Never a question of if, but when, and when is now

I’ve never been a fan of electric motor powered bicycles. I call them motorbicyles, not E-Bikes, because it doesn’t matter whether it is an electric motor, an internal combustion engine, a jet engine, or a rocket. It’s still a motor, and in my mind, bikes are supposed to be powered by heart and lungs.

It puts a smile on my face when I am out riding and see an older person riding a powered bike. If they look to be over 80, I give them a huge grin, because they might not be riding at all otherwise. When I see a young, apparently fit person riding a motorbike, well, that puts a frown on my face. To me a motor is inherently cheating, unless it’s the only way bike riding is possible.

I plan on riding a lot longer, hopefully until I die. My plan was to delay getting a motorbike as long as possible, until at least age 80. I have a friend who is 81, healthy and fit, and he rides a regular bicycle. Of course, he lives in a part of the country where the terrain is flat, and he feels no need for a motor.

My favorite part of cycling has always been climbing. Climbing hard on a bike is never easy, but it’s gotten harder for me the last few years, especially on the 15%+ grades that I pretty commonly ride. When I started the Hills of the West Coast ride in 2003, I could do the ride and go really hard for 60+ miles. The HOWC was always a highly competitive climbing focused ride, and usually attracted 15-20+ strong (as in mostly young) riders. I could ride five or six times a week,  including another slightly less intense ride. By the time I stopped leading the ride in 2012 after leading over 300 rides, I could still go hard and then do four more medium to long endurance rides. At that point, I became obsessed with mountain biking for ten plus years, and still rode hard four to six times a week. 

In 2023, I had a road bike renaissance, and I led four HOWC rides after a long hiatus. It was immediately obvious that I wasn't as strong as I used to be. I was now mid-pack on the climbs, and I could tell that things were very...different. I sensed that it wouldn't be long before I became the dreaded "tail gunner" if a strong group showed up for the ride. Only generals lead from the back. I was okay with no longer being a front line soldier, but I sure as hell didn't want to be a general!

In 2024, despite riding over 9000 miles and climbing over 500,000' for the 18th year in a row, I never felt very strong on the bike. I was still very fit, but I was noticeably weaker on the bike. Riding three or four times a week felt about right, and I wasn't motivated to ride hard very often.

I used to be able to do an 80 mile big mountain ride and ride the climbs fairly hard. I did several rides at Mt. Rainier in 2024, and they were survival contests from the start. I did the 5000' climb up to Mission Ridge Ski area, as well as the McNeil Canyon climb. It felt like a different rider was on the bike compared to the other time I rode Mission Ridge in 2013. Between the Chelan Century and leading the Chelan Skills and Hills Cycling Camp, I've probably ridden up McNeil 25 times. In 2024, despite having lower gearing than ever before, McNeil felt like it existed in some alternate dimension, where the riding was much, much harder!

While I can still do these rides and enjoy them, I simply no longer have the aerobic capacity to ride them hard, and I realize that I won't ever again, no matter how high a level of fitness I might be able to achieve.

We’re buying a house on Whidbey Island, and that seems to be the impetus that pushed me over the line to buy a motorbike. The cycling is superb but very difficult. There is hardly a flat section of road, and many very steep grades.

The bike I bought is a Trek Domane + SLR 7: https://www.trekbikes.com/us/en_US/bikes/electric-bikes/electric-road-bikes/domane-slr/domane-slr-7/p/36711/?colorCode=reddark

The bike and its TQ HPR50 motor are designed to feel and ride as close to a regular road bike as possible. The TQ HPR50 motor is a lightweight, compact, super quiet, “minimal assist” motor with a very natural ride feeling and assist up to 28 mph. Cosmetically, it’s hard to tell the Domane + has a motor, as its geometry is identical to the non-motorized bike, and is about as stealthy looking as any motorbike I have seen. The Domane + has slightly stretched out “endurance” geometry, and is smoother riding and more comfortable than the pure racing bikes I have always ridden.

