Desert Rivers 400k: Yakima Canyon Delights...as Always: Final PBP Qualifier

For some reason, the 400k has always been my favorite length of brevet. Mind you, I've only done a handful, but still it seems to suit me. This one, the Desert Rivers 400k, was one of my favorites because the route featured the Yakima River canyon.

I have loved driving our family through this canyon for years now, all eyes peeled for Bighorn Sheep (except mine as the driver, right, though yes I do peek through my peripheral vision when I can). I have loved every minute floating a raft down the Yak looking for those fat 'n happy trout. It was on such a trip that I introduced the SingingCyclist to fly fishing for trout.

I have loved bank fishing the Yak as well. In fact I remember one time in particular taking a day off work over 15 years ago to drive up to the Yak from Seattle with a fishing pal. He didn't tell me he had to be back just after lunch! I was just getting into it, but when he told me he had to get home I was shocked. I thought we had the day to ourselves. I threw out a few more desultory casts, then dragged in my line and started to step up onto the grassy bank when I spooked a monster trout lurking just under that deeply undercut grassy riverbank. Instead of working the bank for that monster's pals, I had to drive us back home. The memory of that "one that got away" moment haunts me still.

Now I have a new Yakima treat to add to my list: riding up and down the canyon in rain and sun. We had both. In all shades of exploratory dimensions, the Yakima River canyon never disappoints. Fisher folks talk about their "home waters". I know what constituted home waters for me in Colorado: the then under-appreciated St. Vrain River and it's various forks. Hardly a river by most standards, but sweet and special by those who knew it. Today, could my home waters be the Yak? I don't get there enough, but it is in the running as far as fishing goes. And for biking river valleys or river canyons, the Yak is up there as well. Though I do recall my first 300k through the Umatilla River valley, and that was pretty fabulous too. But then I can't forget riding through the car-banned upper Virgin River Valley in Zion National Park with DartreDame. That was as glorious an evening, river bicycle ride as one could have in a lifetime. Well, now that I think on it, cycling the Chesapeake & Ohio Canal towpath along the Potomac River was pretty darned special too.

I guess I've come--in writing this very post--to the inescapable and now clearly obvious conclusion that my most favorite bicycle riding is through beautiful river valleys and gorges. I suppose I've always know that, but hadn't consciously put it forward before. Well, there you go.

See that railroad track? One night--I think on the very trip SingingCyclist caught his first fish--Dartre, Singing and I were camped out behind Red's Fly Shop. Red's used to be very low brow, just a shop with places to pitch your own tent. They rented drift boats and guided sports, but that was about it. Now, it's a regular high brow lodge. Not the same.

But back to the track. We were dead asleep after a day of raft rowing, fishing and frolicking. Suddenly this freight train came down the track which was just across the river, and I'd have sworn--Dartre and I both would have sworn--that that freight train was about to barrel right through our tent and run us over. It was so loud it was unimaginable. Singing slept right through it as kids will do. 

Next morning we realized that it was the fact that the train noise carried across the river added to the fact that the track was right up against the tall canyon wall that so enhanced the roar and rumble of that train. It was like nothing else I've experienced!

Part of what makes river valleys so special is their dramatic evening lighting and soft breezes. Swallows love these rugged cliffs for nesting, and cycling through swooping swallows as the Sun's rays tinge a reddish glow onto our world is sublime. Even grazing cows and goats appear happier in the gloam. All is right and settled and patient with the world between the Sun's setting and darkness.

As you come up and out of the gorge heading South, the orchards take over again, and the sky opens up. The Desert River becomes more desert than river once more.

The photo above is of one cyclist among hundreds I encountered driving back home through the canyon the day after the brevet. This Your Canyon for a Day event opens up the canyon to bicycles and people of all kinds and ages and sizes, and closes it to cars.

Here riparian habitat meets the cycling habitat. It was festive and colorful and a true happening, this opening of the canyon to cyclists only. With my bike on my roof rack they thought I was one of them and let me through. For safety's sake, though I drove slowly, it would have been better had I avoided the canyon that trip.

