1,0... BPB's Eve

In short I'll drive to the velodrome to pass bike-check according to the ACP Rules. 
If everything goes as pre-arranged I'll meet there my two riding buddies. PB will stay at home for the night.
I'm feeling really edgy right now.  I've got a vague sensation of forgetting something... hope it's nothing essential.

2,1...

This afternoon I've been busy getting things ready for the ride. Spiffed up the bike in general ang installed a second tail-light (since you never know when it is going to stop working). I had to adjust the rear rack in order to make room for the new light. A mere five minute work.

At dusk I took a fast spin for an hour. Everything seems to be working fine.
It's a bit strange but the day has come, I've turned my intended sabathical year into a full series of brevet. Destiny? A coincidence? Who knows...

3, 2...

Spinned effortlessly to Tibidabo. Temperatures are rising. Plummeted down to St Cugat leaning the bike to its limits in most of the curves. Not a single click today.

Passed a couple of mountainbikers in a dirt lane leading to Vallvidrera. One of them made a comment on my tyres. "They look too soft, you have had a flat".  "No- I replied- they've been pumped to the right pressure. It's just supple casing" We arrived ato a junction and our ways diverged so I took that opportunity to check the tyres, well, you know, just to make sure...

7, 6, 5, 4...

My cycling training has been restricted to running errands for the last days.
Tomorrow I'll take a final spin most likely to Tibidabo.
No backward glances...

Count down: 10, 9, 8...

A new clinking sound today. I was getting exasperated till I realized that the sound misteriously disappeared while riding no-hands. So laid down the bike and poured a few drops of oil between the stem and the handlebar. It cured it!

After solving the "acoustic" problems opted for a relaxed spin to Horta's viewpoint from where I had a nearly crow's nest view of the velodrome. Will I get there in time next Sunday?

BPB "avant premiere"

No need for the test-ride; everything worked silk-smooth and, what's more, run quietly. (All righ! I suffered a minor problem with the front fender slightly rubbing the tire. Quite an easy thing to fix!)
I sat on the saddle shortly after seven o'clock and headed for the pre-arranged meeting point. It was a bit cold (not even 10ºC) but the cloudless sky heralded a sunny day and I'd alrealdy decided on short-sleeves for the jour (assuming that temperatures would rise up) . Well, just in case, I had cunningly packed a good pair of arm warmers in the handlebar bag. My riding buddies showed up at the pre-arranged place at the pre-arranged time and the three of us set off for our particular BPB avant-premiere. I lead them through the industrial areas of Ripollet and Montcada to the starting point at the road to La Roca. So early in the morning traffic was thin and we spinned at a reasonable brevetish speed (not that fast as in  my previous "time-trial" ride) till we reached the road to Montseny (first "rest-room" stop). Then we faced  the first and most serious climb of the day: the Collformic. It's a 25 km scenic ascent on good pavement most of it through forested areas that reminds me of the Alps. We rode the first "easy" leg till the hamlet of Montseny where we had a brief stop to eat a sandwich and refill the bottles. Now we tackled the last 10 gruelling km at a steady 6 plus gradient. P.B.(slightly undertrained) quickly falled back and, to my surprise, I found a comfortable spin that took me easily enough to the summit. There I waited for my two riding buddies (A.R. a much better climber had kindly seen P.B. all the way through) and took some pics of their final approach.
So we regroupped at the top and had a passing cyclist take our group picture by the road sign. (please mind that the bike I'm holding is his, not mine).
Anticipating a chilly descent I put on my arm-warmers and the three of us plummeted down past El Brull to Seva. Nice place worth a visit but we were unfortunately  in "zoom past" mode.  After a second brief stop we headed for Taradell and the second climb of the day: the Coll de la Pollosa, a much gentler climb amidst farm land (true "fields of green" not far from a main road). This time A.R. displayed his climbing abbilities and waited for the "lame ducks" at the summit patiently chewing a power bar. The strech to Moià and Calders was uneventful. We reached Calders and started a fast descent to Monistrol where we dealt with the last major climb: the Coll de Lligabosses. No big deal but for the slightly acking legs. After some km of a false flat we began our descent to St Llorenç. It was nearly half past three in the afternoon but we still found an open restaurant (it's a usual stop for cyclist). They were nearly closing but kindly accepted to make us some sandwiches with recently baked bread. They tasted great! From then the rest of the ride to Cerdanyola was easy enough (but for traffic: hoards of weekenders driving home). I lead my buddies to the start of the road to Barcelona and left them there with precise indications of how to get to the velodrome (where they had parked their cars). I know I should had seen them to the top of the Coll del Forat del Vent but... the delicate family negotitions that precede most brevets had set a non negotiable finish time. I "repported" home feeling reasonably fresh. May be that the PBP is not totally out of my reach. We'll see... shortly.

