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cycling / Monday / photo — Comments Off
29
Jul 24

Silently whirring on roads

I am trying, trying, to get back in the swing of things. A few inches at a time, one step at a time, whatever it is. The word lethargy comes to mind. So does the word apathy. I wanted to say it’s a combination, an intersection of the two, except they are the same.

I turned down a party invite and a day trip because it just didn’t feel like I would be the best company this weekend. Pretending takes energy, and there’s lethargy. It seemed a rare moment of self awareness, a moment that make no sense.

I took an easy little bike ride on Saturday evening. It seems like I’m always taking these breaks from the bike and there’s always a reset. Maybe it isn’t really necessary. Maybe the point is just being on a road somewhere.

This requires no pretending. This I have energy for. The mental sort, anyway. Still takes fuel and rest to pedal yourself around, even if only a little bit. Even if you can coast by a winery and try to line up a sunset.

Sometime later, though it doesn’t like it should be, I decided to show off my new glasses. In the evening you don’t need shades, but it’s good to protect the eyes.

I’m wearing actual safety glasses. Hardware store specials. The cheapest thing possible. And they’re also incredibly lightweight. So lightweight that the arms are basically all a very flimsy rubber. This is fine, except for when you need to take the glasses off and then put them back on.

Also, I thought that maybe I could catch the sun behind me. Took a few tries, but good east-west roads are worthy of the effort.

One last sun photo …

And then immediately opposite, my favorite, nicely lit, hay shed.

I’ve been waiting a while to take that shot.

I have no recollection of the next five or six miles. I was deep into imagining a speech I’ll never give. (It happens, but usually in the car.) I got back to the house and wasn’t even sure if I’d taken the route I wanted. (I did.) It was a good speech, though.

Last night I took a a 30-mile ride. New roads!

I love new roads. There’s something romantic about being lost on a bike. Lost is a relative term here, I’d mapped this route on an app beforehand, but a good portion of my plan was all new.

And then, of course, I missed a turn on my route. For a time, I was actually lost, which is also great. I wasn’t that far from home, just two towns away, and there was still plenty of light, and before you long I ran across a road I knew. That took me to another road, which allowed me to double back, because there was light, and get back on my original course. Along the way I ran across a farm I remember from a ride last November.

And then I breezed by what is, I think, a new-to-me barn.

It can be awfully pretty out here. And, at that time in the evening, when everyone is already where they needed to be, it can be wonderfully peaceful, too.

Here are some more sunset photos, this one through the cornfields on the way back to our neighborhood.

And after those cornfields, you go through a few more cornfields.

There is a great deal of corn just now.

And close to home, and just in time for a nice glimpse of the sun retiring into the distance.

After that I made myself a giant peach smoothie dinner. But that’s an uninteresting topic I’ll share with you later this week — when I have time to make it more interesting. Now, we have to head out for another pastime.

adventures / cycling / Monday / photo / swimming — Comments Off
8
Jul 24

A mere mortal, birds and a frog

I’m beginning to feel better, thanks for asking. It is now later in the day before I feel sapped. It takes a bit more exertion to feel weary. These are important progressions, signs and portents of recovery summer. Don’t think I’m not frustrated by having been laid semi-low for three weeks and change from a sinus infection. We’ll see how I hold up this week.

I will demand refunds. I will not get them, but I will demand them.

But I am improving!

Here’s a bit of proof. I had a nice long swim on Saturday. It was ugly. I think I wrote, in my tracking app, that it wa ragged. Or raggedy. It was at least one of those things, if not both.

But I got in 2,000 yards. I jumped in the pool fully expecting I would soon be frustrated, but about a third of the way through I began to wonder if, instead of dying in the water, my shoulders would ever warm up. And then, finally they did. About two-thirds of the way through it finally turned into an acceptable swim.

That usually lasts about 500 yards for me, even on a normal day.

Tried a bike ride, just my second ride of the month and my third ride in … a while. (That’s how you know I’ve not been goldbricking, I suppose.) I had a little ride last Monday and it turned into one of the weirdest, hardest experiences I’ve had in years. So waiting was the new plan, and I did that until Friday.

My lovely bride invited me on a 25-mile ride. Then she told me the route she planned, and I knew this was not a 25-mile ride. I didn’t say anything, because some things have to be learned, and re-learned, for yourself. This is how it went.

