Texas Bike Builder Gets Big-Time Publicity

Bicycling Magazine runs an annual "Best of..." feature in its print edition where the editors pick their favorite bikes in various categories (e.g. Best Commuter Bike, Best Trail Bike, Best Racing Bike, etc.). This year their choice for the "Best Dream Road Bike" (the criteria for which is nebulous but apparently requires that the bike carry a wider-than-usual tag on which the price is written, IYKWIM) is the Crumpton SL Road, a hand-built carbon fiber-framed machine crafted by Nick Crumpton in Austin, Texas.

This jewel of a bike weighs just over 15 pounds and there's one with your name on it – or at least containing your detailed specifications – if you have the patience (one guy can turn out only so many bikes each year) and almost $9,000*.

You'll also have to provide some very specific information about your body, including the length of your femur and the distance from the middle of your sternum to your crotch. Crumpton provides a quite jocular skeleton on its order form to help you figure out your anatomy, if you're challenged in that regard.

If you have the patience and the money, you'll be rewarded with a bike that rides as smoothly as a "wait-list-only cabernet," whatever that means. And, you'll likely be the only person on the block to have one.

*Before you gasp too strongly at the price, consider that the runner-up in this category is the Parlee Z1 which lists for $12,800, and the third place bike, the Seven V-II goes for $10,900, making the Crumpton a relative bargain.

Bicyling & Highway 191: A Deadly Combination

My happiness at hearing the sound of raindrops hitting our bedroom window – the first such occurrence since we moved in February, the Easter downpour not counting because we were out of town – was short-lived as I unwrapped the newspaper and found this story on the front page. The report of yet another bicyclist being struck and killed by an inattentive motorist on the service road of Highway 191 is all too familiar.

The 191 service roads between Midland and Odessa have long favorite routes of cyclists. These roads should be the safest imaginable, and yet a cyclist is killed every few years by distracted drivers.

The first such fatality, as far as I know, was in the mid-80s when our former high school classmate, George Hoffman, was struck on a Sunday afternoon ride just east of the intersection of 191 and 158. The main lanes of 191 hadn't yet been built at that time and all the traffic was routed down what are now the service roads, which made for an inherently dangerous situation.

But, even after 191 was completed and the service roads became much less traveled, drivers continue to plow over cyclists with sad regularity. I can recall at least three such fatalities since the completion of 191.

It's puzzling, because it's not as though drivers will come unexpectedly upon cyclists after topping a hill or rounding a curve. There aren't any of those; the sight lines are literally miles long, making a car/bicyclist collision completely avoidable.

I've logged more than 10,000 miles back and forth along 191 over the years, and have had a few close calls, but none that actually scared me. Some were due to intentionally hostile drivers (who knows why the presence of a cyclist on a multi-laned road engenders such fury from some motorists?). I actually prefer those encounters, because even in their irrational irritation, such drivers are unlikely to run me down. The drivers who just aren't paying attention are the truly dangerous ones, and despite the recurrence of tragedies like yesterday's, people continue to fall into the trap of thinking it can't happen to them.

Now that we've moved, I will rarely be riding along 191. My new routes are along narrower streets with more limited sight lines and the potential for heavier traffic. Theoretically, I'm in more danger than before, but given the history of 191, I'm not convinced that that's true.

Easter Hill Country Tour 2008

MLB and I returned Sunday from our annual pilgrimage to Fredericksburg, where we participated in the 35th edition of the Easter Hill Country [Bicycle] Tour. We haven't been cycling for 35 years – although it sometimes feels as if we have – but we've missed only about a dozen of those events.

This year's EHCT was sponsored by the Fort Worth Bicycling Association (pronounced "Foat Wuth" for the benefit of my dear non-Texican readers), and the ride was well organized, with one glaring exception that I'll address below. Unfortunately for MLB and me, we had managed to ride a total of 23 miles this year leading up to the event, not exactly a desirable training base for bicycling in what is arguably one of the toughest regions in the state. But we exercised uncommon (for us) good sense, picked some shorter (although not necessarily easier) routes, and managed to survive another year.

Here are some observations from our visit to the Hill Country:

• It's not all about the wildflowers - With Easter coming so early, coupled with the lack of rainfall, we weren't surprised that there were no wildflowers to be viewed anywhere we rode or drove. However, that didn't seem to affect the size of the mob that invaded Fredericksburg for the long weekend. The sidewalks were just as packed as ever. This was probably due to the fact that many schools were out for spring break, although F'burg is not the greatest destination for kids.


• Wildflowers are on their way - If you have your heart set on a wildflower tour, don't despair. Within a couple of weeks, you should start seeing a great crop, as we saw the first bluebonnets popping out on the Sunday drive home. Check this website for flower sighting reports and maps of good viewing areas.


• One is not enough - As I mentioned earlier, the FWBA did a good job of organizing the tour, but dropped the ball badly in one important area. At the first rest stop of the first day's ride, there was only one Port-A-Potty. That's a serious logistical oversight, especially considering that all of the day's routes included that rest stop, and that most of the hundreds of riders were by that point dealing with a serious need to offload the morning's pre-ride coffee.


• Bambi gets revenge - We were able to return to our favorite B&B which is located a couple of miles outside of F'burg, out in the woods. Our friends, Tommy and Toni, flew in for the weekend, staying at the Hangar Hotel where they could park the plane less than 100 yards from their room. Tommy brought his new night vision binoculars and we tried them out on Friday. Here's a tip. If you have an active imagination, and if you've watched The Blair Witch Project and found it terrifying, then it's probably not the best idea to peer through night vision goggles into thick woods just beyond your little house in the country, and see gleaming eyes of...something...peering back at you, right before bedtime. Just sayin'.


• It's the gearing, not the engine - Even though we picked shorter routes to ride (43 miles on Friday, 25 on Saturday), owing to the aforementioned lacking of training, we found that shorter doesn't always mean easier. Friday's challenge was weather: temps in the 50s and 20mph+ winds (headwind coming back, of course). Saturday's ride included a hill we'd never ridden before, and felt fortunate to survive. There's a ride that leaves from Kerrville, heading toward Ingram, that includes a stretch of Bear Creek Road (there's a Bear Creek Road outside of F'burg also). We've ridden that road many times, and it's a pretty route. This year, though, we were instructed to turn onto a road called Freedom Trail or Trail of Tears or Bataan Death March Redux or something similar. The first half mile or so is uphill...waaaaaay uphill. My wife's GPS gently informed us at one point that we were pedaling up a 16% incline. For comparison purposes, if you've ever driven up to McDonald's Observatory outside Fort Davis, you'll no doubt recall that you feel like you're going vertical; most cyclists will swear that that's the toughest road to climb in the great state of Texas. That incline is, in fact, 17%. But, I'm proud to say that we made the climb, albeit at a snail's pace, thanks to our granny gear and a desperately illogical passion to avoid joining the overwhelming majority of our fellow cyclists who had succumbed to pedestrianism.


• Jason knows pickles - By the way, if you ever find yourself just on the edge of muscle cramps, due to, say, riding a hill you had no business tackling, and you come to a sag stop and the volunteers are handing out 8 oz bottles of something sickly green and called "Pickle Juice Sport," take the advice written on said bottle and just drink it. You might be amazed at the difference it will make.

That's my report, and I apologize for the lack of photos. We had two cameras, and in four days we took exactly one picture (and that was of the line in front of the lone port-a-john at the rest stop). After riding a few thousand miles through the Hill Country over the years, the scenery is still as beautiful as ever but the absence of flowers makes it less photogenic.

Oh, one last thing. A mile or two out of Fredericksburg, on FM 2093, there's a new but somewhat nondescript warehouse-looking building with a sign referring to "muscle cars." You might be tempted to pass it by, thinking it's a parts store or perhaps a mechanic's shop. But you need to stop and go inside, and be amazed.

Forget walking on sunshine; I want to run on air

My wife showed me a column in the current issue of Runner's World wherein the writer described his experience with the G-Trainer, a treadmill developed by Alter-G that uses air pressure to simulate running in a low gravity environment.

Now, aside from the fact that the device looks as though you're running inside a hovercraft (as MLB so aptly described it), this is something I and my aging knees can get behind (or in, or on, or however you and the machine get along). You can reduce your effective weight by up to 80%, and run at speeds up to 18 mph (faster than a 3.5 minute mile). Heck, you can even run backwards at 10 mph – and who hasn't wanted to do that at one time or another?

The downside, other than needing a workout room the size of a garage, is that it costs $75,000. This makes it exclusive enough that Alter-G's website has a list of the individuals and organizations that own one, including former world record marathoner Alberto Salazar, the prestigious Cooper Clinic in Dallas, and the Houston Texans and Rockets (although I just can't picture Yao Ming fitting inside the G-Trainer skirt).

I have no doubt that trying to move your legs at an 18 mph clip provides a good aerobic workout without stressing the joints too much (the heart? well, that's a different story). On the other hand, running is supposed to be good for maintaining bone density, because it's a weight-bearing activity. Alter-G workouts would negate some of that advantage.