The plan

Mail traffic with my riding buddies is increasing. Everybody's got a riding-plan for the BPB but, unsurprisingly, everyone's got a different plan...
This Sunday we'll submit our plans to "the test of the road" (Vélocio) and see what comes out.
I hope that no bit of my recently overhauled drivetrain falls loose (there's been no time for a test ride)

Drivetrain overhaul

Drove under heavy rain to a far-away-bikeshop in order to fetch a new bottom bracket cartridge with the required spindle length. Right now the bike's got a new axle and chain. The pedals were fully disassembled, cleaned, oiled and reassembled. Chainrings are gleaming. Everything seems to be running smoothly now. No time for a test-ride.

Differential Diagnosis

The clinking-clanking noise was becoming more and more apparent in the climbs. So in my renown empirical-enquire-mood I started a methodical search for the origins of the misterious noise.

The trial and error went as follows:

a) First hypothesis: "under a high load the torsional deformation of the chainstays squeezed the metal fender". I squeezed the fenders far beyond the reach of a "torsioned" chainstay and... nothing changed.

b) all right, then... "it must be a crack in the bottom bracket shell" (again?) Well, in fact, there seems to be a scratch there in top of the lug but no; after some frame flex test... no, I'm quite sure of that.

c) 2So it's the pedal". I should have ben more methodical. See how it spins... smoooothly! Then...

d) the bottom bracket, perhaps? Well, I've got some eight thousand miles out of it. Yes, could be... but after removing the cranks it seems to run smoothly enough though.

By then I was starting to consider panicking as an option till I reconsidered the chain. Yes, it's a bit old but it's been properly maintained and I mesured it not long ago and found that the wearing-out was negligible. I oiled it (over-oiled, in fact) and the misterious noise slowly faded away...

So that's it: I need a new chain.

Pre-ride

We're planning a training ride that covers the first and last leg of the BPB for this Sunday.
Just over 200 km. No big deal if it was not for the "transport stage" between both legs that includes climbing the Collformic.

Reconnaissance ride

This morning reconnoitred the first leg of the BPB: Montcada- les Mallorquines. In fact, I already knew this stretch but I rode it in a sportiff manner in order to time myself. The average speed was reasonable and managed to feel quite comfortable on the saddle. Beyond Hostalric enjoyed some breath-taking local roads. It seems it's going to be a scenic ride.
I've got a small concern though: an annoying click that seems to come from the right pedal. When did it have its last overhaul?

Signed Up today

Hear, hear, hear! I've already done it: "I took the King's schilling" Well, in fact I'm 75 Euros poorer but a lot happier. I'm on my way to Perpignan (and -hopefully-back...) for the second time. And I'd rather not blow it (if at all possible...). A second blunder would be something hard to deal with.

The day after BRM 400

Compte rendu. Finished the BRM 400 in 23 hours sharp.....

