Fellow MMCC Members:

Two years ago you elected me as President of MMCC, and what a "ride" it has been!  In the course of the last couple of years I have watched this club grow into what it is today - a group of fun, determined, talented and PROUD riders who have proven themselves in many challenges from the Bulldog Bike Race to the Tour de Francis.  I am proud to have been your president, and now it is time for me to turn over the keys to the "Orange Train" to our new president, Edgar.  I hope that I have left the group in better condition today than it was a couple of years ago.  There have been some challenges along the way, but as in any fledgling group we have figured out how to make things work.  Despite the challenges, we have had a lot of fun on our Sunday rides on our hometown roads, as well as everywhere else we have ridden. 

The founders of MMCC, Chairmen Sammy and Roger, probably had no idea several years ago what they had started, and to their credit they started with a great group of guys riding to have fun and to share their passion for cycling.  I was fortunate to have eventually met them at an event ride early in 2006, and since then I have enjoyed riding hundreds and hundreds of miles with this great group of friends!  MMCC is made up of good people who attract more good people, who happen to enjoy riding bikes, too!  We're not necessarily the fastest or the strongest riders out there, but we do as much suffering as anyone else, and we do it PROUDLY wearing orange! 

As president I did my best to listen to all of you who had something to say, because I know that those of you who gave me their input were genuinely interested in the betterment of the club.  I thank you for your contributions no matter how big or small.  It wasn't the president who made this club work - it was the members who: showed up for the Sunday rides; rode SAG for those who weren't as strong; came to the potlucks; graciously opened up their homes for our get-togethers;  kept us informed of the condition of other members good and bad;  were good ambassadors to our guests;  helped with flats and other mechanical problems; and the list goes on.  This is what MMCC is about, and I am proud to have been the leader of this group for the past two years!

Now it is time for someone else to lead the Orange Train, but I will continue in the VP spot offering my assistance to Edgar and my "2-cents" whenever he asks.  I will be turning my attention to other endeavors, including some off-road riding! 

I would like to thank all of you for helping to make this club a success as it continues to grow, and for your friendship and company on our many Sunday rides and event rides.  There's no other group I would like to suffer with, and I look forward to riding many, many more miles with you all in the future.  I wish our new president and my fellow officers much success in the coming weeks and months, and I hope to see our MMCC members continue to make positive contributions to the club as well as to our cycling community!

Thanks again for all of your support!

Mike

If there's one thing that's not fun, it's riding in pouring rain.  However, there are some things I think are worth doing, especially when I spend 99% of my life in the comfort of my home, office, car, or out doing something fun in nice weather!  The SDBC Toy Ride is one of those things worth doing no matter what.  

Once a year a dedicated bunch of cyclists from all over San Diego, young and old, hop on their bikes to haul toys of every kind from UC Cyclery in La Jolla Village Square through Rose Canyon, Mission Bay, Old Town, Mission Valley, and down University Avenue to the Ray & Joan Kroc Center where volunteers eagerly await their toy donations.  

This year three kids in elf suits returned to brave the cold, rain and wind to participate in the ride.  I asked a little girl - maybe 8 years old - "Are you having fun?"  The answer was already written on her face with her huge smile that went from ear-to-ear as she happily pedaled her little road bike through the rain.  "Yeah!", she replied, upon which I asked, "Is it more fun in the rain?"  "YEAH!!!" she answered excitedly.  She and the rest of the participants were on a mission - as they are every year at this time - to deliver a little something that will brighten up the life of a less-fortunate child they probably will never know.  That's what the Toy Ride is all about, and that's why it's well worth doing! 

August 15, 2009 a date that will be etched in my mind for the next couple of months. This was the TDF Palmdale summer stage that the sadistic bike ride architect Francis Ignacio concocted to inflict pain and suffering to masochists; us cycling fanatics who despite warnings endured the windy cold start, oppressive sun and endless punishing climbs that has become his signature. And for what, why do we do this, why do we keep coming to his house of pain? Well for those dedicated cyclists, die-hard roadies, and hardcore goats, the answer is easy.  It's the challenge, the test of will, the desire to push the body beyond its limits and the satisfaction and glory of overcoming all these in one hard ride. It's a trial that taxes your mental and physical endurance; how fast can you go, how long can you last, how much can you push, how much pain can you take?