The other thing I'd worry about, being the worrier that I am, is that I'd have the thing pumped up to maximum pressure, somehow lose contact with the skirt, and find myself suspended from the ceiling with my head stuck through the drywall.

One organization which is surprisingly missing from Alter-G's owner list is NASA. I guess the device is just too science-fictiony for them.

Technorati tags: G-Trainer Low Gravity Treadmill | Alter-G

Recumbent Blogging

Update: Link to Recumbent Blog fixed. You guys are soooo picky.

No, I'm not referring to the practice of posting while reclining on the couch, although, now that I think about it, that's not a bad thing to contemplate.

Very few of mankind's inventions have evolved with such profuse diversity as the bicycle, and for some of us, the pinnacle of that evolution is the recumbent bike. Over the years, I've extolled the virtues (and, yes, the challenges) of recumbency, in these pages, and I continue to get questions from the curious, the skeptical (but, mainly, the older*) about the curious contraptions that allow one to move forward while apparently relaxing (appearances are deceiving).

If you are curious or skeptical, regardless of age, about this incarnation of the pedaling arts, I recommend regular visits to The Recumbent Blog, which is single-minded in its focus and absolutely striking in its design. The photography is beautiful, and the advocacy is firm but reasonable. Even if you aren't in the market for a 'bent, if you love bikes, this is a great destination for recreational browsing.

*There's a pretty good argument to be made that people are more likely to give up bicycling as they age because the traditional cycling posture is simply too uncomfortable.

The Joys of Recumbancy

Despite its evocation of a junior high health class movie from the 60s, if I had to pick a short video to introduce you to the pleasures of recumbent bicycling, this would be it:

This 20-year-old movie was produced by Dick Ryan, who is often referred to as "the father of modern recumbent cycling." Ryan has designed and built some classic bikes, and his designs still set the standard for safety and comfort. The tandem that my wife and I ride was built by Dick; only 250 of them were built (and only 1,200 of his single rider recumbent, the Vanguard). A few years after our bike was made, he sold his designs and retired, but I've heard unconfirmed rumors that he's back in the business.

As a pioneer in this segment of the cycling industry, he has some fascinating insights on why recumbent cycling hasn't "gone mainstream." The following is from a 2003 interview:

Midland has a pretty sizable recumbent population, and our local bike shop sells 'bents. I've never detected an "anti-recumbent" sentiment from its staff, but I'm sure that in larger markets where competitive cycling is stronger, Dick's observations are spot on.

Google Maps-Based Pedometer

I'm constantly amazed at the cool things Mis_nomer runs across and shares over at Pencil Shavings, and her discovery of Gmaps Pedometer is not only cool, but very timely.

Gmaps Pedometer is another Web 2.0 variation using the Google Maps API, and it's brilliant in its simplicity and addictive in its usefulness. If you're a runner, cyclist, or walker, it's a good tool for laying out a route and measuring its distance.

Using the Pedometer is simple, especially if you're accustomed to the standard Google Maps interface. Just locate your starting point and click the Start Recording button. Double-click on the map to add your starting point, then double-click along the route to extend it. You can adjust the zoom setting at any point, or click-and-drag to reposition the map without affecting the points or the route. Once you've finished, you can save your route. The Pedometer will automatically mark each mile point on your route (unless you toggle that option off), and it keeps track of cumulative mileage for your route. If you the Calorie Counter On button and enter your weight in the resulting input field, the Pedometer will also computer calories burned (presumably for walking or running; it doesn't allow you to specify another type of locomotion).

If you make a mistake on setting a point, there's an Undo button.

One caveat: the "Complete there and back route" option should be exercised only at the turnaround point of an actual out-and-back route, because clicking that link causes the Pedometer to assume that the point at which the click is made is the halfway mark, and it doubles the mileage at that point. That's not a big deal – except you cannot undo this particular action. I learned this the hard way after spending fifteen minutes laying out a precise route, and clicking the "complete" link thinking it would compute the mileage back to the starting point using the same route that going the other direction (I'm not explaining this very well, am I?), and finding that it doesn't work that way at all.

A variation on this application is Sanoodi, which is almost identical to Gmaps Pedometer except that it requires only one click to set a point, and it attempts to compute elevation changes along your route. I suspect the latter is of dubious accuracy, but we don't have a lot of relief in our landscape out here to measure it against. The neat thing about Sanoodi is that it allows you to describe your route, categorize it, and then store it in a personal account. You can also share those routes with others, and add Flickr tags if you provide photos taken along the route. It's just a little more community-oriented than Pedometer.

I mentioned at the beginning that this discovery was timely. We recently replaced both tires on our tandem, and the new tires are slightly different sizes than the ones they replaced. This necessitated a recalibration of our cycling computers, as the distance and speed measurements are tied to tire circumference. And, since the front and rear tires are different diameters, I couldn't measure just one and use the setting for both.

As you might guess, even though I thought I did a precise job in doing a roll-out measurement of each tire, after our first ride with the recalibrated computers the mileage on my unit was different than that on my wife's, and by a fairly significant amount. Just as the man with two watches never knows what time it is, so it is with two bike computers giving different readings. We weren't sure which reading was accurate. After entering our route into Sanoodi, we have a baseline that I can use to re-adjust both computers.

All the accountants in our family can now sleep a little better, having overcome this significant obstacle to our cycling happiness.

Technorati tags: Gmaps Pedometer | Sanoodi | OCD Cyclists

Ignorance is This

The plan was simple: hit the road around 6:45 a.m., return around 8:15, have a leisurely breakfast, coffee, and newspaper, and then figure out what to do with the remainder of our Saturday.

Since the friends we usually meet for Saturday breakfast are out of the country, we decided to upend our schedule and try something different. Last night, I lowered the tandem from its ceiling nest, aired up the tires to the preferred operating pressure, and moved the bike to the front of the garage for a quick exit the next morning.

We arose on time this morning, got dressed, shot the dog, and I went into the garage to wheel the bike out for an on-time departure. Everything had clicked into place; all systems were go. Only someone forgot to tell me that a flat rear tire was on the schedule.

It's always the rear tire, by the way. It's far too easy to fix a flat on the front.

This is where it got interesting. I figured I'd just pop the wheel off the bike, peel the offending tube off the rim and replace it with a new one. Disconnecting the rear drum brake cable was less straightforward than I'd hoped, thanks to partially stripped threads on the bolt, but the more serious problem was revealed when I unrolled the new tube and started stuffing it under the tire casing – and finding that I had a good two inches of tube left unstuffed after working my way all the way around the rim.

One of the arcane mysteries of bicycling that I've never mastered in all my years and miles of riding is the rationale behind the fact that a 26" x 1.25" tube (or tire) is not always equal to another 26" x 1.25" tube (or tire). Apparently, there are alternate universes where bicycle tubes are made, and those measurements will vary, and the inevitable result is that at 7:00 a.m. on an otherwise fine Saturday in June, I'll find myself dressed in cycling garb, holding a tube that too freaking big for my wheel, and not having an alternative course of action.

(Did I mention that the flat was due to a gash at the base of the valve stem, a condition that cannot be repaired? I offer this detail in case you were wondering why I didn't just patch the silly thing.)

To shorten this sad saga, the bike shop opened at 8:00, so we had our breakfast, coffee, and newspaper first, then I took the old and busted tube in and asked the sleepy-looking young man to give me two new ones just like it (only without the gash in the valve stem, which I'd provide myself at some later date), thereby completely avoiding demonstrating my utter inability to grasp the intricacies of wheel sizing.

Back home, I replace the tube, remounted the wheel, and we were on the road before 9:00. The overall schedule still worked out; we just dealt with a different sequence of events.

As fascinating as I know this is for you to contemplate, here's the silver lining. First, we'd ridden the tandem for six months carrying a spare tube that wouldn't have worked had we experienced a flat while on the road – which we didn't. The flat occurred in the safety of our garage.

Second, while scrounging around for an alternative, including a desperate check of my single bike to see if its tube would fit (completely forgetting for a moment that that bike uses presta valves while our tandem is strictly a schraeder valve aficionado) I discovered that I wasn't actually carrying a spare tube on my bike, even though I thought I was. There again, I'd pedaled for months blissfully unaware that I was lacking a basic piece of backup gear – and gotten away with it.

Sometimes, I wonder if our guardian angel ever lobbies God for overtime pay.

Gnat Rider

One of the unfortunate side effects of the otherwise beneficially copious rainfall we've received this year is the proliferation of teensy bugs (a scientific term). We're just now beginning to experience the joys of swatting mosquitoes, but just as annoying was what I encountered during this morning's bike ride.

Riding through clouds of swarming gnats was almost enough to make me wish that the usually ubiquitous west Texas wind hadn't taken the day off. I have a windshield on my Easy Racer, but there were times when I had to put one hand over my mouth and nose (which probably made me appear even weirder than usual to passing drivers) to keep from ingesting more than my minimum recommended daily allotment of insects (which, for the record, is so small as to be indistinguishable from zero).

