errands deserve coffee.

miles: 5 or so

the weather is insane. it does not get any nice or more pleasant than this, honestly. having had the day off i spent most of it catching up on breaking bad, but then it was time to get out and get stuff done. a trip to the store for virgil's rootbeer, a mighty haul of 5 pairs of wool socks, and the post office to mail a campy record BB to some lucky ebay buyer and i was all set with errands.


i stopped by the town green to check out some monuments. i'd say i do this about once a year. today was the day because i was in no rush to go back inside. the grass was lush... and i mean lush. the only time i've ever felt grass thicker than this was on a ranch in colombia owned by a guy who i could only describe as a mix between pablo escobar and panama jack. linen, and lots of it.


after i pedaled about town i head off for some coffee and a nice walk on some sort of greenway trail. it's nice gesture, but hardly what it should be. i thought about the potential of a bike path that would run along the shoreline away from traffic and how bad-ass it would be... and then i thought about how that would never happen here and it bummed me out.


oh well, i guess i'll have to find more dirt roads instead.





crispiness.

miles: some

another rough day at work and a race home to have enough time to go camping. this time i thought ahead and packed the day before so as not to forget anything crucial. 20 minutes after i got home i was already out the door again and on my way. a late-summer mugginess had ruined the almost-autumn vibe that everyone had been enjoying for the past week and today it persisted. on my way a few clouds and sprinkles were interrupted by an intense evening sun.


the dirt road i rode out on was in particularly bad shape today from an earlier rainstorm. i had a funny idea of doing a photo of michelangelo's "creation of adam" with me and a bike... honestly i'll probably do that at some point, but it thought about that quite a bit while riding around path-wide puddles. i found a trail that head off to the right that i don't ever recall seeing before and decided that would be the direction i would head today. along the way i spotted a small ridge off in the woods that i decided would be a good spot to set up camp for the evening. a nice rock outcropping made for a nice backdrop to camp.


i very much enjoy riding a bike with luggage... especially a bike that's designed for carrying luggage. my 24-year-old cannondale st400 is such a pleasure with 20 extra pounds strapped to the rack. [small digression: 20lbs is what i lost in chubbiness this past year. donuts and pizza or a full set of camping gear. crazy.] the bike feels so sturdy with the extra weight and tracks like it's on a rail. delightful.


15 minutes worth of setting up and i was all set for the night. i had a bit of light left so i decided to go for a bit of a walk and see what i could see. i saw more woods. i headed back to camp, made my dinner and crawled into the hammock just in time for a passing shower. i read some of Death,  The High Cost of Living and then dozed off. i awoke to an autumn wonderland... oh my stars, what a wonderland! a brisk 50 degrees and dry as a bone. that was one hell of a morning in the woods, for sure. i got dressed, made my coffee, and sat up on the outcropping just enjoying the insanely amazing morning it was. the coffee was bitchin' too. i packed up and head back to town.


bicycle, you complete me.



moka hussle.

miles: 15-ish

this week was a rough one at work. a power trippin' new health inspector, employees fighting, and business just getting busier all the time. one of my bosses, oddly enough, offered to cover my shift on saturday so i knew my chance to strap some garbage to my bike and go camping was now. after a long ride home in traffic, a trip to the bank, and a trip to pay my mechanic to get my car back left me with little daylight left. i came home and in a fury stuffed some panniers full of stuff for the night and after a few false starts i was off.


i knew roughly where i was going to camp for the night but that was about it. i rode for a bit and found an area that looked suitable enough and went to work. i had barely enough time to set up a tarp and hammock before a headlamp was necessary. i was going to be an early night, indeed. i made a quick bowl of chili and settled into the hammock with a graphic novel for some light reading before i dozed off. i pulled my bike under the tarp in case it rained during the night and every few minutes gave a tug on the pedal to get the hammock swaying. soon enough i was fast asleep.


morning came and with no agenda today i stayed in the hammock for a bit and continued to decompress for a while. no gadgets buzzing with notifications, no tv, no internet, no sounds of the neighbors' kids screaming, no landscapers, no traffic and no work. this was something that i needed desperately. i got up and got to the things that really matter... coffee. while i waited for the moka pot to gurgle i sat and practiced a few new knots i've recently learned. i felt accomplished and totally bad-ass. 

with the coffee ready i sat and watched the last of the alcohol burn off in the stove and then it was time to pack up. feeling a bit dirty and greasy and tossed a leg over my bike and started pedaling home. i passed a few people on horseback coming the other direction and bid them a good morning. it's unfortunate that my life schedule these days rarely allows for time enough to do something as relaxing as this in spite of how short it was. i suppose i'll take what i can get but i'm not happy about it. 


i had a blast all the same, just me and my bike.

wheel revelations.

miles: 9.8

i get it now.

i finally understand my relationship with bikes.

back when i first got into biking, seriously, it was strictly for fun. mountain biking with friends every saturday and sunday without fail, donuts and scabby shins. i couldn't wait for the weekend. while in college i found trails that lead from campus all the way down to a state park with a ton of trails and, when my schedule allowed, would spend hours riding them, by myself, just exploring and enjoying the activity. i couldn't wait for tuesdays and thursdays. biking equaled fun.



fast forward several years. i began getting more "serious" about biking. i started logging big miles, started working intervals into rides, bought a heart rate monitor, became interested in my lactic threshold, raced, lost, if i even finished, i knew how much my stem weighed and and the exact angle of my saddle. i lived bikes.

enter the conundrum of the bike shop owner... too busy selling and repairing bikes to ride bikes himself. my fitness vanished. i gained weight. i became envious of my friends that had the time to continue riding to their hearts' content. i loved bikes. i hated the shitty Huffy's that were the bulk of my repair business. i became resentful of bikes. i depended on them for a living.