Start at 6 am. The field, a bit over one hundred mostly-sleepy randonneurs (and a couple of randonneuses). The weather... a brief shower replaced the pistol shot. Most of the field donned water-proofs over arm & leg warmers, but I stubbornly stuck to my long-sleeved jacket (made my mind in the last minute and left my fair-weather gear at home). This time the start was from la Font dels Capellans which roughly translates as the Priests' Fountain so we had no choice but threading our way through some of the ill paved streets till we reached the road to Igualada. It's quite a scenic road that climbs the Coll de Maians amidst misty farm-land before plummeting onto Odena and nearby Igualada. By then AR and me were riding alone and all my previous navigating concerns had vanished since that man is a sort of human GPS. In fact, he's able to recall with utmost precision every turn and every gradient of any road he's riden (and I'd dare to say he's riden quite a lot!) So I mostly stuck to his wheel trying to make out I was perfectly aware of the right turn to take. At the first control we meet I.S. and J.N. -a married couple who share a keen interest in randonneuring- and J.M. a man in his sixties who's "already riden almost anything". A.R. and I were obsessed to make a time-buffer so after some cumbersome appologies we left shortly before them. Our run-away was unexpectedly brought to an end an hour or so later when we heard I.S. voice to our back saying something like "gotcha". It was rather embarrassing (and till then we'd been thinking we're making quite a time!). From then on we teamed up till Benabarre. This was our third control point and J.M. opted to pack there (I know he'd made his mind long before). Why? Well, I'm not sure and I don't know him well enough but I remember him packing in this same brevet two years ago. I'd say he's lost his mental endurance somewhere. So then our diminished pack of four faced the long-chilly-and-wet descent back into Catalonia while the sun was setting. Night fell swiftly.It was pitch dark. The expected full moon was hidden behind a cloudy sky so our vision field was limited to a narrow beam of light, bright in the center and gradually fading away in circles. Traffic thinned more and more till we had the whole road for us most of the time. With I.S. leading the pack we needed not our GPS-man. He took us through some short-cuts into Balaguer (the city of the counts of Urgell) vanishing my last navigational concern. The climb to Cubells was uneventful dissipating my doubts on my physical shape ( I remember a previous brevet when I suffered bitterly some years ago in this same spot). It was quite encouraging. We stopped in a pub in Ponts; A.R. knew the owner and he offered us a delicious supper. I took my chance to clean my face from the salty mask accumulated through the day and slept for ten minutes leaning my head on a table in the best randonneur tradition. We left Ponts by two in the morning and faced the last leg of the ride. The climb to Calaf proved challenging and got some sort of cramp that delayed me. I managed to recover somehow just to find the rest of the pack patiently waiting for me at the foot of the hill-of-hell. It's a relatively short but absolutely steep ramp at the outskirts of Calaf (a one in twenty or maybe a bit more; anyway nothing fun to tackle at in the last leg of the ride). From then on we had a really easy ride to the finish (a bit cold though... I was glad to bear my long-sleeve)

Feeling a bit edgy. Right now I have three navigational concerns:

a) Igualada. Thread your (my) way through town and find the right exit
b) Lleida: same thing and lots of traffic
c) Balaguer: even worse (roads crossing endlessly) and no one to ask for directions.

Forecast for tomorrow: temperature descending, showers here and there till noon, mostly cloudy.

Eve of... BRM400

Just 48h to go and I feel nearly as laid-back as in the previous BRM200.
I have already settled for a slow judicious ride. If everything goes as expected I intend to hand over my card at dawn.

A kingdom for my Brooks!

Got saddle sores! In short, with BPB looming and some sort of perineal discomfort in the last BRM300 I thought a slotted saddle would fix it up. So took off my butt-shaped B-17 and replaced it by a fresh-stiff-unbroken slotted-B17. As the Honourable House of Brooks and Co asserts: the slotted saddle is a sure cure for perineal problems. Yes, they are absolutely right but... after fifty miles or so I started to feel some "discomfort" in my left sit-bone. Things went worse as the miles passed by till I developed a lump so I opted to cut the training short and head home.

