Dale Rides Her Bike

36 Times Around the Sun

2015-06-06T22:00:00.000-04:00

Today is my birthday! 36 rides around the sun.

To celebrate, I went out for a ride, intending to hit the 40 mile mark. Within the first 10 miles, however, I knew I should have just turned around and went back. I was NOT feeling it...

I spent most of the morning just putzing around, taking an hour to change an inner tube, finish some leftovers from a few nights before and then get dressed. I applied a healthy dose of sunblock and finally got going around 1 or 2 pm... Whenever. Obviously, I was stalling because I was not in the mood for this ride. But, I did it anyway.

I was just outside Wilkes-Barre, heading through Plains when I felt I was making a big mistake -- I was exhausted. I couldn't get enough air, my legs were burning, I was already cutting into my glycogen reserves. In short, I was in bad shape, and it was only going to get worse.

"Whatever... just power through it," I thought. "I'll regret quitting more than I'll regret the pain I'll be in."

I could blame the estrogen and the testosterone blocker, because that would be easy. For one, the testosterone blocker is keeping me from building muscle. Every stroke of the pedals rips another fiber, raises the heart rate and burns calories and glucose. As we know from athletic medicine, the body will consume muscle if it can't get anything else. Every time I push hard, I'm consuming more muscle mass. But there's a way to counter that... It's called "eating right," which I definitely did not do this morning.

I had about 3 or 4 ounces of leftover steak from dinner a few nights before and what was left of a baked potato -- mostly just the skin. That's like, what, 200-300 calories? That's not enough, especially when you're riding a distance that normally burns through 1300 to 1400 calories. Yeah, I felt awful.

So, the moral of the story is, eat a healthy breakfast that consists of the right foods and bring something along to keep your glycogen levels up, or you will be sorry. How sorry? Well, muscle cramps and spasms are not fun, I can tell you that. Generally speaking, if you're not feeling good in the first 10 miles, the next 30 are not going to be any better, and you are going to be in sorry-ass shape long after you get back. Believe me... I've had a nap, eaten some good food, done everything I can to recover in the hours since I got back. I still feel awful.

One last moral: UV radiation ain't nothin' to mess wit'. The estrogen has done WONDERFUL things for my skin. I no longer get breakouts on my face, I'm soft, my skin is light and pale... it almost glows. It also gets damaged by the sun in the blink of an eye.

I used to go for hours and hours without sunblock. I would burn a little, but nothing that ever seemed overly serious. Now... heck, 1 hour is enough to turn me red and burn me pretty badly. It's not good, so I've become very rightly concerned and now use SPF 100 sun screen. Even if you're not on hormone replacement therapy, wear sunblock. Skin cancer is serious business.

In closing, happy birthday to me! As I said on Facebook, I really didn't think I was going to make it to 36 -- it got THAT bad before I realized I HAD to come out and live as my authentic self.
Since then, however, coming out and transitioning has been the best thing I have ever done for myself. It really did save my life. I would not be here, otherwise. As they say, it gets better, and it definitely did! Here's to another 36!

On A Training Ride for the American Cancer Society's 2015 Endure for the Cure

2015-05-16T14:00:00.000-04:00

This morning, I woke to the sound of rain. It had been raining all night, but the forecast called for a mostly dry day. I remained confident that it would be.

I pulled my Giant Defy 5 out of the closet and began doing maintenance -- degrease/lube the chain, remove the rack and change out the tubes. The tubes were nearly 2 years old; It's been a while. Once I was satisfied with the work and pre-flight inspections, it was time to taker her out. Well, not yet; it was still raining.

Finally, right around 10 am, the sky cleared and the rain stopped. Wow! An accurate forecast? Cool. Time to fly...

My goal for the day was to get in at least 30 miles. It's been a while since I've done a stretch like that. Last year, when I was trying to kill myself, I was doing 2 loops of the levee system -- one in the morning, one in the afternoon -- for a total of about 28 miles or so every day for a few weeks. Then I slowed down and spent more time enjoying the ride rather than trying to get hit by traffic. It was a nice change, but it also mean that I was riding a lot less. A couple times a week, here and there, whenever I felt like it.

Well, since getting on board to ride in the ACS Endure, I've switched from a moderate, "casual" pace, to something a bit more crazy. I'm riding to beat the devil, as they say, but I'm not racing against myself, I'm racing to get into shape for this 62 mile ride I'll be doing in August. So far? I think I got this.

