Friday


29
May 20

Brief notes about a now regular route

At the end of the workday, at the end of the workweek, it was time for a bike ride. And, on Fridays, we ride a bit longer. This involves leaving the usual route through the adjoining neighborhoods and then turning left, instead of going straight.

Going left meant different rollers, and two or three cycles through the same red light, cars parked in the bike lane and a small handful of other indignities to a good ride in the first four miles. After that, though, it moved along nicely.

The next 45 minutes were all on the same road, so you settle in and duck the wind and try your best. We’ve done this route the last three weeks in a row and if you do such a thing often enough you begin to have an understanding of what you can do over such roads. Sometimes you do your best, which is great! And sometimes your legs and your mind and your bicycle have formed an unconscious understanding of what your best can be and you do even better, which is great! And sometimes it just isn’t in you and you underperform. Which is, you know, just great.

Anyway, you do your best until you pass through two little communities and over the county line where you can enjoy a short and steep downhill. After that you turn left and run along a causeway over a lake for three miles or so. And it was somewhere in there that I set a New Personal Best Top Speed of 49.1 miles per hour.

And, boy, are my jokes tired.

Right after that, the road goes up and away from the lake and there’s one stiff hill you have to get over. Eventually, you take a few turns and you’re back on that first long road and headed back toward where you started. It let me breakaway from The Yankee for about 20 miles before she caught me in traffic.

And soon, at around mile 30, we caught up to these nice people:

I’ve read about people on bike tours using pool noodles. And now I have seen a family do it. That one guy is hauling two kids on a pull-along, and they all count as cyclists. After we did a big circle we saw them again from the other direction. They waved and said hello and we waved and said hello and I hope they were having a fine a time on their bikes as we were having.

Got to the house at precisely the right time:

And began to think I should start adding some serious miles back into my routine. Some how. Some when.


22
May 20

Got bread? I know how you can make others jealous

Well, we made it to the weekend. Treat yo’self for that.

It’s warm here now, and that’s nice. We’re in the 70s, and just 48 hours after jackets were required. So summertime acclimation has hardly begun. For now, it’s nice and it’s Friday and that’s more than enough.

We had a nice 32-mile ride around one of the lakes today. I only dropped my fuel and then my sunglasses. And then I got dropped on the back third of the route. The Yankee was cooking today.

You know who else was cooking was this guy, George Rabich, celebrated baker of Allentown, Pennsylvania.

We were doing a little casual genealogy research this evening and I ran across that New Year’s ad. It seems an odd bit of clip art, but, really, how many different pieces of New Years lead would a 1916 newspaper keep in their typesetting cabinets?

We followed along, and apparently 1916 was a good year for the baker. He’s in the local paper quite a bit. You could get some luxury bread in early May of that year. And needles! Needles were still like a currency in Allentown that spring, I guess.

Probably there’s a good reason. Hemming clothes or something, I’m sure.

Later in May, and it hasn’t yet occurred to anyone to specify that the needles were not in the bread.

The needles are not in the bread, people! You may eat and break and dip our bread without concern for your gums! The needles will be in a package on the side. We keep them entirely separate of the luxury bread here in the bakery.

Now, the blue collar bread? Needles for days.

By June, and no, I did not actually see this coming, they’ve realized the problem. Our bakery is one of the cleanest in town! Guaranteed! Healthful! Unless you’re the one guy in Allentown with a gluten problem, then you should probably stay away.

But everyone else! Clean! Healthful! Ask our customers! They’ll tell you Rabich bread is some of the cleanest bread in town. And they give you needles!

All of those were 1916, and before there were needles, there were prizes for kids!

Bring in your wrappers and get a bike, or a jump rope. Be the envy of all.

I bet all the neighborhood kids are sizing each other up over jump robes and strider bikes. He’s got that and bread? Maaaaa!


15
May 20

How fast am I?

We went for a bike ride to bring in the weekend. We decided to go out 50 minutes and then turn around and come back. I went 55 minutes, because sometimes you need an extra 10 minutes. I’m looking, now, at the mile splits on the tracking app. Each number represents the maximum touched within that mile. Let’s check them out.

27.2
66.8
27.3
28.7
25.7
30.9
103.3
24.4
21.9
25.6
28.9
25.5
26.2
26.9
32.0
31.6
49.9
19.9
27.0
25.6
36.9
26.4
30.7
78.1
26.9
104.4
27.2
35.3
22.3

There are no typos there, but which do you think are wrong? Some of them are wrong. I was pounding on the pedals and stretching the chain and really working through the hills and trying to remember to breathe and, otherwise, having a good ride. Still, nothing like some of those speeds. So I assume there’s a GPS-out-in-the-country issue, or a dropped-signal issue or a this-app-isn’t-very-good issue.

