A Jesuit's Journey: Playing By Ear

Okay, this has nothing to do with riding a bicycle, but I haven't been able to get much riding in lately, and this was too beautiful to pass up sharing.

A Jesuit's Journey: Playing By Ear

Karl

I ran into two cycling buddies yesterday (well, not literally). Keith was out having pizza with his parents and Karl was selling Keith the pizza. You could put me on a road bike and put Keith on a mountain bike and set us racing down the road and Keith would still kick my tail six ways from Sunday (whatever that means).

Karl hasn't been on the bike in a year. An entire year. I am amazed. He's going to give me a call so we can do some riding and he can get himself back in shape.

The last ride I was on with Karl, there were a group of us riding in a paceline, and Karl hit a hole, went down and took a divot out of his leg. I ended up calling a friend for pickup and taking him to the emergency room where a handy doctor armed with a needle and thread stopped the bleeding. Karl ended up with an interesting story and a really cool scar.

Hm. Do you suppose this is why he hasn't ridden in a year?

Lance Armstrong

Here at the blog we like to serve up fresh and tasty nuggets of nonsense, but today we are going to follow the plan used by bakeries worldwide and serve up one or two day old leftovers instead. (I would say that we were offering these leftovers at a reduced price, but since the blog is free, the only way I could reduce the price would be by paying you to read this stuff, and I’d rather not. You’ll have to take your chances without monetary compensation.)

Lance Armstrong crashed hard in Monday’s opening stage of the Vuelta a Castilla y León and was transported by ambulance to a hospital in nearby Palencia, Spain. Race organizers and the Astana team doctor confirmed that the seven-time Tour de France champion had broken his right collarbone after Armstrong underwent an X-ray at a hospital in the city of Valladolid.

“Lance suffered a fracture of the middle third of the right collarbone as well as some bruises on his right hip and arm,” said team doctor Pedro Celaya, who was with Armstrong at the hospital.

Armstrong left the hospital Monday evening and said he was "miserable." "It has never happened before, I feel very disappointed," he told reporters as he left the hospital. "I feel miserable right now so I have to relax a few days."

He nodded when asked if he would return to the United States, telling reporters his participation in the Giro d'Italia in May "will be very complicated."

Now, Lance Armstrong is, of course, a worldwide success story, an immensely wealthy man and someone who competed successfully at the highest levels of his sport. I am a guy sitting behind a keyboard pretty much because I can’t think of anything more entertaining to do, so when it comes to choosing between the two of us, your best bet is to go with Lance. Now, you would think that this would pretty much be a cue to me to end this post here, but, since I can’t take my own advice, I shall now type some more words.

Lots of people have been watching Lance’s comeback at the ripe old age of 37. (Since I am older than Lance, I get a bit depressed when I hear people talking about how old the poor fellow is, practically in his dotage and all that, but it does seem to be a point that a lot of people feel a need to comment on.)

In his heyday as a professional cyclist (and if “heyday” isn’t a strange word, I don’t know what is) Lance was renowned for his mental toughness and resilience. I guess we’ll see if taking a few years off from racing has done anything to reduce that mental toughness now.

And, speaking of mental toughness…

I have been doing paperwork all day. This requires a sort of physical endurance, I suppose, and it definitely requires some mental diligence and effort. What I really want to be doing is…riding my bike. Yes, we are all stunned by this revelation – the guy writing the cycling blog wishes he were out writing his bike. It’s very cold out today. The weather is going from frigid to quite temperate every few hours, apparently unable to make up its mind, but, cold or not, windy or not, I wish I was out there. (It is easy to say that you wish you were on the road in spite of the wind when you know you have no chance of getting out there, but in this particular case it happens to be true.)

Lance is having some enforced time off the bike. I’m having some enforced time off the bike (and there all similarities between us end.) I hope that you are managing to get some ride time. If you are, have fun.

See you on the road.

33

I have been busy, so the warm days managed to trickle by without my being able to ride. I was getting bad tempered, I think, by the time that Saturday finally rolled around. I got up around 6:30, and it was freezing outside. Also, I just didn't want to be up at 6:30, so I crawled back into the nicewarm bed and fell asleep and my chance to ride was gone. Or so I thought.Then, later in the day, came those wonderful words from wonderful lips. My Lovely Lovely said, “Why don’t you go ride your bike?” Well, okay. If you insist. It was midafternoon, the sun was up, and I was headed out the door.

