BiRaftathon: Bicycling and Rafting as One Event. Could this be YOU next year?!

Here's DarteDame (my wife Pramila) and me (CurioRando) in kayaks letting the Snake River carry us down into Hell's Canyon and into time and into geology and into beauty.

Sometimes I just have to pinch myself. How did I get here?

Back in 2000, DarteDame (aka Pramila Jayapal) published her book Pilgramage, One Woman's Return to a Changing India, and the then-Director of Fishtrap, a writers' retreat just a few mountains West of the Snake River, asked her to come teach writing.

Long story short, she ended up teaching writing in the Wallowa Mountains of Oregon at several Fishtrap workshops over the years. When Dartre and I started dating she took me to the Wallowas, a place she had guarded as her special getaway. It was a sure sign my charms were having their intended effect.

We all fell in love: Dartre, me, mountains, rivers, Steelhead Trout, family, bicycles. Out of that first trip of mine to the Wallowas, Dartre wrote a piece for Gray's Sporting Journal (available only by purchasing the magazine) about her first flyfishing adventure, the mountains and the Nez Perce Indians who were forced from this amazing valley.

As if that wasn't grand enough, we've been exploring the high valley by bicycle for a few years, and this year we went up and over the mountains into the next high valley (see previous ride report here). Fabulous.

But I got onto the Snake River this August in that yellow kayak purely by virtue of my utility as an enticement, or bait if you will. Fishtrap was inaugurating a new writers' workshop as a five day rafting trip down Hell's Canyon on the Snake River, and they told Dartre that if she would participate as one of the teachers that she could bring me along as her sidekick. WOWSER!

But before we get too far along in describing this trip of a lifetime, you need to know something that ties this all into bicycling. The rafting company that guided, protected, feasted, pampered, and challenged us has plans for a BiRaftathon (the name is my invention, so if it's too corny don't blame them!). A couple of the partners of Winding Waters River Expeditions, Paul and Penny, are bicyclists, and Paul asked right away, before we'd even begun this adventure, what Dartre and I thought about a future trip that combined rafting and cycling (Paul and Penny are cycling down the entire Oregon coast as I write this!).

The idea of the BiRaftathon is that cyclo-rafters would ride--perhaps the very route Dartre and I rode in the above mentioned post--to a spot where they would be met by the river guides to begin rafting. The bicycles would either be put on a raft as cargo or transported by truck to the rafting takeout. After rafting for several days, the cyclo-rafters would peel their butts from the raft tubes and ease them back onto their saddles for the last leg of cycling to finish off the trip. All the scenery would be first rate: as in some of the best rafting and cycling territory in the country.

The folks at Winding Rivers are friendly, hospitable and really tuned in to what makes a trip perfect for the clients. Our food was outstanding. All the gear was shipshape. The staff were casual and fun-loving, but not intrusive. We felt we were in excellent hands. And the partners of Winding Waters really seem to be into this notion of combining.

For our trip they combined writing and rafting. They organized a trip earlier this summer where they practiced Yoga each day with a Yoga instructor as they floated down the river. And of course this novel idea: the BiRaftathon.

So mull over the BiRaftathon idea as you check out our photos from our five days on the Snake River. And if you're only into rafting and writing (without the cycling), Fishtrap already has the dates for next year's writing/rafting adventure: August 18 - 23, 2010.

One additonal notion about place. There are many fine places to have fun, write, cycle, raft or stand on your head. But the Wallowa Valley and environs were, until 1877, Nez Perce country. It is a special place that deserves protection, respect and appreciation. If you aren't familiar with the Nez Perce story, here's a link to get you started. But do know that this is a special and poignant place.

I find it achey. Achingly beautiful and achingly painful to imagine the loss thrust upon the Nez Perce. That doesn't at all diminish the experience; it enhances it, and it clearly calls us to a higher, human place. That is the power of special geographic places. I may not attain that higher human place, but I do like to be reminded that I ought to strive for it.

And when you ponder place, you're coming awfully close to writing about place. Fishtrap, the writer's retreat and the other sponsor of our writing/rafting escapade, is a wondrous place for writing. The setting is the American West, and whether you join them for any of their periodic several days-long workshops (Summer and Winter Fishtraps) or Children's Lit Workshops or other programs you'll be changed. Place and the act of writing are transformative.

With that more than adequate preamble, check out the fun we had!

On river, I expected only wilderness or artifacts from the Nez Perce. Not so. Settlers tried to homestead the canyon, most without much success, but signs of their struggles are present. This photo is of a gate at the Kirkwood Ranch which is a fascinating museum about what that hard scrabbling life was like. Many settlers were driven into the harsh valley by the harsher Great Depression when they couldn't eke out a living among the rest of those above the canyon. So down canyon they went to give it a try.

There are sizeable trout, but I only caught Smallmouth Bass. They are a hoot. Very agressive and great fighters.

Columnar Basalt formations.

A settler's cabin. Fascinating tales of fighting over a sack of rice and such. Conflict and hard times galore.

This foundation wall is all that's left to mark the spot where over 30 Chinese gold miners were massacred in 1887. Though local folks were indicted, the jury of their peers convicted no one as the Chinese were not valued fully as humans. Sad spot as there was nothing to commemorate it. As if it hadn't ever happened.

