Spring Break Training Camp

I went for a swim in an Albuquerque pool today and it was nothing like swimming in Arizona.

For one, the pool was a lot cooler, and it took me several laps to feel OK about the temperature of the water, instead of just plain feeling cold. The water felt "thinner" and I couldn't feel the catch and pull of the water as well--making for what seemed like a whole lot more effort for less result. I was also swimming indoors, at night, after a 10 hour work day, in a large, windowless enclosure, under bright, artificial lights.

In Arizona, we swam outdoors, during the day, in sun-warmed water. We were in a pool, with cement decks and a fence around us, but the sky was a brilliant blue above, the water sparkled, and there were palm trees and green grass nearby. During the week, we swam two to a lane, but on weekends, the pool was exceptionally crowded and there was movement, splashing, and color across the board.

What a difference.

Spring Break.

A pre-scheduled week off that T and I try to take advantage of, not nearly as often as we'd like, and in the past few years, somewhat hit and miss:

2001 I start new job. No vacation.

2002 We spend a week in Joshua Tree for warmer weather rock climbing, desert camping, running, and a brief foray into mountain biking.

2003 T is overseas

2004 We spend a week in Arizona for warm weather rock climbing at Cochise, Mt. Lemmon, and Queen's Creek. We did a little running and found an outdoor pool for lap swimming. Almost no tri-training to speak of, but lots of rest. Upon our return we participate in the Defined Fitness Duathlon, and put in a decent showing, despite the week off.

2005 T in the Czech Republic to visit family.

2006 T spends the week with his Dad who is ill.

2007 Vacation plans scuttled by my illness. T visits family instead.

2008 This year, we anticipate having a week off again. We toss around ideas for a while, knowing that we both want warmer weather.

Hmmm......

Mt. Lemmon.... outdoor lap pool.... camping in the desert....

I think what cinched it for us was an article noting that all new developments in Tucson were mandated to include bicycle lanes. We decided that spring break this year would include our home away from home (on the back of the truck) and a new large tent for camping, which would allow us to bring our bicycles, as well as running gear, swimsuits, goggles, and of course, loungy chairs, good books, and a DVD player.

Instead of the usual week, we shortened our vacation to 5 days (to allow us to do useful things with the remaining days--like homework, and me not using all of my vacation days near the start of the year).

On Wednesday morning, March 19th, we went out for a morning bike ride in Albuquerque, then packed up the truck and drove I-25 to I-10 to Tucson. T drove while I provided read aloud entertainment from "C.C.Pyle's Amazing Foot Race: The True Story of the 1928 Coast-to-Coast Run Across America," an event spawned during the era of endurance dance marathons and flagpole sitting, and which involved running average daily distances of about 40 miles (give or take 20), to cross the country in 84 days. This was before there were specific running shoes, and people would run all day without drinking water.

In Arizona, camping was first come, first serve, and it turned out that the camping area we had hoped for was booked solid--and had been for the previous six weeks. This turned out to be fortunate because we found that the campsite was at a lower elevation and consisted of flat grassland with naked, burnt-looking mesquite trees, little privacy and no imagination.

Instead we found another area located at about 3000' elevation in the middle of the Saguaro National Monument--a heterogeneous landscape of cacti (saguaro, ocotillo, prickly pear, barrel, cholla), desert flowers in all colors (poppies, lupine, daisies, penstemon, globemallow, primrose, heliotrope), bushes (mostly larrea tridentata), and stumpy trees (palo verde).

It was a full moon vacation.

Coyotes yipped every night.

We worried about snakes and small rodents, but didn't see either.

The bird calls were piercing and unique.

No insects to speak of.

We saw bicycles everywhere.

A large number of entrance/exits to the I-10 highway were closed due to a highway widening project, so we made our way using back roads, and discovered Gates Hill road, which is a beautiful, steep, curvy road through a pass between the Saguaros and old Tucson. We were concerned at the narrowness of the road with no shoulder, steep drops, and lots of cars due to the detour, but saw plenty of cyclists. Later, we found out that this is a favorite bike ride.

We saw numerous "Share the road with bicycles" signs, and "Tucson is a bicycle friendly city," and realized that the cars expected to see bikes on the road.