I’ve already learned that I can dial in my effort by selecting the assist level. Without the motor, the bike rides like a normal bike, albeit one that weighs around 28#. Level 1 feels like a tailwind, ranging from light to brisk, depending on how you set up the assist using the software. Level 1 also comes in handy for neutralizing a headwind. Level 2 helps to effectively reduce the grade of any hill. Despite the Domane + being a lower powered motorbike, level 3 honestly turns the bike into a low powered motorcycle although it definitely doesn’t feel like a 160 mph sportbike! With the factory setting, level 3 provides up to 200% of the wattage the rider is producing, with a rating of 250 watts continuous, and 300 watts peak power. At 150 watts, adding 250-300 more transforms the rider into a Tour de France top 10 contender, at least for short periods of time. With 200 watts generated by the rider, another 250-300 results in a climbing velocity that Tadej Pogacar must enjoy. At 250 watts plus 250-300 more, thoughts of riding like Lance Armstrong on peak EPO creep into your mind. Assuming the motorbike rider is capable of it, 300+ watts plus another 250-300 enables one to feel like a true gorilla on the bike! Did I mention that this is fun? Even on the steepest grades, level 3 enables me to maintain a relatively high cadence. That just has to be easier on the joints.

Being a super fit cyclist at age 25 is certainly the purest form of riding in my eyes. Failing that, anything that helps one continue riding seems like a good thing. It’s only been the last year or two that I can even admit to myself that I am “getting older”. I’m still nowhere near admitting that I am “old”. I hope I never get to where I start thinking like that. I am counting on the bike to keep me "young".

Yes, I now have a bike with a motor. I also have four other bikes (two road, two mountain bikes) that do not have a motor, not counting the 1996 Bianchi Tour de France bike hanging on our wall. Before I got the new motorbicycle, I thought I might ride my S-Works Tarmac twice a week and do hard rides, and maybe ride the motorbike the rest of the time. After my first ride on the new bike, I am now thinking that perhaps all of my other bikes just became obsolete.

I still view a motor as cheating, but it’s possible to get as much of a riding workout as you want to. Just turn off the boost, or do some really steep hills with minimal boost. Dial it in as you go.

My training plan has always been to ride lots and have fun. Becoming pretty fit has always been a side effect of that. Whether I have a motor or not, I expect that will continue.

I have over 200,000 miles riding bicycles, and another 50,000 or so on motorcycles, mostly high powered sport bikes. My first ride on the Trek was the most fun I have had on two wheels in a long, long time, especially considering the temperature was only 40 degrees!

I already love this bike, so much that I have ordered one for my wife Tracy. She should have it by Valentine’s Day.

Steve Hulsman R.I.P.

Steve Hulsman was tragically killed in a collision with an automobile on December 21st. https://www.seattlebikeblog.com/2023/12/23/man-killed-while-biking-in-west-seattle-identified-as-steven-hulsman/  Update https://www.seattlebikeblog.com/2024/01/19/police-person-who-killed-steve-hulsman-was-driving-with-a-suspended-license/

I think about Steve every time I ride, and often when not on the bike.

I first met Steve around 2006 when he started to show up for the Hills of the West Coast ride that I had started in 2003. After coming on the ride for a while he began to unofficially help me keep the ride organized. Back then we were getting up to 35 riders, so his efforts were much appreciated! Eventually, we talked about him becoming a Cascade Bicycle Club Ride Leader. I don’t remember if he asked about becoming a ride leader, or if I suggested it, but I still remember the day we discussed it. Of course I encouraged him, and I became his Cascade Ride Leader mentor. He led the HOWC several times as part of the check ride process. 

After moving to Issaquah at the end of 2010, I continued to lead the HOWC with a start at Tibbets Park. Although Steve lived in West Seattle, he still made a lot of the rides. I was quickly becoming addicted to mountain biking, and after ten years of leading the HOWC I was losing interest in leading it. I suggested that Steve start leading the ride and he eagerly agreed.

I went back through my cycling blog to read comments I had made about Steve. I thought I would share some of the words that for me really describe what Steve was all about. He was totally unselfish, and incredibly generous with a constantly positive attitude. That is what I will remember about him. That, and the fact that he never hesitated to go to the front and help out the group, no matter how long the ride, or how tired he might be. Steve had class. Steve (kneeling) at the Chelan Century.

From 11-14-09 https://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/2009/11/11-14-09-hills-of-west-coast.html

Jeff led the ride today, but the true protagonist was Steve H., who went to the front and picked up the pace anytime we got a little too chatty. Warren was game as always to ride hard, but it was Steve who drove the ride. Rolling home up Lake Washington north of Seward Park, Steve was at it again. Since he had done so much work on the front already, we encouraged him to finish it out and pull all the way to the hill leading to the I-90 tunnel overlook.