At the risk of sharing TMI, I'll also tell you that the post-ride cleanup was also a bit tedious, requiring the removal and disposal of gnat carcasses from clothing, arm and leg hair, beard stubble, and even my scalp (I never thought I'd miss the minimally vented bike helmets from the 80s -- remember the Kiwi?).

At least they don't bite (except euphemistically), unlike some of the critters we often encounter on our rides.

Easter Hill Country Tour 2007

For the past 20+ years, we've spent Easter weekend in the Fredericksburg/Kerrville area of the Texas Hill Country, participating in the aptly named Easter Hill Country Tour, a bicycling event jointly sponsored by the bike clubs of Fort Worth, Lubbock, San Antonio, and Houston. This year's event was the 34th annual tour, and will go down in history as one of the most interesting, thanks primarily to the wintry weather conditions.

Over the years, as we've, um, matured (read: grown wiser), this event has become less about the bicycling and more about enjoying our time together. In the beginning, we were avid (read: stupid) cyclists and rode a couple of centuries -- or, to the uninitiated, 100 mile rides completed in one day. I'm sure there are more difficult feats that the average non-athlete could attempt, but I'm not interested in confirming it.

Nowadays, if we ride 100 miles in three days we're quite pleased with ourselves, and we've found that we can eat just as much -- the real reason people cycle -- plus there's the added bonus of actually being able and willing to get back on the bike without waiting a month.

However, this year's trip holds the distinction of providing the lowest cycling/driving mileage ratio of any that we've taken: almost 800 miles of driving in order to ride 42.4 miles on a bike. More on that later.

Because I'm such a considerate and thoughtful host (read: OCD), I've organized this report into sections, and you can use the following links to skip to the one(s) you find potentially interesting. (I've not, however, provided a link to the bottom of the post so that you can skip the whole thing. Shame on you for even thinking that.)

Sections: The Riding | The Eating | The Bedding & Breakfasting | The Nature Gazing

The Riding

As with most EHCTs, the schedule for the three day weekend consisted of several routes on Friday leaving from Fredericksburg, several routes on Saturday (including the traditional century) leaving from Kerrville, and a couple of relatively short rides on Sunday morning to wrap things up.

We normally try to arrive on Wednesday afternoon in order to do a self-guided ride on Thursday, but MLB's work schedule didn't allow us to leave until Thursday after lunch. Thus we weren't able to get on the bike until Friday morning around 10:30, when we departed from the Fredericksburg courthouse and headed north out of town. Our route took us up Lower Crabapple Road, then to the west within glimpsing distance of the amazing Enchanted Rock, and finally back south into town on the Old Mason Highway until it met up with Highway 87. We could have stretched the route to almost 60 miles with various optional additions, but since our tandem training mileage this year totaled on 130 miles, and despite our realization that the weather forecast didn't bode well for the rest of the weekend, we decided that discretion was the better part of valor.

The ride was enjoyably challenging, hard enough to feel a sense of accomplishment without ever having to resort to on-bike crying (never a good sign). We rode all the hills (not everyone did, but being 70 years old is always a valid excuse in my book), and had some interesting conversations at the rest stops. Our recumbent tandem usually guarantees that we'll get to visit with a few people who are fascinated by the contraption.

We finished the ride feeling as though we could have gone further, but not regretting stopping when we did, particularly since the clouds were beginning to thicken, a precursor to the front that was about to hammer all of Texas.

Here are a few photos snapped by MLB from the back of the bike during the ride; click to view a full-sized uncropped version. From left to right: a view of Enchanted Rock on the steep downhill section of Welgehausen Road, just west of Hwy 965; bluebonnets along Welgehausen Road; more bluebonnets.

The Eating

"Eat to ride. Ride to Eat." That's the cyclist's mantra, and it works remarkably well, even when moderation is exercised on neither account.

Fredericksburg is home to some excellent restaurants, and even though our stay was shorter than usual, we made sure to patronize two of them. We ate dinner Friday night at the restaurant at the Fredericksburg Herb Farm, a cozy little eatery surrounded by all manner of flora, much of which makes it into the dishes the chef prepares.

We took a chance and walked in without reservations -- we tried to call ahead but our cell phones weren't playing well with the local service -- and waited while the hostess consulted with the chef to make sure we were worthy of the honor. I assume we looked sufficiently solvent, and so we were seated, and at one of the prime tables at that. Never underestimate the value of wearing a Fire Ant Gazette hoodie into the finest dining establishments. (Kidding. Really.)

MLB had a fine talapia cooked en papillote, prepared with "Mexican herbs" and served with green rice. Muy delicioso.

Not to be outdone, I had one of the off-menu specials, something you don't normally find in a sit-down restaurant with white linen tablecloths: cabrito. I'm here to tell you that if you ever have a chance to eat cabrito in that setting, don't pass it up. I didn't catch the waitress's explanation of the herbs used in the preparation, despite asking her to repeat it (there was something about "root beer flavor, but very mild"), but that was the best goat I've ever eaten, falling-off-the-bone tender and juicy in that way that only cabrito can be. Normally, Abbye would have benefited from a few carryout scraps, but she was out of luck that night. (I'd ask you not to tell her, but she sniffed my fingers as soon as we got home, and she knew. She's still not speaking to me.)

The only disappointment of the evening was dessert (and, really, that's major). We split a serving of Lemon Verbena Peach Cobbler (with homemade vanilla bean ice cream), and it wasn't up to the restaurant's usual standards. Of course, the last time we had their peach cobbler, it was in the middle of peach season so the fruit was fresh off the tree. Still, the crust was too doughy, and the lemon verbena was...weird. I don't recommend it (but if they have plain cobbler during the summer, go for it).

Pricing? Ooh, you don't want to know. We were pushing $100 and that was without wine.

Our dining destination Saturday night was our Plan B from Friday, in case we were turned away. Pasta Bella serves some of the best Italian food around, and it's a gem of a find right in the middle of this German community. There's nothing fancy here, just basic pasta dishes, and the usual parmigiana entrées. Again, we arrived without reservations, and we did have a short wait, but it was worth it. Normally on a Saturday night, you'd want to call ahead, but keep in mind that we were out in the middle of an ice storm, and that kept the crowd down a bit.

The food was typically good, tasty and filling, and much more reasonably priced than the night before. We were too full for dessert, and the total check was around $20.

Now, since we stayed in a bed-and-breakfast, you're probably wondering about our morning meals. I can sum them up in one word: awesome. I'll tell you more about the B&B a bit later, but I can tell you that the family that owns this one also owns another one on the other side of F'burg, managed by their son and daughter-in-law, and they both pride themselves on their excellent breakfasts. We've stayed in B&Bs where "breakfast" was a couple of cold muffins left on the kitchen table the night before, and whatever you could find in the mini-fridge.

This place, on the other hand, delivered a full hot breakfast each morning. Day one was an oven pancake, bacon (cleverly folded in a way to resemble flowers) and fresh fruit; day two was baked (!) eggs, sausage, made-from-scratch biscuits and fresh fruit in yogurt dressing; day three was a breakfast casserole (eggs, sausage, cheese, bread and mushrooms) and more fruit. We boxed up half the casserole and had it leftover when we returned to Midland -- the servings were not skimpy.

Earlier, I computed our driving-to-cycling mileage, because I'm a numbers guy, like it or not. However, I refuse to calculate (or even think about) our calories-consumed-to-cycling-mileage.

The Bedding and Breakfasting

Well, I've already covered the Breakfasting, but here's the skinny on the accommodations. The B&B is called Clear Springs Log Cabin, and it's owned and operated by Vernon and Bernice Fluitt (their son and his wife, Nelson and Sharon, manage another excellent B&B called the Country Quiet Guesthouse, which we also recommend highly). Clear Springs is located on a working ranch eight miles north of F'burg on Highway 16, and the main living area of the house was built in the 1850s. It served many years as a barn, but the Fluitts recently made it over into a B&B, adding a bedroom, bathroom, central heat and air, and other modern amenities.

The walls of the log cabin are at least twelve inches thick, highly reminiscent of adobe buildings found throughout west Texas. One section of the original log-and-mortar has been preserved behind glass (see image at right; click for a larger version), but the remainder of the walls have been re-mortared. We found the room to be pretty well insulated, but the HVAC system was also quite effective in dealing with any shortcomings in that area.

The bedroom is equipped with a very comfortable queen-sized bed. However, the room is lacking in storage space, especially for hanging clothes. The large antique wardrobe is more for show than function and will accommodate only three or four hangars.

The bathroom is very spacious, with a large jacuzzi tub (no shower, but the tub has a gooseneck spigot that's a fair compromise) and the only deer antler toilet paper holder I've ever seen. In fact, antlers were used everywhere in place of towel racks.

The kitchen is functional, but not luxurious, although the fridge appears new and works very well. There's no oven, but there is a stove, a microwave, and a countertop toaster/convection oven. We used only the fridge, microwave and coffeemaker. This was, after all, a vacation.