I didn't bring a bottle of water, food or anything -- which was incredibly foolish, I admit. But the course I rode is pretty flat -- relatively speaking -- so it was really just up to keeping my stamina up. I needed to know how far I could go before I got into trouble. Had the estrogen changed my body chemistry so much that I couldn't ride at least 30 miles? Had the lack of testosterone sapped my strength? The answer is, "No." It clearly hasn't. I felt just as strong and able as ever.

By the time I got home, I actually considered going a little further, just to see if I could push the total even higher. But I backed out. I didn't want to exceed myself, especially since I no longer knew where my wall was. Besides, I can always save that challenge for another time, and there will absolutely be another time.

Eventually, my goal is to ride this route again but include the ride up the Coxton hill. Everyone hates Coxton. It's sick. By the time I reach the top, I want to vomit. This mass of twists and turns of almost vertical roadway is extremely well-known throughout the cycling community. It's the mountain everyone wants to be king (or queen!) of, simply because of its legendary difficulty. At some point, if I'm serious about training for this, I'm going to have to Coxton. I just don't know when. Maybe next Saturday? We'll see...

https://www.strava.com/activities/305743228

In Memory of A Friend Who Lost Her Life to Breast Cancer

2015-05-14T10:12:00.000-04:00

This morning, I was a little later than usual in getting started on my morning routine.

Going through personal issues, financial problems, car trouble, relationship issues... wondering what it's all about... It's just been a rough week. The most distressing thing, though, was learning of a friend's passing last night, after a long, painful battle with cancer.

What's the point of it all? Why do we even bother? We struggle so hard for so little, only to have it all taken away. Why? I don't know; I don't have the answers. So I just sat there. I've been knocked down before, but this time, I really didn't want to get back up.

And then I did.

I got up for all the reasons I've gotten up before. I got up because it's a new day, with new challenges, and another chance to continue the fight. And I guess I just enjoy the fight too much. Besides, I'm kind of a sore loser. But, really, I got up because I was inspired by another's strength to keep fighting against the odds. I was inspired by a very powerful figure in my life who's gone now.

Sherry Buller was a very good friend of my mother -- they grew up together in Swissvale, PA -- so she knew me before I was born, in a way. She was kind and sweet, and so strong. A true inspiration. The last time I saw her was in April, just about 4 weeks ago. We had a nice chat; we talked about my father's passing in March, we talked about my transition, and we talked about life. She never once judged me, and had nothing but positive things to say, but I knew she was in pain. I knew how tired she was. I'm thankful that I had one last moment to spend with her before saying goodbye and never seeing her again.

I cherish every moment that I had to spend with her and her loving husband, Paul, and their daughter, Jenny, who is a talented coder working on some amazing things in Arlington, Virginia. They are strong, independent people who never stopped loving each other. Inspiring to the end. And that's how I felt, this morning, when I picked myself up and decided to try again. I felt inspired to do something on her behalf.

Cycling has been a life-saver, for me. Sometimes, I'll be climbing a steep incline, shifted into the lowest gear and just slogging along at a grueling pace. For a moment, I entertain the idea of giving up and turning around, or getting off the bike and walking. But I don't. No matter how much my legs burn, no matter how much my body begs me to stop, I just keep going.

I know that even a snail's pace is faster than not moving at all. I know it's not about speed but about endurance. It's about knowing you can get to the top, if you just stick with it. Ease up, take your time. Have patience. But don't stop. Don't ever stop. You may feel like you'll never reach the top, but if you stop moving, you never will. Just keep pedaling; just keep pedaling.

Cycling has taught me some important lessons about life, and about how much strength I really have. That's why I'm riding the 2015 ACS Endure PA in her honor. I've chosen the 62 mile course -- a metric century, in the parlance of riders. It's a long, long distance, but I'm confident I can do it. I have plenty of inspiration to get me there, and I'll be training for it at every chance I get.

Now here's where you come in: I want to raise at least $250 in Sherry Buller's name and donate it in her place, but I need your help to get there. If you feel inspired to give, please do. Follow the link below -- any amount will help. I have just under 90 days to collect the amount I've pledged to raise. Help me keep fighting. Help me to help others keep fighting.