Steve’s almost always willing to sacrifice himself for the good of the group, and he said, “Sure, but you guys will just drop me on the hill.” To which I replied, “Don’t worry about that. We’ll make a deal with you—you do the pulling and we will ride up the hill with you.” A quick consensus formed that this was indeed a great strategy late in the ride. When we got to the hill, Steve just kept the hammer down, and no concession needed to be made. We did ride up the hill with Steve, but not at an “I’m cooked” pace. Steve third from left with me standing on his left.

From 5-2-10: https://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/2010/05/522010-howc-ride-report-soldier-of-day.html 

As I mentioned, I will be adding a new category to the header of this blog called “Soldier(s) of the Day.” Rather than publish the score of which riders climbed the fastest, I’ll be listing the riders who stood out by unselfishly helping on the ride. Today that was Steve Hulsman, just as it often is. Steve is always eager to jump on the front. So eager, as a matter of fact, that late in today’s ride, I would ride up around him to give him a break and inevitably, he would ride alongside of me instead of on my wheel. Maybe Steve subscribes to the triathlete in training mantra of, “You may share my wind, but you may not take my wind?” Seriously, Steve did spend time not on the front, but he was up there a lot. Given the amount of climbing we did today, there were not a lot of bona fide paceline opportunities, but for me that just made it even more obvious as to how much Steve was helping out.

From 5-9-10: https://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/2010/05/5-9-2010-hills-of-west-coast-mothers.html 

Last week’s Soldier became this week’s General. Steve led the ride to meet part of the requirements to become a Ride Leader for Cascade Bicycle Club, and he did a great job. Of course, having a group of experienced riders never hurts and we had another great group today. Steve did a nice job with the pre-ride safety talk, and as always, emphasis was placed on emphatically pointing out hazards to the riders behind you.  Steve’s comment on the post read, “Thanks again Tom. That's quite a promotion in just one week. I'm afraid of what it will be next week... ;o)”

From 5-1-11: https://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/2011/05/miles-61.html 

Soldier of the Day: N/A as we mostly shared the front (but Steve H. gets a big honorable mention for singlehandedly pulling the group at the end of the ride from Cedar Grove Road all the way to Tibbets)

From  6-12-11 https://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/2011/06/metal-cowboys-its-not-about-bikeat-all.html 

Soldier of the Day: Steve H for showing up and riding hard (4:40 Flying Wheels 100 yesterday and 70m more at a 20mph average speed today. Steve spent more time on the front than a lot of us, including me)

It’s ironic that I returned to leading HOWC rides from Issaquah in the summer of 2023, while Steve continued to lead HOWC rides from Seattle. I plan on leading more HOWC rides starting in the spring, and for sure, I will be thinking of Steve.

Mountain biking: To crash or not to crash broken right collarbone edition

It seems a bit tardy to call this a followup to my last post on my cycling blog! Four years ago to the day, I published my blog titled Mountain biking: To crash or not to crash. That is (one of) the questions. Becoming a 75%er:

http://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/2016/06/mountain-biking-to-crash-or-not-to.html

It’s time for an update.

After some 250,000+ miles of riding, including well over 35,000 miles on mountain bikes, I joined the Cyclist Broken Collarbone Club on March 16th. They say it is not if, but when, a cyclist will break a collarbone. It took a while, but I got there.

Every year, my number one objective is to not fall off my bike. I have not had a road bike fall since 2007 (knock on wood), but the mountain bike is a different animal. In 2017, I made it all the way until November before I took a totally innocuous little fall. I try and limit my descending speeds to within 75% of what I perceive as my limit, based on my skills, trail conditions including sight lines, how I feel that day, etc. I constantly work on developing techniques to enable me to ride smoother, and more in control.

It’s not that I am scared of falling off, or even of getting hurt. It’s time off of the bike that I am scared of. The older you are, the longer the recovery. No matter how fit or genetically blessed one might be, it is a simple fact that older bones and tendons do not heal like 21 year old parts. The other sad part of the equation is that it generally takes three times as long to regain fitness as it does to lose it, and that also increases with age. In some cases, an older athlete may never regain all of the fitness lost during an extended period off of the bike. I love to ride my bike as much as possible. I love the feeling of being really fit. Being unable to ride for any length of time is just not acceptable. I hope to ride bikes until I die, but I know I will finish up on road bikes. I don’t have forever left to ride mountain bikes, so hurting myself and costing me precious time is not good.