The weather wasn't exactly cooperative -- more about that below -- but the compound has several places that would be wonderful for al fresco coffee and snacks or book reading (a euphemism for napping, of course) in more temperate conditions.

I mentioned that this is a working ranch, and it's thus replete with the typical farm fauna: cattle, chickens, horses, geese -- and, of course, llamas. It's also got a couple of ponds, at least one of which is apparently stocked for fishing, if you care about such things.

It's also very, very quiet. Even though Highway 16 is a very busy road, the B&B is located more than a mile down an unpaved road (and over a couple of hills), and there are no neighbors within sight, other than the hosts' home (which is a couple hundred yards away). The log cabin has its own fenced yard, great for pets (although if you have a dog that doubles as an escape artist, you'll want to keep it leashed), and is imaginatively landscaped.

The Nature Gazing

The same vicious cold front that blasted much of the nation also dropped down into the Hill Country, with the worst weather blowing in early Saturday morning in the form of rain, sleet, and a bit of snow. Sunday morning's view of the woods surrounding the B&B was punctuated with breaking limbs falling under the weight of the ice, although most of what I saw were from the dead trees that polka-dot the landscape thanks to a recent onslaught of oak wilt throughout the Hill Country.

In the wee hours of Sunday morning, we were awakened by total silence combined with complete darkness. Funny how that works, isn't it? We never got an explanation of the power outage, but it lasted only a couple of hours, and it gave us an excuse to snuggle deeper under the blankets.

We discussed the outage with Vernon when he brought breakfast. He said that as soon as the power went off, he called the power company, and he and his wife started worrying about how it might impact us. Bernice was worried about how she'd fix our breakfast; Vernon wasn't worried about that as much as how we flush the toilet (the water system relies on electric pumps). I guess it's a guy thing, but that's also one of the first things that occurred to me at 3:00 a.m. when the power first went out.

Here are a few photos capturing the cold beauty of weather's aftereffects. Click on the thumbnails to view larger uncropped versions. Note the ice on the back of the reclining llama in the third photo. Think those guys aren't protected by their fur?

We had one final weather-related challenge, and that was driving through the ranch and back to the highway for the trip home. With our bike on top of the SUV we need about 12 feet of clearance, and the ice weighted the tree limbs lining the dirt road to the point where I was weaving like a drunken driver, trying to thread my way past the lowest branches while avoiding getting stuck in the bar ditch. Fortunately, I've had plenty of practice at this since That Thing Happened and we made a clean getaway.

Despite not getting in our usual quota of bicycling, this was a weekend to remember -- and almost all of the memories will be good ones. It's hard to ask for more than that.

My New Old Bike

Meet my new bike:

It's a 1989 Cannondale RM900, aka the Red Shred (the font used for the name looks very much like Mistral, by the way), an aluminum framed, non-suspension mountain bike sporting a mystifying white handlebar. This bike hasn't been ridden in five or six years, and wasn't ridden with any zest for several years before that. I've just rescued it from impending death by dry rot in our storage unit.

My plan is to turn it into a "city bike," a utilitarian vehicle to be used for running short errands or going places that aren't recumbent friendly. With 26"x2" slicks front and back, bar-ends, platform pedals, and a rear rack, it's a relatively comfortable way to travel.

N.B. - This should in no way imply that I'm contemplating a switch from recumbancy. In fact, after a few miles on the "new" bike, I was reminded of why I became 'bent in first place. While there's a lot to be said for the maneuverability of the conventional bicycle, the comfort issues are still paramount.

It's definitely showing its age, however. This won't mean anything to most of you, but it still has its original Bio-Pace chainrings. These are slightly ovalized front "gears" that theoretically transfer power better than conventional round chainrings, while being easier on your knees; Shimano spec'd them for mountain and touring bikes for a few years, but they never caught on. The bike is heavy, especially for an aluminum-framed model, but it's also bulletproof. There's just about nothing this side of insanity that will break it.

It needs a few things: the chain has a couple of dodgy links, and everything needs a shot of grease. I plan to change out the Shimano Deore rear derailleur for a Deore XT (why? because I have an XT that needs a home), and I'm looking at a pair of those Shimano pedals that have the nice platform on one side and the SPD-compatible clip-in mechanism on the other. I also want to get a "grocery bag pannier" like this Jand for light shopping trips.

Now, if I can just figure out how to mount a surround-sound speaker system for an iPod nano...

Brazing Huffy

I really like that title; wish I had a post to go with it.

OK, I do...sort of. It relates to my next project, which is to learn to braze so that I can perform a minor repair on a *gulp* $4,000 bicycle frame.

[It occurs to me that "minor," when used in this context, has the same meaning as when employed to describe surgery. That is, minor surgery is what is done to someone else.]

Here's the deal. An over-zealous bike mechanic over-torqued one of the hex screws that holds the eccentric cam of the front bottom bracket in place, and popped the brazed-on fitting loose. It's not a disastrous condition, but it has the unfortunate effect of allowing the timing chain (that's the one that connects the front set of pedals to the rear set [um, you do realize that I'm talking about a tandem here, right?]) to gradually loosen, the effects of which are, at best, the occasional disconcerting jerk as the chain attempts to jump off the ring and, at worst, the potentially hazardous condition of coming to a complete and unexpected halt when the chain actually succeeds in doing that very thing.

Anyway, in a fit of completely unwarranted confidence, no doubt engendered by the pleasing-but-minor success of the last project, I've decided that this is something I can fix myself. I have the torch; I have the gasses; and, Wikipedia willing, I'll have the online references that will show me how to use them.

Now, lest you think I'm barreling into this without proper preparation, let me assure you that that will, indeed, prove to be the case, if history is any indication. But it won't be for lack of trying. Here's my plan. I've recovered an old bicycle frame from our storage unit, and I'm going to hacksaw it into pieces and then attempt to reconnect the pieces in a fashion that will result in my developing mad brazing skilz. That's right; a trusty old steed with great sentimental value will be sacrificed on the altar of DIYism.

Prepare to be awed.

I would be less than forthright if I didn't admit that this thing has already gotten off to a less than auspicious start, as I began by googling "braising a bicycle frame." While the inability to spell a thing doesn't necessarily doom one attempts to master that thing, it does perhaps predict a disturbing tendency toward failure. Fortunately, I had that little Jiminy Cricket Googler to pose the timeless question "Did you mean: grilling a bicycle frame?" thereby alerting me to my faux pas. At some point in the future, when I have more time, I intend to return and explore more fully the options of grilling my bicycle frame, provided I haven't already actually done that.

I also need to create a better category for this kind of post, dealing with mechanical repairs and projects undertaken with dubious competence. Suggestions welcomed.

And, lo, it was good.

If Shaun and Ed were recumbent cyclists and wrote ride reports, verily, those reports might resemble this.

But, really, the Brits have a natural advantage when it comes to these things, as their names for places roll off the tongue (or into the eyes) much more funnily than our simple, no-nonsense appellations. (Not counting if you regularly ride through Old Dime Box or Earth.)

Tip o'the 1986 Kiwi helmet to Foo for finding this gem. As Foo wisely points out, however, only devotees of cycling and/or Monty Python will likely be amused. But, surely, that accounts for most of us, doesn't it?

Universal Thorns

And speaking of cycling, the universality of road hazards is amazing. Here in west Texas, we have to watch out for mesquite thorns after a roadside mowing. In Singapore, the bicyclist's nemesis is much prettier but just as stickery.

Droll Troll

The scintillating Cowtown Pattie sent me a link to this post, wherein the author goes out of his way to insult bicycle riders, particularly those of the recumbent persuasion.

And, just for the record, I [no longer] have a beard.

For those who aren't hep to the new lingo all the kool kids are using nowadays, a "troll" is an intentionally inflammatory statement made online with the express intention of rousing the rabble.

Astonished Head's Terrific Trike Trek

I've been checking in on progress every week or so, but Scott's post marked the first official notice that Mr. Astonished Head (aka Ian Wood) has begun his high-tech trike trek across America.

He's riding from right to left, as you glare at Canada, and it should take him until late summer/early fall to arrive in the great northwest. This is one adventure that looks worth following, whether you're in love with the concept (I'm not, particularly) or the trike (which is one of those cool Aussie jobs) or just enjoy observations well-writ.

Another reason to switch to recumbents

Note: This post is engorged with euphemisms. It's hard to write one that isn't.

The Massachusetts Male Aging Study (MMAS), a "cross-sectional, population-based multidisciplinary survey of health in 1,265 normally aging men (aged 40-70 years) conducted from 1986 to 1989" has provided data for a number of related studies and pronouncements. One of the more controversial was issued by Dr. Irwin Goldstein in 1997 when he declared that the sport of bicycling caused or contributed to bad things like prostate problems, impotence, and infertility. Dr. Goldstein's stance was not well-received in the cycling community, as you might imagine. In fact, the leading cycling magazine devoted a large part of an issue in 1998 to the subject.

