Mount Baldy ride this Sunday: All Are Invited!

Above: That's me on GMR in 2001. The road was snowed over that year, so a few of us just pushed our bikes and kept on going, and had a fantastic adventure! But this Sunday I am hoping and planning to ride the whole way! I was riding my 1994 Bridgestone RB-1 that day; this weekend I will ride my Rivendell Roadeo.

Please join me on a road ride to Mt. Baldy this Sunday, December 9! This is one of Southern California's absolutely best rides, and was also the first real ride I ever did, when I got my first road bike at age 14 in 1982! We will depart at 845am from Classic Coffee at 148 N. Glendora Ave. Glendora, CA 91741. (Or meet us en route, at the top of Glendora Avenue, at the intersection with Sierra Madre, at 900am.)

It's a 40 mile ride with lots of climbing in the first half: figure 3.5 hours total. The route will be: up Glendora Mountain Road (GMR), continue across Glendora Ridge Route to Baldy Village, then down the front of the mountain and bike across to Glendora via San Dimas. 

Pre- and post-ride refreshments at the above-mentioned Classic Coffee in the Glendora Village.

Rain / snow cancels. Bring warm clothes, food, drink, and bike repair needs. The ride is unsupported and all are on their own. Any further updates will be posted to my Twitter feed: http://twitter.com/ChrisKostman

Map of route (or here):

View Larger Map

Rough Riding Mt. Diablo with Sean Virnig of Rawland Cycles

Rough Riding Mt. Diablo with Sean Virnig of Rawland Cycles, a set on Flickr.

This was multi-surface cycling at it best, in the backyard playground of two of cycling most's innovative and exciting bicycle brands: Rivendell Bicycles of Walnut Creek, CA and Rawland Cycles of Danville, CA.

I rode with Sean Virnig, founder and designer of Rawland Cycles and we both rode the Rawland rSogn model. Both bikes have 650B wheels: Sean had Pacenti Quasi-Moto 2.0" (with small knobbies), while I rode smooth-treaded Grand Bois Hetre tyres, 42mm wide.

This was a fantastic mix of paved road, single track, and fire road: Rough Rider Paradise! Nearly ever rider we encountered off-road commented favorably or asked questions about our bikes. The folks at Rawland, and at Rivendell, are really lucky to have this outdoor multi-surface paradise right in their backyards. What a great region for fun and adventure, as well as testing new designs and equipment!

It was a pleasure to ride with Sean, who, along with his family, is now a California resident. I had ridden many times on Mt. Diablo with Grant Petersen of Rivendell Bicycles in nearby Walnut Creek, but this was my first time to ascend the mountain from the south side, which is where Danville is located.

Sean honored me by wearing his Rough Riders jersey, which was really neat! Sean and I last rode together during the Rough Riders Rally in Marin County in July, 2010, at which event his Drakkar model won "Best Of Show" at the Rough Riders Shindig. Now hopefully we'll be able to ride together more often.

See the Strava page for this ride.

See the Garmin page for this ride.

See all my photos.

My review of the Rawland rSogn.

The Rawland Cycles Website.

Rough Riding the Santa Monica Mountains: Ride Planned for May 27

You're Invited: Multi-Surface Semi-Epic Ride in the Santa Monica Mountains on Sunday, May 27

I'm planning to string together a bunch of trails, fire roads, and paved roads in the Santa Monica Mountains for a nice adventure ride on the Sunday of Memorial Weekend. You are welcome to join in the fun, so please help spread the word. The emphasis will be on quieter, more remote trails and as few paved roads as possible, to avoid holiday weekend traffic. Stay tuned to this webpage for further details.

Route: It's about 50 miles with about 7500 feet of elevation gain, so figure 5-6 hours. There will be some bail-out options for those who want to do less. We'll start on the edge of The Valley and head up high from there, enjoying views such as those featured on this previous semi-epic ride preview and post-ride report from the same region.