It’s a lot of fun nailing the perfect rhythm on a descent. The scary thing as it relates to my crash is that I wasn’t even descending, nor was I pushing the envelope in a tricky section of trail. I was on flat ground and not riding hard at all, traversing a short section of tree roots that I had ridden across a thousand times previously. I had just passed two riders. As I look back on the crash, I wonder if I was distracted somehow. Did I subconsciously think I knew the riders? Was I trying to conjure up a name? Was there something else that caused me to lose focus? I keep coming up with the same answer: I just seriously messed up somehow while riding a section of trail on auto-pilot. One should never put it on auto-pilot when riding, but it’s pretty damn hard to focus 100% of the time on a four hour ride. I guess I wish that I had crashed while doing something over the edge stupid, but I try not to ever ride that way!

Of course, mountain bike riding is inherently dangerous. Obviously, that is part of the attraction. I’m still searching for the “lessons learned” component of my fall, but the crash has only reinforced previous lessons learned. Falling off sucks, and it seems like a highly experienced and skilled rider should be able to avoid it. That would be a good thing, because highly skilled riders are usually going pretty fast when they fall off.

Against the “strong suggestion” of my surgeon, I have been riding my road bike for the last month, as well as the mountain bike on local gravel roads. It will interesting to see how I feel when I get back out on real trails with real risk. I will want to ride conservatively as I shake off the rust, but not tentatively. Full time concentration will be something I will be working on, but I have always done my best to keep my head in the game at all times. 

Climbing has always been my favorite part of riding, but what goes up, must go down, and I’ve been able to go downhill pretty well without taking unnecessary risks. I will have to keep what is in the back of my mind out of my mind when I’m on the bike, and not let it creep into my riding. Relaxing will be key, as will not dwelling on the past. Perhaps my whole approach to riding will change. If so, I will embrace wherever that takes me.

Mountain biking: To crash or not to crash. That is (one of) the questions. Becoming a 75%er

When I was a little kid, I wanted to be a Formula One driver or a fighter pilot when I grew up. Not a police officer, fire fighter, or even an astronaut. Not even a rock 'n' roll star, although in hindsight I think that would have been very cool.

During college, I interviewed with the Navy regarding their fighter pilot training program. Notwithstanding the fact that I didn't like taking orders, flying fighters off of carriers seemed like a perfect way to spend some time after college until I figured out what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Looking back, I think I declined to pursue Navy flying because the military vibe was at a very low ebb at that time. More likely, I probably was concerned about my fate if it turned out that I wasn't good enough to make the fighter pilot cut. Spending seven years flying tankers or cargo planes would have been, for me, miserable.

I have always liked going fast, and have often been willing to pay the consequences for doing so. I had major shoulder surgery in January. The root of this surgery (the second time my left shoulder has been operated on) goes all the way back to a motorcycle racing crash when I was nineteen. Sure, years of wear and tear from golf, rock climbing, etc, have taken their toll, but I have not had a normal fully healthy left shoulder since that crash. Post-surgery, I endured three months of not being able to ride my road bike, and five months of no mountain biking.

Now that I have been back riding my mountain bike for a week, I find myself contemplating my riding philosophy going forward. My main goal at the present time is to protect my shoulder, as I certainly don't want to do anything to damage the surgical repair. I find myself riding conservatively, not cautiously, as that can easily turn into tentativeness, which is not good.

I probably should not even think this, let alone write it, but I have not had a DWI (Dismount Without Intent) while riding a road bike since 2007. Since that time, I have ridden over 60,000 miles. Prior to that, it was another 50,000 miles or so since I had a DWI. I have to wonder if it is possible to have a similar track record while mountain biking?

I do cross country style mountain biking and ride a pure and highly focused XC race bike. With XC, the emphasis is more on climbing than descending. Cross country riding is certainly not as dangerous as Downhill or Enduro riding, but XC bikes do not have as much suspension travel, and therefore are less forgiving when ridden fast. There is not a lot of margin for error when ridden on the edge.

I spent some time working on descending with a few of the riders who attended our seventh annual Cycle U Chelan Skills and Hills Cycling Camp in May. The mantra I tried to convey is, "No one is paying you to ride fast downhill." The key to improving descending ability is to gain confidence through skill development. No matter how skilled a rider becomes, my mantra is a reminder to ride well within your skill level. Perhaps it is time for a keener focus on practicing what I preach?