You may not have met Sherry, but I hope you understand how much she meant to me and my family. Cancer sucks. It kills and will likely continue to kill. It killed my grandmother 30 years ago and still ravages the lives of people around us. With the advances we've made in technology, procedures and vaccines to prevent cancer, maybe we'll actually manage to stop it... but only if we keep fighting. Advances are slow, but still so much faster than doing nothing at all. Just keep fighting; just keep fighting. We'll get to the top of this hill, yet.

Please donate by clicking the link below:
http://main.acsevents.org/goto/deeculp

In memory of Sherry Buller.

Because Girls Ride Bikes

2015-04-13T12:06:00.000-04:00

Every now and then, someone will ask me if I'm still riding my bike. "Hey, you still riding your bike?" Yep, still riding.

Usually, they follow that question up with, "Oh. Even though, you're like... you know, since... you know?" And I just stare at them like they're insane.

Of course I still ride my bike. Women definitely ride bikes. And no, they're not all riding in the slow lane, taking it easy while shooting selfies. They're racing downhill at breakneck speed, charging up mountainous hills, dipping and swerving through the pack on a curvy stretch of roadway, and much more. They're riding a hell of a lot better than I can, and a hell of a lot better than most of the guys out there who don't think women ride bikes.

Besides, even if they are taking it easy and enjoying the ride instead of slogging through a sufferfest, what business is it of yours? They're riding their bikes. So, yeah, I still ride. Even though... you know...

Of course, most of the people I talk to aren't putting it that way. They're not shocked by women riders, and my being transgender isn't really the problem, either. They're just connecting with me on a level they understand. It's a bike thing; we speak bike. They're aware that I'm going through a major life change, and they want to know how I'm doing. I'm doing quite well, thank you.

Quite well, that is, until yesterday's ride. About a quarter of a mile from my apartment I slipped on some rotting leaves and got thrown to the ground.

Fortunately, I was able to roll into the fall and cushion the impact. My right wrist took most of the damage while my left leg got a nasty scrape. There's a bruise on my right knee, but both of them hurt, for some reason. Aside from my wrist, which is kinda messed up now, all of these are minor and easy to ignore. What I couldn't ignore was the searing pain shooting through my right breast.

I'm into my 5th month of hormone replacement therapy, which means breast development is definitely underway. The area just below the surface of the areola is tender to the touch on a good day, but can get achy on bad days. This was an ok day; barely noticeable. I wasn't wearing any kind of sports bra, just a compression shirt to keep some even pressure and support them on the bumps. But landing directly on my chest, putting almost my full body weight on top of it, crushing the soft, spongy tissue and the developing bud in my right breast was more pain than I could take in that moment. I looked myself over, checked for any major injuries, and then scooted myself over to the curb to cry for a few moments. It hurt that much.

I've fallen before, and it's usually not a big deal. This fall, again, was not a big deal. But I've got these new, extremely sensitive areas that I'm not used to protecting. I haven't gained the instinct to protect them, yet. And so, I paid the price. It still hurts even now, nearly 24 hours later.

I haven't been checked out by a physician, but from the conversations I've had with friends, I should be ok. Several friends assured me that they've fallen many times while developing as teenagers, and I should be able to continue developing just fine. It hurts like hell, but it's part of growing up and getting used to protecting sensitive areas.

In the meantime, it's supposed to reach the lower 70s today, and that's prime riding weather for me. I'm not going to let this stop me. Girls definitely ride bikes -- even transgender girls.

And Makes Some Observations Regarding HRT and Athletic Performance

2015-04-06T23:30:00.000-04:00

Lo and behold, the sun peeked out from behind the clouds and it warmed up to about 70 degrees, today! Perfect for a bike ride.

I took to the usual bike path along the river, and was pleasantly surprised to see that all the snow was finally gone. Also, all of the dog shit was gone. Seriously, dog walkers, that's disgusting.

I wanted to ride the loop I did most of last year, across the Carey Ave bridge and going up Route 11 and cutting back onto the back path. The path then runs under the Market St and Pierce St bridges before terminating in a parking lot. I do a 180 and then pedal back to cross the Pierce St bridge and then onto the path on the Wilkes Barre side of the river, going under Market Street and then popping up onto River Street to head home. It's a decent run, mostly flat with a few steep inclines that aren't very long. 14.5 miles, total.

