Trail Boss Cimarron, Bear Bag, The Van, and the Bike

Riding With My Expert

My expert came to the house today to take me out on the roads for my first long ride--Dr. Dick Weaver, a colleague of mine when I used to work.

My Expert is board certified in three specialties (Family Practice, Occupational Medicine, and Aerospace Medicine) while I am only certified in Family Practice and Emergency Medicine. My Expert is still working as Medical Director of Solutia Incorporated on both a national and local plant level. I am unemployed and perhaps unemployable. My Expert is 62 years old and looks perhaps 50, while I look every day of my 61 years. My Expert weighs about 160 pounds while I weigh over 230. My Expert showed up having already ridden over 6 miles to get here to take me on a Quarter Century Ride and then to ride the 6 miles back home when he got rid of me. He showed up on a Recumbent Bike, the first I had ever seen. The thing looks more like a rocking chair than a bike and costs $2200 more than my “expensive” bike. I was dressed in an orange Carhartt T shirt and he in a French Racing Shirt. My shorts were $5.00 orange boxers from Wal-Mart; his dedicated biking shorts with built in chamois for groin padding. I did have a pair of riding tights with chamois from Dick’s Sporting Goods hidden under the orange boxers used as a cover-up for modesty. My Expert is a vegetarian while I just recently went back on red meat after 25 years. My Expert has ridden over 12000 miles on a bike while I probably have done 500 to a thousand. My Expert is dreaming of riding across country someday when he’s prepared, and I’m going in two weeks. Is there something wrong with this picture?

My Expert was very gracious and led the way on a ride out of town about 12.7 miles and back. He didn’t want to cut me short on my quarter Century Ride (25 miles) so we did 25.4 instead. It reminded me of the time some 15 years ago my running Expert Dr. Jack Fabian came over to do a 20 mile run with me on a course I had set up. He arrived promptly at 5 AM and we were off all over town stopping at food stores for fluid and nutrition. Some 5 hours later we were sweating on my front porch when he said, “The course is short.” “What?” I said. “Get in that car.” And off we went now driving around the course, pulling into each food store, even pulling over where we had urinated behind the trees to meticulously measure the course. We pulled into my driveway and the odometer read 19.8 miles. “You owe me 0.2,” he said, so we had to run 0.2 more to keep him happy. You have to love The Experts, if you survive.

The ride went well. Yesterday I thought I would learn everything today. Well, I learned a lot. My Expert said I did well as we averaged 11.4 MPH. The cycle computer told us that and My Expert seemed genuinely impressed with the pace. I was impressed that the computer worked. He rode ahead and called out warnings like “Car behind,” and pointed to road kills and pot holes so I didn’t hit them, and gave hand turn signals. He told me about the need to “take the lane” to hold up the traffic if necessary as when a left turn is needed. He showed me how to nearly get killed when an ass-hole made a quick right hand turn in front of us; and likewise to avoid death when another ass-hole passed an oncoming car and was coming straight at us in our lane thus crowding us off the road. My Expert was remarkably calm through these three incidents and I was glad to be with him and not some others I know. I was glad to miss the collisions. But I was also glad to miss an ass kicking from a redneck riled by bicyclist road rage from an Expert! The logging trucks were exciting. Women, worse than men, wouldn’t crowd the center line so we got less space. It’s too bad I can’t determine a driver’s sex through my rear view mirror. My tires were low and I haven’t yet rigged up my pump—a beginner’s error. My Expert pulled out his compressed CO₂ gas cartridge and jet inflated it (he did not pump it up!). I carried two bottles of fluids which was not enough. And one of those had a screw on cap—a bad choice on a bike as it takes two hands to open, leaving none to control the bike. The cycle computer once read a temperature of 114 degrees. My Expert says it wasn’t that hot, but it was hot enough.