It's strange; breaking up a Brooks never posed a problem to me! Perhaps the "Imperials" have been someway overhardened to compensate for an alleged lack of structural resistance?

And now what? Saddle vs perineal sores? Nice choice.
I think I'm going to reinstall "Old Faithful" since breaking up a new saddle takes its time and the BRM 400 is next Saturday. (And no, I'm not going to soak it in motor-oil)

Me in Wonderbikeland!

Yesterday I took a day off and went to a peculiar bike shop in Barcelona. The name over the main entrance read ESPAIBICI. I had some references from the web but reality was far beyond my wildest expectations! For the first time in many many years I really felt impressed: a Pugsley like monster hanging from the ceiling, a real vintage trike, leather stuff everywhere, lots of fixed-geat parts,... The staff was really friendly and the one who looked like the boss informed me that the hanging-monster was on display after going for a ride through northern Finland. Stunning shop! The only thing that still puzzles me is the intense scent of incense floating in the air. Maybe they are buddist. Walked out with some bike parts including an Imperial Brooks saddle (the thing is that after a hundred miles or so I feel some part of my anatomy -that I'd rather it didn't- going "slightly" numb) By the way, I pulled out myself also with a much thinner wallet (I'm glad my wife doesn't read my blog)

The fixed gear bug

Have I been bitten by the fixed gear bug? Not sure yet but... the idea of converting an old road frame (NOS in fact) into a "fixie" is stumbling around my head.

Chasing mountabikers...

This morning, before going to work, I took a ride up the road to "el Portell". Last night I felt too stressed to sleep so I took a pill. It really worked and after a good night sleep I woke up relaxed... in fact, a bit too relaxed. I'm not saying I had a hard climb, no, it's just I felt "heavy", unable to spin even on the false flats. Once on the top I turned right into the dirt lane that leads to the road to Tibidabo. I passed two mountainbikers in a fast succession to their eternal shame and temporary surprise. Obviously, being passed by a road machine in a dirt lane was felt like an offence and called for an inmediate reparation (cruel revenge, to say it straight). So they quickly started to chase and outpaced me in one long steep climb full of loose stones (remember I was riding on 28*622). I knew it was going to happen so I made no effort to fight back ... till the lane surface got smoother. I looked for a favourable position at their six and launched a sudden devastating attack. The one on the lead (obviously alerted by his tail radar) made an unexpected right turn into the safety of a steep narrow track but his unaware mate... ho, ho, ho.
Back on the asphalt I climbed uneventfully to Tibidabo and plummetted down to St Cugat.

Signing up for the BRM400

Rode on the new bike lane to Sant Cugat. No doubt of the designer's good will but... it's not well concieved (why don't they ask cyclist first?)

Climbed to Tibidabo choosing the hilliest possible route and trying to stay one cog higher than usual. After a while I changed my mind, shifted down a couple of gears and spinned. May be it's a more sensible way to face long climbs (specially if one intends to climb for hours).
Got quite a fright in one of the steepest descents when my rear wheel skidded on the wet pavement and was on the verge of falling to the ground in the very moment a lorry was approaching. My heart pounded harder for quite a long...

By the way, I've just signed up for the BRM 400. I rode most of the route a couple of years ago and it's... challenging