What kept from doing the full loop this time was Route 11. Last time I rode it, about 2 weeks ago, they were doing construction on one of the smaller bridges, and I'm not comfortable with cutting through that kind of traffic with sun setting and no lights. So, I cut the trip in half and called it a day. 7.8 miles in 36 minutes.

Couple of observations:

No. 1) The hormone therapy doesn't seem to have robbed any of the strength in my legs/lower body. Spironolactone is an anti-androgen -- it blocks the effects of testosterone. I can expect to lose up to 30% of my muscle mass, but most, if not all, of that is upper body. Actually, I was rapidly losing upper-body strength before I even saw any loss of mass. I don't really miss it, though. I might not be able to lift anything over 50 pounds anymore, but I can still crank the hell out of my single speed.

I'm not concerned about any of this, to be honest. I'm a casual rider, I ride to have fun and stay in shape. If I wanted to train harder and build some muscle mass on my legs, I probably could. One of my good friends is a pro rider, a cis female who makes no excuses and leaves most cis males in the dust. I figure, she's my inspiration. That and the fact that I seem to still have a decent bit of stamina, despite being out of shape. Give it a few weeks, and I'll be right back where I was last year, I'm sure.

No. 2) People still haven't figured out how to not stand in the middle of the bike/walking path like a bunch of doltish cows. They just stare at you like a dumb ass as you roll right up and over them. Idiots.

No. 3) Seeing a dad teach his son how to pitch a ball was kind of cute, until the dad started bawling the kid out. "That was TERRIBLE, what's wrong with you? You have to follow through, don't let go of the ball until..." Blah blah blah. Oh, male bonding.

That kind of stuff used to roll right off my back, though. I hated baseball, soccer, football... and I made it obvious. A coach would yell at me and I'd put up with it until it was time to go home, and then not come back. It wasn't important enough to me to be verbally abused by some jerk. Besides, I could get all the verbal abuse I wanted back home; didn't need more.

No. 4) The river is pretty high. A lot of the lower lying areas were covered. At least there aren't a lot of bugs. Also, doesn't smell all that bad, yet. Give it a chance.

No. 5) I might want to think about a sports bra, soon. I'm not quite there, yet, but there was some jiggle going on; some of those bumps were a little rough, and it was not a pleasant feeling. As my bust increases in size, though, it's gonna get worse, I'm sure. In the meantime, it's nice that "boy mode" seems to be fading away. I have to wear a hat to hide my hair loss, but I can see huge differences in my face that should get more defined in the coming months.

Dale Rides HER Bike

2015-02-27T13:40:00.002-05:00

According to the archives, I haven't posted since April 5, 2014. In that span of time, so much has changed. This blog has been seen by THOUSANDS of people (current metrics put it at about 100 unique visitors per day). But that number has troubled me. It's not the tiny little blog that no one read or noticed like when I first started. With each passing month, as it grew and grew, I knew that eventually I would have to come clean about something that happened to me about 8 months ago, right around June - July 2014, and that's a lot of people to tell at once.

Don't worry; I wasn't in an accident or suddenly discovered the joy and freedom of rollerblading. I'm alive and well and still riding my bike (although, not so much in the dead of Winter). Instead, I had a powerful, life-altering experience. ...for the better!

Let me start at the beginning...

From a young age, I knew something about me was different, but I didn't really know what until, back when I was still in my single-digits, I came across an article in (of all places) The Weekly World News.

In between pictures 3-foot-long grasshoppers, pictures of "bat boy" and Bigfoot, I came across the news that Christine Jorgensen had died.

Christine Jorgensen was the famous "Ex-GI" who became a "Blonde Beauty" back in the 50s. It was the first time I'd ever heard of a man becoming a woman, and the very idea set my mind on fire. Reading her story began triggering waves of questions that continue to this day.

Although I have some earlier memories of gender dysphoria, from that day on, I just KNEW that some day, I was going to become a woman. (Although, technically/medically, we don't refer to it as "becoming" a woman; it's simply affirming what we feel we were born as.)
I just knew it was something I had to do.

And then life happened.

I grew up. I learned a little bit more about how the world works and feels about people like me. I realized how expensive surgery can be, and that I'd have to see a therapist if I ever wanted to start hormones -- and seeing a therapist would mean admitting that I had a "problem" that would make me different and leave me with a mark that society would judge me by for the rest of my life. It was too much to ask of teenage me, so I waited.