Jon, one of our two intrepid guides.

Pictograph from ancient peoples. Plant dyes remain; understanding eludes us.

Morgan, our other intrepid guide and Winding Rivers partner.

Hell's Canyon Dam. Damn those Dams!

Patrick and John, captain and first mate respectively, of our gear boat. Heavy and tough to row. Thanks, men.

On river, we spotted a Black Bear cub, very reddish in color. Also Eagles, Osprey, Canyon Wrens, Deer, a couple of Western Rattlesnakes.


I scoured, and I mean scoured, the mountains for Big Horn Sheep or Mountain Goats. None. None.

On the drive back to Seattle, Dartre and I saw over 80 Big Horns along the Yakima River Canyon Road! And I captured this doe and her fawn eating the succulent shoots along the Yakima River. The fawn is belly deep. I'll bet she dreams about that day this Winter!

If rafting or cycling or writing or standing on your head entices you, we can't recommend Winding Waters River Expeditions enough. Of course they also do just rafting: on the Snake, the Salmon and the Grande Ronde Rivers (Steelhead fishing here also).

There are many adventures out there from which to choose.

Personally, as much as I love Steelhead fishing on the fly and boy do I love that, I think I dig the BiRaftathon idea the most right now.

Keep it afloat,

CurioRando

Recumbent Bicycles for Randonneuring, Interviewing John Vincent, Part 1: Eliminating Pain

Recumbent bicycles? What do I know? I've never ridden one.

I've seen them race past me, or more accurately charge ahead in a group start never to be seen again, by me at least. Except when it comes to those hills. Sometimes I catch one there.

But I do see them more often now, so I asked my randonneuring pal, John Vincent, to shine some light on the subject of recumbents. Who better than John, a newbie recumbent rider?

I met John on my first 200k this year, the Birkie 200k organized by the Oregon Randonneurs. John is also a member of the Seattle International Randonneurs. The day we met, a very soggy day indeed, John was still riding upright or diamond frame bicycles, and spent much of the brevet regaling me with this whole recumbent thing: the bike he was going to get. At the time, I was so focused on just figuring out the whole randonneuring thing I didn't focus on his recumbent obsession.

But let's hear about it from John who has just made the transition from an upright bicycle to a recumbent bicycle. What I think is most valuable about this interview is John's clarity about the choice to go recumbent. He is not what you might expect. He switched for a purpose, but he is clearly not one of those overzealous converts (I'm not just talking recumbents, I'm referring to all kinds of converts) who is on a mission to convert us.

He just tells it like it is. Refreshing, I think.

What follows is Part 1 of my two-part interview with John. Photos are of John on his new recumbent taken, I believe, by his wife Sandy. The second and final installment of this interview series, Recumbent Bicycles for Randonneuring, Interviewing John Vincent, Part 2: Builders, Relative Merits, Peering into the Future, is here.

After you've read his interview, check out this site about recumbent videos at the 2007 Paris Brest Paris that John suggested as a good resource.


Keep it reclined,


CurioRando

Eliminating Pain

CurioRando: How long have you been riding a bicycle?

John Vincent: 17 years. Since ‘92

CR: About how many miles a year?

JV: Between 5000 and 8000 miles/year.



CR: How many brevets or organized rides?

JV: A couple of 600’s. Went to Paris Brest Paris (PBP) and Glacier 1000, but didn’t finish either. I’ve done a bunch of 200’s, 300’s and some 400’s. Two Super Randonneur years. This is my third SR year.

CR: What do you like most about Randonneuring?

JV: I love the goals. I love the challenge. Love doing something that seems a little bit impossible…that scares me a little bit. I’ve done enough long rides to know that the more rides you do, the better you become.

I’m not really a great long distance rider. There are tons of riders who are truly skinny, long distance riders and who are just exceptional. So I’m just one of the duffers in the back who manage to finish most of my rides. I love the whole preparation. I like to obsess a little bit, it’s fun, and addictive. It is a challenge that an average person can accomplish. It’s part of my nature.

You have to really focus on this. It has to be more than a hobby. The commitment to do a long ride like a 1000k or PBP is just really over the top. It’s far longer than regular people normally ride. I love the whole thing about it. I find that without a goal I don’t really have a reason to ride on a rainy and cold Saturday morning. I think that’s what’s missing from a lot of people’s lives today. They don’t have a goal, don’t have a passion. I’m pretty passionate. I spend a lot of money on it. I don’t have a cabin or a boat. I have a bike. That’s what I do. That’s what I like.

CR: Planning to ride PBP in 2011?

JV: Oh, yes.



CR: I know you recently made the change over to a recumbent, why a recumbent and what got you going in that direction?

JV: I had an MRI on my shoulder a couple years ago that indicated I have Osteoarthritis. Over a period of time I had gotten to the point where every ride I was on was painful in my right shoulder. To top that off, I also have a case of Spinal Stenosis, and they were prescribing Vicodin. I’m just going to be honest about this: I’d be on a ride, and when my shoulder would hurt I’d take Vicodin. I was surviving that way. I’d literally be on a 600k ride and all of my effort went into pain management, not working my legs or my lungs. I was just trying to survive and hang in there, mostly with a lot of shoulder pain. I couldn’t sleep on a 600k. I’d doze for 20 minutes, toss and turn and get up finally, and go. But I couldn’t ever really rest.