BRM 400 Profile

The day after...the 300Km BRM

The dreaded wind did not show up so the ride was much faster than expected. Start time at six am sharp. It was a bit cold but nothing compared to the previous event. The organizers unleashed the pack in the most casual way (what happened to the ceremonial departure with the traditional bon route! and all the "necessary formalities"?) This time the field (some 150 guys and half a dozen gals) avoided the main road and threaded its way through an industrial area that lead to the St Joan junction before heading for the hills. No need to say that the pace suddenly increased and the fast guys on the lead quickly turned into a distant red glow in the dark. In fact some of them finished the ride before the minimum time and had to wait for the openning of the control . I was riding with some friends in a group of four that calmly tackled the hills in a brevetish manner making steady progress. Shortly before St Ramon we caught up with another cyclist. He was a friendly middleaged gentleman stubbornly riding in a course that was obviously beyond his physical limits. I offered him my wheel and did my best to "give him a ride" but it was obvious he was not going to make it. He lost contact approaching Agramunt. I knew we're not to see him again. Later, at the finish we learned he'd packed shortly after. By then our happy group of four was not only not so happy but a bit diminished. By some difficult-to-explain reason A.R. was on his own presumably well ahead of us. To our surprise he showed up at the Alfarràs control just when we were about to leave. Things were a bit tense at first but after some unconvincing appologies and by unspoken agreement we skipped over the most uncomfortable questions and left as a full group again. As we were leaving Lleida we gained on the familiar figure of a lonely cyclist. It happened to be MF our five times PBP ancienne. We were keeping quite a good pace but arriving to Cervera I started to suffer from saddle sores (What's going wrong with my old-trusty Brooks?) Anyway, we were back in St Ramon still in day light. By then I was starting to feel my legs "a bit heavy" but kept stubbornly on my 23 cog uncaring of the steepening grade to Conill. It was obviously a mistake, the last climb (the Coll de la Fonollosa) proved to be a real match for a overstressed rider (yes, I had overdone it a bit in the big ring...). A chilly un uneventful descent brought us to the finish. And now what? The 400?

The day before... the 300 km BRM

Spit and polish again. Bike's gleaming and eager for the ride, I, on the other hand, feel suprisingly laid-back and unconcerned. I've already riden this route once and am well aware of what to expect. As it goes in chronological order: hills at the beginning, rolling terrain, endless "undulations", bad pavement (or none at all), excruciating head-winds, bigger hills, some downhill and an unnecessary (obviously misplaced) steep climb before the final fast rolling descent to the "arrivé". At least it's how it was a year ago (maybe I should publish the ride report). If everything goes smoothly we'll be due shortly before midnight

Anyway, now early to bed (for early to rise...)

The day after... la Flèche

And me at the end (still looking slightly tired)

The flèche Vélocio

The "non-french" team at the start (Mont Louis).
Had quite a nice weather till 04:00 am. From then on it rained (downpoured) till the very end.

Training

Climbed to Horta in one cog smaller than usual. Hardly made a difference. Used the dirt path to cross over to Tibidabo. Got passed by another cyclist while descending to St Cugat and was unable to chase. I'm starting to feel really outgeared

Dirt roads

By the way, I've got hooked on dirt roads to the surprise of ATB users. They get stared at my 28x622 before starting whispering as I pass by.

Coll de Revell revisited

Last Sunday I climbed again the Coll de Revell. I hadn't cycled that road since the previous non-attempted BPB two years ago. A 13km twisty climb on fine pavement amidst trees followed by a chilly descent. The climb was preceded by a 60 km approach at full speed (I drafted some guys that were obviously trying to break the hour record). In fact, most of the time I felt outgeared (had a hard time closing the gaps)

I'm back (again)

Yes, I know... I've neglected this blog for a short (long) time. It might look like I've resigned but... NO.
Now seriously, the BPB is being held again this year (May 29-30th) and this time I'm quite determined to give it a go. To be sincere I feel a bit insecure. In fact my first intention was to take a year's sabbatical from brevets but... Have I mentioned last Easter flèche vélocio? No? Well, to make a long story short I was a member of the only non-french team that successfully completed the arrow (despite the rain and the vent del sud that plagued the southern approach to Le Pontet). Three months ago, in the celebration meal (ACP awards included) I learned that the rest of the team was fully comitted to this year's Barcelona-Perpinyà and I felt somehow obliged to (reluctantly) join them. The 200 km brevet (a bit early for the season) went uneventfully but for the freezing temperature and since then I've kept on training.