The magazine's conclusion was (1) that there was nothing to Dr. Goldstein's claims, but (2) even if there was, the problems occurred in only a small percentage of riders, but (3) even if a lot of people had problems, they could be mitigated, but (4) if you had problems anyway it only proved that you weren't man enough to be riding bicycles. OK, I made most of that up; the magazine actually included the story of one of its editors who was experiencing these problems after a lifetime of riding.

However, Bicycling Magazine continues to grasp at studies refuting the type of claims made by Dr. Goldstein and others.

So, with that context, I wonder about the reaction to the fact that Specialized -- one of the world's largest manufacturers of bicycles and cycling equipment -- has introduced a bicycle saddle with the stated purpose of helping to "prevent erectile dysfunction." In fact, Specialized is running a full page ad (shown at right) in this month's issue of Bicycling Magazine, and you don't even have to read the copy to get an idea of what they're up to. But click on the image just the same, because the copywriters have done yeomen's work in making almost every word suggestive of the benefits of riding on this seat.

In fact, Specialized's ad is followed by four additional pages of very fine print in which its dealers across the country are listed. The company might just be doing its dealerships a favor, but my theory is that they're trying to minimize the possibility that any demand for this saddle will be expressed via online orders rather than by guys showing up at their local bike shops asking for "that bicycle seat that, well, you know...not that I need it, mind you. In fact, it's for a friend. Yeah, that's it; it's for a friend."

Normally, one might judge the potential success of new cycling products by how rapidly they're adopted by the pros. If you see a particular handlebar or wheel in the peloton at the Tour de France, you can be assured that it's first rate (or that a sponsor paid unimaginably large sums to get the riders to use it). But my prediction is that it will be a cold day in hades before you see a guy like Jan Ullrich or Ivan Basso roll to the line on a bike sporting this particular saddle...even if they really need it (and I'm not implying that they do). You might as well brand your forehead with a big red "L."

Regardless, my curiosity is aroused as to why Specialized decided to name this product the "Toupé." Perhaps it's appropriate considering that the word connotes an attempt to cover a shortcoming, but I wouldn't think this would be a big confidence booster for a potential buyer.

Technorati tag: Specialized Toupé Saddle

Do you have to be really small to ride a nanotube bike?

Perceptive readers of the Gazette, or those of limited judgment and/or sociomedia outlets might recall this scintillating post about nanotubes, a term which you must admit is fun to say whether or not you understand the concept or, indeed, even believe that the material it represents exists.

As to the latter point, however, we need look no further than the website of Easton Sports, Inc., a well-respected manufacturer of bicycling componentry, where we find that the company is now employing carbon nanotube technology (CNT) in the construction of certain unnamed parts. My double-secret sources tell me that CNT is appearing in some of Easton's carbon fiber handlebars. (I'd feel more secret agent-like if those same sources weren't also running full-page ads in national cycling magazines, a tactic which makes me question the supposed exclusivity of the information I'm being fed.)

Seriously though, this is very cool geek-scifi stuff, even when applied to mundane items like handlebars. If you're interested in Easton's application of the technology, it provides a very readable FAQ here. (OK, "very readable" being a relative term and probably applying only to those who feel that a phrase like "...creating a multi-functional surface treatment technology which exfoliates, disperses, and optimizes the interaction between CNTs and the host matrix" is enlightening and not actually a coded message from the planet Zygorn.)

Personally, I think Napoleon (and Pedro) would be proud.

Technorati tags: Carbon Nanotubes | Easton Sports

Mr. Foo: Really Bent

Our new blogging amigo Mr. Foo, up in north Texas, has drunk the recumbent cycling kool-aid and finds it to his liking.

Technorati tag: Recumbent Bicycles

The blessing of having gifted "neighbors"

You meet the nicest people while in the blogosphere. Take for example, Brian and his wife Jennifer, proprietors of BeanQuest and Jennifer's Nest, respectively. You no doubt recognize their names and/or their blogs from previous posts...a wonderful young couple living in Ohio. Both are quite talented, which you'll quickly perceive after spending a little time on their blogs.

They're both generous with their talents, which is even better, and I've been the recipient of some of that generosity. Brian has helped me with scripting issues in the past (although it's like trying to teach a dog to play Wagner). And now Jennifer has bestowed upon me a one-of-a-kind handmade bike tool roll-up pouch! And I just have to share more about that with you.

That's a photo of it on the right, in its unloaded, rolled-up configuration. You can click on it to see a bigger photo. You may not be able to tell from the small photo but once you unroll it, it's easy to see that it's made of a dish towel, folded and stitched in such a way as to form a series of pockets. Each pocket will hold a tool or other piece of bike-related gear, as shown below. Starting on the left, I've got a CO₂ tire inflator, two CO₂ cartridges, a set of nylon tire levers, a multi-tool with chain breaker attachment, a small crescent wrench and a small set of Channel Lock pliers. Again, you can click the photo for a closer look.

The whole shootin' match rolls up and ties with the integrated twill tape (as if I know "twill tape" from "8 track tapes"; Jennifer has some details on her blog). The rolled-up pack fits neatly into our tandem's rack-mounted pack, where things are now easier to find, and no long rattle around.

It's a great idea for cyclists. You can even use the dish towel to wipe grease off your hands after doing roadside repairs (although I'm hoping it never comes to that!) because, of course, the pouch is washable. I'm wondering if the product might have commercial potential...but, regardless, it's special because Jennifer made it just for me. And here's the best thing:

Yep...it's personalized! (And it also matches our bike, color-wise.)

I'm very appreciative of Jennifer's thoughtfulness and generosity. And if you're the least bit handy with needle and thread, you may be able to figure out other uses for this kind of project; she's made a sketching supply roll-up for her artistically-inclined husband.

Trike across America

I suspect most of us have at one time or another toyed with the fantasy of giving in to the insistent rhythm of that different drummer, chucking the rat race (in whatever personal manifestation we think we're trapped) and venturing forth to do something amazing. For some, that may entail starting a new career, or hitchhiking around the world, or taking guitar lessons...or riding a high-tech tricycle across the United States.

Multitudes of people have bicycled the route this gentleman is planning to ride, but I suspect that only a handful have altered every aspect of their lives to do it. I hope he finds what he's looking for, although my guess is that in most of these kinds of endeavors, the journey is much more fulfilling than the destination. In any event, his progress will be worth monitoring. If his RSS feed doesn't do the trick, you can check his On the Road category for related posts.

Oh, and that "high tech tricycle"? It's a Greenspeed GTO, from the Aussies who make the world's best -- and probably most expensive -- trikes. From what I hear, it's one sweet ride, and it will be interesting to see how Ian tricks it out for the trek.

Tip o'the bike helmet to Scott over at The Fat Guy, who wishes he had the time, discipline and knees to do the same ride.

Book Review: "Chasing Lance"

How significant is the Tour de France to its namesake country? On Bastille Day, that most French of all holidays, the only financial institution permitted to conduct business is the mobile bank that accompanies the bicycle race as it moves across Europe.

That's one of the many behind-the-scenes tidbits served by Martin Dugard in his chronicle of Lance Armstrong's quest for a record seventh Tour de France victory. Of course, there's little suspense, as we all know that Armstrong was successful, but Chasing Lance is about the journey, not the destination.

Dugard has authored a number of books about human achievement and adventure, and has written articles for magazines like Outside and Sports Illustrated. In Chasing Lance, he capitalizes on his securing of a coveted press pass to bring us an insider's look at the 2005 Tour de France, the race in which Lance Armstrong not only secured his place in the permanent lore of cycling but which was ostensibly his last competition as a profession racer.

Dugard has covered the Tour before, has followed Lance's career for years, and has a love for the sport and a deep appreciation for the challenges of riding in what is billed as the world's toughest competition. He also loves the country of France and has taken the time to study its history. (Don't be fooled by his name; while "Martin du Gard" is a French author who won the Nobel Prize for literature in 1937, this Martin has not a drop of Gallic blood in his veins.)

He uses the descriptions of the historical significance of the towns through which the Tour traveled as context for the athletic drama being played out in the race itself. Each chapter is devoted to a stage of the race, with Dugard providing insight as to the individual and team strategies for attempting to master the difficult course. The Tour de France is replete with obscure traditions; it's also a masterpiece of modern logistical achievement as a veritable army travels more than 2,000 miles over the three week course of the race. Chasing Lance provides an entertaining education about the details of both aspects.

The pacing of the book mirrors that of the 2005 version of the race. The early and middle stages are where the heart of the battle for the yellow jersey (the symbol of the overall race leader) are played out, and that's where Dugard concentrates his attention. The strategy for the latter stages is generally centered around not making any mistakes, and there's rarely much drama in terms of the placement of the top riders. But there are still as many subplots playing out as riders in the race, and Dugard provides a look at some of those that might otherwise be overlooked, including some attention to the lantern rouge (the reference to "red lantern" coming from the light that hung from the caboose of a train), the term applied to the rider in last place. In 2005, that distinction belonged to Spaniard Iker Flores, who found no humiliation in his placement. After all, 34 other riders had either dropped out or fallen so far behind as to be disqualified from continung the race.