Just like with alpine skiing, learning to mountain bike involves falling. Building skills requires constantly pushing the limit just a bit, otherwise, a rider is not likely to make much progress. Most of the falls a beginning rider takes are rather innocuous, unless a rider continually pushes way beyond their current skill level. Newer riders tend to avoid tricky terrain, and ride at slow speeds, thereby helping to ensure that most falls are not serious.

I don't fall off of my mountain bike very often, perhaps 2-4 times a year. The problem is that my falls are not usually the harmless type that a beginner takes. Having spent over 2000 hours riding mountain bikes, I am well beyond that stage. No, the falls I typically experience almost always occur when I am riding at "85-90%." Riding at 100% is for racing (a whole other discussion as relates to crashing), but a skilled and experienced rider is usually going pretty hard and fast at 85-90%. These falls hurt!

I could easily attribute my new found desire to not crash to age, but that's not it, as I was often pushing hard until my surgery. I am simply no longer willing to accept the consequences of falling off of my bike. Even though my shoulder surgery had nothing to do with mountain biking, going through the months and months of rehab has resulted in a new appreciation for the value in not injuring myself.

I have nothing to prove at this point of my life, to myself or anyone else. Nevertheless, I guess I am satisfied that I have a lot of great past results on Strava, and I certainly don't feel any need to push hard going forward. I'm not likely to improve upon any of my results that involve any downhill (or even flat) riding sections. Peer pressure can be a funny thing as relates to something like Strava, but I'm not feeling it.

I now have an unusual goal for the remainder of 2016. I am not going to fall off of my mountain bike. I figure that the best way to do that is to ride at a 75% speed potential or less. I won't ride with some of the people I know who ride fast all of the time, but perhaps I will enjoy riding with more people who never ride fast. I don't expect riding my mountain bike will be any less fun. I'm riding at less than 50% currently, and having a ball!

It's funny how things work out...for the best

I’ve spent almost 2000 hours riding mountain bikes on the local trails near where we live: Duthie, Grand Ridge, Soaring Eagle, and Tiger Mountain. I had never seen a unicycle on the trails until yesterday, when I encountered one at Grand Ridge. Today I saw another unicycle over at Duthie. What are the odds of this occurring, one in a million? 

In any case, while I was riding today, I was thinking about fate, serendipity, and how what seem to be random events can link up and determine the future path one’s life will take.

In 2009, author John Summerson sent a copy of his book The Complete Guide to Climbing (By Bike) to Cascade Bicycle Club:

http://www.amazon.com/Complete-Guide-Climbing-Bike/dp/0979257107/ref=sr_1_7?ie=UTF8&qid=1450666149&sr=8-7&keywords=the+complete+guide+to+climbing+by+bike

 At the time, I wrote a monthly fitness column for the Cascade Courier, and I was asked if I wanted to write a review of the book for my column. Had John not sent the book, or if I were not involved with Cascade, I would not have become enamored with the idea of a cycling trip to the Eastern Sierras of California. In June of 2010, David Longdon and I made the trip (I returned in 2014 with John Pottle), and a few months later we did a presentation on our adventures for almost 200 people at the Seattle REI: 

http://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/search?q=sierras

Had David and I not needed to fill up the gas tank on the way home we wouldn’t have stopped in Eugene, Oregon. David had lived in Eugene, and we took some time to have lunch, and do a walking and driving tour around town. I was so impressed with Eugene, upon returning to Seattle, I discussed with Tracy the idea of a potential move to Eugene some day. The very next weekend we drove to Eugene to learn more about the area. I took a bike, and one of David’s old friends was gracious enough to show me around on a ride. Over lunch, Ian and his wife were happy to elaborate on why they were so passionate about life in Eugene.

A week later, had I not been out riding in Issaquah, I would not have had an epiphany about where we would choose to live for what we feel could be many years. As I was descending Mountain Park Blvd, laid out below me was the little downtown area of Issaquah. As I cruised by the fish hatchery and brew pub, I realized that Issaquah felt an awful lot like Eugene to me. Even better than Eugene actually, as Issaquah is nestled in the foothills, and Eugene is 3-4 miles from the surrounding hills, and of course Issaquah is close to one of the greatest cities in America. In addition, not only did we already live in the Seattle area, Washington doesn’t have a 9.9% personal income tax like Oregon! Tracy and I had lived happily in Downtown Seattle for ten years, but in late December of 2010, we were packing up and moving to a rented townhouse in Issaquah. 