On into my 20s, the thoughts and feelings had settled and made me much less desperate to change myself. Or, maybe it was more that I knew how difficult it would be, and feared becoming ostracized by my friends and family. From time to time, I'd forget about it, until the occasional dream where I would be in the "correct" gender, leaving me emotionally crushed when I'd wake up and see my body as it really was.

On into my 30s, after working a miserable office job where I would babysit servers for hours on end and escape into my fantasies to pass the time, I decided I couldn't take that kind of life, any longer. In response, I moved 3000 miles away, to Seattle, WA, where I tried to find myself with a better job and new friends. I was miserable; I forced everyone out of my life. I had nothing left to lose. But, in the end, it solved nothing. I knew there was a deeper problem, but I couldn't face it. Not yet.
I moved back home, defeated. If there were ever time I wanted to kill myself, this was it. I never felt so worthless.

Eventually, after trying to kickstart a career in journalism (which burned out after 3 years) and scraping by as a dishwasher/factory worker/whatever I could find, I answered a tweet from a friend on Twitter who needed help at his computer shop. I started part-time and quickly proved myself invaluable; then things started happening and getting better.

After a year or so, I got a significant raise and realized my dreams of moving away from Hazleton were a possible reality. So, I jumped at the first opportunity and settled down in Wilkes-Barre, PA. Then I got sick, hurt my back, moved back to Hazleton for 2 months before getting back on my feet and finding a new apartment in Wilkes-Barre, ready to try again. As of late May 2014, everything was looking up and up. I couldn't be happier! Or so I thought.

Into the Present

Living on my own, away from family members, and without the need to hide from roommates, I realized I was finally in the position to live my life however I wanted. And there it was, plain as day. The very first thing I thought about doing was living as a woman.

The door kicked wide open. The feelings returned, stronger than ever. After about two weeks in the new apartment, right around my 35th birthday, I was sacked by feelings so primal and deep that I cried for an entire weekend.

I was no man. Everything I had done in my life was an overcompensation for that fact. Pushing myself beyond my limits, trying to "prove" myself to the world. I couldn't face a mirror for about a week, realizing that all this "getting into shape stuff" was me trying to find a way to make myself less ugly, more acceptable to my own eyes. Nothing worked. No matter how thin, how clean-shaven and groomed I could make myself, I only saw an ugly, balding blur of a face in the mirror. It was horrible. I looked like a man, and it went against the way I felt inside. It nearly killed me until I realized the truth of what I had always known; I am not a man. I was never a man.

My Bike, My Salvation, My True Self

All last Summer, I rode my bike as fast and as hard as I could, running scared from every dark thought in my head. 100 - 200 miles a week; sometimes more. I would ride about 10-15 miles around 6 am, then come home from work and do the same route at around 6 pm. On the weekends, I'd take off into unexplored country and get as lost as possible. Occasionally, I'd meet up with friends and go on a group ride, but I was always alone, inside my head, going over all these feelings and doubts and questions, trying to find an answer as to how I could transition and stay alive.

How could I explain it to my family, my friends and my boss? What if they rejected me? How much danger was I in if someone found out? I'd be out of a job, out of my apartment, and out of a home. God, wouldn't it just be so much easier if I got hit by a car, run over and killed? I had to stop thinking about things like that. There was so much fear to overcome.

Day by day, I found the answers I needed, out there, out on the road. I began to slow down a little. I put the energy I was spending on riding my bike into making plans for the future and working up the courage I needed to come out of the closet. I set goals for my transition and started seeing a therapist. I was a woman on a mission. The demons didn't scare me anymore. I could enjoy riding my bike at a leisurely pace, again. I could enjoy life, again. The bicycle had saved me, as it had so many times in the past. It allowed me to explore the hidden places of the world while my mind explored the hidden parts of me.

I knew what I had to do, and I accepted it. I cried, again, but these were tears of joy. I knew it would be difficult; I knew it would be scary. But if you've followed my blog up until now, you know how I respond to a challenge: I faced it head on.

I read about celebrities like Laverne Cox (although I never saw and still haven't seen Orange is the new Black), and Laura Jane Grace from the band Against Me!. I felt that the time was right; the world was ready to start accepting people like me. But could I make that change? Could I actually live in this world as a woman? I realized quickly that I would have to. It was becoming abundantly clear that I wasn't getting a choice in this. One thing we know in the transgender community is that once Pandora's Box is open, you can never close it. It was either survive and thrive, or destroy myself.

