Century-A-Month: 2020

January 2020

February 2020

March 2020

April 2020

2020 2021 2022 2023

There is a lot to see -- and a lot to go wrong -- on a hundred mile bicycle ride. Sometimes it can be nice to reflect on these rides, and even more so to revisit them after some time has passed. This journal is a recollection of those rides, both good and bad, and everything in between. Journaling also holds me accountable to my goal: riding at least one "Imperial Century" every single month of the year.

Please forgive any grammar or spelling errors... most of these words came about after a long a day in the saddle.

January 2020

It's hard to guarantee that I will finish a century a month, but I certainly intend to. This thread should provide good motivation to follow through.

One-Hundred Miles of Central Texas

By 0600, the coffee was all gone. By 0630, I had made and devoured a short stack of pancakes. By 0730, the touring bike was rolling out of the driveway. It was already nearly 70°F with a thick humidity that would last all day; luckily a heavy overcast would hang around too, making for a near consistent temperature all day long. The goal, of course, was one hundred miles.

In my part of central Texas, I'm lucky to straddle the Balcones Escarpment, which provides two distinctive topographies. To the west, the infamous Texas Hill Country provides a web of roads easily exceeding an elevation gain of 75 feet per mile. To the east, the Blackland Prairies provide some relief, but a typical selection of back roads will still average 40 feet per mile. I started out west, hill-bound.

Fulton Ranch Road rolled through small hill country drainages, but the overall trend was mostly up; it's a local favorite for hill practice. At around 11 miles is a ranked Category 4 climb, but today, I would be descending. At the bottom of the hill is a wide valley nestling the Blanco River. Across the river, the road winds into Wimberly. A few miles into town, I stopped for a second breakfast. The Sugar Shack regularly has day-old baked goods for half price; I grabbed my usual, an over-sized cinnamon roll with heavy frosting. After breakfast, I savored the few remaining miles of mostly flat, scenic riding along the river.

The river road didn't last long and soon the road tilted up, obscuring any longer view of the horizon. I was glad just to be holding a 10 miles per hour average, even though I was struggling. I remind myself it should be fine to stop for pictures, though really, I just needed an excuse to rest my legs. After Fischer, the road got worse still. Suffering through my lowest gears, I carefully scrutinized my Garmin for the current grades: 10% or more on nearly every hill. After a few miles of what felt like torture, though, I was rewarded with a long horizon and a smooth rollout.

The back road ended, and I turned onto a state highway (FM 306) where the grades were much more manageable. The state highway eventually takes me past Canyon Lake, below an Army Corp dam, and left me aside the Guadalupe River. Along the way I got to cross the Canyon Lake Gorge, a local geomorphological icon leftover from when the dam was over-topped in 2015.

Not much further and I linked up with yet another River Road. Set in the Guadalupe River valley and flanked by steep hillsides, the road is always popular with cyclists, motorcyclists, and vacationers. The road is also renowned for its four river crossings, none of which are fenced or guarded in any way. A good picture of the crossings has always been elusive.

Following the Guadalupe leads to the center of New Braunfels and precariously close to Texas' oldest bakery. At Naeglin's, I can't help but try a bratwurst kolache and a custard-filled donut too. I take an extra minute to relax; I have nearly 100km behind me and only the eastern prairies ahead.

Feeling fresh from the pastries, the next 15 miles went by quickly. I ventured down an abandoned backroad, with the pavement broken and pocked from neglect. It was even signed "No Outlet", but I knew better -- the route passed under the aerial traffic pattern of the New Braunfels Airport. There are about three planes in the pattern, providing a rare opportunity to try a fun composition.

By now, I'm back in more familiar territory, on roads that the local cycling group favors week in and week out. I think to capture one more picture from the crest of a hill, a sweeping overview of the prairies. Then I put the camera away, put my head down and push forth. Despite the growing discomfort of the saddle, and the fatigue in my legs, home is getting close, and with it, the end of the day's ride. Maybe next time, I'll pack a sleeping bag...

February 2020

It was 45°F at 8:00 am in central Texas, but it was forecast to break 70 by noon. The plan was for a long group ride, around 75 miles -- an excellent opportunity to push for a century. I started with arm warmers, ear warmers, and windbreaker, which was comfortable for getting to the coffee shop meetup. We were supposed to leave at 8:30, but casual conversation delayed us a bit. By the time we ventured out, around 8:45, the sun was already beating down -- I shed the windbreaker.