Manny, Agt Al and Allan R. picked me up at 3:10 am from my house in Poway. I didn't get a good sleep cause I kept turning and was kind of dreading this ride.  I had been on vacation for a couple of weeks and have had only about 3 rides for the last 3 weeks. I also gained a few pounds during my vacation. I went anyway and was also excited to ride cause I've never ridden in Palmdale and Big Pines Highway that led to Angeles Crest.  I tried to sleep in the car but was only able to nap for an hour intermittently. I chatted with  kuya Manny every now and then to make sure he was OK. I shouldn't complain though cause Allan worked until an hour before Manny picked him up. How he finished the ride and finish ahead of many people is a testament of his power and endurance. Agt Al even though he had work commitments was able to come with us. We met Cliff at the staging area and Gerald  also came though I didn't see him at the start.

 

I had investigated the possible route on Google maps and posted it on the MMCC shoutbox.  At the start Francis came up to me and told me I missed two climbs. Oh, oh, it's even harder than I thought.  In honor of the Filipino tradition we started the 6:30 ride close to 7 am. The first 5 miles or so were fairly flat interspersed with mild gradients. It was neutralized for the first few miles to keep the hammerheads from dropping the slower riders, me included.  As soon as we reached Mt Emma, the front riders started to increase the pace. Not wanting to be left too far behind, I speeded up to them and since Allan was there, I was comfortable to draft behind him. After about 15 minutes at 27-30 mph I heard that familiar sound of a flat tire. Dang, not again, so I slowed down and looked at my tires. The front 7 or so riders left me as I checked my wheels. My tires looked OK.  I asked another rider as the rest caught up to me if my tires were flat. They were not. The heat and the sun had softened the tar and the road which caused the sticking tires and made that noise. It took me about 7 minutes to bridge the gap and caught up to the leaders. I would pay later for the effort.

Since I had my mountain cassette I was able to spin comfortably.  After a while I dropped from the front cause I couldn't keep the pace they set and I wanted to save my legs. I chatted with and rode next to Jun Usi of the Adobos.  From a distance I saw on my helmet mirror a red pick up truck with its blinkers on pull up with Filipino songs blaring. Wouldn't you know it, it's Gerald. He encouraged me to keep spinning which I dutifully obeyed. It's comforting to have a familiar face sagging along with Manny and Francis and the rest of the Adobo crew. Except for a couple of flats with slight descents, the road kept going up and up.  Cliff soon passed me a couple of miles at the 9% climb to the first stop at the Devil's Punchbowl; a foreboding name. This was one of the climbs I missed on Google Maps.  Agt Al came up and I stayed with him for a few minutes but then he turned on his afterburners and left me. I remembered Edgar's advice and rode at my pace.

At mile 20 or so Francis had the aid station set up complete with bananas, oranges, grapes, water, and assorted foods to rehydrate and fuel up.  Manny and Gerald were waiting along with Allan, Cliff, and Agt. Al. After removing my leg and arm warmers and vest I refilled my bottles and sampled their foods. I waited a bit and chatted with another cyclist while waiting at the bathroom.  I told her the ride was challenging and I shouldn't have any problems unless I cramped up. When I got back on my bike, the MMCC riders had already left. I was able to hang on to some fast riders for the descent to the next climb. We passed many cyclists along the way. I found out later that two of them finished the ride first with the front group. 

All of a sudden my quads cramped.  At mile 25 I stopped and unclipped. Both of my vastus mediales had knotted and panic almost set in. I relaxed and rested for a few minutes all the while riders passed by me. Now that I think about it, nobody asked me if I was OK, maybe they did and it didn't register. I drank 2 endurolytes with water and hoped for the best.  I carefully mounted my bike and  slowly pedaled. It was a bit flat so it helped. I spinned and gradually caught up to some riders.  I saw Rosalie and her friend and decided to ride with them. My cramp gradually went away but not completely.  It was just enough for me to keep up with them; but getting out of the saddle or pushing hard was a no no. As soon as I pedaled harder the cramp came back so I had to back off and spin the whole time.  We were climbing between 6-7.5 mph at that point.  Unbeknownst to me Rosalie was also cramping up. After another 45 minutes or so we stopped to refill out bottles with Manny. Rosalie had to be helped off the bike due to her cramps. Her friend massaged her quads to alleviate the pain. 