Dugard is well enough connected to have gotten an interview or two with The Man himself, as well as getting to spend time with other personalities well known to those who follow the Tour de France. The strength of the book comes from his access to those stories and insights, and to the fact that he covered the race from beginning to end, giving him the ability to put into overall context the daily drama (and, yes, even boredom) that played out on the road (and after the day's stage).

In the end, his attempt to equate cosmic significance to Armstrong's achivements borders on hero worship, but that's not to take away from those achievements or the effect they've had on people around the world...and especially other cancer survivors. And I don't fault Dugard for his enthusiasm for Lance, someone who, if not exactly a close friend, does at least have his cell phone number and has called him for a chat. I suspect that for any cycling fan -- or for a fan of human endurance and achievement -- that's pretty heady stuff.

If you're a TdF fan, this is a must-have book. Even if you're new to the sport or the race, Dugard's clear non-technical descriptions of the action and his human-oriented anecdotes make for an interesting and fast read.

Oh, and in case you're wondering...according to Dugard, Lance told him that he will not be racing again. Lance's explanation of why that's so provides the perfect epilogue for the book.

As always, I want to thank the good folks at the Online Marketing department of the Time Warner Book Group for providing a review copy of this book.

Technorati tags: Chasing Lance | Martin Dugard | Tour de France | Lance Armstrong

Rolling over the odometer

I hit 2,000 today, during a bike ride that was remarkable in that much of it took place in the midst of a dense fog that limited visibility to as little as a tenth of a mile. The fog is itself a rarity in these parts; it's even more unusual that I'm out in it on a bicycle.

Anyway, the reference to 2,000 means that I've accumulated that many bicycling and running miles thus far this year, about 1,500 of the former and 500 (check my math, would you?) of the latter. Looking ahead, barring any serious injury or illness, I should finish up the year with somewhere between 2,500 and 3,000 miles.

This doesn't necessarily represent achievement of a goal (at least not in the way you might think; more about that in a moment). I don't set out each year to ride or run a certain number of miles. I do have a goal of averaging at least 30 minutes per day of exercise (at the end of September, I was just over 34 minutes per day in 2005), but the mileage itself will vary depending on the mix of running and cycling. Plus, there are other forms of exercise that don't involve mileage, like the to-be-avoided-at-all-possible-cost windtrainer.

I don't always achieve that 30-minute-per-day goal. My record's pretty good this century, but I missed it more often than not in the previous two decades. The thing is, I still set it out as a goal every new year and tracked my progress; looking back over the records, that progress has been steadily improving. If there's a lesson to be learned, it's one of discipline. I rarely enjoy my workouts, in the sense of, say, enjoying a good movie or a meal at a good restaurant. My rides are not pleasant meanderings through the neighborhood; my runs are at the edge of my endurance level. That's why the discipline is important. If I didn't understand the end game, I wouldn't consistently put myself through what it takes to get there.

My end game is personal and the details aren't important. I can assure you that it goes beyond being physically fit just to be physically fit. The discipline itself is part of it, and that becomes increasingly important as I grow older.

If this sounds like a vague metaphor for something more than running and bicycling, you're probably giving me too much credit. On the other hand, as they say, your mileage may vary.

Time to Retire

No, I'm not that old, but take a look at this photo of the front tire on my Gold Rush Replica 'bent. See those bulges...it looks like a snake that just swallowed a mouse.

I rode the last seven miles of my workout on Saturday with the tire in that condition. I was cruising back into town with a nice tailwind, doing 20-22 mph, when I began to feel (and hear) a rhythmic rumbling that (1) wasn't normally part of my cycling environment and (2) didn't seem to fit into the mental checklist of Good Things That Occur During A Ride. Reluctantly -- one never wants to stop with a tailwind -- I pulled over and immediately saw the problem. It looked and rode ugly, but the bead seemed to be holding and I decided I could make it home...probably.

I'll forego the suspense. I slowed down a bit and made it back without incident. The handling was a little squirrelly in the corners but the bead held and disaster was thwarted. The bike shop has a new tire waiting for me, one that I had actually special ordered a few days earlier after experiencing a series of flats on the front tire and noting some frayed threads in the inner casing of the tire. Yeah, I had a warning, although I've never before had a tire herniate in quite this fashion. I tried to buy a new tire a month earlier, but it's impossible to find a narrow high pressure 20" tire in Midland, even though the number of recumbents is steadily increasing.

The good news is that it's the front tire. Changing the rear tire on a recumbent is not a task for the faint of heart or the short of patience.

Head Squeegee

One of the unanticipated problems of riding a recumbent bicycle is that the relatively upright position allows sweat to more easily run into your eyes. On a traditional bike, you're leaning over the handlebars and sweat often drips off before affecting your vision.

This is a big problem for me, particularly during the spring and summer. And not only is it uncomfortable, it's potentially dangerous. Anything that promises to solve this problem is worth trying. Even so, I was skeptical when MLB ordered these Halo Headbands. Sweatbands had never been very effective for me and this seemed like just a gimmick to justify a higher price.

The concept is simple. The headband has a thin strip of what I assume is silicon rubber or some kind of elastomer bonded to the fabric so that it's positioned against the skin and just above the eyebrows. Sweat is channeled to the sides of your head, away from your eyes. The fabric itself is quick drying and helps to speed the evaporation of sweat.

How's it work? I'm here to tell you that this is one product that performs exactly as advertised. I've used the Halo during rides in some 90°+ days and during some high humidity mornings and haven't once had to wipe sweat out of my eyes. The fabric is thin enough to fit comfortably under a bicycle helmet.

There are a couple of downsides. The Halo II (pictured above) is "one size fits all," meaning that it might be a little tight for some people. There is a model that ties, and it would eliminate the sizing problem. Also, the waterproof strip will leave a temporary mark on your forehead, if you worry about things like that.

It's hard to get excited about something as basic as a sweatband, but if you deal with sweat in your eyes while running, cycling or even working in the yard, you might just find that this product is nothing less than amazing. I'll no longer ride without it!

Technorati tag: Halo Headband | Bicycling | Running

Want to be a better bike racer? Learn to play poker. (And vice versa.)

From Decisive Moments, an essay on how cycling (as in "bicycles") is like poker (provided for my pal Scott, whom I know would like to be better at both...well, better at one of them, anyway).

An excerpt:

Tip o'the helmet to A Whole Lotta Nothing,, which also steered me to another excellent cycling blog, Just Riding Along.

Technorati tag: Bicycling

400,000,000 Knotty Stories

My recent post about shoe lacing patterns attracted a fair amount of derision from some of my "friends," but I'm having the last laugh as I continue to get an untold number of hits* via Google searches for that term.

Recognizing a good thing when I've got it, I'm going to build on that amazing base by pointing you to this article in which Mathematics (note the capital "M") is (are?) used to prove which lacing pattern is the strongest and which is the most efficient, at least in a world of perfect eyelets and shoes "existing in only one plane," whatever the heck that means. Further, we now understand that there are 400 million different lacing patterns available to those of us who are fortunate to have shoes with seven pairs of eyelets.

I'm also thinking about converting to the "straight lacing pattern" (keep those comments to yourself) so that, like the Army, I can cut my laces with one swipe of my knife if I'm ever injured, like when I get distracted by a baby squirrel and fall off the back of the treadmill. And I can live with the "big risk" of uneven ends that accompanies that pattern. At least, I think I can. That's another problem that's easily solved with a knife, you know.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.

*Numbering in the low single digits, if you must know...

Technorati tag: Shoe Lacing Patterns

Running Shoe Lacing Patterns

In response to a comment thread from my earlier post about new running shoes, below is a scan of a flyer that Road Runner Sports includes with each shipment of shoes, showing how different lacing patterns can help solve common fit problems. I use the pattern shown for heel slippage control, and it works very well for me.

Technorati tags: Running Shoes | Lacing Patterns

Yeah, but will my Odor-Eaters still work?

OK, here's a test. Fill in the blanks in the following series of quotes, based on what kind of apparatus you think is being described:

Sounds pretty impressive, right? Would you more or less impressed knowing that the following terms complete the sentences: "shoe," "shoe's heel" and "heel."

Welcome to the brave new world of running shoes, where the $250 "Adidas 1" makes a geek out of every wearer.

According to Gizmodo, in a pre-production sneak peak of the shoe last year, the processors in each shoe operate at a cycle speed of 20 MHz. That's faster than my first desktop computer! I'm trying to find out if there's any truth to the rumor that the teensy CPUs are running an OS called "Shoenix." [Heh.]

The Business Week story linked above discloses that the next generation of this shoe is likely to contain a port for downloading data to your PC. I know at least one local running engineer who will surely be first in line to pony up for that capability.

But I now have to wonder just how long it will be before someone hacks their way onto the winner's stand at the Boston Marathon?