Started out great! Tailwind! Much fast, many pedals, happy mood.

Then, for an inexplicable reason, I saw this guy in a corn field.

I rode well for the first hour, and then struggled for 20 minutes or so. And then, at exactly 25 miles, my legs had a talk with my mind and soon after I was left to sweat and struggle my way through a humid half hour.

When I got back, I received a cute little apology that the 25-mile route was, in fact, a 34-mile ride.

We’ve done that route, a combination of our two default rides, several times before, but some things insist on being learned in their own time. I’m sure, in time, we’ll have that same experience again. I’ll just fuel better.

In the meantime, I have to get back in better shape.

I sat outside the other night and listened to the noisy, noisy birds. Usually they blend in, but they were adamant at being noticed at midnight, when good birds should be sleeping. And then I remembered I have this app on my phone that listens to bird song and tells me who is violating noise ordinances.

These were our Friday night birds.

On Saturday morning, we had another visitor. He’s been by before. This, I assure you, is a sturdy, thick, frog.

No idea where he comes to us from. I always try to make sure he’s got good coverage. I wish I knew his pond or stream, so I could help him get back there. The closest water is about 900 yards away. That would have been quite a few hops, even for a frog of this size.

Sunday afternoon posing.

And speaking of posing, as we check in on the kitties, it’s the return of … Super Phoebe!

When she’s done taking a nap like that, she will push off with her back legs and spin herself down to the floor. Super Phoebe is a hopefully, an excellent nap.

Here she is in her secret identity, Posing Phoebe.

Every now and again Poseidon rediscovers the exhaust installation over the stove.

Thankfully, he leaves the spice cabinets alone. Perhaps surprisingly so. That’d be his sort of chaos, really.

As I often say about him, it is a good thing he can be charming.

But that’s not fooling anyone.

adventures / cycling / music / photo / Tuesday / video — Comments Off
2
Jul 24

What a big screen we have

Really, the only problem is that I’m tired. I’ve had a mild cause of symptoms of most everything that you’ll find listed with sinusitis. Oddly, each comes and goes. What troubled me last night was fine this morning. And something else comes along to be the day’s first mild ache or pain — always underlined with a cough, which is, usually, italicized by the gentlest sniffle I’ve ever encountered.

Always, when my sinus decide to bother me it’s days of not being able to breathe. This time, thankfully, that’s not been an issue, which is odd. And oddly welcome.

The biggest thing is just the fatigue. Nothing like a bit of seasonal doldrums in the middle of the summer.

The weather is nice. Nice and warm.

Meaning it was a good evening to try our new setup. Projector, screen, sports.

Just in time for the Tour, the Olympics and maybe some late night old movies, too.

Set up was easy. We’ll improve our storing technique in time.

Speaking of bike riding, here’s my little chart of miles through the first half of the year. Really flattened out the last two weeks, huh?

In the next few days I’ll have a lot of riding to do to make up for it, whatever that means.

Here’s a quick clip from our dive in Cozumel a couple of weeks ago. I’ve got five more clips to put here after this ray, which you can see up close. The trick is to be behind the group you’re diving with, watching which way the critter is going and take a good angle to arrive at the same place.

In our next video we’ll see a flounder! It’ll be great!

It is time to return to 2005 and the Re-Listening project. You’ll recall that I’ve been listening to all of my old CDs in the order of their acquisition. You get to read all about it, because I’m padding the site with some music and, usually, stir up a memory or two. Though there are no strong memories attached to these records, which were library pickups for me.

The first one was the BoDeans debut “Love & Hope & Sex & Dreams,” which T-Bone Burnett produced. It was simple and big, the start of something big for the roots rockers from Wisconsin. Most of us learned about them from the later “Closer to Free” or “Good Things,” but this is where it started. And if you put this on, in 1986, it would have been a stylistic revelation.

The third track has always been one of my favorites. The interplay between Kurt Neumann and Sam Llanas works so well. And it’d do so for a long time, until suddenly it didn’t.

One more quick one.

OK, one more and, remember, this is 1986.

And the good news is, there’s a sweaty bottle out there with your name on it. The BoDeans are touring the U.S. right now.