CR: What is this diagnosis exactly?

JV: Spinal Stenosis. The kind of Stenosis I have is like an old guy you’ll see. Bones get bigger as you get older, and some of those bones that get bigger and thicker are your vertebrae. If your vertebrae close up a little bit, you’ll eventually have your toes go numb. If you see an old man in a three-wheeled motorized cart at Safeway because he can’t stand up straight or is bent over when walking…that’s what I have. At times, I can hardly walk. I just don’t walk very well. I can do basic things, but I can’t hike anymore. So a number of things are going on at the same time. While that wasn’t really painful, it was causing weakness in my legs. Serious weakness. All of a sudden when I got a recumbent I felt like I had a lot more strength in my legs. I don’t depend on my back as much to support it, and I don’t have any shoulder pain. It’s like a freeing experience. Anything over 15 miles, I’d start to hurt. For years I’ve endured it, and it’s kind of made it a slugfest on longer rides.



CR: Any particular recumbent riders inspire you to make this change?

JV: There was a change in recumbents about five years ago. There was this guy, Dave Karcher, who built carbon fiber recumbents. One of the things that had kept me away from recumbents was their weight. I just couldn’t envision myself riding a heavy bike. I could certainly afford to lose a lot of weight myself, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to go out and get a 25-30 pound bike. And I wanted something fast. I enjoy buying lightweight bikes. Even though I’m not fast, I didn’t want something to make me slower. So David Karcher came out with a carbon fiber recumbent he called a Carbent. He started manufacturing them, and he was a one-man operation. At the same time there was Bacchetta. Bacchetta produced a Carbon Aero and a Ti (titanium) Aero bike. They stopped making the Aero because (from what I heard) of supply problems. These were all high racer styled bents. High racers meaning that you’re sitting up above two normal-sized bicycle wheels when you ride. Plus you are significantly reclined.

I started watching some of the speeds and some of the comments of other riders. In the Northwest we have some incredible recumbent riders. One of them is Michael Wolfe. He is a member of Team Bacchetta and he has a Ti Aero and a Carbent. (Dana Leiberman bought David Karcher’s operation in California and he builds Carbents now down in Van Nuys California). Michael has shown that bents aren’t slow, and that they can climb. Further, at one point I realized my dream of owning a custom upright bike was gone as this pain wasn’t going away. You’re buying a Tony Pereira which is an awesome bike. (See previous post on CurioRando's next Randonneuring bicycle: a Pereira.) I considered a Pereira, but I realized there is nothing I could do on a regular bike without a certain level of shoulder pain, so I made the decision to step up to buy a carbon fiber recumbent bike. I bought a Carbent.



CR: Cool. What do you think are the recumbent advantages and disadvantages for randonneuring?

JV: One advantage is that over the long haul of a ride—this is not uncommon to hear—is the pain that you suffer in your body parts is only in your legs when riding a recumbent. I want all that pain to be in my legs. I don’t want it to be in my shoulders, my hands, my neck and my back. As a person feels more pain, more energy is put into staying comfortable and relieving pain.

On a recumbent there is only one kind of pain. Legs get a huge workout, but I have no pain in my neck, shoulder, hands. Some of the recumbent riders at PBP noticed that when they were 1000k into the event, they were passing riders on upright bikes who had passed them hundreds of miles before. This is because those upright riders were now dealing with various seat and neck problems.

Climbing is a challenge for me, but it has been said that when you can get your legs conditioned you can climb as fast as a seated bike rider. You just have to get used to it. I’ve got a long way to go on this regard. And then going downhill, riding into the wind, and riding on flat ground I’m faster. For me those are advantages for the long distance rider.

Then there have been examples of recumbent success: the four-man team on RAAM (Ride Across America) won this year on 23 pound aluminum recumbents. They beat all the other 4 man teams. Four guys in their mid to late 40’s beat all the diamond frames. They climbed as fast going over the Rockies as all the other bikes. They actually took over first place while going over the Rockies!



CR: Great. Let me ask you…

JV: Let me tell me about what I think is a problem with them. I’m pretty inspired about recumbents, and I’m a little defensive, internally, about recumbents, because I love upright bikes. It’s almost like I’ve had to go against my natural instinct toward upright bikes. Getting a recumbent is almost like moving from being a Boston Red Sox fan to a becoming a New York Yankees fan. I’m rooting for the other side or something. It’s a major change. People--I include myself--have a lot of basic prejudice against recumbents. Now the con side: at this point, I’m just not that fast uphill as I could be because I’m uncomfortable leaning back.



CR: You’re uncomfortable because you feel like you’re going to fall back over yourself or…?

JV: Your feet are up where your head is when you’re climbing. And you can’t use your upper body. On a regular bike I can fight, pull back, and scrabble with the handlebars. When I pull on the handlebars going up hill I end up all over the road. I have to separate my upper body from my lower body. I have to get it in a lower gear because I can’t use my shoulders and arms. So it’s going to take some time for me to stay relaxed and just lean back and push a lower gear. I sometimes feel like l’m upside down. It’s an uncomfortable position and it just doesn’t feel safe. But, I know that people get used to it. Some people say that drivers can’t see you and that‘s why people don’t like them, and I think that is part of why people don’t trust them. I just think that they’re just another form of transportation, and they are as safe as you want them to be. I try to ride defensively.