Within weeks, sensing how miserable and paranoid I was becoming, my boss asked what was wrong. Friends and family were wondering. TOTAL STRANGERS were asking me if something was wrong. It was so obvious, but I couldn't tell a soul as I delved into some kind of secretive, double-agent role: Who knows? Who doesn't know? Who can I trust? Has anyone noticed my shaved legs? Cyclists shave their legs, so it's cool. But how do I explain the makeup? Have they noticed I'm dressing more feminine? Do they know?

I knew I had to come out, and by the end of the Summer, my boss knew, my mom knew, my friends knew. And it was ok. It was totally ok. In fact, as time went on, people were more ok with it than I ever could have imagined. Instead of asking, "What's wrong?" people were telling me that I seemed much happier and open instead of being upset and reclusive, as I was for most of my life. My worst fears were put to rest, so I forged ahead.

By the end of Autumn, somewhere around the end of October, I was out, full-time. Wearing women's clothing, a wig and makeup. I bought dresses and skirts that I loved and wore them everywhere, every day. I used and preferred female pronouns, and even came out on Twitter and Facebook. No more hiding. I soon realized, I had nothing to be ashamed of. This is me, now. And, for the most part, I'm not all that concerned with changing my name. (It's a unisex name, and I've worked hard towards building it up and getting it out there. So, changing now would just be difficult and expensive.) However, I do usually just go by Dee, these days. (Get it? It's my first initial.)

So, here we are. February fading into March. 15 degrees but it feels like 2. Snow is everywhere. I've faced some of the most incredibly dark moments I've ever faced in my life and come out on the other side bursting with joy. I can finally be who I am. I'm free. I'm not just living as my true self, I'm thriving. I'm happy, for once in my life. I really, actually feel happy and contented.
Now, if only it would warm up a little. Bring on Spring, I wanna ride my bike!

Getting Up to Speed in Cycling Season 2014

2014-04-05T13:21:00.001-04:00

Welcome to cycling season 2014!
Although, for a lot of us, cycling season 2013 never really ended...

I never mentioned it here, but I moved to Wilkes-Barre in October and was enjoying a much shorter commute. Going to work was almost completely uphill along Route 309 into Mountain Top and would take me about 45 minutes to complete. Of course, that meant that the commute home was all downhill, taking me about 15 minutes from start to finish. It was great; I'd get a nice workout in the morning and a fun ride home.

My coldest commute was 18 degrees Fahrenheit in mid November, which still seemed warm compared to most of the days that followed, but that's not what stopped me from commuting. As the daylight got shorter and the clock got set back for daylight savings, it became treacherous to ride with the amount of traffic coming from the various on and off ramps along my route. Then came the snow and ice, the frigid temperatures... I kept riding throughout December and January, but I just couldn't keep up the commute. And then I got sick...

I was waylaid in late February by a bad flu and spent a few days in bed. Following that was a terrible, terrible back spasm that gripped my sacroiliac and made it impossible to walk for almost 2 weeks. It was so bad that I was worried I might have some serious damage and not be able to ride again, but my chiropractor checked me out and said I should be ok. It was a very scary time for me, as I shuffled along, hunched over in pain for the rest of the month. I'm still getting a lot of pain when I stretch my legs in certain positions, but I'm working on it, slowly bringing myself back to 100%

While it seems that pain may be a constant companion as I get older, I'm doing my best to get back in the saddle and get back up to speed. I didn't sign up for 30 Days of Riding this year because I was afraid I wouldn't be able to take part, but I've been hitting every day, so far -- even if it means riding on the trainer. From doing short sprints around the neighborhood to happily riding along my favorite Rails to Trails, I've been getting myself in shape for the Spencer Martin Memorial Ride in May. I'm happy to say that my friend +Michelle Hryvnak Davies will also be volunteering for traffic control, again. Can you believe it's been a whole year?

Speaking of Rails to Trails, I was really hoping to see the bridge on the Greater Hazleton Rails to Trails open this year. As of this writing, here's what the bridge currently looks like:

It's coming along nicely since I first saw it last year, but it's far from done. Looks like they just need to finish the deck and clean up the surrounding areas, but I'm not sure when it will be done.