After a little over a year of careful contemplation, we found a “project” property, and spent a year working with an architect and contractor to turn it into exactly the kind of house we could live in forever.

Had Tracy and I not moved to Issaquah, I would never have considered giving mountain biking a try. Now I spend countless hours (well, almost 2000 anyway) riding the local trails. So in a way, reviewing that book became a life changing experience for me.

Speaking of Tracy…

In 1998, I was distracted and preoccupied with work related issues. Had I not been, I would have taken a typical planned vacation during “tax deadline” week in mid-April. At the last minute with no previous thought as to taking a trip, I entered “solo travel” as an internet search. The first site that popped up was Club Med. After a quick phone call (it was just easier that way back then), I had made arrangements for an all inclusive trip to Playa Blanca in Mexico. 

The following week I found myself in Playa Blanca. I had always wanted to try a Club Med trip, based on its 70’s reputation for decadence. What I discovered instead was a social environment where it was easy to meet people and make friends. Had one of the guys I was hanging out with not met Tracy’s roommate and her “group,” I likely wouldn’t have found myself meeting Tracy. Had Tracy not had a little bit too much to drink that night, she might have been a bit shy when we met. The next day at the pool, I might not have noticed Tracy if she had not decided to dive in to the water near where I was sitting.

Lest I forget, had Tracy not been a teacher on spring break during the same week, she wouldn’t have been in Mexico when I was. In fact, had her girlfriend not cancelled on her for their long planned trip to Hawaii, she wouldn’t have thought about Club Med, made the call, and found her way to Playa Blanca.

It’s funny how things work out. Had I not reviewed that book in 2009, I wouldn’t have seen the unicycles riding on the trails yesterday and today. 

Had I not been too busy to think about a spring vacation in 1998, I would not have experienced the most significant turn of events of my lifetime. I wouldn’t be married to Tracy. We wouldn’t have spent the last 17 years together, and we wouldn’t be making plans to spend the rest of our lives together. Indeed, it is funny how things work out, and in this case, work out for the best.

Ride Younger and Don't Act Your Age: Bad Ass Birthday Ride

October is always a rainy month, but this year has been exceptionally so. We've had about two inches of rain over just the last 36 hours. On my birthday morning, it was still raining heavily. Some people like to celebrate their birthday by "riding their age" in miles on their road bike. I prefer doing something a little more challenging, although riding on the road in today's deluge would have certainly been more than challenging, and perhaps a little masochistic!

I came up with a plan of riding my age in minutes of hard effort on the mountain bike. Given the mud and rain, I guess I could say that today's entire ride was hard, but I counted only the minutes where I was going hard physically. Going hard, but not very fast, is the best way to describe it. Because of the conditions, I decided to stay on the south side of Grand Ridge, as the north side and Duthie don't drain nearly as well. I expected today to be a solo odyssey, but I did see one trail runner. Dressed in pink, her smile told me that she was having as good a time as I was.

http://app.strava.com/activities/214031542

So the ride was almost a pure up-down-up-down-up-down kind of thing. It was either raining or "training" (previous rain shaken from the trees) for the entire ride, and the forest canopy was so dense I couldn't differentiate between the two.

Cycling has proven to be an incredible Fountain of Youth for me. Over the years, I have done a really good job of ignoring the calendar and my chronological age. It's been more difficult this year, because I have finally allowed some shock to creep in about my age. But I am riding "younger" than I ever have, and I block any thought of my real age out of my mind when I am on the bike. I am the leanest I have ever been, my fitness level is very high, and I am climbing faster on the bike than I ever have before. Most importantly, riding a bike still makes me feel just a little bit like a kid.

While I have a love-hate view of Strava, I do have to admit that it is good for several things that are very important to me. Most critically, I can compare today's me with last year's me on the same timed segments. Assuming I made a fairly consistent effort, I get a relative idea of my fitness between then and now.

In addition, with the Strava leaderboards, I don't have to risk life and limb in a race or sketchy group ride to get a feel for how I am doing compared to a universe of local riders. It's possible to see how you compare to everyone, or just the people you follow, or those in the same clubs. With a premium membership, one can also compare their times with different weight classes and age groups.

I take a look at the full leaderboards, and almost never even think to look at the age group leaderboards. After all, riding age is what counts to me, and I seem to have done pretty well at decoupling that from my actual age.