We resumed our climb after about 10 minutes. Except for a couple of short flats and slight descents, the gradient never let up.  I was so hot that I drank both bottles in no time. I told Rosalie to go on ahead while I refilled with Manny. Manny was my saviour today. I'm so glad he was there and always just ahead not too far away.  Thank you so much.  The hill got steeper and the heat was draining my energy. My cramps were coming on and off. I slowed to 4-5 mph. I started to question my sanity.  Did I want to keep going? Why am I punishing my self? So many times I wanted to stop and end the suffering. I could have easily gone back to Manny for a ride to the top. At times I rode at 3.5 mph just enough to keep moving and not fall down. Now I know that zigzagging can save the day.  When it was safe I rode on the left side of the rode to get some shade.

An Adobo sag vehicle drove by and I think it was Ricky who stuck out two fingers said just two miles to go. I could have stuck out one finger but I needed both hands on the handlebar to keep from falling.  Finally... so close to the summit. I got to the final mile and Gerald was there to give me a hand. He got behind me and gave a push for a good minute or two. Thanks Gerald. That was a relief.  He said just one more mile but it was very steep.  He was right. I heard 9-12 % grade. This was the second climb I missed on Google Maps.  At this point my BBQ was shot.  My back, my butt, and my quads were giving out.  If I climbed out of the saddle my butt pain would subside, but my quads would soon cramp and lock up.  Over the span of about 15 minutes it was a difficult balance of which pain I could endure.  It was agonizingly slow for me but I was able to call on my depleted reserves one last time and persevered.  My cramps were knocking and I was bonking.  Slowly and painfully I passed some riders who were stopped at the side of the road. I was not the only one suffering. After what seemed to be an eternity I heard laughter and voices just around the bend. The finality of the climb boosted my energy just enough for me to make it over the final pitch which gave way to a friendlier and  flatter mesa.

I made it. Most of the riders were eating, drinking and laughing as the final riders trickled in.  Manny helped me off my bike and told me to eat and rest. I limped to the table where Cliff, Alan, and Agt Al had been resting. After lunch and a restroom break I walked over to Rosalie's friend.  She helped me stretch out my quads and hamstrings. I almost kicked her as I had to straighten my leg fast to prevent a cramp on the back of my leg.

Riders were still slowly grinding their way up as we made our way back. The ride down was fast and fun. Carving around the bends, I felt energized and strong. The descent was exhilarating as the wind rushed over my face. I think I saw 40 on the straightaways . But the cautious side of me told me to slow down and be safe which I did. After about 15 miles of mostly downhill we approached the first climb. It wasn't that steep maybe 4% but all of a sudden BAM!  My quads cramped and my legs locked up. Fortunately I was able to unclip my left foot. I stopped close to the side of the road. But I couldn't move my feet at that point. My cramp was so severe I could not unclip my other foot or even hobble to the side of the road.  So I froze there and waited for help. Once again Manny was there to save the day. How lucky for me that he was there at that moment directing riders at the turn. As the last rider passed Manny drove up to me and helped me off my bike; serendipity in spades.  That was it for me. While Manny secured my bike I climbed in the car and joined Agt Al and Ben from the Adobos. He had I think broken his chain on the way up.  Agt. Al told me he didn't feel well, a little dizzy and nauseaus. After directing the riders at a couple of more corners, Manny headed to the finish.  As usual Francis and crew had foods and drinks to replenish everybody.

I rode the TDF Heartbreak 100 Mt Frazier 2008.  I cramped on mile 20 and mile 80.  Guess who was there to help me? Yup, Manny again; but I finished...tired but without pain. I did TDF Mt. Baldy  and I felt strong and did really well....except for getting lost.  I gave my all at the TDF Castaic 2008.  I retaliated at Francis by eating a lot of his posole so nobody else could have it; but he was ready and he prepared a lot of food.  This time around, Francis succeeded in breaking me. Whether I didn't train enough, the weather got the best of me or whatever excuse I can come up with, I can honestly say that this TDF Palmdale was the hardest ride for me notwithstanding the 2007 Tour De Poway 100 my first ride longer than 5 miles. I have learned just a bit more of myself, my capability and endurance and my threshold for pain.  If anything this is great motivation for me to train more and ride more often just so I don't have to go through this torture one more time. I just want to thank Francis and the Adobos and crew and my fellow MMCC riders for allowing me to partake of the adventure and challenge that is the Tour De Francis.

