Category Archives: Biking

Cranksgiving 2011

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Friday night, Anne and I joined Captain Don and DJ for dinner and a show. Dinner was at Cyrano’s and was served with extra whip cream. The show was the Rep’s “God of Carnage”. By Yasmina Reza, this was the Rep’s second production of one of her plays. “Art” was the first of her plays to be performed. When I saw “Art” for the first time, it seemed like déjà vu all over again. A three actor play, I’ll call the three characters, Chris, Bob and Mark, not that they remind me of anyone in particular. In the play, Chris shows Bob and Mark a new painting. The painting is an almost completely white canvas. Mark assails it, “That’s not art. It is just a white piece of shit.” Bob is more conciliatory and tries to reconcile the differences between the other two characters. It is funny how sometimes art reflects life.

“God of Carnage”, Ms. Reza most current work, won the Tony in 2009. Set in the present, in Brooklyn, two couples meet to discuss the fight that has occurred between their two sons. One child has broken two teeth of the other one. The evening begins civilized, but quickly devolves from there; quickly, as in one ninety minute act. The play reminded me of Edward Albee’s “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” Except that “Carnage” is a comedy and only the darkest of souls could see Mr. Albee’s play as funny. That being said, both plays star two newly met couples, all of the action is set in one living room, and both play’s evenings begin amicably, but soon turn unfriendly. Albee proceeds to have his characters bloodily eviscerate each other through the course of the evening. While, Reza play’s her strife for laughs, the signs of her scalpel are still evident. The objective of her razor wit is not the individual characters’ psyche or souls, but that of the entire middle class.

Saturday, I woke-up with a sore-throat and didn’t do much more than read the complete works of Calvin and Hobbes (unabridged). Thank you, Jane! And watch schlocky Netflix movies on my iPhone, on the couch, under two blankets, at least until the phone’s battery gave up the ghost. Last night’s fevered dreams, fueled by a combination of Calvin and schlock, made for a restless night.  Meanwhile, über woman, my wife, biked 21 miles, to give her 2001 miles for the year. Cue the kettledrums. Saturday night, she went to go see the play, “A Raisin in the Sun”, at the high school.

By Sunday morning, I felt better. Well enough that Anne and I launched out the door for Cranksgiving, part bike ride, part food drive. We biked 25 miles, our route taking us by multiple grocery stores. We stocked up on can goods, Anne in her backpack and me in my messenger bag. We had done this charity ride in 2009, so we knew all of the ropes. Skip the expensive stores, like Straub’s, go light at the early stops and then stock up with canned meats near the end. Spam, Spam, Spam, tuna fish, Spam, Spam, Spam … Schlafly’s Bottleworks was start/ending point for the ride, so a wee bit of libation was involved after the ride. It was a great day to ride. The weather cooperated. It was one last chance to reconnect with friends, before winter sets in. Afterwards, we had lunch at Foundation Grounds, in Maplegood.

O’ Captain, My Captain!

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Don, Captain of Team Kaldi’s, called today. How about a bike ride? Sure! He rode over to the house and we both departed towards the Park. Anne, still under the weather, was left to her bike widowhood. We met Marty, another Kaldi’s team member at the Forsyth entrance to the Park and rode with him to the Science Center. Stew and Nancy passed us going the other way, and turned around to say hello. Don and I wended our way back through the Park and stopped at the DeMun Kaldi’s for a little something. I followed him back out Clayton Road to Geyer, before I turned back towards home. All this while, a running dialogue ensued. We tried to solve all of the problems of the world, but decided in the end that if we did that there would be a lot people put out of work. So we left things as they were, sorry world. I took Litzinger Road home, which had even less traffic than Clayton, on a Sunday afternoon. In the end, I got 23 miles to Don’s 40ish.

That was some ballgame last night. I’m speaking of the Card’s game, but I could just as easily be speaking of Michigan State’s Hail Mary ending football victory over the vaunted #3, Wii Badgers. The Cardinals in general and Albert Pujols in particular rocked Arlington, Texas last night, to the tune of 16-7. Saint Louis is just giddy with itself today. History tells us that most teams that find themselves up 2-1 go on to win the World Series. The road team is 21-7 in the last 28 Series when it has broken the tie. This may sound like heresy, but I don’t want the Redbirds to sweep the Rangers in Texas. I want them to come back to Saint Louis to clinch the title. Fox does too. We saw one of their blimps practicing downtown today, while in the Park. It would be nice to see the Cardinals win tonight. After all, the Rams are playing their part as the sacrificial lambs. But like almost every inning played so far, the Cards get out to a lead and the Rangers come right back. I wouldn’t be surprised if tonight’s game reflects this give-and-take and the Rangers tie it up again. Still, go Cards!

In Mount Tamelpais’ Shadow

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A new bike is better then a new car, because a new bike you can not only have, you can also hold. A new bike is like a new baby, you can pick it up, you can cradle it in your arms and you can lovingly care for it. A new bike though is no substitute for a lover, because its hard unyielding frame only rewards your passion with pain.

I first saw the bicycle on Monday. It sat there through the rain on Tuesday and by Wednesday; I began to wonder if anyone still owned it. It was a red Schwinn, already old when I first saw it. Its once bright red paint was now flecked with pitted spots of rust red. It was a single speed tank, with a coaster brake and big balloon tires. It was my first love, my baby and at age fourteen way more useful than a car.