Here is the intended Route:
South (uphill) on Topanga to "Top of Topanga".
Right on Summit to Summit Motorway, taking it across the summit of Old Topanga Canyon Road, then straight onto Calabasas Peak Motorway.
This drops down to Stunt Road, then ascend Stunt Road to Schueren. (Bail Out Option 1: turn right on Stunt instead and then right on Mulholland, back to the start)
Take Schueren to Piuma, and descend Piuma.
Turn right, briefly, on Malibu Canyon / Las Virgenes. (Bail Out Option 2: continue on Las Virgenes to a right on Mulholland and back to the start.)
Turn left, UPHILL at Tapia, straight up Mesa Peak Mtwy to the Backbone Trail.
Go west across the ridge on Backbone Trail, crossing the top of Corral Canyon.
Continue west on Backbone Trail, then descend Bulldog Trail.
At the bottom of Bulldog Trail, turn right and traverse east through Malibu Creek State Park. (If this seems too full of hikers, we'll instead go left and exit the Park via Malibou Lake and then Mulholland.)
At Las Virgenes, go right towards the coast to Piuma. (Bail Out Option 3: go left on Las Virgenes and right on Mulholland, back to the start.)
Turn left on Piuma, then left on Cold Canyon Road.
Continue on Cold Canyon / Dry Canyon as much as possible, otherwise Mulholland, back to Topanga Canyon and our start/finish at the Dumetz Starbucks.


Here is a RideWithGPS preview of the route (Thanks to AllRoy71!): Click

Note: On May 17 I rode a loop that featured the first ten and the final eight miles of this route with 2500 feet of elevation gain. Here is the Strava page. Based on that brief recon, I am going to raise my guesstimated elevation gain to 7,000-8,000 for the day and six hours total time. My low gear was 34x30 and I could just barely hold traction (while necessarily seated) with 650B Grand Bois Hetre tyres on the super steep uphills at 60 psi. I am probably going to run 50 psi on the 27th, at least for the dirt stretches. Here is a shot of Stunt Road in the distance and the downhill part of Calabasas Peak Motorway (fire road) which leads down to Stunt:

Meet-Up (start/finish): 730am, Starbucks on Topanga Canyon at Dumetz: 4900 Topanga Canyon Boulevard, Woodland Hills, CA 91364: Google Map of the location.

Departure: 800am sharp.

Bring: Three water bottles and/or hydration pack, plus food, two tubes, patch kit, tools, and more. It will probably be hot out there and water only occasionally available along the way.

Note: This ride is unhosted, unsupported, and everyone who shows up is on their own. Neither we, nor anybody else, is responsible for anyone who rides. If you ride, YOU are responsible for YOU and YOUR bike. This is not an "event" - it is just a ride on dirt and paved roads for like-minded people.

Remember: We Rough Riders enjoy getting "out there" by riding roads, dirt roads, trails, and paths on whatever bike we happen to be on or have handy. Sometimes the pavement's long gone and we're still on our "road bikes" or some bike that would be commonly considered inadequate for the job - and that's just fine by us! Rough Riding is not defined by the type of bicycle or type of riding surface. Rough Riding is a state of mind, a riding style with limitless freedom and an all-pervasive sense of adventure. I will be riding my Rawland rSogn, probably with knobby tyres or possibly with treadless 42mm Grand Bois Hetres.

Keeping It Light

The author with his mascot, Gumby, during the 1987 Race Across America. What could be more fun than having my sister-in-law crawl inside my inflatable 6" tall Gumby to surprise me?

It astounds me how overly seriously so many people take their cycling and endurance sports. It's like they just literally want to suck the life and the fun out of the whole experience.

Not me!

I honestly believe I enjoy cycling, and getting "out there" under human power, more intensely, and more intently, than just about anybody. I do this largely by "keeping it light."

When I'm out on my bike, when I'm "out there," I make a point of taking everything in, all the time. Some people stare continuously at the white line, or the butt of the rider in front of them, all the time. I don't get that. I prefer constantly using my peripheral vision to soak in as much enjoyment, information, inspiration, and light as possible. Not ony is this fun and smile-inducing, but it helps me to notice little roads or trails off to the side of the road, or way off in the distance on some hillside, giving me inspiration for more places to explore. I'm also more likely to notice weather changes in the offing, or aggressive drivers, or historic markers, or viewpoints to check out. If I don't pay attention, I'm liable to miss that glimpse of wildlife along the way, or a waterfall, or a dolphin in the ocean, or a classic car in somebody's yard or driveway, or a funnily decorated mailbox, or a funny sign, or a funky café or mini-mart. I've got to take it all in!
You noticed those wild turkeys over there to the right, on the way to Lake Cuyamaca, right?

Yes, I really do stop during my rides. It amazes me how many people just blast right over the summit of a big climb, without even stopping to enjoy the view or take photo at the summit. Seriously? Likewise for those who have ridden past some historic marker placed by the county, some historical group, or the Clampers a million times, but have never stopped to read it. I pretty much always stop for those signs. In fact, I want to find an area in California that is thickly covered in historic markers and viewpoints and then create a cycling event that specifically involves stopping at all of them! (Any suggestions?)