We followed a regular route out of town, getting east of Interstate 35 as quick as possible. The gentle winds and quiet roads in the Blackland Prairie made for a peaceful morning spin; the casual pace permitted some more spirited banter between riders. 20 miles into the ride and we arrived at Gruene, a noteworthy tourist destination that marked our turn towards River Road. The group’s legs were still too restless for pictures.

Following the river brought us to the Canyon Lake Dam. Having been previously under construction, it was refreshing to see the top of the dam was accessible once again (which also provided an alternative connection to Canyon City). It was around mile 40, and the group was finally ready for some photos -- pictures of the lake, the scenery, the group, and of course, some selfies too.

The next major stop was only another 10 miles further -- a hilly 10 miles, but it passed quickly with company. At around mile 50, we encountered a treacherous obstacle: the “slime” bridge at John Knox Ranch. The thin sheen of algae on the surface of the bridge made it too slick to ride across; instead, we removed socks and shoes and walked softly across. Luckily the sun was feeling warm, because the water was still mighty cold.

We made another stop in Wimberley at around mile 57 for water and snacks, and a bit of rest. It wasn’t necessarily rest from the miles previous, but for the miles ahead. At mile 62, it was time to face the “Manmaker”, nearly 200 feet of climbing with an average grade over 10% and max grades estimated at 17%. After the climb (and the inevitable moments of regrouping), the roll back to San Marcos seemed easy. At around 75 miles, the group headed off for post-ride festivities.

I kept on, determined to hit my goal. I headed out for the typical weeknight training lap, right around 25 miles; the route began back into the wind, which promised an easy return ride, and easy finish to the century. I didn’t make it far before I was blocked by a train but at least I was early enough to catch a decent picture to prove it.

The end of the ride was underwhelming, but went smoothly. I reached the turn around point at York Creek, pushed on and sailed back home with time enough still for some hearty home cooking.

March 2020

March nearly slipped by, what with spring break, and an ever-growing concern for the global pandemic. As more and more institutions shuttered, my rides kept getting shorter, but now that the quarantine has become a bit more routine, a day out on the bike seemed more and more to be the respite I needed. So, even with a late 10 am start, I headed out the gravel roads northeast into the headwinds trying to maintain a proper audax pace.

The conditions were still isolating (the hardest part was trying to go easy on my fixed water supply), but finding little to stop for, I found myself checking off 100 km in under 4 hours. I did stop when I got around to crossing the local river, however -- I thought the picture would make an excellent candidate for the "Landscape Challenge" going around social media.

The full loop was just shy of a century at about 95 miles; on the edge of town sits a small residential loop of about 4 miles that provides a nice and secure way to round up a few miles, with the confidence that home (and fresh water) would be waiting just around the corner.

March century completed by an inch, but feeling much better about the opportunities in April.

April 2020

After procrastinating throughout March, I decided to go after the century early in April. The weather was to be a balmy 70° with a soft overcast. I packed a picnic of pastries alongside a comfortable supply of water in the trunk, and set out for what would be a brief picnic to divide the estimated 7 hours of saddle time. My goal was to finish without stopping at any stores -- circumstances of social distancing at least provide a unique opportunity to practice for longer solo touring promised in a more stable future.

Lockhart State Park appeared busier than usual, but not so much as to prevent distancing; still, after a quick bite, I was glad to leave the social pressures behind and returned to the safety of the lonely road.

May 2020

The forecast has been showing chances of rain every day until June -- not that I mind a little rain, but it can still be off putting.

Woke up this morning, no clouds in the early dawn light. Checked the hourly forecast, saw the rain was holding off 8-9 hours until the afternoon. Today was the day. I didn't leave with a real plan, just the goal of getting in the big Imperial Century.

I rode straight-away to the curvy and scenic River Road (a favorite of mine, it seems). Rode that out and back. Following the river downstream and out of the hills made it hard to turn back towards any 'real' elevation, so I pushed east into the prairies to rack up some flat (but windy) miles. I was close to home around 95 miles, so did a small popular circuit in town to finish the ride (the circuit is anything but a chore -- it features some amazing shade all around, and many of the estates have farm-animals that suspiciously eye the passing cyclists).

I'm doing really bad at taking pictures -- so here's a screenshot instead (wish I could figure out how to resize images -- either on BikeForums, or before I upload... oh well, maybe after dinner).

June 2020

June is an opportunity to escape Texas, and head back home to visit with family. The drive felt longer than usual -- with most places still closed (and avoiding those that were open and busy), 'rest stops' amounted to take-out meals in the driver seat. Once back home though, the cooler weather and warm welcomes eased any lingering stiffness from the drive.