Note that they added a nice fence running along the ramp up to the bridge and are fencing in the areas along the sides that run into the train tracks (tracks that are still, very much, being used. So be careful if you go exploring down there!)

I can't help but be tempted to hooft it across the small creek/marsh/whatever on the other side of the tracks and see how much farther the trail actually goes, but I'm patient enough to wait and see when it's finished. Eventually, it's supposed to run all the way to Eckley Miners' village, but that's a post for another day. At any rate, get on your bike and ride.

while thinking about Kickstarting a $35 bell.

2013-08-28T13:05:00.000-04:00

I happen to be in the market for a bell, which are words I never thought I'd be writing in my lifetime, but there you go. If you need proof that cyclists aren't right in the head, this is it.

I'm currently having a bike be rebuilt piece by piece. I found a vintage (circa 1980) Raleigh Reliant that I thought was nice, but wanted to make a little extra special. In other words, I had the original, working parts stripped off and replaced with modern components. Sacrilege? Yeah, a little. Let's just say, I had some other ideas about the bike than its original intent and made some tough choices. Choices like converting it to single-speed, upgrading to 700c wheels and outfitting it with some thicker tires that will chew through gravel rather than the other way around. I wanted an urban cruiser that wouldn't mind going off-road for a bit, and if I can do that with a snazzy-looking, vintage frame, why not?

I'm pretty excited about this bike! As such, I want to make it even extra special-er. More special. Special+. And so, I'm in the market for a bell.

You might think that you could just go to Walmart or your local bike shop and buy a bell, and you'd be absolutely correct. They do that; they sell bike bells. They usually have them in stock right where you can see them, and you can probably just go there and buy one right now, depending on when you're reading this. It's not like you're buying a controlled substance and need to meet a strange guy somewhere, or show some photo ID or ask the person behind the counter for something unusual as a password so that he'll know you're on the level before he shows you his secret stash. You just go to the store and buy one. Bells aren't even rare, they're pretty much everywhere. But, you know... We need things that are hand-crafted and special. And we all know that hand-made things are better than mass-produced things because, I don't know. They just are. And that's how you end up with a $35 bike bell on Kickstarter.

The really sad part is, I want that bell. Not a "want" like a hungered, passionate desire that keeps me up at night, but more like a, "Can I find something similar on Amazon that doesn't cost as much?" and then I do a few searches kind of "want." That sort of "want."

Why do I want this bell? I just like the way the hammer/trigger thing works. I like how you can aim the bell forward instead of straight up. Makes it more "aero." But I don't want to spend $35 on a bell, so let's see if I can find something cheaper. Here are some bells on Amazon that aren't as expensive:

Mirrycle Incredibell XL BLK Bicycle Bell (Black)

Black, polished mirror finish. Sexy.

The Mirrycle, which is spelled like that on purpose, I guess, seems kind of big and garish, but I'm sure it's pretty loud. I don't know what it sounds like, but I'm guessing it sounds like a bell. I bet it goes "Ding!" which is great for telling people to get the hell out of the way without yelling, "HEY! GET THE HELL OUT OF THE WAY!"

You can most likely mount the bell so that it stands upright or aims forward, but it's probably harder to pull the hammer back if it's not upright. On the other hand, the soundwaves seem like they'll travel horizontally and alert people to your presence in a wider range instead of vertically, which would only benefit airplanes and passing satellites. Oh, wait... that's silly. Sound doesn't travel in space. Sorry, folks aboard the International Space Station! I guess my bike will just have to run straight into you...

PRICE: $8.80. You save $26.20!

Skye Supply Swell Bell - Cow "Moooove"

Not actually a cow bell, just a bell with a picture of a cow on it. What's up with that?

Here's an awesome bell because it has a cow on it that says, "MOOOOVE!!" with two exclamation points, so you know it's super serious about getting people out of the way. It also says, "COW BELL," but it's not a cow bell, it's just a bell with a picture of a cow on it. Crazy.

You can mount this one in any way you like, but I don't think it will make a "MOOO" sound no matter where or how you mount it. It probably just goes "ding," which seems like a missed opportunity, to me. Come to think of it, maybe they should have shaped it like a cow bell. That would have been awesome.

PRICE: Only $6.75. That's a savings of $28.25!

Electra Compass Bell

Not electrical, in any way. Also available in silver. Also: compass.

