Nothing Changes but the Road Kill: Sometimes that doesn't change much!

A while ago a friend of mine and I were talking when I said that although I missed Montana, it was really becoming homogenized in the sense that all of the cities are the same as any other city in the U.S. with the orange glow of the Home Depot and neon lights of Applebee's and Chili's.  His response was that he drove his son to college on the other side of the continent and that all that really changed from state to state was the road kill.  I love and use it when people ask about moving all the time "Nothing changes but the roadkill" I say.  While it is clearly an understatement; obviously some places are greener or more mountainous, it is very true nothing changes too much.

Hiking in Missouri.  Diga and Nater love to hike.  I love this picture, it makes me wish I were a better photographer.

Well, we have moved again and though it seems that we haven't since the roadkill consists mainly of raccoons and opossum in Iowa/Illinois/Kansas/Missouri, bicycling opportunities have definitely changed.   Dramatic changes.  While the Quad Cities is not my favorite place ever it was an amazing bicycling community.  The hundreds of miles of well maintained bike paths and delightful mountain bike parks seem to have vanished into thin air.  As with my beloved LBS Bike and Hike, Rock Island, IL.

Don't get me wrong, Kansas has an amazing bicycling element;  there are mountain bike parks, Dirty Kanza, some great rail to trail opportunities, and from what I can tell a healthy cyclocross scene.......Just not where I am.  There is one bike shop, the jury is still out on that.  Silly me, I asked them if there  were any bike paths around and they all stopped what they were doing and stared at me as if I was I was the glowing green and holding a sign that said "dumbest guy on earth."  I have been in several times and they act like it my first every time I walk through the door.  It is not like I am some famous guy, but does it hurt to pretend!

The Irish Tsunami all strung out while exploring some new hiking and biking opportunities.  

The best part of moving is exploring new places.  I have been on a few shop rides (they see me riding with them though they act like they don't know me when I walk in the shop) and the landscape is beautiful.  Rolling hills with some steeper and longer climbs than I am used to.  Less corn, more hay and trees.  It is nice.  My big issue is that the nearest MTB park is 30 miles away.  With soaring gas prices I may be focusing on road riding.  It is too bad I am mountain bike heavy and have neglected the road stuff for a while.  This is exactly why I have an arsenal of bikes.  I can do just about anything just about anywhere.  They make moving a challenge but it is worth it.

OGRE + LAS CRUCES + ANTHEM X29er + BASSO + MUKLUK= Go anywhere, do anything!

  

Heartland Century

It has been a couple of weeks (ok more like a month) since the Heartland Century. It was a nice 107 mile ride (supposed to be 104 but I got lost) through Illinois farmland. The county roads are amazing, paved, clean, and most important minimal traffic with polite drivers. The high was about 80 degrees and the morning started with a nice cool mist. For my first century I performed well beyond my expectations and the personal goal I set (8 hours). As for my preparation:

1. Ride as much as possible: I rode as much as possible (which was not nearly enough).

2. Get a good set of tires: I did not flat (not sure if that had to do with a good set of tires or the reasonably clean roads).

3. Drink a bunch of water: I did a lousy job of hydrating for the several days before the ride. It turns out that Diet Coke is not a water substitute (shocking I know).

4. Shove my jersey pockets as full of Jelly Belly Caffeine Sports Beans and Cliff Bars as possible: I never made it to the bike shop to purchase Jelly Belly Caffeine Sports Beans. Recent studies show that caffeine is a great for enhancing athletic performance, I was mainly trying to stay off withdrawal due to lack of Diet Coke. Fortunately the "continental breakfast" consisted of energy bars and gels so I used the Caffienated Clif Shot gels (nasty) at the sign in table. I ate about 3 or so Pearson's Salted Nut Rolls (240 calories apiece) during the ride and a standard Clif bar (240 calories).

As for getting lost I would like to point out that I am not from the area and this part of Illinois is like a giant maize maze. I am anti-GPS (for use as other than a speedometer and odometer (mine is basic no road maps, just data). The cue sheet that was handed out was long and without a map, missing a turn or missing a mileage mark translates to lost. To make it easier, the Quad Cities Bike Club paints a bright orange heart on the pavement with an arrow. But I missed a turn in the small town of Erie, Illinois where I took a few mile detour around the down town area.

For this ride I chose the Basso aka "the Mistress." This was a comfortable choice, however, it is high geared and is limited to 16 gears. I bought some new Continental Gatorskin tires in a 25c for the durability. Aside from the gearing and limited choice of shifting, it is a great bike and for being 16 years old it does an amazing job.