After a few days helping around the house, I finally had some open time to get out on the bike. I left promptly by 8 ... the temperatures were brisk for this now-acclimated Texas resident. The brisk chill was mildly uncomfortable, but no worse, and I was confident the day would only warm up. The ride took me around some of the "hills" that Iowa has to offer; although they aren't steep at all, the elevation did slowly add up at first. By the halfway point though, I wanted to explore some new developments (new rail trails) that had appeared while I was gone. I followed the trails up and through the cities, until I broke through the other side. Before long, the city's paving efforts gave over to county-maintained crushed gravel (which still offered a nice ride for the 35c tires on my 'road' bike).

I was so excited to keep moving, reliving old roads and finding new ones, that I could hardly find the patience to wield the camera (I was too focused on the maps and memorizing new turns). I pinky-promise to get a few good views to share for July. Photos or not -- checking in here has still been excellent motivation to keep going (especially with the current lack of organized events to help stick to a training plan).

July 2020

It's good to be up north in July: while home in Texas is seeing temperatures over 100, while staying with family in Iowa, the forecast was a comfortable high of just 83, with a cool wind from the north. It was an easy choice to head out for the century of the month. With my close family's homes being about 60 miles apart, I saw an opportunity to try a point-to-point route, with a bit of exploring along the way.

The goal was southeast, nearly to the Mississippi River; I started the morning heading east. The roads were quiet enough that I stayed mostly on paved county routes. (Gravel roads in Iowa make a nice escape from traffic, when necessary.) The weather was cool enough that my 50 ounces of water was easy enough to conserve, even with some of Iowa's steeper hills. The view from the top was breathtaking, for a prairie -- the road twisted lazily away into the horizon, a perfect candidate for an "Empty Road Ahead" photo.

After taking some new-to-me turns (of which I could only recall thanks to my GPS), I accidentally ended up adjacent to US Highway 30. Luckily, an alternative was readily available -- a minimum maintenance "B" road, but thankfully in reasonably good shape. The detour was welcomed, as I still needed to round up a few extra miles to make a full century.

Less than 10 miles of gravel and I was somewhat glad to be back on the pavement. I was getting closer to home, and the options for the rest of the route were becoming more familiar. A few turns -- north into the wind for a bit -- provided a chance to chase down some Personal Records from previous years. Surprised, I actually broke a few of those records too (at about mile 90, no less). I rolled home about 3:00 -- nearly a 7-hour day; fast, but probably thanks, in part, to having a general tailwind for the day. Overall, aside from a hefty dose of ultraviolet, it was an excellent day, especially considering August's century will likely have to be under the Texas sun.

August 2020

Home again in Texas, where the daytime temperatures are predictably breaking 100F, and where Covid-19 is just as 'hot'. Wanting to be as safe as possible, I planned to complete August's century in two loops from home.

The first part of the ride started at 6 a.m., an hour before sunrise; it was still in the upper 70's Fahrenheit and humid to match. Even after sunrise, lazy, low, and lingering clouds kept the heat at bay until well after 8 in the morning: 50 km done. I stayed true to the plan, avoiding any stops along the way and rationing my water getting to 100 km. I returned home around 10am, just as the day was getting unbearably hot.

I spent the late morning and early afternoon tidying up some computer work, and started an early dinner around 5pm. After that, I was back out the door and on to the bike. The sun still lingered high, but the shadows were growing longer. A few of the local hill repeats were almost entirely shaded by the time I started. The goal was to rack up about 3,000 feet of climbing in about 30 miles (preparing, hopefully, for something like Austin's Das Hugel ride). I managed to meet my goals, and finished the 100-mile day just before sunset.

September will likely follow a similar plan of breaking up the ride and avoiding the heat. Looking forward, I hope that by October, I will be able to slow down a bit, hit a few more desirable routes, and take a few more pictures.

September 2020

September has brought some cool weather to central Texas -- morning lows in the '70's with highs hovering around 85F this week. I left comfortably after sunrise, around 8:00 am, destined for the best of the Hill Country.

I rode steady through the morning, out past Wimberley where the hilliest back country roads lay. There, I hopped onto Mount Sharp Road, a popular segment for Austin-area cyclists -- for a few moments, I wasn't alone, and distanced waves offered a refreshing bit of sociability in these isolating times. As the road reached its peak, I turned west. Three strong riders soon passed me, then vanished over the next hilltop; I stuck to my much slower, but steady pace.