Anyway, on mile 17, when I wasn’t doing 49.9 miles per hour, I cruised past this place. Couldn’t tell you the last time I saw a kokopelli.

Surely there’s something about putting two of them together that is a bad idea. It was a god of fertility, a god of agriculture. Oh, and also a trickster. If there’s a place where you don’t want a trickster god, it would be in your crops, or your abode.

Elsewhere, work stuff. There was a meeting and I wrote 1,900 words about demo reels and so on.

Most important news of the day …

And, to the weekend!

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8
May 20

To the week … end? To the weekend!

Isn’t this a lovely little Iris from our late afternoon walk? I took several different shots trying to find the perfect angle. The lengths I go to for you, gentle reader.

Fine day for a walk, which is about all that can be said. Days and nights seem like the only distinguishing features right now, and that because of the visual cues. Psychologists, I have read, would suggest this is because the days don’t have the normal distinguishing features. Makes sense. If you don’t have a sport practice or a musical rehearsal to get to, if your weekly book club is canceled, all of the days seem like … Tuesdays, or whatever they seem like to you.

But, then, that’s just your programming. How did that work before the before times? Before all of the serious structure that we’ve anchored everyone too? I suppose they were a different sort of drudgery, more back breaking, and without conditioned air and ice cubes, without an entire universe of streaming distractions.

See? Not so bad, not knowing what day it is, when you think about in those terms.

Tom Duszynski from the Fairbanks School of Public Health at IUPUI in Indianapolis talked with me about where we are with the stay-at-home plans and what could happen next. He’s one of those actual experts you should listen to, so listen to him.

I’m also sending some of his soundbites out to local television stations. Maybe one or two of them will pick up quote or two. Wouldn’t that be a nice way to celebrate the weekend? That is what happens next, right?

More on Twitter, check me out on Instagram and listen to a few On Topic with IU podcasts as well.


1
May 20

It’s gonna be …

Time for a bike ride, and since we went in the late afternoon and we headed generally north and east that means it’s time for a shadooooooow sellllllfie …

It was also the day for me to go the wrong way because I got the roads confused and The Yankee had to chase me down which was no easy feat today because I had good legs and yet she managed to eventually do it anyway because I looked over my shoulder and saw the look on her face and then sat up and, yes, run-on sentences do happen a lot in cycling. It has something to do with the breathing, I think.

So we turned around and went the right direction, determined to not speak of this again. It only added on one extra mile, so she didn’t have to chase me far, because she is a strong rider, but my legs held up throughout the day. This is what’s important, look at that water:

There were people fishing on the causeway as we went through. Everyone is ready to enjoy some nice weather, which we’ve only had it intermittently here. That’s a crime against humanity, I’m pretty sure.

Anyway, that’s just after the big downhill, which one app tracked me at 134.4 miles per hour. I was not going 134.4 miles per hour. That’d be very fast, indeed, and I think the app is wrong in a lot of ways, begging the question: Why?

So you go down the descent then you take a hard left and you find yourself on a road that you can somehow hit 25-27 miles per hour without even pedaling. Then there’s the water and that’s when she caught me:

And then the climb out. This is where our barn by bike feature of the day comes in, and, yes, that is an uphill and not a camera tilt trick:

Is there a video? There is a video. On this particular route the video is from the last smooth, easy part before the hard part, and before the water.

It would be tempting to rush through here and attack the long series of rollers that turn into an uphill before the long downhill and the next eventual climb. It’d be fun to turn this into a bunch of big sweeping sines, as Bill Strickland called them:

I was riding in long, gradual curves that stretched nearly from the right shoulder of the road out to and sometimes past the yellow line on the left, then back and out and again the same.

[…]

The sine curve to me is more of an undulation, an expression of the natural beauty of movement, and the beauty of natural movement: a lover’s body in moments of passion beyond thought, for instance.

Or a bicycle rider in one of those rare interludes when the pure sheer pleasure of being a bicycle rider can be expressed only through an extended series of line-to-line swoops. The road sine is one of the most spontaneous and unsophisticated acts of cycling, and it begins and occurs and continues in some kind of complete state of unexamined and unself-conscious motion.

Bill Strickland is a brilliant writer and I love that description. I do it all the time on the bike. I always think of that passage when I do.

But never right here; never at the fence.

Somehow, I always find myself doing that other ultimate sign of freedom. I get to just the right spot on that road, just ahead of us here, and let it go and coast. I’ll float almost as far as momentum and enthusiasm will take me. And then start working my way uphill.

Talked with Tom Duszynski again, because the world needs to hear from epidemiologists and I’m part of the world and I want to give learned and thoughtful people a place to speak to people who want to hear real things and not bombast.

Wash your hands. And if you’re out on a bike or out on a trail or just in the backyard, have a great weekend.