when i would get the chance to go out for a ride it was a rarity. my rides were short and slow. i was out of shape and couldn't hang on anymore. i became depressed and angry. i was still holding myself to a standard that was unachievable. i would go home and ditch the bike, proud that i rode but utterly depressed at how awful i had become. i hope it's not too tacky to quote myself, but, in a past post from 2.12.11 i had said, "i'll ride some but it's never quite as good as i remember or as good as i had hoped it would be" and it breaks my heart to remember how i felt about bikes at that time in my life.




but i get it now. once i let go of the past it became so clear to me that i should enjoy bikes and the rides i go on for what they are not what i think they should be based on an old measuring stick. a ride to the store is fantastic. a leisurely cruise down to the town beach at night is superb. a mountain ride in which i have to stop every 10 minutes to stop being dizzy is just a great time for a photo shoot. a ride doesn't have to be 30 miles at a pace of 17mph to "count". i don't have to ride the entire trail system without stopping in order for it to be a "real" ride. i don't need to spend 15 minutes getting dressed and looking for a particular pair of arm warmers that match my booties. sure, i'll still do those things from time-to-time but they do no define, nor are they necessary for me to enjoy my time in the saddle.


i get it now. hey bike, i think you and me are gonna be alright...


smug. just, smug.

miles: 1.6

i live about 0.8 miles from the local super market so i often ride my bike there. the hardest part about the whole trip is getting the bike out of the front doors, which close automatically, and there are some tight corners. today i left later than i normally do, or it's just getting noticeably darker earlier, and it's a bit rainy so i brought my blinky light. well, at the first light i came to a woman rolled up next to me congratulating me on having such a bright light... by this point i was beginning to feel like a responsible adult and replied that it was "common sense". a few more words about how good it was that ride to the store instead of driving such a short distance and she was off. honestly, sometimes i make my self sick with smugness. strangers don't help that at all.

at the store, as is normal routine, i ran into some friends' parents. after some light chatting, as i am known to do,  i was off to collect my food for the evening. yes, i forgot to get a Brita water filter again. i loaded up my pannier and headed home.


 my 1.6 mile ride is short but it's still time in the saddle. it goes by quick but i enjoy it while it lasts.

andy's candies.

Miles ~70

I spent 17 years, more or less, riding the rolling landscape of southern Connecticut in the maze of old New England roads and patchy spreads of uninhabited dense wood. The bike ruled all, and the season dictated what I did and where I went. Those seasons drove me and kept me fresh, each change more than welcome and with a distinct sensation. The silence of winter, under layers and seemingly alone. The escape of spring - daylight, time and exposure suddenly abundant. The summer came in overbearing,  sweat dripping, salt caking and the sun that would never leave. And finally the ultimate victory of fall- summer broken, every breath of cool air reinvigorating the tired body.  Like some poor feeble minded creature my patterns repeated on for all those years through all those seasons, for I just couldn't stop pedaling.

Almost every day I went across those beloved roads and trails.  From early days, under dressed, often lost, bike maladjusted to the eventuality of pouring over maps for any last road I had never ridden, reduced to horrible exploration of long lost trails, the broken promises of old trail head kiosks. After all this time the original reason I took to the bike was exhausted. I had nothing left here to discover. 

Years of magazines stuffed my drawers, piled in the basement. Type the letter b- an endless list autofilled. Books stuffed away. Old pictures. 'Why don't I live there' echoing like a ghost. People live there. They ride there every day. That's their everyday ride. I had nothing left for my everyday ride. I already longed for a nostalgic ride on my roads. I wanted more than anything to come back and feel that feeling- the intertwined twinge of guilt and relief-that I left. I wanted to stop at that intersection and have to remember the way I thought I could never ever forget. 

When I was young my father always seemed to have Andes candies hidden around the house. Already obsessed with maps, I would sit and eat the delicious chocolate and stare at the wrapper. The simple depiction of that grand mountain range was far more than I needed to set off in a reverie, myself on those peaks forever far away. I would always drift to a very specific place, high up where clouds come to you, the vegetation thins, and the grass is soft as it ribbons down between rocky outcrops. My whole life this place has not lost one detail or its sense of dreamy desire. 


Now in the morning the sun crawls over those peaks to wake me. I stare at them out the window as I eat breakfast. And my every day ride is up them to find that very place I've never been to, but never forgotten. Every ride is a new discovery, and it's hard to turn around again and head home. I might be dressed right, my bike might work, but I'm lost again. This time the scale frightens me, I can't understand the people or the signs and the air gets debilitatingly thin. The terrain is a bit more than rolling, the seasons are gone and I can't predict the weather. But even in all this I can still remember and feel the excitement for my nostalgic ride that's waiting me, on those old roads that are now exactly as far away as the Andes once were.

- andy

wool lighting.

miles: 20.0

it's nice what a little fog will do for ambience. it's nature's mood lighting. it's also nice to have a day in early january that's tipping the scales in the mid 40's. in my opinion it's the best temperature for riding, period. knickers, long-sleeves and a vest are the perfect attire for riding. any colder and it almost becomes a chore thinking about what to wear. do i need booties? if so, thermal or just wind-blocking? which jacket should i wear and what base layer would work best with said jacket? thermal tights or deep-winter tights? i hope i don't need the lobster gloves today. too many choices, for sure. i'll enjoy the simplicity of dressing for the mid-40's on this mid-winter's day.



photo credit: mark damien


a usual route was in order for this ride. north, right, over that way, down there. good conversation was had with a fellow life cyclist. we spoke of wool and skis. i had fleeting thoughts of past summers of countless hours and miles in the saddle going here and there and back again. the days of lesser responsibility certainly are missed sometimes.

pedal, pedal.