lord xyz
Tis her birthday, and I know a lot of members here are eager to wish her a good one.
First you must read this:
Homer Simpson once said
"What's the point of going out, we're just going to end up back here anyway?"
I suppose this could apply to most of the bike rides and races I have done.
So while many of my brothers and sisters were engaged in triathlons, road races,
and whatnot this past weekend, the kinds where you start and end in the same place,
I did the kind of ride where you start in one place and end up in another one
far far away. Then instead of riding back, you get a ride back to where you
started from, in order to render the whole ordeal utterly useless. Kind of
like the Buddhist monks that make the beautiful colored sand designs and then
let the wind blow them away.
Here is some background. My wife's parents live in Clifton Park, just north
of Albany. We drive up to see them about once every two months, so I am pretty
familiar with the towns along the route. Last summer I got a wacky notion in
my head, wondering if I could ride from Ithaca to Albany in one day. I was smart
enough to not try last year, but when Ellen took the girls to see their grandparents
for a few days, I decided that Sunday would be D-Day. (D as in "Do I know what
I am Doing?"
I would ride out and meet the family there, then we would all drive
back together. If I ran into trouble and wanted to bail, they could start
home and pick me up. I settled on using more or less the same route I drive,
except that Route 7 would replace I-88, and I would have to pick my way through
downtown Schenectady instead of taking the usual sections of the Thruway/Northway.
That way if I needed to be picked up there would be no complicated direction-giving
and I would eliminate any anxieties about getting off course, etc.
Plus most of the harder climbing would be done by the time I reached Bainbridge.
Now, dreaming up strange ways to challenge yourself and actually seeing them
through are two entirely different things. For some of my randonneur friends,
maybe this would not be such a big deal. But I am more of a Bilbo Baggins
worry-wart guy, not usually the adventuresome type, so after getting all my
things together (including printing out maps of Schenectady, buying a Camelback,
driving up to my parents' house to borrow their cell phone, and installing my
bike headlamp) it really hit me that I was doing something out of the ordinary
on Saturday night when I set my alarm for 4:30 AM. I was nervous about getting
to Schenectady after dark, so I figured I would start in the dark on roads I
knew (with little or no traffic) to give myself enough of a time cushion.
And Ellen didn't want to get home too late that night. I didn't really care
when I got home, just as long as I got there, but its good to keep the
family happy.
As it turns out, I didn't need to set any alarm. I spent a restless night
listening to some local coyotes making a racket, getting anxious about whether
they would attack a lone cyclist on a dark (and wet) road. That and wondering
when the rain would stop. And if you hit a deer at 5AM on a dark road, with no
one around, does it make a noise? Seems pretty funny now, but it wasn't so
funny then.
Aside from having riding partners, one way to make sure you will see these kinds
of things through is to boast to your male buddies at work of your weekend plans so
that you will be too embarassed to show up on Monday and tell them you didn't
make it out the door. When I got out of bed at 4:30 AM and looked at the wet road,
that thought was the only thing that motivated me to get my stuff on, eat some
cereal, and head out. I checked the radar, and it seemed to indicate that the rain
was over and done. The National Weather Service forecast for Sunday said "partly
sunny, highs in the mid-80s." So, already a bit overloaded with stuff, and seeing
as it was very warm and humid out, I opted to leave the rain jacket at home.
As it turns out, this was a mistake. You'd think since I pay my taxes, I would be
able to get a decent weather forecast but I guess it doesn't work that way.
More on that later.
Wow, a whole page of writing and I'm just getting to the actual riding part.
Good thing no one invites me to give graduation speeches.
So off I go on West Dryden Road torwards Dryden. It is dark at 5:15 AM. The
road is damp but not enough to send any consistent spray up, just a puddle here
and there. The 5-year old battery pack on my headlamp seems to be holding a
charge just fine. No pack of rabid coyotes attacks me. Around Harford, there
is enough light to see clearly, and by the time I get to Marathon, the sun is rising.
I have seen only about two cars this entire time. I top off my water bottles,
snack on some Fritos, and press on to Whitney Point where I stop for a quick
(decaf) coffee. I almost always drink decaf so I can really get a kick when I
need it, and I'll definitely need a kick later.
The way I figured it, the hard part would be from Whitney Point to Cobleskill.
>From Whitney Point to Bainbridge would be about thirty hilly miles, then about
sixty more through Oneonta to Cobleskill; if I can make it to Cobleskill then
I'll see the light at the end of the tunnel. I head out on 206 and start climbing,
trying to keep my HR at a sustainable rate. After the first few hills, around 8:30AM
I stopped in Greene for a break. I called Ellen and told her where I was. I
noticed the front-page headline of the Post-Standard: "Local bicyclist killed by car
in Cicero." Hopefully there will be no such headlines in the Journal tomorrow,
I think. I'm feeling guilty about skipping out of church early the day before,
and wondering what my punishment from God will be.