But driving back through the Yakima River canyon where I had just ridden my 400k was even better because I knew that by finishing this Desert River 400k brevet I had qualified for Paris Brest Paris. I was on my way!

Much thanks to Paul Whitney and Cathy for organizing and volunteering for this brevet!!

Keep it riparian,

CurioRando

Oregon Coast 600k: Rolling Like a River to the Sea, PBP Qualifier #3

I rode out with the rest of the gang for the start of the Oregon Coast 600k Brevet, and we crossed rivers like the one above, racing it to the seacoast.

Check out the little red one!

Eventually, we made it to the shore. I hadn't seen the Oregon coast in years; it didn't disappoint.

Seastacks and salt air tempted lingering, but alas I was Paris bound this trip. Oregon coast lingering must come another day.

Bill Alsup, veteran randonneur, and I rode many a mile together, but most were decidedly not as portrayed above. First, we mainly rode together at night. Second, it was mostly either raining or downright raining hard. Or foggy. Or all of the above when we were tired.

Bill's smile, however, as pictured above was never far away.

This was my second successful 600k, and it was tough. An hour's sleep only, and I got into this rhythm of getting into the controles near the limit, then eating and resting and lingering too long causing me to get to the next controle near the limit, etc. I have to say that the tension that's built by never having the cushion you'd like is itself wearing. Not advisable.

I ended up riding in to the finish with Will Goss, another vet, and it was great riding with both Bill and Will. Really a very friendly crowd of randonneurs those two days.

Many, many thanks to Susan Otcenas and Susan France. A well-organized and beautiful route!

Keep it coastly,

CurioRando

First Ride for Dartre after the Travails

A few weeks ago, Dartre got back on the bike. It was the first time in too long.

Her travails started by being rear-ended while sitting at a light in her car. She was driven into the car ahead, and she received a serious whiplash.

Several months of recovery later, her knees just stayed swollen. She had been starting to run again for fitness just before the accident, but her knees hurt and swelled up. So when the swelling didn't subside she got MRI's and X-Rays, and learned that in addition to the whiplash she has an early onset of severe arthritis due to a genetic knee placement issue and bad luck. 

This is tough to swallow, so a bike ride was a victory of sorts. And doesn't she look good back on the bike?

She now has to be careful of the knees while she gets back to cycling training. And while she practices patience, she also has to give up the training she loves most: running. That's a big bummer.

As we all know, Life isn't fair. But that doesn't make it easier. It still sucks.

So Dartre back on the bike, carefully, is a good thing. And a smile and sunshine on her face is just beautiful.

Wish her well.

Keep it safe,

CurioRando

I Have Tasted Flèche, and It was Good

This is the second attempt at this post. The first attempt was posted and public for a while, but apparently the whole Blogger system went down. That post was a casualty. Blogger repeatedly reported that all posts have been restored "except for a very few" so I'm guessing mine was one of those few. Since I lost most of the content and had to recreate it, I just lost some gumption along the way. What follows is my second but paler attempt to capture the essence of what was a satisfying introduction into team randonneuring.

I completed the Seattle International Randonneurs 2011 Flèche last weekend, and the Flèche is a wild event. The rules do not correlate with any other ride or experience I've had, but if you want to explore the details of what constitutes a Flèche, check out this page from the Randonneurs USA website.

The essence of the Flèche is that it is a team event with a number of teams originating in different places all riding toward one central ending location--in our case: Olympia, WA--and each team must continue riding for 24 hours straight. From there, it gets very specific and detailed. But this collective nature, of forming teams, is the allure of the Flèche.

My teammates, Dan, Narayan, and Jeff, pictured left to right above at our first controle, were all pretty experienced at both randonneuring and Flèching. We made a good team, and we stuck together even when the weather conspired against us in the dead of the night.

One of the beauties of the Flèche is that typically the team gets to stop and eat pretty frequently. We experienced that only once, here in the Denny's in Issaquah.

The picture above is our more typical eating style: on the curb shoving calories down our gullets.