To be disgusted in the garage. I had optimistically put on fingerless gloves and a lightweight hat. I quickly came back in and changed them for full fingered gloves and a winter hat with flaps that cover my ears. It’s still cold. I was sick of the cold. I was still going to ride.

My bike was freshly cleaned and polished and waxed – I had been frustrated the day before about not being to ride and had vented my frustration in a burst of bike related bath giving - so, of course, it wentfaster. That’s a rule – a clean bike goes faster. You knew that one, right?

It was cold, it was very windy, and I was like a dog that’s been let off the chain after a long period of confinement. I was ready to go. I dug into the wind and headed down the road. My philosophy for dealing with the wind is to assume that it is going to blow in just that same way forever. I just find a rhythm and settle in. I did make a quick stop to pick up some stones from a gravel driveway. There are these two large dogs that like to run out into the street after me, and I thought I’d like to be prepared rather than be an entrée.

Now, I knew that I wasn’t really supposed to be gone a very long time. We were expecting company from out of town, so my Lovely Lovely was certainly expecting me back home after a fairly brief ride, so when I got to the corner I had two good options. I could go straight or turn left, either of which would put me on the same fifteen mile loop, and I kind of somehow turned right. I’m still not quite sure how that happened, but it did.

Ten miles into the ride, I had to stop. Now, I hate having to stop when I’m going into the wind. I had my rhythm going and would lose it if I stopped. Of course, my other option was not to stop, but, as that would have meant getting flattened by a tractor, I opted to veto that one and stop.

By tractor I mean the front part of a tractor trailer, not a farm implement, by the way. A man was directing two of them from one side of the road to the other. When I stopped, he looked at me and asked, “Aren’t you tired?”

“A little bit,” I said. “The wind is a bear.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “It’s really cold out.”

(Well, we know that wasn’t what I meant, but that’s okay. He was a nice guy and he meant well.)

When the trucks were done, I took off. A short time later both trucks passed me very safely, giving me a lot of room. Thank you very much.

Another right turn and a head-crosswind becomes a cross-headwind. Okey-dokey. I was having a great time, my legs felt good, and I just kind of kept crusing. Five miles later (yes, I have exceeded my short fifteen mile ride by this time) I made yet another right turn and the wind became a tail wind.

Yeeeehah…big chain ring, high pace, wide smooth shoulder, could I ask for anything more? Nope. I was cruising. So were the two mastiffs who came racing out after me. Uh-oh. Oh, wait. I have stones in my pocket. I pulled out whipped it in the direction of the dogs.

Okay, I intended to whip it in their direction. It turns out that I have remarkably poor throwing skills. Who knew? The stone wasn’t so much whipped as tossed gently, and it didn’t so much fly as it skittered across the asphalt, missing the lead dog by a good three feet. If it had hit him squarely, he wouldn’t have noticed it anyway. I settled in and managed to out run them both.

One more right turn (yes, this is a square here) and a nice hilly road to finish off with. I ended up with thirty three miles and our company was an hour and a half late, so I didn’t get into trouble even though I admit that I deserved to get in trouble.

Was that a good day or what? I’m ready to go again.

See you on the road.

Heading home

On my way to work I was wearing some winter gear and pushing the

pace because I didn’t want to be late. On the way home I was wearing

lighter gear and had all the time in the world and a lovely day to ride in.

I didn’t have to push the pace at all, so, inexplicably, I did. I don’t know

what happened. I was thinking about how nice the sun felt and how

tired and lazy I was feeling, and then I was thinking about how good my

legs felt and how easily the pedals were turning and then I started

thinking that, though I had made it to work in good time, maybe I could

make it home even faster…

Well, you can figure out the rest from there. What could have been a

lazy ride turned into a “how hard can you go” ride. Hey, either type of

ride is fun as long as you’re in the mood for it. Of course, my head and

my legs were in different moods but, as so often happens when that is

the case on the bike, my legs won.

The cars which had been so nice I the morning were rather less nice in

the afternoon. Now, I have nothing against pickups, but apparently

they have something against me,since three of the four vehicles that

passed me unsafely were pickups.