CR: Advice to those considering going recumbent?

JV: Well, I think there is a fellow up in Canada, David Cambon, and he made a good recommendation: get the lightest bike you possibly can. David has an excellent article about lightweight recumbents that can be found with a Google search. In the randonneuring world, typically carbon is not recommended for upright bikes. But if you’re going to go recumbent, shelling out the money to get a carbon fiber bike gets you a lightweight bike. There is a great deal of difference between a 25 pound bike and an 18 – 19 pound recumbent. I think that is big for any rider.

And then I think I heard a comment from John Kramer who was on the 400k brevet that you just rode on (see this previous post about the 400k per CurioRando), and he rode it on his recumbent. Kramer said “It may take a season." You don’t just hop on a bike as a whim and say this is good or bad. It takes a certain level of commitment to ride a recumbent successfully. I don’t expect to be fast on a recumbent, but I expect to be comfortable and I expect to finish, and it's taking me some time.

For a new person transitioning, give yourself time, maybe a season to improve. I figure I’m at about 80% there right now.



CR: Any realizations you hadn’t anticipated going recumbent?

JV: I didn’t realize the level of commitment that it’d take to become a good recumbent rider. I’d say I’m a much, much better rider now and I can hold a straight line. I can climb some hills, but when I look at the confidence of riding an upright, I look at a hill and I think: no big deal. I can shift into a little gear on an upright, and I can go up slowly, or I can go up in a bigger gear and work harder. On a recumbent there are some hills on which I lack confidence. On an upright I’m not intimidated by any hill. Getting to the point of looking at a hill and thinking it’s no big deal on my recumbent will take awhile. I still have some anxiety on a recumbent when I look at some steeper hills.



CR: Would you go back to an upright bike?

JV: Not anymore. I can’t do it. When I had my recumbent bike being repaired (See Part 2 of this interview where John details the car-bicycle accident he endured) I ‘d sit on an upright bike and go for a 15 mile ride. I wasn’t comfortable. I had such shoulder discomfort that after 15 miles it just didn’t feel good. There are all these pressure points that I had kind of forgotten about.

For me there is no turning back. When my recumbent is being repaired I ride my Glen Erickson singlespeed or my Eddy Merckx Titanium, and they are fine to ride but I just don’t feel the same. When I ride my recumbent I have no discomfort (laughing). Zero pain! So when I’m doing a 20-miler on my recumbent and I’m just doing a little lap around the community and back to the house, I just feel great. I ride faster and recognize its benefits. Sometimes I get into discussions with dedicated upright riders and they just roll their eyes at me.

Once I can stay on my bike and not get off on steep hills, and once I gain some of the confidence that I have on my other (upright) bikes, I’ll be fine. To me the advantage of a recumbent is you don’t have any of the things that distract: sitting on a saddle for 20, 36 or 40 hours tends to have its impact. I also know that my shoulders, neck, toes and hands don’t get numb. I don’t wear gloves any more. I don’t’ need padding from vibration. I hold my handlebars lightly. No weight is being applied there. For me it is a no-brainer: I make it on the recumbent or I don’t ride. There isn’t another way for me. It’s too nice a ride to go back to the pain I was having.

Ride Report: Mountain Passes of the Wallowa Mountain Loop, Oregon

UPDATE

FYI: The Wallowa loop road is currently closed due to washout from flooding! Repair is underway but is not open yet! For updates you can visit the Wallowa/Whitman National Forest web site to track repair progress and possible opening. This message thanks to an anonymous commenter below. Thanks!

(This is a joint post of DartreDame and CurioRando)

It started as a germ of an idea—as many crazy ideas do. Mary B., our friend in Joseph, Oregon, had told us that she biked to Salt Creek Summit for a ride a friend had organized for his birthday. 6100 feet up, it was a beautiful spot, just about 20 miles from Joseph. Our friend Rich told us that he had come at the Summit the other way, from Halfway to Joseph, as Day 5 of Cycle Oregon. The road from Halfway (Wallowa Mountain Loop) is only open from April to October. Running right through Hell’s Canyon Recreation Area, it is known as one of the premier scenic byways in all of America. “It kicked my butt,” said Rich to us with a proud smile, “But I did it! No sag-wagons here.”

And there it was.

The germ of an idea: Bike from Joseph to Halfway and back. We fertilized it by pulling out topo maps, tracing the route through a giant map, a route that seemed to go up, up, up, and then down, down, down…and then the same thing all over again. We added compost by researching good B&B’s in Halfway to stay overnight so we could do it over two days and wouldn’t have to carry gear. And then, the final touch—like adding a heat lamp to a growing garden. We committed. We decided we wouldn’t be too proud to hitch a ride back if we didn’t finish, but we were definitely going to give this a shot.

Day 5 - Halfway to Wallowa Lake

http://www.bikely.com/

The details of the trip: 75 miles each way, with three summits. About 4,600+ feet of climbing out to Halfway, elevation: about 2,600 feet. And then 75 miles back, with about 6,000 feet of climbing, back into Joseph, elevation: about 4,100 feet.  Here's a great link that shows the topography and the elevation profile for the route that's too big to load into the blog: www.vlmk.com/co2008/day5.pdf


Pedals ready?