Trail Boss Works on the VW Euro-Van Camper

Cimarron, the 85 year old hiker friend, and I walked our five miles this morning before the bike ride. He is really beginning to get psyched about our trip. I am blessed to have him as my friend and Crewman; however, he doesn’t like the name Crewman. The Cimarron name is the one he used when he walked the entire 2,174 mile Appalachian Trail from end-to-end from Georgia to Maine over two years from 2003-4. For 53 years he’s been a scout leader and went to Phil Mont Scout Ranch 14 times to escort troops. He’s got the road maps all marked up with the data from Adventure Cycling on our cross country route. He talked with the repair shop about the refrigerator repairs and set up a finish date this week. We discussed the need to fix his head lights which have a broken aim adjuster and need new bulbs. He doesn’t want anything to go wrong so he bought the most expensive bulbs—a true believer that you get what you pay for. He gave me my third indoctrination to the VW showing me at least two more secrete compartments, and we tested the newly fabricated bike rack. We discussed pots and pans, food preparation, and Millie showed him the stuff in her pantry she is sending along. I guess she really isn’t going. After a few weeks on the Appalachian Trail, when Millie and I hiked it in 2000, I changed her trail name from Sweet Pea to Trail Boss. With her permission and to Cimarron’s delight, I have decided to rename him Trail Boss for this trip. He deserves the honor, has accepted the responsibility, and this name is honorable. I’ll remain as Bear Bag.

On a more important note, we are anticipating heart surgery next week on the Trail Boss’s grandson. The little 5 year old has a valve problem and will be operated at Children’s Hospital in Atlanta on August 1. That is his main focus at this time and rightfully so. Please add Little Luke to your prayers. Trail Boss Cimarron and his family and mine would appreciate it.

Taming the Bicycle

We’ve gotten back to Pensacola by way of Fredericksburg, VA, home of daughter Jody and family. I didn’t ride the bike in Virginia but did check out a 30 mile segment of the last few days of the cross country bike ride. It is a rather nasty back road avoidance of I-295 around Richmond. Probably when the trail was set up in 1976 (the bicentennial year cross country bike ride) it was isolated back country road. Now it is suburbia—filled with subdivisions and traffic and no bike lanes on winding roads. The cars will be on your tail instantly. At least by then I’ll be in shape and experienced.

Check out the following story by Mark Twain entitled “Taming the Bicycle.” It’s apropos. http://www.bicyclinglife.com/HowTo/TamingTheBicycle.htm

I’ve been taming my bike here in Pensacola. I’ve watched the Tour de France, ridden 5 miles a day for several days, been contacted by my colleague Dr. Dick Weaver who knows how to ride and actually rides. Dick and I will be going out on a quarter century ride (sounds better than 25 miles!) tomorrow. He rides all over and around the town and dreams of a cross country ride. But he is a productive member of the medical community (still) and will not be going along, either. I plan to learn everything from him tomorrow.

Today I walked my 4 mile route with my crewman, 84 year old Cimarron. We talked about our plans and practiced visualization. If you don’t actually ride, visualization is next best, I hope. I then took the VW camper to get a bike rack installed, while Cimarron went to a funeral. When we each returned he gave me the first “indoctrination of the VW.” When he got to the outside shower nozzle which looked more like a hand held dish washing sink sprayer to me, I said, “Is that hot water?” He said in a loud voice, “WHAT?” I guess it isn’t.

He’s been studying the 101 maps of the ride, trying to transpose the route onto road maps using a highlighter. He’s a retired military pilot and a retired school teacher and is looking for all the military bases we can find for some cheap stop over’s.

I’ve added a cycling computer, a pedestrian warning bell, an LED blinding light, a handle bar bag, padded handle bar extension grips, and HALT Pepper spray to the bike.

Tomorrow is my first longer ride.

My first wreck

Later in the day July 13, 2006

Well was it Gilda Radnor who always fell off her bike in “Laugh In?” (No, it was Ruth Buzzi my friend Patricia tells me.) I’m glad no one was watching, although I could have been injured badly. I started out the beautiful, smooth, wide Rails-to-trails Mahoning Shadow Trail. I’m still trying to get familiar with locking my cleated shoes into the pedals of the new Bianchi Strada Bicycle. One look down and the front wheel went off the 10 foot wide trail and I flew over the handlebars at about 15 MPH. The landing was onto the left shoulder that was driven into the cinder railroad bed and left an indentation in the cinders 6 inches deep. The left clavicle (collar bone) felt like it broke and the left chest and elbow hurt. The left elbow was bleeding. The neck, head and face did fine and I never hit the helmet. I was stunned and lay there for several minutes to collect myself and be sure I wouldn’t pass out when I sat up. The bike was a little dirty but otherwise okay and my water bottles flew 10 feet away. Soon I sat and later stood up and did an inventory of body parts. Nothing is broken, the arm has road rash, and the shorts and shirt are filthy. I proceeded on with the beautiful ride which turned out to be about 5 miles one way and I did coast a full 4 miles on the return trip. The trail leaves Punxsutawney and proceeds southeast toward the Eastern continental Divide which is just 8 miles or so out of Punxsy. Water from the Punxsy side goes into the Mahoning Creek, Allegheny River, Ohio River and the Mississippi. Water on the other side goes to the Susquehanna River and the Chesapeake Bay. My father taught me this when I was 6 years old when he stopped the car once on the divide so he could urinate into the Atlantic while I urinated into the Gulf of Mexico! I’ve tried to teach my kids and grandkids similarly.

