Climbing

Our cold/crappy weather Sunday ritual is this: take the kids to the gym around noon when most locals are bringing their kids home for lunch. Chloe and I take 20 minute turns playing "Monster" with the kids and belaying Zoe while the other parent boulders alone. When the kids get worn out, we prop sit them down in front of the iPad and boulder together.

A flower box!

Planfay

Rode up to Planfay. On the descent, I encountered this:



which had apparently fallen onto the road after I passed this particular road cut. Happily, it did not fall on me during my descent!


Shortly afterwards, I was at an intersection waiting for a light (yes, occasionally we cyclists wait for lights!) and my foot got jammed behind my wheel. This is known as wheel overlap, and really sucks. The result was that I fell over, much to the amusement of everyone who was nearby. Of course, after I got up and dusted myself off I saw a friend from work just down the road, who had witnessed the whole embarrassing incident.

Later on, I saw this along the road




Not good. It looked like it had happened a while ago, and crew was there getting ready to pull it out of the ditch.

Placette

After the freezing cold, I could not take another day of not riding, so I went up placette. It was -6 at the top, without the wind, and slush + snow everywhere. Dicey.

commute

Even in the cold (and yes, it was VERY cold), my bike commute is pretty incredible. What a privilege.

Par-tay!

no party is complete with out a Les Alpages Cheese plate (brought by Francois, to Lolo and Vero's shindig)

Surf de rando!

Dusted off the split, found the skins (glue was not great, but good enough), and skinned up a few hundred meters of powder above mont saint martin. For those of you unfamiliar with the sport, you put climbing skins on the underside of your skis/board, which allow you to ascend, then peel them off and ski back down.

Because I would like to avoid dying in an avalanche, I was going up very low angle paths -- 15 % at most, and in the trees. Unfortunately, there wasn't a lot os snow cover, and I ended up hitting limestone rocks the size of basketballs on the way down. Even so, it was lovely being out there in the snow-enhanced silence of the forest.

Crepe day!

Today, Zoe makes crepes at school, so we are supposed to bring an egg. Hopefully it won't explode on the bike ride.

Omigami

At some point in my childhood, Origami (the art of japanese paper folding) became the cool thing to do. We were all suddenly swept up in a wave of brightly colored square paper, cranes, boxes, frogs and even more ambitious objects. Those of us with less innate folding skills fingers were relegated to the production of origami balls and simple birds. Of course, when other people in our classes would come to school with flocks of delicate interlinked cranes, my pals and I knew that it was time to get serious. Getting serious meant buying origami books. Origami books meant that we were introduced to the bewildering world of origami instructions. I am convinced that there is some unspoken rule among Origami instruction authors that the diagrams be as obtuse and frustrating as possible. I suspect that such authors are sadists and psychopaths. Anyway, the instructions always start out with the square of paper that looks comfortingly like the paper that you would have in front of you. Then there would be a series of increasingly complex intermediates, and at some point (usually quite soon), you would realize that your little crumpled ball of paper with the odd pointy crease did not look anything like the instructions. You would dutifully unfold, refold and if you were lucky get one step further. All the while your gaze would be drawn to the final product. Sometimes it was the only image rendered in full color. It would be there taunting you.

Why do I bring this up? Zoe and Alex recently received some beautiful origami paper, and my job is to fold them into "Omigami", as Zoe calls them. As I have become more ambitious in my folds, I have re-experienced the frustration and inadequate finger dexterity of my youth. It's like Proust's madeline, but I'm not eating anything, and with frustration. How can I refuse though, when Alex comes trundling into the room shaking a beautiful gold and red print origami paper at me with expectant eyes, asking for a oiseau.

Zoe: Maaaaamaaaaaaa
Mama: What?
Zoe: I have to go caaaacaaaa!
Mama: Didn't you just go caca? How many cacas do you have?
Zoe Three! I have three more cacas!

Take the most of him with red meat

A ride in Tullins

Another great ride with Hank today in the foothills around Tullins. Today's was a little bit different in that we explored a new (to both of us) road, and ended up on some muddy cobbly dirt roads… on our road bikes, with skinny tires! It was a total blast, and I could see Hank go into mountain bike mode, concentrating on the line and getting the power down. We crossed paths with an offroader and some guy out walking his dog, both of whom looked at us with some bemusement -- custom Ti and full carbon road machines are not typical in the forest. From there it was a cool descent on excellent pavement back to Tullins.

col de Romeyer

I went for a long ride through the Vercors today. I underestimated the amount of climbing it would be so it took a bit longer than planned, but it was pretty spectacular. Things started out well with a tailwind along the bike path to St. Gervais. I hooked up with some members of a local club on the path, which cut down on the boredom of the bike path for a bit. St Gervais was still in the shade when I got there, but that's where the climb starts so there was plenty of opportunity to warm up. It is beautiful scenery almost the entire way up to the col, past waterfalls and huge cliff faces. The last time I had been through here was ten years ago, when Chloe and I first moved to France (and before we moved back to the states) and our friend lolo took us on a drive through the Vercors: Pont-en-Royans, Presles, Romeyer -- I remember being overwhelmed by the beauty of alpine meadows and three hundred and sixty degree limestone faces. It felt pretty much the same to me this time. If you're ever in the Grenoble area, a trip through the gorges is a must. Anyway, everything was great up until the tunnel, which was a bit terrifying: a half km of pure darkness. I have a small headlight on my bike for just these occasions, and it was barely able to cast enough light to see. The tunnel is also extremely narrow, which adds to the fun and spookiness. All I know is that I cranked through that thing as fast as I could. As I finally emerged from the tunnel, a breeze swept by the mouth of the tunnel, carrying flakes of rime fluttering through the air and into an intense beam of sunlight.

After stopping to refill my bottle at the col, it was back through more gorges, Lans-en-vercors, Engins and back into the valley.



90km, 1400 meters of climbing

Mont Saint-Martin death match, part II!

Today, I did the runner vs bike thing up the mont saint martin but with my friend Martin, and this time, NO DAMN handicaps. This was especially true because I know he is a super strong runner. As luck would have it though, he had a hacking cough, so I caught him on the sixth or seventh switchback. Anyway, another beautiful sunny and clear day!

strange things you find on the bike path, part V.

Gentlemen, start your saws and chippers!

Col de Cossey

at lunch. It's not a high or difficult col, but easily doable from work in ~1 hour and is a nice change from the usual Proveysieux loops. Yes, we live in a cycling mecca

If you don't want a four year old and two year old operating your cherry picker

Don't park them on the sidewalk

Montaud

coooold on the way down