We loved our new campsite, surrounded by bushes, trees, and desert flowers.


On Thursday, March 20th, we decided to ride Oracle road for a 30 mile round trip of gentle uphill outbound with a tailwind, followed by a gentle downhill return into a headwind. We made the day into a brick by doing a short, hilly four mile trail run on Romero Springs trail in Catalina State Park. After lunch and a rest, we found the outdoor pool from our previous visit, and did 1500 yards in sun warmed water under a blue sky. We returned home to our campsite, happily sated, and tired.

Friday, we creaked out of bed, and stayed close to home to ride a loop road, with no traffic, smooth pavement, and fun, rolling hills. The landscape was green, with lots of new desert growth and flowers. The weather was warm. The sky a piercing blue. T raced and dropped a tri-guy, but was in turn dropped by a roadie. It was nice to see all the cyclists on the road, and nice to know that the cars were expecting cyclists. After lunch, T did homework, I siesta'd in the shade of the truck, then we returned to the pool for more outdoor laps.

Saturday, tired from our previous 3 days of riding, and not accustomed to hills, we woke up with sore legs, but opted to stick with our plan to ride up Mt. Lemmon. After several days of vacationing without a clock, and letting the days follow their own rhythm, we were pretty relaxed--to the point that we didn't plan well for the climb, but just (lackadaisically) grabbed a few gels and took off. We underestimated our fatigue as well as underestimated the sustained, unprotected climb. We started at the Safeway on Tanque Verde Rd, and headed out on a wide road with smooth pavement and a good bike shoulder. The road narrowed a bit, but there was always a nice shoulder, good pavement, stellar views, and plenty of cyclists--kitted and fast -looking. All the way up, we could see a black line of tar paralleling the painted lane line. Finally, we realized that the previous painted line denoting the edge of the original wider lane had been tarred over and re-painted as a narrower lane--in order to create a wider shoulder for cyclists.

18 miles into the ride (for me), I was bonkish, cooked by the sun, and my fear of heights was starting to kick in. The descent did not include a bicycle lane--probably because it wasn't necessary. All the way down, there were plenty of pull outs, signed well ahead of time, for a downhill wuss like me to pull over, pause and collect myself. The downhill wasn't nearly as bad as anticipated and I was actually able to let go of the brakes and enjoy myself (unlike during the Iron Horse Bicycle Classic in Colorado, where the un-guardrailed outside corners made me feel that I just might sail out into space). It was nice to recognize and pass by the climbing areas we had gone to in 2004 and see the road from a different perspective. T went further, but also turned around early, feeling bonkish. We didn't make it to the top this time, but we'd already been there. In 2004, we had driven up to the top on the paved road, "snuck" past the fire station (they didn't care), then descended the back side on an empty dirt road through broad, nearly uninhabited countryside.

Once again, after our descent, we opted for more outdoor laps in the pool. On this Saturday, the pool was filled to capacity, "there's a lot of triathletes here," was what they told us, but we managed to squeak in and circle swim--T in a lane with four remarkably large men, I with some fast tri-women. Back at home, we had dinner under the stars, then the full moon rose, and we retired to bed in what seemed like almost full daylight. We were tired and happy.


Sunday, we said good bye to our campsite and to Arizona by doing a 10 mile run in the desert, initially following a bushy, green arroyo, then branching off and further afield. As we descended the arroyo, a steadily escalating sound came from behind, momentarily making me wonder if a large wave was catching up with us. Mark had already stopped off the trail and I jumped sideways into some bushes, where we both ended up waving to the passing mountain bikers in partially hidden bush-gnome fashion. It was good for a laugh.

The drive was uneventful and we traveled on $3.05 per gallon gas to arrive in Albuquerque the same night.

We found out, after the trip, that Tucson is a prime winter tri and cycling camp area, and that we had hit a number of the popular bicycle routes. It just seemed like the perfect vacation for us. As with so many of our trips, we'd like to go back. We're hoping we can make Spring Break happen again next year.

P.S. Mark looking like he's having a great time after 5 days in the desert...

Yes, we definitely want to go back.