I'm sure most of you have at some point in your lives begun the day with a "funny feeling" that something not-so-good was going to happen in whatever you had planned.  Before last Sunday's ride I actually had that feeling.  In fact, I seriously considered calling someone in the group to say that something came up and I wouldn't be joining in on the ride.  After a bit of thought, however, I decided that this was silly, and that I wanted to ride!   So I prepared my bike, filled my bottles, and stuffed my jersey pockets with the usual ride necessities.  I left the house just a couple of minutes late and hit the road to Starbucks. 

It's a six-mile ride from my house to our meeting place in Mira Mesa, and as I do every Sunday on that route I looked for fellow members:  Tony, Al, Raffy, Erwin or anyone else who rides from- or through PQ.  This time I encountered no one, so I made my way alone through the usual back streets of Mira Mesa, which at that hour is not very busy with vehicles.  As always I approached every intersection with caution and slowed to a crawl at each stop sign for fear that the local authorities might be looking to fill their monthly ticket-writing quotas.

Nearing one particular intersection I noticed an older vehicle pass me with what looked to be a more elderly man at the wheel.   He reached the stop sign ahead of me and I noticed his turn signal indicating he was preparing to turn right, just as I was planning to do.  I noticed, however, that his stop seemed unusually long unlike the "California roll" that most drivers seem to practice.  At first I had assumed he had paused to perform some other task inside of his vehicle before initiating his turn.  In preparation for my turn I stretched out my arm indicating my intention to turn right, then slowed as I pulled along side the vehicle.  I did not come to a complete stop, and without losing all forward momentum I proceeded to turn and accelerate in my new direction.  Moments later I was greeted with the blaring of the elderly man's horn!  I suspect he woke up several nearby residents in order to get my attention.  Upon hearing this I heard the roar of his engine as he raced to catch up to me.  Then, through the open passenger-side window came a thundering voice of a man obviously furious with what he had just witnessed!  "I stopped and waited for you!" he yelled.  "You need to come to a stop too, okay?!!"  He was wagging his finger at me as he shouted as if I had committed a major felony and was deserving of prison time.

As I continued on my path looking at the elderly man in disbelief, I was utterly speechless.  I searched my brain for something to say in response, but I could think of nothing!  How do I respond to this maniac?  I was confused, and I was completely surprised that someone this early on a Sunday morning could be so easily enraged by a lone cyclist minding his own business.  I could have easily engaged him in a "pissing contest", but I chose not to, realizing that nothing I could possibly say would appease him.  After chastising me and realizing he was getting no reply from me, he sped off to his destination.  It was then I began questioning whether I actually did something wrong.  Okay, I thought, I didn't come to a complete stop and unclip at the intersection, but I in no way interfered with this driver.  Perhaps he thought that my intent was to continue across the intersection rather than make the right turn, and that maybe that confusion was inconvenient enough for him to justify his little tirade.  No matter what, it bothered me!  It bothered me because I know I did not deserve such an act of aggression.  I spent the last half-mile trying to convince myself that this was just an "angry old fart" who probably has nothing better to do than to bitch at anyone who doesn't play by his rules.  The reality is that he probably feels that all cyclists disregard the rules of the road and are a bunch of "sissies in Spandex" who are just an inconvenience to those on four wheels.  The more I thought about it, the more I concluded that this was simply an angry human being who probably lives a pretty miserable life.

I felt I did the right thing by not fueling the fire.  This anonymous old man has no meaning in my life and I will likely never cross paths with him again, so as is often the case, defending myself with such a personality would have been fruitless and simply a waste of time and energy.  I've learned over the course of 44 years to pick my battles, and as much as I'd like to fight every one of them, I realize that not all of the battles are worth fighting.

Despite this incident and the ensuing flats, detours, etc., that plagued last Sunday's ride, I still came home with a big smile on my face knowing that I had a fun, safe ride with the best group of cyclists and friends a guy could ever have! 

While you were all recently suffering in the hills of Ramona, I had the opportunity to ride my bike in different parts of the Bay Area - something that I have never done before and hope to do again soon!  I managed to squeeze in three very different rides - one in the South San Francisco area, one in Orinda (a small town just east of Berkeley), and another in the Danville / Livermore area south-east of Orinda.  I had the good fortune of meeting two very nice riders from a couple of these areas who also share our passion for cycling.  One took me on a very scenic 30-mile ride through tree-covered paths, past large reservoirs, and along some really nice rollers that tested our legs!  It was a route that I don't think would ever bore me!  Unfortunately, writing cannot do justice to the beautiful scenery I enjoyed, so I wish that I had stopped to take photos of the route.  If you ever plan to be in the South San Francisco area with your bike, be sure to let me know and I'll map the route for you.  I guarantee you will love it!  Maybe I can hook you up with my cycling host, Jim, who was terrific company on the ride. 

