somewhere that keys the "exaggeration" of the profile. The ones I use generally have the number at lower left, so this one, for example, is 162.5 times more exaggerated than the actual route. I don't know enough about this kind of stuff to say for sure, but in the absence of exaggeration I think that image would have to be 35 miles wide.
Now, to catch up with a couple of other things that have been in the comments lately:
- Again, thanks to everyone for their well wishes on my latest story sale.
- Scott, "Another Word for Map is Faith" is, in fact, the story that came out of our conversation in Mexico about map-based magic. It kind of turned into a science fiction story, though, so I'm still hoping to use cartography/magic at some point.
- Boys, boys, boys. It's really not freaky to eat an orange with the peel on, you just have to eat it right. First of all, choose the right variety (preferably organic). I've been eating blood oranges lately. Second of all--and this is a good tip for just enjoying food and wine in general--learn which parts of your tongue are most sensitive to each of the five tastes, and adjust your, um, mastication accordingly. If you take your time and learn about how you in particular taste foods, you can turn a ham on rye sandwich into a nuanced experience. This has the added benefit of making you eat slower, and so usually, less.