This indoor shot was from the Post Office in Orting. Narayan was pretty cold, heck we all were, but he declared him self so, so we took a break there and Dan gave Narayan a fresh pair of dryer gloves as Narayan's were soaked and his hands were frozen.

The rains hit us pretty hard and worse we hit the foothills and the cold chilled our wet bodies. Coincidentally, we rode through Friday night, and Saturday at dawn was the opening of lake fishing season. Dozens of fishers huddled around bonfires in the dead of the loneliest part of the night from 2am till dawn. Boy, did I want to jump off the bike and warm up next to a fire and talk fishin'. Only problem was that our constant companion through most of the ride was being time crunched.

Above, Jeff Loomis, our Flèche captain for William Tell's Riders, our team name, climbs a hill. He and Dan Jensen led Narayan Krishamoorthy and me up and down many hills. Actually, Narayan is a fierce descender and often jumped ahead on the descents. But Narayan and I struggled up the hills that Jeff and Dan trotted right up. They were very patient, and I'm grateful they invited me onto the team knowing I'd slow them down.

But most of all I want to apologize to my teammates for my end-of-the-ride stumble that could have cost us our finishers' medals. As it became clear that we needed to hustle and stay as a unit near the end to finish on time, Jeff gave us clear instructions about holding ourselves into a pack. And so we did until, following Narayan, I saw him slow down for a minute and peel back. I now had the lead, and instead of keeping a solid pace that was good for the collective I started to pick up the pace. It was so uncharacteristic of my pace throughout the previous 23 hours where I often brought up the rear, but there I was zooming ahead.

Worse, I had flipped over my cue sheet prematurely and I raced straight ahead instead of turning as was called for. Captain Jeff sent Dan speeding ahead to reel me in, and we rejoined our brethren and made it fine. But what was I thinking?!?! Good question. I still don't know. I think it was a combination of addled brain from riding so long and suddenly feeling my oats for the first time possibly due to the two large handsful of chocolate-covered Espresso beans I had eaten at the 22:00 mark.

No excuses no matter what the reason, I'd put our group at risk right on the edge of victory. I hereby apologize publicly to my Flèche brothers.

And that I think does give a sense of what a Flèche fundamentally is: a ride where each cyclist contributes to the whole and so has individual and collective responsibilities. I think I did pretty well on some counts. I came properly prepared. I had plenty of my own food (some wouldn't call Perpetuem and Gels food, but I like them). I wasn't fast, but I had moved past my recent injuries and sinus gunk to be healthy and hale for the event.

DartreDame came to Olympia and met me just after I finished--a surprise move. It was great because the next day was warm and sunny (we have had the wettest and coldest Spring in many a year here so that even Seattleites feel entitled to complain for what it's worth). We strolled around the water and plunked down on a sunny patch of lawn where she kneaded my sore muscles. Now this was the perfect cycling recovery.

Keep it teamed up,

CurioRando

Critters of the Night Brevet 200k, PBP Qualifier #2

Yep, I saw another Bobcat while riding a brevet in Oregon. I spied one on my first 400k (the same brevet I ran over a weasel). This time it was on Geiger Road at 3:30am where the road crosses a small stream. What a rush! I love nighttime riding on lonely country roads.

This route was put together by Marcello of the Oregon Randonneurs. Come to think of it, I met Marcello on this very 400k while I was photographing a Turkey Vulture. But this brevet last night was his night-starting 200k. I needed a 200k Qualifier for Paris Brest Paris, and I like the idea of practicing night starts as that's what it will be in Paris.

Only six of us started at 5pm--I wonder why more didn't join us?--and we jumped out fast. Once again, despite telling myself to start slowly I got into trying to hang with the faster guys. My rationale was that since we faced a stiff headwind, it'd be worth it. And it would have been if I wasn't too slow.

So I peeled off after 20k and rode the rest on my own. The weather held, and despite getting a spit of rain now and then, mostly we saw stars.

Before it got dark, I captured the picture above of a chawed tree along a bridge crossing a small stream. I'm guessing beaver since it was near the stream and porcupine often chew bark higher up the trunk, but I'm not certain. What do you think? Below is a closer look.