Of course it is not if, but when, I will slow down significantly on the bike. I'll fight that as long as I can, by eating well and riding smarter. Hell, I'll just ride harder if need be to keep up with last year's me:)

When the day comes that I start to look at the Strava age groups for signs of success (or an excuse for lack thereof), I will have thrown in the towel. Perhaps that day will come when I simply can no longer do well within the general universe of riders, or when I reach a certain chronological age number that I can no longer ignore.

In any case, even if I have to resort to taking a peek at the age group boards, I will still be trying to ride as young as I can. My real riding goal is to keep my riding age around 50-75% of my chronological age. Of course that is subjective, and I am the only person doing the evaluation, but I'll be honest with myself.

The importance of how strong I am on the bike will naturally diminish as I age. If all else, fails, I'll just revel in feeling a little bit like a kid when I am on the bike. After all, that is the true Fountain of Youth that riding a bike can provide.

Two Car or Not Two Car: That is the Question

Today, Tracy and I did something we have never done before. We went for a day drive simply to drive, including a visit to Camano Island, one of the rare places in the state of Washington we had not been to. We had no end destination in mind. We didn’t drive to go hiking or snowshoeing somewhere, or to shop at a Factory Outlet Mall!

We racked up 208 miles, first taking the highway to Marysville, and then driving the full loop of Camano. We stopped for a nice lunch in Stanwood, and then we went driving home on back roads that I knew from cycling to be quiet, twisty, and hilly. We took Burn road from Arlington to Granite Falls. To get to Sultan from Granite Falls, we took Menzel Lake Road, Lake Roesinger Road, Woods Creek, Old Pipeline, and Reinert Road. From Sultan to Monroe, we used Ben Howard Road. I can highly recommend all of these roads as being fantastic for driving or cycling, although there are no shoulders. I can’t comment about weekend traffic, but during a weekday there is very light traffic through this area.

What might the impetus for the drive have been?

We spent a good part of New Year’s Eve buying a new Subaru Forester Touring model with a safety package called the Eyesight Driver Assist Program. This was our first car purchase since we bought a new Forester in 2004. We now have two cars in the garage for the first time since May of 2001.

Of course, we didn’t “need” a new car at all, as our Forester is still in perfect condition and only has 85,000 miles on it. We barely have much use for even one car, let alone two! I didn’t really grasp why we needed a new car, but Tracy had always had ten years in her mind as a logical replacement time, and she drives the car 90% of the time. She just felt like she wanted to get a new car, and the safety enhancements in the redesigned 2014 Forester were the icing on the cake.

The choice to get another Forester was pretty easy, as the Forester suits our outdoors lifestyle perfectly; the one we already own has been a great car. We didn’t have any interest in something super fancy, although the Touring version of the Forester comes loaded with a lot of luxury features in addition to the safety stuff. Actually, the major reason we bought the top finish level Touring model was that the Eyesight option package was not available on the less expensive models.

http://www.subaru.com/engineering/safety.html#safety_eyeSight

We certainly don’t need a larger SUV, and we never thought about buying a regular passenger car. The fact that the 2014 Forester is Motor Trend’s SUV of the year and Consumer Reports top rated and highest recommended small SUV didn’t hurt either.

We could have opted for the higher horsepower Forester XT, which also can be ordered in a Touring version. Tracy has zero interest in more horsepower, and as previously mentioned, she is the one using the car most of the time. Besides, the XT wheels looked really ugly to us, and that just wouldn’t work! We never seriously considered the XT, and that got me to thinking about cars in general, and how I use and view them these days.

I was very fortunate to be able to “retire” from the investment business at a pretty young age:

http://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/2010/01/picasso-was-born-to-paint-armstrong-to.html

I met Tracy in 1998, and I moved to the Seattle area on 1/1/2000. Moving to Downtown Seattle in 2001 provided the perfect scenario to test a one car strategy. I sold my remaining sports car, which had already become superfluous due to sporadic use.

At the time, Tracy drove to her full time job over on the Eastside, but since moving to the Seattle area, I have never been a commuter. We don’t have kids to haul around. On weeknights and weekends, the car remained in the garage unless we went to the mountains or have a social event outside of downtown. We walked everywhere, and I had a fixed gear single speed bike I used for both fun and errand running.

