Yesterday the Geezers made their annual run to the Morning Star Grocery, a 42-mile round trip from El Rancho Pendejo that chalks up about 2,400 feet of vertical gain.
Medals and promotions all around!
Ordinarily we do this ride in the fall, when Tonatiuh steps away from the stove to burn one, to wit, something other than us.
Not so this year. Someone (not Your Humble Narrator) thought it would be a swell idea to make the trip when the forecast was basically “hotter than the hubs of Hell.”
Nevertheless, we persisted. And one of us more than the others.
Our peloton included three octogenarians and a couple gents sporting aftermarket parts installed after unscheduled getoffs. One of the 80-somethings may have been jealous of the cyborgs and hunting a retrofit of his own, because he crashed coming into Tijeras; alas, not hard enough to require the full Steve Austin makeover.
Bloodied but unbowed, our man soldiered on and made it to the grocery without further incident, accompanied by our senior officer, an 84-year-old motorhead who immediately began grilling a stranger about the technical specs of his BMW motorcycle.
I made it into the lead group, but was not first to the grocery. We were a trio, ticking along nicely at 155 beats per minute, and I knew that I’d have to find another 10 bpm somewhere starting about six miles out to win the roses. This I felt was a dog that would not hunt.
When the terrain shifted from straight climb to rollers one of the cyborgs got the jump on me and that was that. I found another 14 bpm, briefly, but not in time to close the gap. No bouquet, no podium girl, no anthem.
Well, it wasn’t my first rodeo. Sometimes you’re the cowboy, other times you’re the clown. Good times either way.
Like Bilbo Baggins I made it there and back again. Also like Bilbo, I ate and drank prodigiously afterward, and treated myself to a short nap. It was my fourth trip to the Morning Star and back, so I suppose you could say I’m making a hobbit of it.
Mad Blog Media 
You can still motor along at 155 bpm? Chapeau, O’G. I hit about 150 and my body tells me that much more than that is not a good idea.
I spent nearly a half hour of yesterday’s ride over 148 bpm, according to my Apple Watch, and maxed out at 169 when I was trying to catch that freight train as it left the station just past Pine Flats.
If you believe the watch — and I’m not sure that I do — I can still get over 180 bpm for short bursts. It feels doubleplusungood, though, and I shut that shit down fast.
I still have an old Polar HRM … I should strap that on one of these days and compare notes between the two before I croak myself trying to recapture my lost youth and vigor.
I still use my old Polar HRM with the chest strap. I had ditched it in a drawer for several years. But after that bout with covid related cardiac irregularity, started using it to make sure I was not dead yet. I can get up to about 155 for short bursts but have not tried pushing beyond that. Maybe just for shits and giggles, I should.
Good gravy. On my measily 18 miler today I only climbed a total of 350 feet and never got past 120 bpm on the (two) hills. I am ashamed and crestfallen although I don’t know the difference between the two. Guys in their 80′? Good lord I have no business messing with anyone west of say, St. Louis. Youse guys are making we Midwesterners look like what we are. Bloated, semi-pale, engine addicted and lazy.
These fellers is some rough ol’ cobs, to be sure. The one who crashed got off his bike at one point and started walking with it and I thought, “OK, here we go, he’s gonna call the dustoff and chopper out of here.” But I guess he was just pissed off because he got back aboard and kept on keeping on.
The 84-year-old is nothing short of miraculous. He’s not insane or anything — if he doesn’t feel up to doing some long climb he’ll take five in the shade and wait for the rest of us to come back down — but yesterday there jes’ warn’t no give-up in the man. And he’s sharp as a damn’ tack, especially about infernal-combiustion vehicles. Give ye chapter and verse on any flivver you e’re heerd tella.
I will not see 155 except in afib. Congrats.
Could be bad eyesight on my part. I don’t take my reading glasses on rides. I could be hitting 80 bpm for all I know. …
We were just there Tuesday. Instead of doing the sensible thing and going back the way we came, someone thought it would be a good idea to see if the side road looped back around to S14. It wasn’t a good idea. While the road does loop around, it’s only through some pretty harsh gravel with some pretty steep pitches both uphill and down. My narrow road tires did not think they were made for this.
Oh, yeah, I know that route. A friend and I did it once in the other direction, looping around off NM-337 at Juan Tomas, taking JT to 217, and then back to 337.
I was on a cyclocross bike with 35mm knobbies and top-mounted auxiliary brake levers so it wasn’t too awful. Pretty, when I dared to take my eyes away from the “road” surface.
I wouldn’t mind making that climb once a month, just for the change of pace. It kinda reminds me of some of the rides we used to do in Colorado — like west out of Manitou Springs, up Highway 24 to Cascade, then Woodland Park. Or the Deckers-Pine Junction climb.
Kind of a long go for a geezer who isn’t training for anything beyond not being dead, though.
That’s been my training plan the last couple years. Just training to not be dead yet.
Too much data for me. I just put my fingers on my wrist and look at my watch, which is on the other wrist. For what it’s worth, it’s a solar powered watch.
I just like being able to glance down at one wrist and scare all the oatmeal out of me.
He shoots. He scores!
No wink from the podium girl, or Cava to spray on the wrinkled peloton, but twinkies all round.
Viva la balade en poule
Speaking of Santa Fe,
https://www.santafenewmexican.com/news/local_news/santa-fe-police-reports-say-pickup-driver-ran-red-light-in-fatal-june-bicycle-crash/article_7a9f9490-bd1f-4d70-a6bd-ec845458ebff.html