Baja, Diego, Catalina , 2 viajeros, and a trusty truck

3000 miles of driving

10 nights of camping, 2 hotels, 4 restaurant meals, one ferry express ride, and a midnight hike

5 whales + a calf, 2 dolphin schools, 7 clams, a few sting rays and legless starfish, uncountable seals sunning and jumping, plovers, sandpipers, herons, pelicans, frigatebirds, cormorants, and ospreys

a blue bay and empty beach

sand and seashells

wind and sun gentle on our skin

the coolness (shocking) and clarity of the water

the sound of the incoming tide lapping at the sand

a million, billion stars.

2 weeks of...
bottled water, watchless days, velvet nights, clothing re-runs,
rural roads, grand vistas, wandering cattle, and cultural eye openers.

Living on the beach and in the best way possible.

Baja California, Santa Catalina Island, and San Diego.

We're home now. Just got in the door after an all day push from California to New Mexico. Our first meal is green chile stew from the Frontier restaurant. Crazy Baja Driver Man has finished wading through his email--140 messages from UNM alone--and has moved on to Cyclocross scores (very important!).

I'm happily organizing entropy--and delighted at the state of our house. Our kitchen jungle plants didn't die, the furnace turned on (after a breathtaking delay), we didn't leave dirty dishes in the sink, nothing moldy is growing in the fridge, and the car started on the first try.

Happy, happy New Year.

Spain in '04

Ran into Lazy and Rick today. Really nice to see some tri team faces I haven't seen in a while.

Might be because I'm feeling better, and getting out of the house more.

Still no stamina, though.

But I'm working on it, and am definitely on the upswing.

In November, 2004, Mr. T and I went to Spain for a rock climbing trip on the southern Costa Blanca coast. We hadn't seen each other in almost a year, so we spent 3 weeks in Europe getting re-acquainted. My sister just happened to have a conference in Madrid and arranged to stay longer to meet us on the coast for a family vacation.

We stayed in the cutest little finca, in an agricultural valley lined with groves of orange trees, little towns, and meandering water ways. The driveway up to this place was flanked by large stone lions and had a huge gate. We had a private tennis court. T was enthralled by the olive trees and tried to eat an olive fresh from the branch. Something he won't repeat again.

Our first night we went to get something to eat. We walked into an entirely deserted restaurant, resplendent in white linen and crystal wine goblets. At 6:00 pm we were terribly gauche, but didn't know it. As T puts it, we must have been having an early evening snack--Spain custom doesn't even consider dining before 9:00 pm

We had home made antipasto plates everyday--olives, cheeses, good crusty bread, narrow, hard salami's, ai'oli, and red wine. We bought the wine at a mercado called "Mas-y-Mas,"--after becoming unintentionally tipsy in their wine tasting room. Mas-y-Mas is really just your typical supermarket, but with a better meat/seafood counter--and a wine tasting room, unattended, lined floor to ceiling with wooden casks, spigots, and little plastic cups.

We were so enamored of the olives, that we bought 2 pounds of assorted types from a street market vendor--only to find that they were marinated in a biting, astringent vinegar. We still ate them, but in small doses.

One evening we stopped in for tapas in a large bar, hidden behind thick stone walls and large, solid wooden doors. Older, grizzled men sat around wooden tables playing cards. The air was thick with smoke. We found kidneys, curdled blood, and very large, intact sardines. I don't recall eating anything--and think stateside tapas may be more appealing to me than the traditional fare.

We celebrated Thanksgiving, thankfully with my sister, in the small moorish village of Parcent, built on a hill. We toured on foot, walking small, narrow, crooked cobbled streets up to the top of the hill, then down the other side, and back again. Dinner was a large platter of seafood paella, bread, more red wine, and fruit.

One day, we climbed up the Penon de Ifach in the town of Calpe near Alicante. November is the off season, so the beach was entirely deserted and the water was COLD. Mr T dove in, and then just as quickly ran out. In the summer it's quite the beach resort and is elbow-to-elbow people--which accounts for the high rise condos lining the beach.

This photo is a shot my sister took on the climb up. She just found and sent it to me, which brought back memories, so I thought I'd share.