My next stop is in Coventry. More junk food gets ingested. As I eat my granola bar
I hear a mother in the apartment over the store screaming at her children. It
sounded like her normal mode of communication. Kind of depressing. I vow that if
I make it to Albany and see my girls, I will wait at least 24 hours before I scream
at them for anything. As I'm leaving the clerk tells me it looks like rain.
"Oh no," I say with some authority. "The radar looked clear when I left, and the
forecast said it would clear up and get sunny." What do these store clerks in
little towns know about Intellicast and uswx.com? I'm an amateur weather buff,
after all. Still, the clouds to the north do look a little foreboding, I admit
to myself as I press on to Bainbridge.
I hit Bainbridge at around 9:45 AM. Coasting into town, I see a few of my brother
firefighters lounging around in front of the Bainbridge FD. Instead of stopping
at the local stop-and-rob, perhaps I'll stop and have a chat with them while
I fill my bottles, I think. The cleanliness of their bathroom left something to
be desired, as did their interest in chatting. I think they thought I was some kind
of impostor claiming to be a firefighter. I was, however, able to ascertain
that it was about 27 miles up Route 7 to Oneonta. So off I went. My plan was to
make a longer stop in Oneonta and maybe sit down somewhere for a nice greasy lunch.
I amuse myself as I ride by wondering what kinds of chemical and biological residue
from the Bainbridge firefighters I now have in my water bottle. I decide maybe
I will stick to bottled water from here on.
Up until now, things have gone more or less according to plan and I am ahead of
schedule. I have a bit of a tailwind and am averaging over 15 mph. If anything,
I need to slow down a bit to save some energy. The only bad thing is that I
don't feel like eating, and yet I know I have to force feed myself to keep
my energy up. And my stomach feels blah. I have a nifty feature on my heart monitor
that estimates Calories expended. I've expended about 4000 Cal but only eaten about
1000 if that. So at about 10:45AM I decide to stop at a Great American in Unadilla
and get a turkey sandwitch.
(Read the rest here: http://icycle.org/pipermail/flcc_icycle.org/2005-August/001763.html)
Of course, I just searched "long boring story" in google.
Now wish her a happy birthday.
balloonsHAPPY 17thballoons
First you must read this:
Homer Simpson once said
"What's the point of going out, we're just going to end up back here anyway?"
I suppose this could apply to most of the bike rides and races I have done.
So while many of my brothers and sisters were engaged in triathlons, road races,
and whatnot this past weekend, the kinds where you start and end in the same place,
I did the kind of ride where you start in one place and end up in another one
far far away. Then instead of riding back, you get a ride back to where you
started from, in order to render the whole ordeal utterly useless. Kind of
like the Buddhist monks that make the beautiful colored sand designs and then
let the wind blow them away.
Here is some background. My wife's parents live in Clifton Park, just north
of Albany. We drive up to see them about once every two months, so I am pretty
familiar with the towns along the route. Last summer I got a wacky notion in
my head, wondering if I could ride from Ithaca to Albany in one day. I was smart
enough to not try last year, but when Ellen took the girls to see their grandparents
for a few days, I decided that Sunday would be D-Day. (D as in "Do I know what
I am Doing?"
I would ride out and meet the family there, then we would all drive back together. If I ran into trouble and wanted to bail, they could start
home and pick me up. I settled on using more or less the same route I drive,
except that Route 7 would replace I-88, and I would have to pick my way through
downtown Schenectady instead of taking the usual sections of the Thruway/Northway.
That way if I needed to be picked up there would be no complicated direction-giving
and I would eliminate any anxieties about getting off course, etc.
Plus most of the harder climbing would be done by the time I reached Bainbridge.
Now, dreaming up strange ways to challenge yourself and actually seeing them
through are two entirely different things. For some of my randonneur friends,
maybe this would not be such a big deal. But I am more of a Bilbo Baggins
worry-wart guy, not usually the adventuresome type, so after getting all my
things together (including printing out maps of Schenectady, buying a Camelback,
driving up to my parents' house to borrow their cell phone, and installing my
bike headlamp) it really hit me that I was doing something out of the ordinary
on Saturday night when I set my alarm for 4:30 AM. I was nervous about getting
to Schenectady after dark, so I figured I would start in the dark on roads I
knew (with little or no traffic) to give myself enough of a time cushion.
And Ellen didn't want to get home too late that night. I didn't really care
when I got home, just as long as I got there, but its good to keep the
family happy.