Punxsutawney, PA

Early on July 13, 2006

We have been visiting and training in our home town of Punxsutawney, PA, for the past 10 days. Both of our mothers live here along with about 90 other relatives in this home of the Groundhog population 5000. In 1963 Millie and I were king and queen of the Groundhog Celebration. But now we live in Pensacola, FL, where our town and home were devastated by Hurricane Ivan 2 years ago. Millie and I are still living in the kids bed room as the rest of the house looks like a warehouse. Now last week someone put an explosive in a Pensacola neighbor’s mailbox and today we heard on national news that the Punxsutawney Groundhog Zoo was listed along with 27,000 other places as a potential terrorist target.

Now back to the training. I rode southwest out of town on the Mahoning Shadow Rails to Trails about 15 miles to Fordham. The trail is beautifully done at the cost of several millions of dollars. Along the way I saw about five other bikers, some coke ovens, old abandoned coal mines, the Mahoning Creek (a major contributor to the Allegheny River and then the Ohio River), and one deer. The bike rides very well, for a bike. Today I will ride the trail to the east out of town to a place called Devil’s Elbow. I remember it as a youth when Millie and I went out there to get wild flowers for our senior science project. The elbow is a very major switchback in the county road that crosses the tracks there. The ride is up hill all the way for 11 miles and then coast all the way back, THEY say! We’ll see if they are right.

The bike is a new Bianchi Strada purchased at Truly Spokin in Milton, Florida for $800. It’s a fine piece of machinery for that low price. To those who don’t bike, I could have easily spent $2500 for a bike. I’ve known Victor the store owner for 20 years and he is an expert who would never steer anyone wrong. I used to ride a bike a little in my running days--enough so I wouldn’t fall off during a triathlon. In those days I would have rather run the extra 56 miles as opposed to riding the darn bike. But this bike is a better fit for me now. By the way, I still have the old one and it’s for sale. It’s about a 1985 model Centurion Pro Tour 15 with a 22 inch frame and 27 inch tires. (That means it fits about a 5’ 7” to 6’ person.) It has 15 speeds, weighs about 20 pounds, and is in perfect condition with near new tires. It preceded index shifting. The bike was purchased back then in hopes of riding across America as I knew I could never run the route (my first choice), but it never made it out of Pensacola and rarely out of my garage. That one cost about $600 in its day. I want $175 for it.

We carbo loaded last night at the Anchor Inn, a famous restaurant in town where we formerly held the pre race dinner for our Groundhog Fall 50 mile run that Millie and I directed for 10 years. Anyone remember that adventure!

I'll report about today's ride later.

Bike Across America beginning mid August 2006

I plan to ride my bike across America following the Adventure Cycling Association route maps. See their web site for everything about bicycle touring and the route. The web site is: http://www.adventurecycling.org The trip will take 60 to 90 days and will begin at the Pacific Ocean at the mouth of the Columbia River in Astoria, Oregon, and end at the Atlantic Ocean in Yorktown, VA. Although the country is said to be about 3000 miles wide the trip is over 4000 miles as we don't go the direct route and avoid the major highways.

In 2000 my wife Millie and I hiked the Appalachian Trail 2168 miles from end-to-end. The bike trip is my next great adventure.

My friend and Appalachian trail Thru-hiker Mike Caetano, trail name Cimarron (he spells it CimaRRon) will crew me driving along in his VW Euro-Van Camper. He'll monitor the daily progress and find us suitable places to stop for the night which will include camping, hostels, and motels. I will not need to carry everything as I'll see him now and then throughout the day and every evening. He'll carry an extra bike so breakdowns will not cost me pedal time. We plan to go about 40 miles per day at the start and to progress towards 50-60 miles per day.

Millie says she's not going along. Others have been invited, but no one else has committed. It seems a shame to have the whole organization planned and to go it alone, but we will!

We'll carry the laptop and should be able to update this Web Log twice a week.