Here’s our collage of images…

The world looks different on a bicycle. The whole way through, we didn’t see another bicycle on the road. Lots of hunters, motorhomes, SUVs, dogs, grouse, turkeys, hawks, quail, beautiful white moths, you name it, but no bikes. The views are completely different on a bicycle. You’re smaller and the grandeur around you is grander and larger. You see things you wouldn’t see in a car, and everything is far brighter.

Warm, tart, wild apples eaten right off the tree, just like it used to be for CurioRando growing up in Pennsylvania.

The road is dangerous for small critters!  The roadkill we saw included:  frogs, birds, grasshoppers, snakes (even a rattler), squirrels, rabbits. 

Vastness—big country, big hills, big plains, big valleys, BIG climbs, BIG descents. Surprises: coming to a downhill sooner than expected!  Or reaching the summit just when you thought you really needed to be done!

Patches of green stretching out in the horizon amidst brown straw.

Blue, blue skies.  Sunshine, warm on the face, hot on the arms.  Dappled light, snaking through the trees.

Lodgepole pines, some bowing, some in deep curtsy to the valley.  Ponderosa pines with pumpkin striped bark.

Snatches of flowers amidst rocky outcroppings: daisies, asters, purple thistles, some flower that’s orange on top and yellow on bottom, red and orange lichen. Small blue berries with beautiful green foliage.

Mysterious shadows on the rivers. Cooling, melodic water. Imnaha, Snake, creeks everywhere. Rushing water, eroded rocks, little waterfalls. 

Wind shuddering, whispering, chattering through the trees, whipping at us from front and too occasionally at our backs. One hard climb, it seemed like the wind was behind us for the first time, ushering us up the mountain, welcoming us to the top.

Realizing 30 mile descents are hard on the arms!

Switchbacks stacked up so that you can look straight down and see where you are going to be a couple of minutes and hundreds of feet later. Blessed switchbacks, because otherwise it would be straight up.

Always got a wave from a passing motorist if we waved first and only two cars the whole trip came a little too close for comfort. Most gave us a wide berth and it seemed like we had more respect on the mountains than we do around home.

So much more that can’t be captured in words or even pictures (and just an FYI: our pictures were taken on CurioRando’s cell phone camera to save weight so they’re not as sharp as we would like)…

Our top lessons from this trip:

1. Slow and steady wins the race. As Rich told us, there are no flats on this ride, just ups and downs. 2,000 and 3,000 foot sustained climbs over 18-30 miles was a new experience. It’s just about stamina and saving yourself. We didn’t tear up any hills. The most exertion all at once we expended was at the very end when CurioRando revved up and DartreDame drafted behind him all the way into Joseph, both of us pushing our limits for a grand finale.

2.  Love your Granny!  We used our granny gears a lot!  No shame there--they saved our knees and got us up the mountain.

3.  Carry your own water!  Campground maps and brochures lie.  According to those, there were five spots with water.  We found only one that was actually open.  Kind strangers gave us water and we were much obliged.

4.  Check your equipment.  CurioRando had two flats (the first pictured on top and the second just to the left) and discovered that his tires were completely worn through!  Just got lucky that the tire boot actually held up for the rest of the ride.

5. Trust yourself. What got us going was a belief that we might actually be able to do this, in spite of our fears and even though it was a completely new experience. CurioRando worried about his injuries, DartreDame worried about her fitness. But in the end, we trusted and we made it.

6. When in doubt, dunk. It may be tempting to ride by a little creek on a long, hot climb to get to the top. But it almost always pays to get your head wet, let water drizzle down your neck, even dunk your whole shirt in the river as DartreDame did! The whole world is better for the next half hour. This saved us on the long climbs up in the middle of the beating down heat.

7.  Talk to people you meet.  CurioRando got a great wolf story from the archery elk hunters (who were out from Coos Bay for a whole months!) who bugled in a pack of six or seven wolves.  "It's hard to believe how big a wolf is until you are 20 yards away," said one hunter.

8.  Massage.  When we got into Halfway, we had plenty of sore spots.

We gave each other massages and boy, did it help. Fresh as daisies the next day!

9. Recover and you get stronger the next day. We took Recoverite as soon as we got in, had a good night’s sleep and we actually felt stronger the next day. Knees, joints, everything seemed to work just a little more lubricated and determined than the day before.

10. Riding together strengthens our bond. We had a blast! Plain and simple. Enjoying each other’s company, supportively riding, taking in the new vistas around the corner. (And CurioRando even got DartreDame signed up to be a Randonneur now!) Maybe this isn’t always so, but it sure is our experience!

From Polluto-commuting to Cyclo-commuting

I don't commute by bicycle nearly often enough. Want to hear my excuses?

1. Logistics. I struggle with getting my act together enough to get ready.
2. Need my car at work. I have out-of-the-office meetings to which I can't cycle.
3. There is no number 3.

Pretty pathetic, eh?
I'll now debunk my own myths.

1. Get over the logistics. Commit. It gets easier. If I'm not committed, then I'll find a way so it doesn't happen.
2. Not true. It's not that I need my car at work, it's that I need to travel from my office to meetings sometimes. I often--not always--control when those meetings are. Light Rail is now available. I could cycle to Link Light Rail or cycle to most meetings. Just requires a little planning.
3. Uh, there aren't many reasons NOT to.