So, let’s see…morning cold, afternoon warm. Morning cars good,

afternoon cars bad. Am I forgetting anything? I was sure there was

one more difference…oh…right. Morning no dogs.

This large white dog of indeterminate parentage was behind his house

when he saw me. I noticed how far away he was – he didn’t notice me

until I got to his yard – and discounted him. This turned out to be an

error, because that dog must have had some hidden greyhound ancestry

or possibly some hidden jet engine ancestry. Wow. He caught me and

kept pace with me. My brain tried to coax a little more out of my legs,

but my legs were quite sure there was nothing else left. They did

manage to wring out a couple of miles per hour, but the dog merely

laughed sarcastically. He was having no trouble keeping up with me.

Fortunately for me, he never came into the street and,when we reached

the cross street he peeled off and headed back home,happy with a job

well done. I tried to convince my heart to slow down and to remain

inside my chest. I was successful.

Those days when your brain and your body disagree are always strange,

but my body definitely won this round. I kept the pace high all the way

home. I was two minutes faster than in the morning. That was nice. I

would have hated it if I had ridden hard all the way home and not been

any faster than in the morning.

Isn't commuting fun?

It is for me.

See you on the road.

A Brisk Morning Ride

Well, I will admit that, when I got up and found out that it was 41 degrees Fahrenheit outside, my enthusiasm for commuting today was slightly dimmed, but it didn’t stop me. Of course, this is going to be a typical North Carolina day for this time of year – cold in the morning, warm in the afternoon, so I almost need two sets of clothes.

Let’s see…two caps – the fluffy one with the earflaps for the morning and the light one for the afternoon goes in the messenger bag. (If you don’t wear a cycling cap, you don’t know what you’re missing. My favorites are right here.) Two pairs of gloves – the cross country skier gloves for the morning and the fingerless gloves for the afternoon go in the messenger bag. Now pick a jacket. I need one heavy enough that I won’t freeze this morning but light enough that it will fit in the messenger bag for the ride home. Toss in my lunch, fill up a water bottle and away we go.

(Does Batman have to do this sort of thing when he takes a trip? (Let's see...normal underwear on the body, bat underwear in the bag just in case. Normal shirt on the body, bat shirt in the bag just in case...)

Now, a commute can go one of two ways – it can be easy and pleasant or you might have to push the pace. Unfortunately for me, I was a little late getting out of the house this morning, so that meant that I had to push the pace all the way there. I remember thinking that, if I had been on my road bike instead of the hybrid…well, I’m sure you get the picture.

The road was covered with 2000 lb beasts, but nearly all of the drivers were polite and courteous and none of the displayed a serious desire to see the color of my insides. I did run into one honker (politely meant, I’m sure, but I’d still rather they didn’t) and, as the cars streamed past me, I was reminded of a group ride down the shoulder of a busy road when someone else meant well but…

As riders, we were quite safe. The shoulder was paved and well maintained and several feet wide, so the cars had all the clearance they needed, but the traffic flow was steady. Now, generally speaking, the riders in the rear will call out, “Car back!” as a car approaches us from behind just to make sure that everyone is aware. On this particular ride, we had a group member who is particularly diligent about this. Of course, on this road, there was always a car back. One passed us every five or ten seconds, and this person felt compelled to sing out about every single one of them for the three miles that we were riding along this road. Just think about that for a few minutes and imagine what it’s like. Then stop thinking about it because it will give you a headache.

Anyway, by pushing the pace, I did make it to work on time, and my home will be quite leisurely, I assure you. I’m looking forward to it.

See you on the road.

Oh say can you see...

I thought that today was going to be a good day to ride to work, but I was wrong.

The time was good – my work day begins late enough today that I can ride after the sun comes up.
That’s an especially good thing right now since the rear light I use (affectionately called the Disco Inferno) needs a new battery.

The temperature was good – not hot by any means, but not too cold either. (Is there a Goldilocks thing going on here?)

The wind was good – there wasn’t any.

So, what was the problem?

THE FOG

It was one of those pea soup sort of days out there, right out of some kind of horror movie. (Possibly one about fog.) I decided that discretion was the better part of valor (especially given the current state of darkness of the Disco Inferno) and took the 2000 lb. beast instead. To my mind, bikes and cars and thick fog don't go togehter very well.

But tomorrow is another day, and I'm hoping to commute into work.

Wish me luck.

See you on the road.