The next addition was also a library grab — probably I got it on the same day. It was Sister Hazel’s fifth album, “Lift,” from 2004. Consistent sound from the band, though I think I’d generally had my fill by then. I found a few tracks on here I liked, but mostly I was pleased it was a library find.

It’s like a small, smoky venue of nuevo Florida Keys, as heard in Gainseville, for the rest of us. There’s nothing at all wrong with that, if it is for you.

But for their terrific earlier success, they could be the best cover band in America.

And Sister Hazel is on tour right now, as well. And the next time I make you sit through my old music, we’ll be playing a few standards and classics.

adventures / cycling / Monday / photo / swimming — Comments Off
1
Jul 24

Now my jaw hurts, or my ear, could be my face, also my lungs

It’s possible that, while I have felt largely fine — tired, stuffy, but fine — that I’ve been a bit farther beneath the weather than I realized. It’s possible that I’m falling apart as I write this. So, you know, standard issue cold. I’ll be fine tomorrow, or Thursday, or two Tuesdays from now. I’m only 10 days into feeling mostly OK and kinda unwell, after all. These things take time.

I don’t want to overstate it. It hasn’t been bad. The biggest thing is that I’ve done less the last few days than I should have. That’s pretty much it. Even still …

Sunday afternoon I got in a 1,650 yard swim, my longest since last September.

I even swam it at a reasonable pace, a mile in 40 minutes. I’ve just looked at two different charts on the world wide web, which is authoritative in every way, and they have each convinced me that this time is somewhere between novice and intermediate. I need to swim more.

Just as soon as my shoulders are rested.

That swim was probably fast because I had somewhere to be. Swim scared, swim with an appointment coming up fast, I say. It was a do-the-laps-run-through-the-shower sort of exercise. I had to get to the airport. I had to drive through this.

And then it was hurry up and wait. And wait. And wait. There’s a sign in the cell phone lot that says the maximum time allowed is 30 minutes, but I encourage the airport to take that up with the airline and mother nature. (They also have two vending machines full of drinks in the cell phone lot, which seems at odds with the parking limits.)

I stayed there for three hours. But the views, man!

My lovely bride wasn’t that far away. A few fences and rules about running around on the airport tarmac were all that kept us apart. And also the weather.

Ahe landed early, 5:45. She got off the plane at 9 p.m. And so I spent three-plus hours in the cell phone lot. This gave me plenty of time to go through the contents of my car — six pairs of sunglasses, four masks, two full-sized umbrellas, a giant fist full of napkins, four grocery store bags, a lint roller … and so on. Allowing me to bring a little more order that paired nicely with Saturday’s chore of vacuuming the trunk, which was a big effort, and probably a clue, in retrospect, of how the ol’ body is feeling. Anyway, Approaching 9:30 I finally got her in the car. And if the worst thing that happens when a loved one is flying almost a quarter of the way across the country and through bad weather is that you miss dinner, you take it.

Just think of how much I could have swam if I knew I had all of that extra time …

Today, we visited a local farm and picked up some vegetables. You get a custom box of fresh, locally grown produce every week. On the side, they’re selling corn for a dollar an ear.

If you ride around here enough a few ears of corn will just fall into your window. Save your dollars.

Our friend Stacey came over for a bike ride. It was a nice easy ride. We pedaled by the bike shop, where the local runners were getting ready to run. We went through town and back into the country side.

And then we found ourselves on a road with one small hill. Rather than grind it out, I wanted to get over the thing. Stacey interpreted this as an attack, it was not an attack, but so suddenly we were in an uphill sprint.

She is fast. It hurt. Breathing was a little bit harder after that. I spent the next several miles trying to recover from it. I think I am still trying to recover from it. See above.

We haven’t check in on the kitties in a few weeks. The cats know. And they are letting me know. You’ve all been missing out on the site’s most popular weekly feature, and for that I apologize.

Phoebe has moved to her summer afternoon napping tree. It’s a popular spot for the midday sun.

Recently, she re-discovered a basket she doesn’t get to enjoy all that often. It usually holds another basket, but now it’s a Phoebe spot.

Poseidon, meanwhile, is happily hanging out on the fridge. In between cabinet meetings, as you can see. He often spends dinner time — the cat’s me time, I’ve decided — in that cabinet behind him there. He’s ridiculous.