My family ventured up to Northern California for my daughter's lacrosse tournament in Danville, the town recently made famous by its hometown hero, Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger, the pilot who successfully landed his crippled passenger jet in the Hudson River.  It was in Danville that I met up with the head of our MMCC - North division, your old friend and mine, Patrick, or "P2" as we fondly know him!  The change of scenery was nice, and Patrick mapped a great route.  It was like old times, and we managed to do a lot of catching up over our 42-mile trek through some back-country roads similar to Highland Valley, as well as some hair-raising city roads like we the ones we risk our butts on here in San Diego.  The weather could not have been more perfect!  On the route we encountered the usual variety of road kill - rabbits, squirrels, and a skunk.  However, the dead deer sort of took us by surprise.  We also passed a variety of live farm animals and animals of the human variety, also on two wheels.  Occasionally a vehicle would pass us by, but for the first several miles we enjoyed open road as we wound our way past open fields and small farms.  Eventually we would pass through Livermore, a city much like ours complete with business parks, a Costco, a municipal airport, etc.  However, we also rode past a very picturesque winery that Patrick said that he had once visited for a wedding.  As in many places we have ridden, we passed million-dollar mansions and middle-class neighborhoods, but as scenic as it was, it was just plain fun to ride with Patrick again!  After navigating some sketchy, narrow roads, we arrived back at our starting point - the venue where my daughter's lacrosse tournament was held.  It was there that we chatted with one of the local riders, whose daughter was also participating in the tournament.  He talked about the route that Patrick and I thought about doing, but decided would be too much suffering for the short period of time we had!  Patrick referred to it as the Alpe d'Huez of the East Bay.  We decided to save that one for another day - perhaps when more fellow MMCC riders can join in the suffer-fest. 

My last ride was in Orinda, the area where we were staying with some good friends.  They live in a very affluent area similar to Old Del Mar or La Jolla.  The streets are narrow and lined with trees, and the houses sit on large parcels of land.  Some are mansions, and some are smaller ranch houses, while others are more on the modern side.  However, the most distinguishing feature of the area is the hills.  Orinda is ALL HILLS!!!  For the most part you are either going uphill, or you are going downhill.  This is why cyclists ride here.  My friend mapped out a route for me that offered no opportunity for warm-up.  His driveway is steep and his street is steep, so after the fast descent down these two, I had to prepare myself for the first major cross street, a 4% - 5% grade that led me to the only flat stretch of road in that area - maybe 100 yards long.  Then the serious climbing began - first 8% - 9%, then 10% - 12% as it wound uphill for about a half-mile!  I was ready to call it a day, but the winding descent ahead of me was calling.  It was a very technical descent that had me riding the brakes all the way to the bottom.  I did, however, stop to snap a photo.  Then I encountered another short segment of flat road, after which the big climbs and big down hills began.  The road skirted a large reservoir, which distracted me from the pain and suffering I was experiencing.  Unfortunately I made the mistake of not eating anything prior to rolling out.  However, as always, what goes up must come down, and the big descent was fabulous and well worth the effort!  A detour forced me to compete with the local motorists through the narrow, winding roads back to my friends' house, and at one point I unclipped and moved over to the edge of the road for fear that the driver would miss my bright orange MMCC kit and turn me into a fancy speed bump.  After navigating through the maze of streets, my legs screaming for oxygen, I had to climb back up to the house where I started my ride.  I had serious thoughts of calling my wife to come and pick me up, but I figure I had made it that far, and besides, I have never quit a ride!  So after a few more minutes of agony, I crawled back up the driveway (I will now call "Mini Alpe") and breathed a sigh of relief.  I had just finished about 12 of the most demanding miles I have ever ridden!  It's a good thing my GPS had run out of battery power because I would likely have thrown it into the reservoir halfway through the ride! 

Some day I'll be back to conquer more of Orinda and the rest of the East Bay, but for now I'll just enjoy suffering with you guys in our own backyard!