Below are some super high quality pics of my ride stats. If you need to, turn your monitor sideways to view the pictures.

This is clearly a picture of the trip odometer for the ride.

Moving Time was 6 hours 31 minutes. This did not calculate the time I spent eating at the mid point SAG. Average speed is 16.5 MPH

As you can see, the map feature is fairly detail free, there are no road map features. If someone would like to get me a Garmin Edge 800 for a gift I could probably upload really cool ride stats and profiles instead of using a camera. I have a feeling that for $500 I will continue with my camera and old GPS.

I would like to add that while rides like this are not about racing, my family blood does not permit me to participate in anything without it becoming some sort of competition in the end. This quality is both a burden and a blessing which ultimately allows a person like me to survive in a world of intelligent and talented people. I found myself racing some people who started before me, did not get lost, and did not sit and eat/drink as long as I did. At one point I found myself working hard to catch a man that was about 1/4 mile ahead of me. After several miles of relentless pursuit I caught the man. As I overtook him I gave a friendly greeting of the day. To my surprise, it was a woman. To be clear, I was not surprised a woman was "beating" me in a "race," that has happened plenty in life. She just looked like a man!

I quickly shook that off and began my pursuit of another "man," as I got closer I was assured of this based on the fact that facial hair was present. What shocked me about this guy was that he looked as though he would be better suited for bowling or low endurance activities such as watching NASCAR. To my surprise, he could pedal.

I guess that is what I like about bicycling, anyone can do it, regardless of age, gender, or shape. Though it does help to be young, fit, and prepared.

I have done quite a few 30 mile rides during the last few weeks. During that time I have been been making a lot of adjustments that will make longer distances more comfortable.

The Basso is set up for racing and has a stem that drops a little more than I would like. Not that I spend a lot of time in drops but it is nice to have a variety of riding positions, this helps kinks in the back and arms. I moved the stem up a quarter of an inch. We will see if that helps.

I also picked up some Continental Gatorskins in a 25c. I have heard great things about them and the larger size will help reduce some of the road chatter.

The other day I had to pull the bottom bracket and grease it. Apparently the grease had broken down as it sat for 15 years. I couldn't take the creaking anymore. That was a lot easier than I thought it would be. I initially planned on taking into the LBS, however, the guy said it would be cheaper if I did it. So far so good.

I also bought a box of Pearson's Salted Nut Rolls. This is one of the best candy bars ever. They have as many calories as your standard energy bar but better tasting. I plan on loading my jersey pockets with them for the century.

You know what they say, "no pain, no pain."

Racing to Disaster

Today I took a big step. I decided to ride the Basso to work and I didn’t care if it got dirty. Up to this point it has been hanging on the wall like a knock off Picasso (I prefer Monet, but Picasso rhymes with Basso). It has been raining a lot lately. Not only have I become soft, I know that the residue from the road will get on my white Rolls seat and in every nook and cranny on the bike. I know that at some point I will ride it regularly and the clean, freshly lubed chain will become black with use. That the aluminum chain rings will also get black with grime around the teeth.

Once it gets dirty or a scratch/chip I will have no reservations whatsoever to ride it rain or shine. This leads me to an interesting thought. Humans are peculiar for several reasons. First, we preserve or protect what we seek to harm or destroy. Other times we seek to preserve what should be used. Take the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation. This organization seeks to protect and preserve elk habitat, allowing them to grow big….so we can kill them. Yellowstone National Park is another example with about 2 million people visiting every year. Although Yellowstone was preserved for our enjoyment, snow machine (sorry I spent time in Alaska) use in the winter is considered polluting and loud. Seriously, with 2 million people visiting we are concerned with noise and pollution?

Anyway, now that I am out of my philosophical mood, so I decided to race to work on my bike (the Basso is geared for racing so I cannot saunter or coast anywhere on it). I would like to say that it was not a good day to have the Basso on the road. True, these circumstances may have been the same no matter what bike I was on. The first happened as I was passing through Lee Avenue Gate onto Fort Lee. No matter how you get on post, you must show identification. So there I was, one foot on the ground and a hand in the air to get my card back from the security officer when I felt a sudden jolt. At first I thought it was my imagination. Then it occurred to me that the man in the car behind me had rolled into my rear wheel. As I said to the security guy “that guy just bumped me, he rolled into me again.” Being that I am a peace loving individual, and buy that I mean to say that I like to avoid confrontation in front of security guards with 9 mm pistols.