Reminiscent of a previous post featuring a beaver-chawed tree. Is there more beaver activity now, or am I just tuning in to beavers now that I've seen their handiwork while riding? Am I experiencing a rando version of the familiar Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon again?

I also really like the sounds. Lots of frogs last night. Once, it was quiet, and I was riding along when a frog croaked right next to me all of a sudden and very loudly. Maybe I startled him, but I know he sure startled me out of my pedaling reverie!

Like to hear some frogs I recorded last night? Check this audio file out!

Also saw a raccoon that crossed a road in front of me--from a wooded area along a stream on one side to an open field on the other. When he understood that he'd be out in the open by the time I got to him, he spun around and loped back from whence he came back into the brush and stood there staring at me in that scornful, defiant way they do.

It was a cold night--frost on my window after my 1.5 hour nap before driving back home to Seattle.

But it was nice and toasty in Marcello's and his wife Kathy's house. I was the last finisher, and she conjured up some biscuits and jam and hot tea for me. Really hit the spot. And as I ate she regaled me of their chicken-raising adventures. I was really interested as I've been contemplating chickens, even getting Dartre's blessing. But in the end, even though Kathy reminded me of how affectionate they can be (I really took to the chickens when I visited the farm where my grandfather grew up in Oxford, PA when I was a wee lad), I think I've come to the realization that we just don't need more responsibility in our lives.

On the way home from this nighttime brevet, I was pretty beat. But as I came upon the exit for the Nisqually Wildlife Refuge I had to stop. I used to visit there years ago, but they recently removed the dikes and opened up the area for reclamation by Puget Sound. The Ranger told me they doubled the amount of esturay in the Southern Puget Sound in this one restoration. Perhaps as much as 750 acres of restoration, I'm not certain.

I was too pooped to go for a stroll--I really wanted to be back home with the family--but I put it on our family to do list: visit the Nisqually Wildlife Refuge. As I was leaving I saw an older couple with cameras and huge wildlife lenses. They were fixated on the little pond adjacent the Info Center. There, just in front of us was a pair of Wood Ducks. Talk about beautiful! They said they were told that they had just descended on this spot for the first time this year.

Perhaps the most beautifulest of all the ducks (though the Harlequin is right in there), the Wood Duck is stunning.

But all the critters great and small have their habits, whether they be wild or domesticated. I am enchanted by them all.

Night brevets are cool!

Photo of Bobcat courtesy of National Geographic. Wood Duck photos courtesy of Wiki.

Keep it croaking,

CurioRando

Fall City, Granite Falls, Falling in Love with Fall, Part 2

This is Part 2 of a post I began months ago. For a refresher of Part 1, please go here. Hint, there were cool pictures of horses' heads poking out from a barn.

Given it has been so long since the earlier post, this post will be a little disjointed. Mainly pictures.

Do Woolly Worms predict Winter's severity? I sure don't know, but I wasn't taking any chances. I avoided every one I came across. Then, I got down for a closer look. Legend has it that it is the size or color of that middle band that is the tell-all. Clearly, this one has a rather funky middle band, don't you think?

Eventually, I figured why not just ask him/her. This tiger moth caterpillar, the proper term, didn't answer but just balled up when I queried. Maybe that is the answer. Maybe he/she was telling me I better curl up this year. I don't have a control from another milder year to compare/contrast, so who knows? Now that we've had our Winter, mostly, did this little furry guy correctly predict for us?

These fellows weren't saying either.

OK, if you squint and look for two narrow reddish-orange fishy-looking things in the middle of this photo you'll spy two spawning Sockeye salmon. They certainly know Winter is on its way, whatever the severity.

At the Alaska in Pictures website, they have this picture below of a spawning Sockeye.

Fall Flowers.

But here, I do remember what I was going to say. This is the Skykomish River looking downstream toward Two Bits, an old Steelhead fishing hole of mine and many others.