As it turns out, I didn't need to set any alarm. I spent a restless night
listening to some local coyotes making a racket, getting anxious about whether
they would attack a lone cyclist on a dark (and wet) road. That and wondering
when the rain would stop. And if you hit a deer at 5AM on a dark road, with no
one around, does it make a noise? Seems pretty funny now, but it wasn't so
funny then.
Aside from having riding partners, one way to make sure you will see these kinds
of things through is to boast to your male buddies at work of your weekend plans so
that you will be too embarassed to show up on Monday and tell them you didn't
make it out the door. When I got out of bed at 4:30 AM and looked at the wet road,
that thought was the only thing that motivated me to get my stuff on, eat some
cereal, and head out. I checked the radar, and it seemed to indicate that the rain
was over and done. The National Weather Service forecast for Sunday said "partly
sunny, highs in the mid-80s." So, already a bit overloaded with stuff, and seeing
as it was very warm and humid out, I opted to leave the rain jacket at home.
As it turns out, this was a mistake. You'd think since I pay my taxes, I would be
able to get a decent weather forecast but I guess it doesn't work that way.
More on that later.
Wow, a whole page of writing and I'm just getting to the actual riding part.
Good thing no one invites me to give graduation speeches.
So off I go on West Dryden Road torwards Dryden. It is dark at 5:15 AM. The
road is damp but not enough to send any consistent spray up, just a puddle here
and there. The 5-year old battery pack on my headlamp seems to be holding a
charge just fine. No pack of rabid coyotes attacks me. Around Harford, there
is enough light to see clearly, and by the time I get to Marathon, the sun is rising.
I have seen only about two cars this entire time. I top off my water bottles,
snack on some Fritos, and press on to Whitney Point where I stop for a quick
(decaf) coffee. I almost always drink decaf so I can really get a kick when I
need it, and I'll definitely need a kick later.
The way I figured it, the hard part would be from Whitney Point to Cobleskill.
>From Whitney Point to Bainbridge would be about thirty hilly miles, then about
sixty more through Oneonta to Cobleskill; if I can make it to Cobleskill then
I'll see the light at the end of the tunnel. I head out on 206 and start climbing,
trying to keep my HR at a sustainable rate. After the first few hills, around 8:30AM
I stopped in Greene for a break. I called Ellen and told her where I was. I
noticed the front-page headline of the Post-Standard: "Local bicyclist killed by car
in Cicero." Hopefully there will be no such headlines in the Journal tomorrow,
I think. I'm feeling guilty about skipping out of church early the day before,
and wondering what my punishment from God will be.
My next stop is in Coventry. More junk food gets ingested. As I eat my granola bar
I hear a mother in the apartment over the store screaming at her children. It
sounded like her normal mode of communication. Kind of depressing. I vow that if
I make it to Albany and see my girls, I will wait at least 24 hours before I scream
at them for anything. As I'm leaving the clerk tells me it looks like rain.
"Oh no," I say with some authority. "The radar looked clear when I left, and the
forecast said it would clear up and get sunny." What do these store clerks in
little towns know about Intellicast and uswx.com? I'm an amateur weather buff,
after all. Still, the clouds to the north do look a little foreboding, I admit
to myself as I press on to Bainbridge.
I hit Bainbridge at around 9:45 AM. Coasting into town, I see a few of my brother
firefighters lounging around in front of the Bainbridge FD. Instead of stopping
at the local stop-and-rob, perhaps I'll stop and have a chat with them while
I fill my bottles, I think. The cleanliness of their bathroom left something to
be desired, as did their interest in chatting. I think they thought I was some kind
of impostor claiming to be a firefighter. I was, however, able to ascertain
that it was about 27 miles up Route 7 to Oneonta. So off I went. My plan was to
make a longer stop in Oneonta and maybe sit down somewhere for a nice greasy lunch.
I amuse myself as I ride by wondering what kinds of chemical and biological residue
from the Bainbridge firefighters I now have in my water bottle. I decide maybe
I will stick to bottled water from here on.
Up until now, things have gone more or less according to plan and I am ahead of
schedule. I have a bit of a tailwind and am averaging over 15 mph. If anything,
I need to slow down a bit to save some energy. The only bad thing is that I
don't feel like eating, and yet I know I have to force feed myself to keep
my energy up. And my stomach feels blah. I have a nifty feature on my heart monitor
that estimates Calories expended. I've expended about 4000 Cal but only eaten about
1000 if that. So at about 10:45AM I decide to stop at a Great American in Unadilla
and get a turkey sandwitch.
(Read the rest here: http://icycle.org/pipermail/flcc_icycle.org/2005-August/001763.html)
Of course, I just searched "long boring story" in google.
Now wish her a happy birthday.
balloonsHAPPY 17thballoons
Thankoo Kaykay.