So I decided I would follow him to his destination and confront him there. The problem was that he would not drive next to me or past me. So I looked back and saw him turn into the health clinic. I raced (because I have a bike geared for racing) back to find him. I saw his car and noticed two things, one was that my tire mark was on his bumper. Two was that he had a Sergeant Major sticker on his window. Even though I technically out rank a Sergeant Major, they can make my life miserable and they usually are in cahoots with a person that does out rank me. So I girded up my loins when I saw a man that closely resembled a crippled and really old Santa Claus step out of his car. This very well may be his modus operandi, “if I look old and crippled and smell like urine I can get away with anything.” Well he did, I can only imagine how bad it would look if I was yelling at some old guy with handicap plates. So I nicely told him that he should be more careful. He then gave me some stupid excuse as to why he ran into me. Then I raced away to work (because I have a bike geared for racing).

So after a long, boring, and painful day of work, I had my ride to look forward to. I raced away from my office (because I have a bike geared for racing). I tried to make it through a left arrow traffic signal and decided I was not going to make it through no matter how my bike was geared. As I raced to a stop, I did not notice that I had travelled past the big white bar on the road and since I was in the left turn lane I could scoot to the side of the road. Several cars turned past me with no problem. Then the light began to turn amber and a lady in a big Cadillac (no offense to any in-laws that may have driven Cadillac) decided she was going to race through it (apparently her car is also geared for racing). In doing so it was necessary to cut the turn a little where she missed my front wheel by a couple of inches. It is true that I was slightly past the white line, however, I was covered in reflective material and a bright red jacket (which also had reflective material on it).

I have always tried to wear bright colors and use extremely bright lights and reflective gear. Additionally, I obey traffic lights and signs just as I would do in a car. I have not had this many close calls in a single day of my entire life. Well except for those times I was shot at and hit by roadside bombs in Iraq, but you know what I mean.

Confession

My life has spun out of control and it is time that I get it back under control. In order to get it back in order, I must first admit that I have a problem. As I have gone through life my experiences have changed who I am and what I believe. I have lost track of what my priorities are, as such, I have made a number of decisions that I am not proud of. I am not who my family thinks I am, I live a double life. It is not something that I am proud of but I think it can be repaired with time and understanding.

While it is difficult to live a life of lies, it is even more difficult to tell the truth. For the past couple of years while my wife thought I was working late, I have actually been places I should not have been looking at things I shouldn't be looking at. The other day while I was supposed to be at a doctor’s appointment in Portsmouth, I was at such a place. I should have been on my way home to be with my family, but there I was, with her.

What makes this time different is that I got emotionally involved. I have always justified the fact that it is okay to look as long as it does not go any further. Yesterday it did. On my drive home I couldn't stop thinking about the slender build and curves. I have been distracted since, I cannot concentrate at work, I keep thinking about the connection we had. I am not one that believes in fate or destiny, but how is it that we were both there at the same time. It was so random, so wrong, but it felt so right. It is not some infatuation that will be short lived. She is foreign, mysterious, well kept, and beautiful. There was an amazing connection.

The problem is that I know that we would spend so much time together we would not be able to hide it; other aspects of my life would suffer. What I cannot believe is that she has been untouched and lonely for the last 15 years. I could make her so happy, take her places she has never been, and give her the love she deserves.

These are not the thoughts that a man who has a wonderful wife and four children should be having. I have been married for 11 years yet I lust after another. Then it got worse, I could not wait until lunch to call. The minutes seem like hours. Hours have turned into days. This is not fair to my family, yet I long to touch her.

When I got the courage to tell Emily, I already knew what her reaction would be. I begged her to at least listen. “Hear me out” I cried. She finally composed herself enough to at least hear what I had to say. Her response was as expected “no, you cannot get another bike.”

As previously explained, from time to time I would go to bike shops; I assured her that I only wanted to look. But what are the odds that I would walk into a bike shop and see a 15 year old Basso lugged steel bike with original Campagnolo Chorus gruppo that has never been ridden. You may not be convinced either, but here is where the possibility of fate comes in….wait for it….it is a 62cm bike. What are the odds that it would be in some small out of the way shop for 15 years and my size? It is not like there are many 6”3” Italians running around.

This has never been ridden, of course the slender build is the fine tubing of a steel bike and the curves are the limited edition Cinelli Ergo66 handle bars with matching stem. It has never had pedals on it. I must get back to work, when I say work I mean working out a way to pay for this fine Italian beauty.