Update: I just realized that I failed to provide a link to the Adidas 1 website. My bad.

Technorati tag: Adidas 1 | Running Shoes | Technological Overkill

Getting Nowhere and Happy About It

If you've been keeping up, you recall that back in February I injured my knee in an unfortunate encounter with a rather antagonistic tree. It was quite painful for several weeks and I probably should have seen a doctor, if only to ensure that I didn't have enough disposable income for another ski trip. Fortunately, the injury was such that it didn't materially affect my ability to bicycle, and I could still limp around the park with Abbye, so things were tolerable.

What I couldn't do, however, is run. I'm not that big a fan of the sport (unlike MLB who has a serious addiction to it and really should be seeking counseling, iykwim), but I will concede that running offers certain benefits over cycling that can't be ignored. For one thing, it's not an equipment-intensive sport; shoes and shorts pretty much covers things (no pun intended). It also provides a workout for different muscle groups. Believe me when I tell you that you cannot adequately train for a cycling event by running, nor vice versa...but you'll come closer to success doing the former than the latter.

Running is also an impact sport, and while your joints will confirm that that carries significant downsides, it also is beneficial for maintaining bone mass, something you young punks don't understand nor care about, but you will, laddies...you will. It's a little disconcerting to contemplate the fact that some elite cyclists in their 30s are already showing early stages of osteoporosis, because their primary workouts do nothing to address bone loss.

Of course, the main thing I've missed by not running is the half hour or so on the treadmill, where my mind is free to wander down any path it so desires, although if the truth be told, it tends to spend most of its time empathizing with my body's mournful protestation of what I'm putting it through.

So, it's with great pleasure that I announce that I am back on the treadmill, and feeling good, if a tad sore. In fact, I climbed on for the first time a couple of weeks ago, but only today have I been able to run at a pre-injury pace and duration, which is my official benchmark for recovery. How did I celebrate? Well, by watching a vintage edition of "Tremors 3: Back to Perfection" on DVD whilst "enjoying" my workout. This straight-to-video sequel is really a quite entertaining movie, and you could do much worse than renting it.

Anyway, it's good to be back on the ol' treadmill. But one of the things I'm most proud of is the fact that I had the discipline to wait more than three months before trying it out. Presumably, with age comes wisdom. I've found that to be rarely the case in my own situation as I seem to have only perfected the process of committing the same mistakes...but every now and then, I surprise myself. I did learn long ago that there are some things you can't comfortably rush. Shaving with a blade is one of them, and recovering from an injury is another. But, as is often the case if we'll have the patience to prove it, the wait is worthwhile.

Weird Bikes: Long Live the Tinkerer!

I love tinkerers. You know, the folks who look at something that seems perfectly complete and functional, and decide that they know how to improve it. Tinkerers are driven by imagination and a desire to make their marks on the world. Or, perhaps, by simple curiosity: what will happen if I do this?

I suspect that no mass-produced device has been the subject of more tinkering than the bicycle. Its basic design hasn't changed in a century, and it remains a symbol of practical utility and inspiring liberation. Yet that doesn't stop tinkerers around the world from, well, tinkering with it...and the results can be both inspiring and humorous.

Take this, as Exhibit A:

This is the MIC WIC Delta recumbent tandem, manufactured by some tinkerers in England who were obviously under the influence of Dr. Doolittle (the book by Hugh Lofting, not the movie by Eddie Murphy). Some say that this bike was designed for 24 hour races. I can't imagine why, probably because of the aerodynamics (no wind hits the stoker -- the person in the back), but I won't dismiss the possibility that it's because the stoker could nap while riding.

It's easy to dismiss something like this as a gimmick, but these guys are serious. If you look closely, you can see that the bike is equipped with disc brakes, and it comes with a 36-speed gearing option. It also offers an independent pedaling system, which means that each rider can pedal or not without affecting the other. The manufacturer also intends to offer a titanium frame option later this year.

As an avid cyclist (with a special fondness for tandems and 'bents) and occasional tinkerer (although not nearly at this level), I get a big ol' grin every time I see something like this. It's not a cure for cancer, but it somehow makes me believe that such a thing will come, and when it does, it will be through the vision and work of a tinkerer.

[Note: As far as I can tell, MIC WIC doesn't yet have a website. This website belongs to a dealer and accessories manufacturer, and it has some additional info about the bike, and several others of "unusual" design.]

It's Over (Lasted longer than Britney's, though)

Some relationships just aren't meant to last, I guess, no matter how hard one works to keep them alive. And so I sadly announce the end of an important chapter in my life.

Things started out so well. Of course, any relationship is going to have those minor irritations, but you figure that you can work through them; after all, nobody's perfect. What you don't count on is the way the irritation keeps growing, until it becomes a pain, and you finally just can't take it anymore. The early thrill...the ease with which you move together in that great eternal dance, joined at the soul...proves temporary and reality sets in.

Sadly, I must assume most of the blame. It's my fault for taking an ill-advised fling rather than staying true to what I knew was right. I succumbed to lust, my eyes taken in by the flash. I'm wiser, if sadder, for the pain.

It was a good run, but, ultimately, we're both better off with someone else.

So, today, I'll pack it in...box things up...and send my new running shoes back to Road Runner Sports. I never should have strayed from my staid-but-comfortable NB 1122s, which are a much better fit for my low-arched feet.

This chapter closes, but another opens, and while my soul still aches for what might have been, my soles are rejoicing!

BLOG Update

Jared over at The Thinklings has posted five resolutions designed to bring perfection to his life. Resolution #1 is to lose some weight through better nutrition and #2 is to start working out again.

Sound familiar?

Have I got a deal for Jared -- and the rest of you motivation-seeking wannabe-hard-body bloggers: the BLOG fitness group, organized under the oh-ffical auspices of the President's Challenge.

I won't repeat the VERY SIMPLE sign-up instructions here; they're well documented here. But I will repeat the invitation: this group is open to any blogger, regardless of race, creed, religion, BMI, cholesterol reading or couch potatocity.

Don't put it off...do it today! You'll be glad you did, and I wouldn't be surprised if you become famous and wealthy beyond your wildest dreams.

B.L.O.G. Update

It's been 10 days since we announced the formation of B.L.O.G., a President's Challenge Group created to provide bloggers with some incentive to take an occasional break from the keyboard and buck the national trend toward porkicity. An update is in order.

OK, so we're off to a, um, methodical start, group-wise. That's OK. There's no sense overdoing it.

Anyway, just a reminder that the group is open to any and all bloggers. Visit the website linked above, sign-up as an individual participant, then click on "Join a Group." The BLOG Group ID number is 430, and you pick your own Group Member Number (which can be your blog name, but doesn't have to be). Feel free to let me know if you have any questions.

Welcome to new BLOG members!

We are proud to announce our first two BLOG members! Wallace over at Streams and Scott of The Fat Guy have taken the BLOG challenge, and will soon be Lean Mean Blogging Machines (according to their own personal definitions) while adding to the cosmic coolness of the blogosphere.

Now, how 'bout you?

Are YOU a Keyboard Cauliflower?

The Post Title Explained

OK, before we go any further, let's discuss the title of this post. I spent literally minutes contemplating a new vegetable- or fruit-related metaphor for bloggers, instead of falling back on the tired old "couch potato" appellation. It was harder than I expected.

The obvious alternatives didn't toss my salad: keyboard carrot (too thin); e-ggplant (too obscure); keyboard kale (too, um, leafy); virtual vegetable (too generic); blog banana (there's the thinness, again); blog brussels sprouts (too wordy, plus nobody likes brussels sprouts).

So, "Keyboard Cauliflower" it is. Got one that's better? I'm open to suggestions...

The President's Challenge Website

Now, on to the real subject of this post. I was watching CNN Headline News yesterday afternoon while cooling down after a 20-mile tandem ride with My Lovely Bride, and this chick in a uniform was explaining the concept behind a new website, The President's Challenge.

This is a "physical activity and fitness award program" of the President's Council on Physical Fitness and Sports. It's essentially an online exercise log, with a few twists designed to give you some motivation and benchmarking tools. I've logged onto it and like what I see.

It allows you to accumulate points based on your age group and the type, intensity and duration of physical activity. Achieving certain points levels qualifies you for a nifty commemorative medallion, which the cynical among us will describe as "cheesy." I won't disagree, necessarily, but I prefer to think of the medallion as irrelevant. It's the points accumulation that's the key.

Take Me, For Example

Perhaps a real-life example will help. I'm in the category of "Adult" (based on age, not maturity). My chosen activity for the day was "bicycling" (I could have chosen from scores of activities, from Aerobics to Yoga, and including Unicycling and Baton Twirling). Once I selected my activity, I can then select from some levels of intensity (in this case, 16+ MPH equals "vigorous"). Finally, I enter the time spent in this activity (75 minutes). Based on that combination of variables, the program computes my points total for the activity (1,015 in this case). Had I actually engaged in 90 minutes of Baton Twirling, I would have earned 348 points. (I don't think that you get any extra credit for contusions and abrasions.)