So, here is my commitment to myself and you. I say "you" since my driving my vehicle pollutes your world too so when I commit to reduce that driving I am also committing to you.
I pledge to work out a plan so that after Labor Day (little vacationing until then) I will have a solid commitment of how and by how much I will cyclocommute instead of pollutocommute.
Could be that on certain days of the week (Thursday & Friday?) I'll cycle. Or, that I'll drive no more than two days/week. Whatever it will be, I plan to make it manageable and a platform from which I can aspire higher. The intent is to succeed at this plan.
What's the impetus? I've been thinking about this for some time, but the added push was while on my Oregon Randonneurs Alsea Falls 400k Brevet, Tom Russell suggested regular commuting as good randonneuring prep. That is what is pushing me over this hump. I got alot from that brevet as I described in my post of same.
Did you know there is plenty of support for commuting by bicycle? In Seattle for instance, the Cascade Bicycle Club offers classes: everything from urban cycling skills and bicycle maintenance to commuting skills and programs tailored to youth and seniors. Bet you got the same support.

This photo and the graphic at the top of the post are both from the Cascade Bicycle Club Education Foundation link.
For further inspiration, go no further than Kent Peterson's Bike Blog. He drives no car. Just doesn't do it, and hasn't for a long time.
Keep it clean,
CurioRando

Update: see my specific commitment post here and two follow-up posts here and here.

Introducing SingingCyclist: I Wanna Hold Your Hand!

Question: Who sang this song most recently and in what unusual place?
"I wanna hold your haaaaand,
I wanna hold your hand!"

Answer: The SingingCyclist (aka DartreDame's son and CurioRando's stepson, otherwise known as Janak) as he descended 600 feet from a 4500 foot summit of the Zumwalt Prairie road in Joseph, Oregon!

Hi! I am the singing cyclist and you’ll soon find out why! I only just started biking in the last year or two and my longest ride to date was a year ago when I was 11 years old. That ride was a 25 miler (which was only that long by accident of my mom, DartreDame, getting lost) on a day that was about 100 degrees. And it was somewhat remarkable that I didn't get turned off completely given that mom hadn't packed enough water or sunscreen and I was only wearing sandals. Yes, it did take a while to finish...six slow but steady wins the race hours!

So, this year, while spending glorious time up at our little cabin in Joseph, we decided to try again. First we tackled a 20 mile ride that did a lovely loop around Joseph and back up the back way on Hurricane Creek road. It was hard not to be inspired by the beautiful scenery: tall craggy mountains, green patches stretching out into the landscape, vultures swooping down, hawks gliding above.

Our little loop turned out to be only 18 miles, but I was determined to do 20! As a result, we cycled up and down the streets of Joseph town numerous times to reach our goal of magic 20 miles. I was proud but fairly tired.

The bicycling bug had bitten me! The next day, I insisted we go out again for a 30 MILER!!! And this time with a hill. And not just any hill. The Zumwalt Prairie hill, the same one that even DartreDame (my mom) had trouble with her first time. But I was determined. We rode up to the hill and started chugging up it! I was singing (hence the name) constantly as I climbed it, so my mom finally asked me "don't you want to conserve your energy?" I said OK... And then started singing the next minute!

Finally we reached the top। Yay! My personal best climb!

And then the infamous "I wanna hold your hand!!" as we flew down। When my mom caught up to me and asked me how I was doing, I replied "king of the world, wind in my face!" I felt good!



We biked along Eggleson Road out to Hurricane Creek Road. Whoah! A deer carcass! Some car had hit it and then moved it to the side of the road. But we still saw it! It was wild! Once again, I added more to our ride, and this time we went to the 5 mile away town of Enterprise. Hurricane Creek Road from Enterprise to Joseph is a gradual but continuous and very hard (for me) climb (500 feet, 8 miles, and at the end of the ride).

This time, when DartreDame asked me how I was doing I replied "nemesissing," referring to her telling me that this climb had been her nemesis for a couple of years before. (That came from when she and CurioRando biked from Joseph to Enterprise and back to get groceries to make pumpkin pie one freezing cold, snowy, icy and incredibly windy Thanksgiving Day a couple of years back.)

When we got back to Joseph, I was the two P's: proud and pooped :).

I really didn't think I could do any more than 30 miles ever! The next day was a virtuous rest day. We did nothing! But that didn't last long. Soon we were hungry for more! So we decided that after that day of rest, we were ready to try biking to Lostine and back, a town we estimated was about 15 miles away for a total of 30 miles again.

On the way out, we saw signs that said Lostine was further than we thought.

Uh oh.

We kept going but I was a little discouraged. My legs were tired from the other rides and it was only the beginning. I could tell my mom was already worried. She said we could always ask our friend Paul (who lives in Lostine) to give us a ride back if I was too tired. Although I insisted I could bike all the way, I was secretly thinking about the offer.

By the time we reached Enterprise, it was already 10 miles and we still had 10 miles to go—that meant a 40-mile ride roundtrip if we could make it! And I was determined again!

We made it to Lostine and I wasn't too tired, just hungry! Paul had an answer for that. Peanut butter and honey sandwiches and sweet Imnaha corn and cold green tea Snapples! He even played guitar for us and gave us a tour of his great garden. What a great stop!! It got me all ready for the ride home!