My mom bought it for me and I rewarded her generosity by speeding down the street and then at the corner disappearing out of sight. I was free, I had mobility, and I could travel. I first stuck with the subdivision’s streets, but then coaxed my mother to bike with me out on a side road off the main valley road. It was cool that day, so I remember wearing my even newer, padded white cloth jacket as I rode. Young and newly flushed with testosterone, I quickly sped out of sight. On my own in unfamiliar climes, I was in paradise. That is until trouble began. A couple of similarly aged punks, from a different school, jeered at me as I rode by them. I paid them no mind, but maybe, my white new jacket, my bicycle and my probably too haughty demeanor proved too much for them. As I rode past them, they shot me in the back.

Mind you, I was not physically hurt. This was the 1960s and the Red Rider BB gun of the day was not near as powerful as it is today, plus I had my padded white cloth jacket on. I rode on, but eventually circled back and they were gone by then. I must have felt traumatized and likely bawled like a child, because I only remember afterwards my mother’s outrage and the county sheriff being called to the house. He was left with the dubious task of finding a couple of punks in the woods, but maybe he already knew where to look.

We left Marin County, CA not long after. My dad was still in the navy and we were transferred to DC. Although I hiked the cow paths, the prototypical single path all the while in Marin, I never biked them. And even though I owned at that time the prototypical mountain bike, I never took it off-road. Not too far away, at the south end of the county, Gary Fisher and his ilk were pioneering mountain biking on the slopes of Mount Tamelpais.  I do not feel ashamed for missing out on what was going on back then, but I do wistfully wish that I had been more a part of it.

The unrelated photo with this post was supplied by my newly retired friend, Barbara and her husband, Steve. I think that they both need a new tamden.

Team Kaldis Friends

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I’ve not much to say today, so let’s let these pictures to all of the talking instead. I’ve collected a few photographs here of some of our Team Kaldis friends, from this year’s MS-150 bicycle ride.

The Century Route

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One of the controversies that erupted this last weekend, between me and my riding/life partner, revolved around Saturday’s century option. On Saturday, Anne rode the 75 mile route of this year’s MS-150 bike ride and I rode much of that route with her. At about mile 20, I peeled off and took the extra loop that comprised Saturday’s century option. In a perfect world, this extra loop would have run another 25 miles, but this is the real world, so things don’t always work out that neatly. Sometimes a century route is a few miles over a hundred and sometimes it is a few miles under. When you ride a century you just have to realize that your mileage may vary. Saturday’s was a few miles under, so by the end of the day, I ended up with only 95 miles instead of the proscribed 100 miles. I’ve written this post not to defend my fragile ego, but because this is the first century that I have ridden in many years. Circular logic works, because circular logic works.

Frankly, I was a little relieved, having caught this modicum of slack. I was also surprised that I caught up with Anne as quickly as I did. Maybe it was this mutual sense of surprise that helped to spark the subsequent controversy. Riding together again, we exchanged news of what we had seen and done on our solo sojourns. It was at this point that the supposed mileage discrepancy first became an issue. Somewhat defensively, I took the tack that I rode the century route, thereby transferring the onus onto the MS Society, whose route it was. I subsequently learned that the MS Society had their bases covered, because while Saturday’s century route was only 95 miles, Sunday’s was 105 miles. You see how these things sort themselves out?

As the remaining miles clicked away a certain repartee developed between Anne and I. She continued to contend that I had not ridden a full century and I continued to contend that I had ridden the century route. I took exception when she chose to characterize my ride as century like, or worse, century lite. I tried to use the comparative analogy of fruit juice and fruit drink. Fruit juice is made from 100% fruit, while a fruit drink comprises only some subset of its content from real fruit, like 95%. I don’t think that my analogy really worked and it definitely didn’t help my case. Switching to grades, I pointed out that a 95% is an A just like 100%, while 75% is only a C. Anne pointed out that 100% is actually an A+. At this point, I decided to cut my losses and return to my century route argument. This whole, so-called, controversy was really just a tempest in a teapot, and it did help us pass, actually quite congenially, those last few miles. In retrospect, the whole question is rather moot, since we both all too willingly bailed, on Sunday to the short, 41 mile route. Plus by splitting up, Anne got to ride at her pace, without all my usually chivying and chafing, and I got a chance to cut loose. I call this a win-win situation.  

MS-150 Roundup

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Anne is running the electric car east, towards Saint Louis, while I write this post via iPhone. We’ve just completed another MS-150, together. First off, we would both like to thank all of our sponsors, without whose help; our efforts would be in vain. Speaking of efforts, donors, I think that you got your money’s worth. I argue this, before I’ve presented the facts of the case, but that’s just me.

The MS-150 bike ride is supposed to be a 150 mile bike ride over two days. In past years, they would go from point A to point B and then back again. Occasionally though, the remnants of a hurricane would sweep in, typically on a Saturday night and leave 2000+ riders stranded 75 miles from their cars, with a day long driving rain in between. These events, while not prevalent, were also too common to ignore. The MS Society decided to move their ride to Columbia, site of MO’s U of M. In Columbia they adopted an out and back approach, so you were never too far from your car. Anne started joining me on these rides and the years continued to roll by. I’ve done the MS-150 at least a dozen times and Anne has done at least a half a dozen times.

I started off riding by myself. I also rode once with Bob, but since then I’ve always ridden on a team. I started with Team TWA, because some of my CDC friends were already on it. This led to piña colada night, which attracted women throughout the motel, but by the time that the lights went out, I was left in a room with two queens and three other guys. The next year I bolted to the Boeing team, but the year after that Don formed Team Kaldis and the rest is history. Anne joined the team, because A) she was tired of being a bike widow, B) she saw what nice people were on the team and what great parties that they threw, C) or that she still wonders about that piña colada night, D) all of the above.

Let’s get back to the present now. Today, Anne and I rode 41 miles. That puts our weekend mileages at 116 and 136 respectively. Not quite 150 miles, but still pretty respectable. Thank you, Donors!