Out of the "mountains" of the hill country, I reconnected with more familiar routes, including the highway between Canyon City and Sattler, and the New Braunfels favorite: River Road along the Guadalupe River. The same river road seems to be a common feature of my centuries this year -- at noon time, the well-rooted trees offer nearly full shade along a ten-mile stretch, and the road's traffic is usually restrained to just about 20mph. I didn't see many cyclists though; most had probably already finished their rides in the morning hours.

I stopped at the convenience store just outside of Gruene; the salt accumulating on my kit suggested some type of Gatorade to accompany a fresh water fill. The rest of the way home would be flat and relatively easy compared to the morning's hills.

October 2020

I've been feeling better on the bike lately (maybe because the temps are finally under 90) -- in late September, I organized a 200k that took a small group of us on some familiar loops. A flat route (25 feet/mile) and sharing the pulls led to a pretty quick ride.

This week, I was starting to feel a bit over-exerted, so I spent a few days deliberately soft pedaling. I set out Friday morning at 8:30am, with the interesting caveat of a teleconference scheduled at 2 pm. Initially, my goal was simply to knock out 100 kilometers before phoning in; I settled on the common trip out towards Wimberley. The routes are a bit hilly, but riding along the water's edge is unbeatable. The river loop is a near-perfect 5 miles; I went ahead and circled it 4 times.

I started the 15 or so miles back towards San Marcos around 11:30, giving myself plenty of time to find a nice stop for lunch. Back in town and with over an hour to spare, I added another 15 or so miles circling around parts of the local club route. By mile 65, lunch became second to better hydration. I stopped at a convenience store for a Gatorade, where I also ended up with gummy "dinosaurs" and a Pop-Tart -- I always say I'll find something better for lunch, but the simple stuff always seems more appealing to me.

After 'lunch', I pedaled lazily around town, up and in to the local park. I took my office call in the shade of the trees, snacking on gummies and sipping Gatorade; a few deer crept through the trees, occasionally casting their gaze in my direction. Wrapping up, I checked the cyclometer -- 75 miles, and I was set to ride 25 more.

I was near enough to a few local hill climbs that I had often skipped; the climbs follow limited out and back routes, and I much prefer loops. On the positive side, roads to nowhere have very little traffic. The out and back climb added a nice bit of elevation to the day, but didn't quite make 100 miles for the day. Not trying to be too easy on myself, I rounded out the miles on some of the locals' favorite hill climbs, mostly over 100 feet/mile. In the end, I was glad to clock somewhere around 6,000 feet for the 100 mile day -- good preparation for November's Das Hugel ride.

November 2020

November's century has been in the works for awhile. Das Hugel is a ~110 mile tour of west Austin "Hill Country"; the route emphasizes the steepest hills in the area, with typical gradients between 10 and 20%. The overall elevation gain is around 11,000 feet. Having finished the ride last year, I hoped I could best my time by a bit.

Covid 19 changed the mood of the ride significantly; the event has always been 'underground', but now it was 'asynchronous' too. It was lonely, but I appreciated it after all; I focused on my pace and keeping my cadence high, and seeing through with my goal.

The Courtyard climb includes three challenging ramps -- even 4-6% grades are a relief. I stopped frequently to check the map and rearrange my cue sheet (taped gently to the top tube, and tucked tightly under the top-tube cables); paper has served me well for the number of turns the route takes. The finish was uneventful: waiting in Zilker Park, under the Mopac expressway, waiting for my ride home. Glad I followed through with it -- for the century-a-month, and for the Hugel -- hopefully the event recovers its following in a year or two.

I finished about a half an hour sooner than last year, but only with a 0.2mph faster moving average. Still, a personal victory.

December 2020

It's hard to complain about December in Texas -- average temperatures usually settle between 50°F and 70°F; nonetheless, once you get used to the 90 degree days, 50 is downright chilly. Add in some heavy overcast and a light drizzle, and it's officially cold! Of course, the forecast was supposed to be dry...

If the weather wasn't enough, I deliberately chose to take the Salsa Vaya touring bike -- it is the most comfortable, but also the heaviest of my options. I never regret taking the Vaya (after the fact), but I always lament cranking up hills with a 22-tooth chainring (comfortable, and slow).

Starting out at 9am, it took until about 5pm. I would have taken longer too -- a longer lunch or a few extra stops -- but I wanted to be home before dark (and I succeeded).

With the cold and the drizzle and not stopping long for breaks, I managed one hundred miles without any new pictures. Nonetheless, it still means I finished at least one century each month for the last 12 months. We'll see if it happens again next year...

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