California Registered Historical Landmark No. 858, along Sunrise Highway on Mount Laguna.

If cycling isn't about embracing the world around us and getting to know it, why not just ride indoors on a trainer?

Naturally, I at least nod at all the other cyclists I see, and sometimes I wave at them. Amazingly, I even verbally greet those riders that I catch along the way! (I know, I know, that's so uncommon anymore. Sad.) Of course, I don't discriminate based upon their type of bike, clothes, or anything else. Anybody on two human-powered wheels is fine by me, and automatically "on my team." (I make a point of chatting it up with motorcyclists, too, treating them as fellow two-wheeled lovers of the world. Being a human is the best way to be respected by another human, I believe. However, if one slides off the pavement because they are driving their motorbike like an idiot, I will ride on by.)

When I meet somebody to go for a ride, I am actually there to ride with them. I know, call me crazy, but it's not my idea of fun to "half-wheel" a friend. The friendship, conversation, and mutual enjoyment are paramount when I ride with somebody. I also keep it light by talking a lot - generally about non-cycling stuff - with my friends when I'm riding. All that sullen silence so common in group rides is not for me. (Quite boorish, that is.)

Of course, I enjoy a silent jam with friends sometimes, too: Let our pedals do the talking! But when I really want to "train," which isn't often, I join a racing type club ride, enter a race or timed event, or I just go ride on my own and use my heartrate monitor and personal records on various stretches of road to push myself.

My late friend and mentor, Willard Bascom, said "The whole point of life is to enjoy it." By keeping it light, I do that as much and as often as possible.

Yeah, I stop to check out these kinds of signs, too. That's my Ritchey Break-Away. In this case, they explained the devastating, but natural, fire which had swept through this area of Mount Laguna.

OK, we all stop to get water at National Forest Visitors' Centers, but how about going inside? They often have neat pins, postcards, books, and maps which I'll buy during a ride. Nice volunteers, too!

Just one of many displays inside the Visitor's Center shown above, atop Mount Laguna. Want to visit this amazing Mount Laguna? Come ride our Mount Laguna Bicycle Classic in April! Info.

Racing to the Light

Above: A giant painting called "Picture Without Words" by Edward Ruscha, as currently on display at the Getty Center, the inspiration for this post. This photo of the painting is by the author.

I've been thinking about "light" a lot lately, on a multitude of levels. For example, we ultra athletes are all "racing to the light" in many ways: During our ultra challenges, we're moving forward relentlessly, through the night, towards the sunrise, the first break of dawn. Each new day brings forth new opportunities, new energy, and perhaps the day in which we'll cross our finish line.

Likewise, when we're racing eastward, as I was for nearly eleven days during the 1987 Race Across America, we're racing right into the morning sun every day. When I did that race, I'd sleep three hours a night, from about 3 or 4am to 6 or 7am*. I always went to sleep when it was still dark out, and then got up after the sunrise, to pretend, in a way, that I had slept through the whole night. After I got up, I'd get back on my bike, and start rolling eastward, usually with some oatmeal to eat while pedaling. Not worrying about my speed just yet, I'd be squinting into the new day's sun. The memory of that daily ritual is one of the strongest of the entire experience. As I'd roll towards the light, I'd set my goals for the day: which state lines I'd cross that day, which other racers I'd pass, where I'd want to arrive by nightfall, and how many miles I wanted to ride before I finally took my three hour sleep break. That morning process of setting goals would repeat until the finish line. "The fulness of life lies in dreaming, and manifesting, the impossible dreams," wrote Sri Chinmoy.

Go east, young man: The author during the 1987 Race Across America.

Crossing the finish line of an epic race in the darkness feels more like denouement than climax to me, so finishing in the daylight is always a goal of mine, whenever possible. When I arrived at the Washington Monument after pedaling 3,127 miles in ten days, 23 hours, and 58 minutes, it was just shy of 2pm on a weekday. The whole city was abustle, I felt part of the energy, and the light was streaming down on me. I was alive, and all was well:

"Light" has many other meanings and connotations, as well, and I will explore them more in future posts and articles.

* During RAAM, I did not sleep the first or last nights of the race, so I slept a total of 24 hours during eleven days. Amazingly enough, that's considered a lot by RAAM standards. Many competitors get by on half that amount. I consider that stupid, self-defeating, not athletic, and, for lack of a better word, not very graceful. I definitely rode faster than I otherwise would have as a result of sleeping "so much" during my RAAM.