The thought of adding a second car never entered our minds when we left Downtown Seattle after almost ten years and moved to central Olde Town Issaquah. I sold the single speed, but we still walk to the town center from our house on Squak Mountain, and run errands on our bikes to the Farmers Market and a few other places. One of the major location requirements for the house was that it had to be a ten minute or less walk to town. I now ride a mountain bike in addition to riding on the road, but I ride to the local trails. We live a quarter mile from a hiking trailhead on Squak, and I still love to walk as much as ever. I walk for both pleasure and to run errands, and I hope to continue doing that (as well as cycling!) until I am a very, very old man.

Tracy is now a part time education consultant, and normally uses her car two days a week for work, except in the summer. I can use the car most other days, but I find I rarely do so. Often I will think of a destination cycling trip I would need to use the car for, consider the planning and traffic involved, and wind up just riding out of my garage.

For me, the “pleasure” of driving is gone, and it is now more of a burden…although I must admit I had a blast today on our drive in the new car. We don’t have the fantastic deserted mountain roads that I drove in Colorado, and we live in a wet climate, so there isn’t much of a reason to have a special sports car or sports bike. I’d spend more time cleaning it than riding or driving!

Cars are meant to be used for transportation, and of course that is always going to be their primary use. In my twenties and early thirties, I also drove for pleasure and sport. I lived in Denver, and had a job that required me to travel throughout the Rocky Mountain West. Rather than take puddle jumpers, I explored just about every possible paved road using high performance cars, including two Porsches. I was something of a “professional speeder,” but in those days the Rockies were full of wide open prairie roads, great mountain and canyon roads, and very few law enforcement officers. It was a great place to drive fast before traffic became overwhelming.

As I got older, I still used cars for transportation, work, and convenience. I owned two cars most of the time when I was single, normally a sports car for fun and a more utilitarian car I used just to get around. I also often had a sport bike motorcycle as well! At some point, I started to notice that instead of a convenience, cars were starting to become an inconvenience, especially two of them.

Not owning two cars for the past 12+ years has very rarely been an inconvenience with our lifestyle. In fact, not having a second car has felt less inconvenient than maintaining two cars would have been. Now that we have two cars in the garage, we have decided to take a little time to evaluate whether we want to keep or sell the old Forester. The potential lack of use is a real factor.

Since 2001, I am not sure if I could recall more than a few times when not having my own car inconvenienced me. Yes, it does mean that I sometimes ride with friends when we leave town on a cycling expedition, but it doesn’t happen often enough that I think I have been a PITA. Even if I consider “elective” times I would have driven, not having a second car just has not been an issue.

The “cost” of keeping the second Forester would not be very high, and it’s not like we have any specific plans for the amount the car would likely sell for. If we keep the car, we would likely keep it indefinitely, and I doubt it would cost much to maintain a car that we would rarely use. What is probably more significant is the psychological “cost” of keeping the car while it mostly just takes up space in our garage.

As I said, our pleasure drive today was the first that Tracy and I have ever done together. As a matter of fact, I can’t remember a single drive just for the sake of a drive after I moved away from Denver in 1994. When I was growing up, we always had two cars. My father loved cars, and every year we would trade the car that was two years old in for a new car. Every Sunday my parents would take my sister and me for a drive. Suzy and I looked forward to this treat. It was a pure pleasure drive that always involved a stop at a Dairy Queen. For many years, I drove cars for pleasure. But when I moved to Dallas where I lived for six years before coming to Seattle, driving for pleasure ceased. There isn’t a whole lot of reason to get in a car and explore the Texas countryside, and you have to search far and wide for the curvy and hilly roads on which to use a sports car.

While I had always thought any second car, would be a fun car, if I ever do get another sports car, it wouldn’t be a new one. I’d be looking for a rare 1967 Porsche 911S. There would be no air bags or air conditioning, and the windows would be crank powered. Or maybe I should get one of these, especially if horsepower were important, as either option would have more horsepower than our new car:

http://powersports.honda.com/2014/cbr1000rr.aspx

http://www.bmwmotorcycles.com/us/en/index.html?content=http://www.bmwmotorcycles.com/us/en/bike/sportbikes/hp4/hp4_overview.html&notrack=1

I doubt I would use a 911S or sport bike more than once or twice a month, which is likely about the same as I would drive the old Forester. I am left to wonder whether there is a perfect equation that will help us determine if keeping the old car is worth it for very occasional use, or if it would be more of a burden just taking up space in the garage.