We stopped at the Blue Banana in Lostine for pictures. It is a cute-as-a-banana smoothie shop but we were so full from our sandwiches and corn that we decided we would have to come back some other time to try the smoothies and roasted nuts.


This time, the ride home seemed fine! Even the hill coming back wasn’t so bad and I didn't nemesis that much!





Once again, by the time we got to Joseph, we still needed a couple of more miles to make 40 and I insisted! So my mom took us up yet another hill to Old Chief Joseph's grave site। This was a hill that I did last year and it was really hard back then! It was hard again for sure but not as hard and I did it! We sat up at the top on the wall at the gravesite in the shade of the big tree and did high fives!







The way down was a blast! We flew down the hill and ended with a total of a 41 mile day!

All told, we did a total of 90 miles over the course of 4 days! I was really proud and happy and ready to bike some more! I told DartreDame and CurioRando that I want to do a half century this year and hopefully by next year, be ready to do a full century!

The Ultimate Randonneurs: Flying Pigeons

They play by slightly different rules, but Pigeons return home at 60 mph, almost never get lost, and can navigate like nobody's business. I know this by listening to a local radio program where they interviewed Andrew Blechman, author of Pigeons: The Fascinating Saga of the World's most Revered and Reviled Bird.

According to Blechman, Pigeons navigate by the sun and stars. But if you blindfold them, they navigate with other, more mysterious tools. One, apparently is ultrasound. He said they can hear, via ultrasound, the wind rushing over the rockies from 2000 miles away! They also steer by sensing the Earth's magnetic field.
They don't stop to flop down for naps. They don't stop to eat or drink. They'll go 24 hours at 60mph until they find home. Sunspots do screw with their navigating, but otherwise they just rocket.

To hear a podcast of the KUOW radio showon Blechman and his book, go here. A review of Blechman's book can be found in the New York Times.




Many cultures admire the Pigeon, or Rock Dove. In fact, the ubiquitous bicycle in China is the Flying Pigeon according to Wikipedia. It reminds me of the Atlas and Hero bicycles we saw all over India.





And finally, how about a YouTube video of that famous Flying Pigeon bicycle of China?

The Pigeon pictures are from Amazon (top) and Wikipedia (bottom).

Keep it going home,


CurioRando

I Went to the Town Hall Meeting on Health Care and Found...a High Wheeler!

On the way to the Town Hall Meeting in Longview, Washington the other day, I didn't quite know what to expect. What I found when I got there was a very polite crowd and a good public dialogue.

What I found on the way down was my favorite secret obsession: a high wheeler. We stopped in Centralia at the Country Cousin resaurant (where they serve Yak meat, right in Centralia, Yak meat!), and there hanging from the rafters was an old high wheeler.

I believe it is a real one from back in the day. I tried to take a few photos without causing a stir, but I'm afraid I was still a bit of a spectacle.

Anyone know what kind?

Isn't it great that a bicycle is a prop for old-timiness ambiance setting? Who doesn't like an old bicycle?

Keep it hangin' (or is it better not hangin' and rather ridden?)

CurioRando

Dog Chases Cyclist...Let's Call it Sporting, But a Cougar?

Fair warning:

Don't share this with anyone who is concerned about your cycling safety.

I don't like being chased, hairy eyeballed, or even barked at by a dog any more than the next cyclist. And while it can be dangerous to woman/man and beast, it is at least sporting. The dog can only go so fast, and they're bored because nobody plays with them. We cyclists at least shouldn't be surprised; we're cycling right into their territory.

But being stalked by a cougar. Did somebody change the rules of the game here?

This Seattle Times story tells about how mountain cyclist, Brian Klass, thought he was being stalked by a dog only to discover on dismounting that it was a cougar!

Stop. Think about that a second. Can you imagine it? He said it seemed to be in "hunting mode" and came within six feet.

Now I'm guessing he may be exagerating here. Six feet is close. Let's assume his adrenalin is coursing and it is double that: 12 feet. Can you imagine that?

A few days later we learn from another Seattle Times story that a rancher in the Leavenworth, Washington area where the cougar had been stalking, shot and killed said cougar while it had a pig snout in its jaws.

Stop. Imagine shooting a cougar in your pigpen when it has your pig's snout in its jaws.

Too much for me. Just this week I posted about how I ran over what might have been a weasel and had a bobcat cross my path during my 400k. I kind of thought those two encounters were kind of interesting.

If you're out there Brian Klaas, I'm offering you a free post if you'll "tell all" about your close encounter of the cougar kind. For that matter, Mr. Rancher, same offer to you.

Both photos courtesy of Wikipedia.

For a more in-depth story about a variety of encounters with the same cougar prior to the pig incident see this Seattle Times story.

Secret confession: though my Bobcat sighting was my second ever, I've yet to spot a cougar (seen cougar tracks in snow) and I'm just dying to. Er, I mean I'd love to...someday.

Lastly, if you'd like some fascinating reading about a huge variety of cyclist-critter encounters and other wild things that cyclists happen upon (nude couples well, coupling, for example) check out the Fat Cyclist's post and his 144 comments.