And there is, of course, always time for the tunnel. This may be his favorite spot, not counting someone’s lap, or being featured online.

So the cats, as you can see, are doing just fine. And they hope you’re off to a great start to your week, as well.

cycling / errands / Friday / photo — Comments Off
28
Jun 24

The quiet parts are always the best parts

As a friend of ours says, I have been underneath the weather. Sinuses. Allergies. Head cold. Some combination therein. All three. Who knows. I think I might have been running a slight fever at times yesterday. I didn’t feel quite as bad today.

I had an early lunch, mid-day cuddles with kitties, read a bit. it was relaxing.

This afternoon the tree people came by to chip up the brush from last weekend’s storms. They were fast, efficient. It’s a time-is-money business, one supposes. And it was just the first step in a process that will later break my heart. I’m dreading all of it.

Later I visited a store, a mom-and-pop shop. I’ve been in four times in the last year. The first three times I met the wife, who is very kind and struggles with the technology. Today I walked in and … no one was there. I walked to the back office. No one. I walked back up to the checkout counter to make sure no one was in a heap. No one.

The door was unlocked. No signs of struggle, other than the open sign sitting on the floor. I stood there for a minute or two, long enough to pull out my phone to see the time, and wonder how long I should stand there before beginning to call people.

I saw a camera just above the cash register, and if it is real, there are probably others, so there’s that.

And then the restroom door sloooowly cracked open and a man walked out.

“It’s always a risk, picking a time to go to the bathroom.”

He needs a BRB sign, and a door lock. I have, after all, been told by Republicans that the country has gone to hell. Over and over.

Anyway, he seemed like a nice fellow. We conducted our brief business and I left for my next stop. I hit up a Walmart. I don’t go to Walmart that often, or any great big store, really — nice, medium-sized grocery store is my biggest shopping experience these days. So this isn’t snobby. Probably it is my routine. Simon Pegg should set his zombie sequel at Walmart. Any Walmart. Maybe the most charming and disconcerting thing about the store is that customers are exactly the same, everywhere in the country. They are out and about, living the lives Springsteen sings about.

“Born to stand in the crosswalk, as a family, staring up into the sky as if looking for an eclipse for 45 seconds” is a great song. Everyone thinks of the classic, “Dancing at the end caps.” And, of course, “Sad eyes can’t see that I’m in the way of everyone” is an underrated deep cut.

And then I visited the medium-sized grocery store. Aisle one for granola … they’ve apparently stopped carrying one variety I prefer. Aisle two for raisins. The produce section for strawberries. In, out and on to the car wash. Ahhh, the finer points of life.

When I got home I set out for a bike ride. It’s been two weeks — our recent trip, the weather, the aftermath, being underneath the weather — and I have lately realized that if I don’t go, I can’t ride.

And maybe, I rationalized, this will help my nose and cough.

I set out around 6 p.m., by which time everyone has gotten to where they need to be and all of these country roads are free of traffic and it is quiet. There’s just the breeze, a perpetual headwind, the humming of the wheels, and the creaking parts of my rusty old bike. I love that feeling, those minimal sounds. Well, maybe not the creaking my bike makes.

Even the cows were quietly appreciating the silence.

This was the big traffic jam, and not the biggest tractor I saw.

Not too long after that, I had a flat. Rear tire, and there was no inflating the dead tube to limp home. So there I stood, swapping out Contis, pumping, and failing at pumping, until I was finally able to get a little air in the new tube. I need to add a mini-pump to the things I need to buy. Mine is almost 12 years old, I guess, and it’s served it’s purpose. Hand pumps fit in the pocket. They are small; they are light. Most won’t fully inflate a new tube. What you get is enough air to ride carefully home. And a good bicep workout. This one has become a frustration. It seems now I have to hold it just so to get any air into the tube at all. Just another thing on the list of old and worn out things I need to replace. It’s a list that’s now far too long.

The scene of the re-inflation … sort of.

So now I’m shopping for a pump. If anyone has any recommendations, or wants to buy one for me, the key features are they must fit in a jersey pocket, and it shouldn’t make me want to quit riding bikes when I have to use the thing.

Anyway, have a great weekend! Riding and swimming and cleaning around here. Back to normal next week.