Here's the Sky looking upstream. All this Fall day moodiness and fishy-smelliness reminds me of my old fishing pal, Boz (no, I didn't mean to say he is moody or fish-smelly). Sadly for me, he moved to New York. It was understandable, as he and his wife needed to be back East with grandkids and such. But I sure do miss fishing or plotting to go fishing or reminiscing about fishing with Boz.

Remember these old Northwest, fishy haunts, Bozzie? Of course you do. You are nothing if not a genuine adventure-is-just-around-the-corner kind of guy. I love that spirit, and we had some times together. I learned Steelhead fishing at your wadered knee, and I loved it all. Best to you and yours in New York. And don't bother with getting all the facts straight as you regale your kith and kin of all your Northwest fishing legends. Facts don't matter, but the spirit of exploring our natural world with good friends sure does! Tight lines, buddy!

 Here, I came along this beaver-chawed tree right along the roadside. I guessed the "X" meant this tree was designated by the authorities for removal. Or could it be the beavers mark their trees first?



Here is my bike for scale. This is one large tree this ambitious beaver was taking on. On a later ride, the tree was gone, neatly sliced off by a chain saw. Efficient, but not nearly as charming.

Keep it spirited,

CurioRando

I, Cyclist, Go for a Run to Cross Train

I did it! I ran!

All that talk with Duane Wright on my recent 300k and running inspiration from DartreDame got me out there running along Lake Washington. And it was good.

I liked the freedom, and the physicality of moving different muscles than I'm used to moving.

I won't go into all the reasons why cross training is alleged to be so good for athletes excepting the most popular: injury prevention. That alone is a pretty good one, but if you'd like to read a little more:

• Runner's World
• About.com Bicycling
• Easy Cycling
• Runner's World again

A few of my previous posts about cross training opportunities:

A post of mine on wood chopping.

A post of mine on Snowboarding.

A post of mine on Snow Skiing.

A post of mine on Snowshoeing.

A post of mine on Firewood Slinging.

A post of mine on Weight Training.

Wow, I had no idea I'd drilled down into this cross training idea so much. Problem is looking at that list, the only ones I have done more than a few times of late are the ones that have to do with firewood and double as chores.

Well, at least I keep my aspirations crossed and varied.

Photo courtesy of Wiki.

Keep it injury-free,

CurioRando

2011 Paris Brest Paris 300k Qualifier, Check!

I just finished the Oregon Randonneurs Winter Grab Bag 200k/300k Brevet last weekend, and I have a few observations. First, the picture above is of longtime randonneur, Duane Wright and his trusty fixed gear Peugeot as I dropped him off after we finished our 300k brevet.

Here are my observations:

• Good thinking on scheduling a 300k so early!
• Why on earth would you put the 200k folks finishing up in the same room with the 300k folks trying to gird their loins for the last 100k? Just kidding, it was cool, but it did test my resolve! Good PBP practice.
• Great route idea of three 100k-ish loops all starting and ending at the motel. Perfect for drop bag convenience on a winter day.
• Fabulous food and drink plying.
• Great spirit of encouragement and conviviality!
• Thanks for keeping the potentially really nasty weather away. Looking back, I feel guilty for cursing the wind at one point when I ponder how bad it could have been.
• Marcello and his family were fabulous hosts who understood our needs and anticipated meeting them!
• I'm glad I've been doing my R-12.
• Even though it is February still, the frogs were making serious love calls all day and night.

Now my observations about the gentleman with the Peugeot pictured above:

• Duane first did PBP in 1995.
• He runs marathons all the time.
• He dances.
• He is a photographer.
• He is a great conversationalist concerned about the world and all others.
• He likes to savor.
• Duane did this 300k, and many other brevets, on his fixed gear bike.
• I was clever enough to ask Duane to ride the final 100k with me before I left that warm motel room and ventured out once more into that dark night.