Now, here's the really cool part. Once you've started your log, you can compare your progress to an interesting assortment of "peer groups." For example, you can compare yourself to others in your age group, in your city, in your state or in your selected activity -- or in any combination thereof.

I am thus far leading the state... nay, the nation... nay the WORLD... in the category of 51-year-old bicyclists riding at 16+ mph. Yep, that one other guy (or gal...it's gender neutral) is a real slacker, compared to me. (If you happen to be that other guy...or gal...don't pay any attention to me. It's just the endorphins talking.)

Of course, as of the typing of this post, only 857 people in the entire universe have actually registered on the site and entered at least one workout, but I refuse to acknowledge any diminishment of my accomplishment.

The Relevance to Bloggers

"So what?" you may be asking. Here's what. I know that some of you are dealing with weight issues, because you're chronicling them on your blog. I know that others are suffering from a variety of aches and pains stemming from hours of relative inactivity in front of a keyboard and monitor. And, finally, I know that many of you blog for the sense of community.

Well, here's a way to bring all three of these issues into a happy convergence. While it's impractical for most of us engage in any group exercise or other physical activities, what we can do is organized into a formal group that allows us to track and, hopefully encourage each other in getting more exercise...the benefits of which are varied and inarguable.

The President's Challenge website just so happens to support this group feature, and I've taken the initiative to create and register a new activity group solely for bloggers. I'm pleased to introduce -- drum roll -- BLOG. Catchy, huh? Stands for "Bloggers Losing Our Girth."

The Group feature of the website allows us to track our progress against other members of our group, while also allowing each of us to continue to monitor progress vs. the various categories I described a few paragraphs earlier.

We can even challenge other groups, although I can't see why anyone would want to go up against a group of focused bloggers, other than, say, a bunch of third graders...well... maybe the group challenge thing isn't such a good idea after all. But you get the picture.

Your Personal Invitation to BLOG

If you're a blogger and you're interested in this concept, please feel free to join BLOG. It's simple; just follow these steps.

1. Visit this page to learn more about the program, then jump to this page to register. This is your individual registration and it's required whether you join a group or not.
2. Once registered and logged-in, click the "Your Groups" tab. You'll be presented with a two-blank form, where you enter a Group Number and a Group Member Number. The BLOG Group Number is 430. The Group Member Number is freeform, self-administered and not limited to a number at all. Please use something that relates to your blog's name (I use "Fire Ant").

That's it! You're a group member, and as you log your individual activities, they will also be accumulated in the BLOG totals.

The Rulez

There aren't any. We're on the honor system here, and the stakes around accurate reporting aren't exactly life and death. This is something to have fun with. Eventually, we'll figure out how to get serious with it, leading to ruin and disenchantment, but we'll cross that bridge later. In any event, if you have some ideas for how to make this thing better -- more useful, more fun, more interesting -- let me know. I'll be happy for the feedback.

Now, get out there and start moving around!

Update - 2003-08-04: A word about anonymity This process is designed to let you remain anonymous to other group members. Even as group administrator, I can't tell your identity other than guessing at it based on your chosen member name. But if you'd like a little recognition, feel free to leave a comment here or send me an email telling me that you've joined, and I'll give you a "welcome link" on the Gazette.

Running across the USA...

Dave and Scott are two lunatics college graduates who share a single burning desire: to run 3200 miles, coast-to-coast, with no support and without paying for lodging. They are now more than 70 days into this Grand Pursuit. How do I know this? Because, of course, they're blogging on the way. Follow the exploits of this zany* duo as they consume mass quantities of presumably free beer until the wee hours of the morning, then arise and run 25 miles or so across this great land. Ah, youth.

While we're on the subject, did you know there is a website devoted to running barefoot?

[Link tips courtesy of Runner's World (the mag, not the website)]

*Yes, I realize I've used the word "zany" twice today. It has a nice ring to it. Zany, zany, zany...

Treadmill-Based Musical Observations

Here we are, five days from the official start of winter, and the outside temp is in the mid-70s. The wind is also blowing around 30 mph, making this seem like a typical spring day in west Texas. The St. Augustine side of my yard is still green. The weeping willows in Grafa Park still have their leaves, for pete's sake. Even the red oaks, having turned red, haven't turned loose. So much for relying on the weather to get us in the Christmas spirit.

Not that I'm complaining too much. With natural gas prices pushing $5.50, I'd much rather hear the warm wind howling through the leafy branches than the hot air blowing through the attic ductwork, if you know what I mean.

But, the windy conditions meant that I'd be putting in a session on the treadmill, rather than enjoying a warm day of cycling. The freaky December weather put me in a mood for contradistinction, for juxtapositionary sensory input, for...weird combinations. So, for auditory stimulation...ummm...plug in Jethro Tull's exquisite "Aqualung" on CD; for visual distraction...TV on mute...click, click, click...there it is: CMT, aka Country Music Television. Nothing makes a few minutes at your anaerobic threshold go by more quickly than hearing "Locomotive Breath" while watching a Dixie Chicks video.

It had been a while (a long while) since I had watched CMT, and I was disappointed to see that the music/commercial ratio was roughly half of what it used to be. And the choice in videos was aimed at a demographic that clearly excluded moi...say, women aged 25-40. There was Travis Tritt, but it was some smarmy ballad instead of the rockin' "T.R.O.U.B.L.E." Brooks & Dunn, normally a good choice, but another ballad (I could tell because it featured Reba gazing mournfully into the camera) instead of the classic "Rock My World (Little Country Girl)." And absolutely no sign of Chris LeDoux ("For Your Love" gave the Fabulous Thunderbirds' "Tuff Enuf" a run for its money). Well, I suppose that's what I get for tuning in at 10:00 a.m.

OTOH, hearing Ian Anderson's scathing lyrics and bad-boy flute (aha!...more juxtaposition) put me in a pleasing stream-of-consciousness groove that ultimately took me back to my DJ days in the greater metropolitan area of Fort Stockton, Texas, home to the 250-watt giant, KFST AM (860 on your radio dial). There's no possible cooler job for a high school kid than DJ, right? Well, yes...and no.

It was cool that the station owner let me host what I'm sure was the only AM album-rock show in the 20,000 square mile service area of the station (don't be too impressed...the population density averaged 1 per square mile). And even better, I got to play my own vinyl - the station being a little, um, underserviced in the rock album area. So there I was, spinning Cream ("Sunshine of Your Love), Iron Butterfly ("Inna-Gadda-Da-Vida") and Chicago ("25 or 6 to 4") to a listenership that undoubtedly numbered in the upper dozens. (I always fantasized that the occupants in the cars on nearby I-10 would stumble onto the station in the otherwise vast wasteland, and report back to their friends in L.A. that they'd found a little bit of rock-n-roll heaven in the desert.)

It wasn't so cool that the rest of the time I had to stick to the station's regular format, charitably described as "variety." That meant we'd intersperse country with western and vice versa, occasionally getting jiggy with Peggy Lee or the Percy Faith Orchestra. The station owner broke most of the R&R demo records that he deemed unacceptable ("Hey Jude" didn't pass the sniff test, as I recall); I can only assume that he never actually listened to my Saturday night show.

I also often drew the short straw to oversee the Sunday afternoon "Classical Hour," and to ensure the airing of the requisite quantity of public service programs; these generally consisted of some pretty good jazz played on behalf of various branches of the United States military. I was also often the "chaperone" for the non-licensed host of the following show which consisted of non-stop, paid-request Spanish music. I'm sure there was a proper name for the musical genre, but I didn't know what it was then, and I'm still not sure. It was a mixture of conjunto, mariachi and what eventually would become Tejano. I was continually amazed at the steady stream of people coming to the station to slip the DJ a couple of bucks in exchange for his playing this exotic music. It took me awhile to figure out that this Sunday afternoon ritual was a major part of the social culture of the day. In any event, I could only envy the DJ's superior listenership, and the fact that I had an FCC third-class operator's license carried precisely no weight with him. I was a regulatory requirement, nothing more.

Looking back, I guess the good outweighed the bad. I'm probably one of a shrinking minority who can remember the sound of a real teletype machine spitting out AP newsflashes, and I did get to hear some great music before anyone else (when I could get to it before the owner). And, frankly, I miss the hepcat Latin rhythms of the inestimable Rudy and the Reno Bops. You can't buy memories like these.

But feel free to make an offer!

Cycling and Blogging

Today was a cycling day. I left early - around 9:30, before the wind picked up - and rode my usual 20 mile out-and-back route. It was a gorgeous day, temps in the 50s, clear skies and light winds from the west or thereabouts. Wind direction is important...a westerly breeze means I get a tailwind coming home, which is always nice. (OTOH, I've found that my best times for this route have generally occurred when I have a headwind on the last leg. Sounds counter-intuitive, I know, but I suspect I know the reasons. First, I'm really warmed up by the turnaround, so hammering back into the wind isn'