Keep it out of your pigpen,

CurioRando

Power of Compassion Broke the Cycle of Vengence Today

Scottish Justice Secretary Kenny MacAskill

I have been noodling for a little while about a post I might write some day about a belief I share with many others that acts of altruism or compassion are not simply expressed and then lost. It is the belief that these acts of compassion or selfless kindness feed a reservoir that promulgates or spurs further acts of altruism. I had hoped to illustrate the point with some randonneuring examples.

I was planning to write about how I tested a corollary to this theory in my college Research Psychology class thirty years ago. The short version is that we approached strangers on the street and asked for directions and variously reinforced them. We found a difference, though not statistically significant, and of course our methodology was suspect. The idea, however, that altruism begets altruism stuck with me.

I was planning to draw this together with randonneuring by telling of a few unselfish gestures. The first is when the randonneur I'd been riding a few shorter brevets with told me I should not ride with him on my next longer brevet: my 400k attempt. John Vincent told me that he'd slow me down, and that I should ride with others so as to increase my chance of success. Riding with him, his logic went, decreased my opportunities.

It is a small thing in the scheme of the world, but it touched me: his generosity.

Then when I attempted my first 400k and ended up riding with another new acquaintance, Tom Russell, I could tell Tom was hoping to finish in under 24 hours. And given his pace, he'd have had no problem. As I reported in my Oregon Randonneurs Alsea Falls 400k Ride Report, Tom chose to hang back with me and my slower pace instead even though he knew he'd finish in more than 24 hours.

Is this a big deal? Not really, but it touched me again. In the race for time and accomplishment today, it is refreshing when someone steps back from these expectations to just lend a hand. The question then is will I extend their acts to fellow randonneurs as they have done. I can only say I hope to.

So as you see, these examples didn't add up to a complete post so much as a notion I'd been noodling.

Then today when I heard Scottish Justice Secretary Kenny MacAskill's statement about his releasing the sole person convicted of the Lockerbie bombing on grounds of compassion, I felt compelled to post.

After a nearly endless cycle of cries for vengeance in so many circumstances all around the globe, I was hearing on my radio a departure from vengeance and opening up to compassion. And not with bashfulness or apology. Kenny MacAskill called upon the Scottish people's heritage of honoring humanity and openly called upon Scottish values of compassion and mercy.

I couldn't believe my ears it was so extraordinary.

Here are his concluding remarks:

“Scotland will forever remember the crime that has been perpetrated against our people and those from many other lands. The pain and suffering will remain forever. Some hurt can never heal. Some scars can never fade.

“Those who have been bereaved cannot be expected to forget, let alone forgive. Their pain runs deep and the wounds remain.

"However, Mr Al Megrahi now faces a sentence imposed by a higher power. It is one that no court, in any jurisdiction, in any land, could revoke or overrule. It is terminal, final and irrevocable. He is going to die.

“In Scotland, we are a people who pride ourselves on our humanity.

“It is viewed as a defining characteristic of Scotland and the Scottish people.

“The perpetration of an atrocity and outrage cannot and should not be a basis for losing sight of who we are, the values we seek to uphold, and the faith and beliefs by which we seek to live.

“Mr Al Megrahi did not show his victims any comfort or compassion. They were not allowed to return to the bosom of their families to see out their lives, let alone their dying days. No compassion was shown by him to them.

“But that alone is not a reason for us to deny compassion to him and his family in his final days.

“Our justice system demands that judgment be imposed but compassion be available.

“Our beliefs dictate that justice be served, but mercy be shown.

“Compassion and mercy are about upholding the beliefs that we seek to live by, remaining true to our values as a people. No matter the severity of the provocation or the atrocity perpetrated.

“For these reasons - and these reasons alone - it is my decision that Mr Abdelbaset Ali Mohmed Al Megrahi, convicted in 2001 for the Lockerbie bombing, now terminally ill with prostate cancer, be released on compassionate grounds and allowed to return to Libya to die.”

Click here to watch Secretary MacAskill's full statement.

Then this evening I had dinner with several of my wife's Indian relatives. When I asked them whether they had heard MacAskill's statement, we got to discussing death penalty cases and how they are viewed. One of them said that he believed that everyone, by being human, has the capacity to change. Even those who have committed evil acts are not themselves evil. Each of us has the capacity to change. If we don't believe that, where does that leave us?

Driving home from dinner I heard another radio show: about non-violence and Martin Luther King and Gandhi. One of King's followers talked about the absolute requirement that to succeed in their campaign against racism and unjust laws they had to sincerely listen to their foes and even love their foes, all of them. She talked about how she led them in a song and added a verse about loving "even Bull Connor" the infamous "member of the Ku Klux Klan, and a staunch advocate of racial segregation" according to Wikipedia. If they didn't believe in their foes' capacity to change, then non-violence fell in upon itself.

A powerful set of insistent truths for one day.

I am awed by Kenny MacAskill's commitment to the truth that we all deserve compassion. It is consistent with Gandhi's Satyagraha or "insistence on truth". The thing that is startling is that while we were all taught about compassion and the Golden Rule as children, living by such a seemingly simple dictum is rare and hard. Kenny MacAskill reminded us that while it is hard, it is possible as individuals and as peoples.

Thank you for indulging a not-so-randonneurish post. I have simply been inspired by compassion and selflessness both big and small. And I believe that small leads to big.

Keep it, give it,

CurioRando