Truly, Duane was a delight to ride with. I had heard tales of Duane, and had gotten the gist of those stories about how he often uses all the allotted time for each brevet. But like all stories, they capture some of the truth, but miss other pieces. The only real point of deviation between Duane and me--and we realized this on the drive back to our mutual hometown of Seattle from Newberg, Oregon--was that on this particular Super Bowl Sunday, he hailed from Wisconsin and I was from Pittsburgh! Ah well. Congrats, Duane, your Packers bested my Steelers this day, but thanks for riding into and out of the night together. That's what I love about randonneuring.

And for the record, I now have my 300k PBP Qualifier in the checked box!!

For a sampling of Duane's own ride reporting, here's a link to a 600k pre-ride report from ten years ago! Damn near pre-Internet days.

Thanks again, Marcello, Susan and all you Oregon Randonneurs for your hospitality! And, thanks, Duane, for your companionship!


Keep it qualifying,

CurioRando

R-12: We Did It!

If you hear something while reading the following text, don't worry it is only the incessant sound of me patting myself on the back.

In a previous post over a year ago I set out to win the Randonneurs USA R-12 Award, pictured above. The inspiration for the attempt came from a rider named Tom Russel from California who accompanied me at the end of my first ever 400k. Tom said that one of the best ways to get to Paris for PBP was to ride more and more consistently, and that in addition to cyclo-commuting, the R-12 was his ticket.

Because the R-12 is awarded for riding a 200k (or longer) brevet or permanent in each of any 12 consecutive months, it keeps you going. On that cold day in the winter when it's hard to get up, what gets you up in spite of yourself? R-12 does! You may curse R-12 as you're rolling out of bed, but R-12 does the trick.

And as I eventually learned, the more months you have invested the harder it is to give up. I actually had one start that I aborted in November of 2009 because I had a sinus infection. Having had just two months under my belt, is wasn't difficult to make that prudent choice. But once I had 8, 9, 10 months down, there was no way I was going to be deprived. So I planned, and stayed in touch with everything related to finishing one 200k each month: health, family and work responsibilities, weather, etc.

But really, the secret to my success was following Dr. Codfish's 10 tips published in the RUSA newsletter. You can do no better! As always, Dr. C puts it out straight.

For a peek at some of the rides that I counted toward my monthly 200k-or-better-ride (some were Brevets, others were Permanents) starting in Decemeber of 2009, select R-12 in the "topics" sidebar to the right.

But why do I say "We Did It!"? Because it is a whole family endeavor to fit in a 200k or more once/month. Much juggling to keep it going, going.... Thanks DartreDame and SingingCyclist!


Keep it going, going...,

CurioRando

Cycling into Christmas Day...and into India!

Was I nuts to ride a borrowed bicycle through the dark, strange streets of Bangalore with heavy traffic heading toward me on the "wrong" side of the road, and the real possibility of a milk cow, bullock or dog jumping into the mix? I don't think so. If anything happened, my riding companion was a brain surgeon after all!

Plus, every vehicle driver honks at least every 15 seconds, so I was never caught unaware of a single vehicle's presence!

Seriously though, I will confess to nervousness as I anticipated my first cycling in India. But as with just about all of the things we most fear, it's just not that bad. And in this case, I truly loved it!

I couldn't have had a better guide. Arvind Bhateja, pictured second from left above, happens to be a neighbor in DartreDame's parents' apartment building. He is also fast. He finished first in the first ever Bangalore brevet the week before (though this one wasn't ACP sanctioned, their upcoming one is!) in about seven hours. Told you he's fast. Arvind is also training for an upcoming Triathlon in Singapore.

Arvind is also very generous. Since I had no ride, he loaned me his Look 566 bicycle (after he made saddle and handlebar adjustments). And though I know he had planned to ride like the wind with his cycling pals (Roopak Suri is on the left and Mohan Kumar is second from the right), he hung with me instead.

Roopak lives in Delhi, and he too is very fast. He rides about 300k a week, I think he said. He is on the Delhi racing team. Mohan, again also fast, is newer to cycling, and he hails originally from Kerala, DartreDame's family's home state as well. My next trip to India, I hope we get to visit beautiful Kerala!

So what was the riding like? First off, you've got to visualize yourself as a corpuscle in the bloodstream. That was my strategy. You've seen those photos of cells going through an artery, right? All the corpuscles are individual, but they bob along despite obstacles and always squeezing through like one fluid unit. That was my vision from riding around in cars and auto rickshaws, and it worked for me on the bike.

In our case, we corpuscles departed before dawn so as to escape Bangalore Central prior to the arterial traffic rush. Christmas Day is an official holiday (residual from British times?), but most shops are open and traffic is still as congested, so leaving early was a good strategy. The challenge with that is seeing the road. You just can't assume the road is smooth, because it might be for a long while then...boom! There will be a deep, gaping hole. But I had taken my Ixon IQ light plus a helmet light, and I stuck to Arvind's wheel pretty tightly. And when the morning brightened, I knew I had endured the worst.

And as Arvind had planned we were nearing the outskirts as the Sun came up, and all was good. He pointed out the beautifully designed buildings at the high tech center called Electronics City. Big campus with gracefully carved, space age-looking buildings.

After we hooked up with Roopak and Mohan, we headed for the gate that sits on the border between the states of Karnataka (home to Bangalore) and Tamilnadu. The whole time we cycled on Hosur Road. And the road condition was actually great outside of Bangalore proper. It was about a 60k ride, roundtrip.

On the return we stopped for Chai Tea at a local roadside stand. That's where I took the photo below of Arvind's bike that I rode, and where a fellow traveler snapped the shot of the four of us above. I'm not a coffee drinker, so the cliched randonneuring coffee stops here in the Seattle area don't interest me, but if we had little Chai stands I'd be hard pressed to ride by without stopping. It was a sublime cup of tea, and with me cycling in India!

Then, entering back into Bangalore, the Sun really came out and so did the people. We passed by all kinds of shops just opening up. My favorite was riding by a meat stall with a butcher carving up a goat hanging from a hook just feet from us in the morning glow. It was Christmas morning, and I was cycling in India.

I wish I knew how to convey my love of India. All I can conjure up is that it is a present place, and I feel very much in the present there myself. I'm sure being on vacation and being held gently by family and friends like Arvind is part of it. I recognize that when I've been in India I've not been jammed for time between work and other demands. But still, I've vacationed other places too, and India and Indians are special. Cycling into India was beyond special! Thanks, Arvind, for your generosity.

A few other notes. Arvind's family founded a hospital in India. His wife, Anandita, is also a physician, and while we were there she ministered to the SingingCyclist's health as he recovered from a diarrhea and vomiting bout, to DartreDame and her sinus and diarrhea issues, and to Maya, Dartre's mother. She has treated lots of issues for building residents over the years, and for no compensation. She says simply: "Why have a physician in the building if you can't be cared for?" I also witnessed first hand as both Arvind and Anandita answered pesky medical phone calls from patients at all hours of the day and night without complaint. These examples perhaps get at part of the Indian spirit I cherish.

Now don't go thinking I was any kind of intrepid traveler cycling in India. Millions do every day. They typically ride Atlas or Hercules bicycles that are truly utilitarian. Built tough and heavy to last, they are everywhere. I got the impression though that serious road cycling for sport may not be viewed as such a revered thing since many regard the bicycle as a sign of the lower classes. That may explain why there are relatively so few sport cyclists. I asked Arvind whether he figured he knew all the sporting cyclists in Bangalore ( a city of 8 million residents), and he reckoned he did. And Bangalore has got the most robust cycling scene of any Indian city. With a country of over a billion people, talk about a potential audience for randonneuring and other sport cycling!

And of course I've already posted about one of the first cyclists in India. Remember Thomas Stevens?

And finally, see how visible I am in the photo above with my randonneuring reflective sash? I think I agree with (was it Jan Heine?) who said that reflective gear is more effective than lighting as for cyclists being seen. I really like my new Indian cycling pals; I do encourage them to consider seriously the complexities of being seen when cycling at night. This is one of the lessons I've learned from my nighttime randonneuring: you just can't overdo it, and reflective gear on the moving parts (legs and feet) go a long way.



Keep it present,

CurioRando