Remember that ~~Murmur MirrorMirro~~ Myrrh-cycle bell from a few moments ago? Well this has a very similar design, but it's also got a compass on it! So, the next time you're in the woods, you can see if there's any truth to that old wives' tale that moss only grows on the North side of a tree. Or was it South? Or West? Or maybe it was "Moss doesn't grow on a moving Fat Bike?" What was I talking about?

You can mount this one to round things. Maybe you could wear it like a ring! Or, mount it to other body parts -- I'll let you use your imagination here -- just be very careful about where you mount it and read all of the instructions. Also: compass.

PRICE: $7.58 It's more expensive than the Cow Bell, but less than the Mr.MicrophoneMryrrrcycle Bell. Plus, it pulls double-duty as a compass, making it a two-fer! You save: $27.42

So, there you have it. Bells don't have to be expensive. In fact, at a total of $23.13, you could buy all three of these bells for less than the price of the Kickstarter bell. Hopefully, I saved someone some money and embarrassment today.

For One Whole Year

2013-08-06T10:09:00.000-04:00

It's hard to believe, but this blog is 1 year old. 1 whole year of documenting my journey from a guy who used to occasionally ride his bike maybe once or twice a month to a guy who rides almost every day. Well, almost every day...

A year ago, after a summer of eating healthy and losing about 30 pounds, I wanted to accentuate that diet with exercise. I had been walking along the Rails-to-Trails with a friend about once a week and racking up plenty of miles, but walking just wasn't holding my interest. I wanted to go faster, and farther. So, I pulled my bike out of storage and started doing about 10 miles a day.

Before long, I was adding a few more miles a day, but never venturing too far out of the neighborhood. I decided to challenge myself, to see just how far I could go. I felt the way most runners and joggers do after they start really developing a habit and improving themselves. I wanted to enter a race, or at least an organized ride. I felt like it was something I had to do.

The first thing I did was to hit Google and look for events that were happening close by. One of the first events I stumbled on was the Flaming Foliage Festival that was taking place right here, in Hazleton. I had never even heard of this event before, and here it was in my own back yard. It seemed like fate. So, I set a goal to get myself in shape for the event with the goal of being able to ride 50k -- about 31 miles.

I began by learning as much as I could about sports nutrition and plotting longer and longer courses for myself. I'd ride about 2 or 3 times a week, setting a new goal each time went out. I hit a few snags and learned a few painful lessons, but I eventually made my goal. I rode the half metric century course in the Flaming Foliage Festival in October and had a great time. I even met a few new friends. All in all, it was a huge success. As I look back now, has it really been a year? Time really does fly when you're having fun.

My life has changed in a variety of ways since those days. I started a new job, bought the bike of my dreams, kept the weight off and even met several other goals. I even managed to bike all the way to Pittsburgh! I mean, that was just a crazy idea I almost never meant to keep until it occurred to me -- only a few weeks prior -- that I could really, actually do it. And now I'm looking at the achievement from the other end and wondering how I did it; I still can't believe it.

1 year of biking and blogging. How far will I go over the next year?

On A Cold Morning, Chasing His Shadow.

2013-07-30T11:04:00.000-04:00

This morning's commute to work was a chilly one -- 52 degrees Fahrenheit at 7 a.m. However, it was still warmer than the 49 degrees I had to trek out in, last week. What's up, Summer?

We had a very late spring and now it feels like summer is pretty much over and done. We still have August ahead of us! Don't be like that, Summer.

As you can tell, I like to turn up the heat a bit. I didn't even mind the heat wave we had a few weeks ago; I just kept on riding my bike and loving every minute of it. Can we have that back, please?

At any rate, here's me, chasing my shadow with the sun at my back.

Through the Carnegie Science Center

2013-07-19T16:41:00.001-04:00

BIKES: Science on Two Wheels.

Growing up, one of my favorite places to visit was the Buhl Science Center in Pittsburgh. I loved seeing the exhibits and all the cool, hands-on activities on display, and the planetarium was a neat experience, as well.

Sometime in the early 90s the old Buhl building was sold or closed, or something... I was never quite sure what happened to it as it had happened after we moved away from Pittsburgh, but a new, bigger science center was opened. They even retained the Buhl Planetarium to honor the memory of the man who built it, so while it's not exactly the same experience, at least it retains some of the old magic. Naturally, with my love of science and science museums, I just had to drop in and pay a visit, as I do every year. This year, however, there was a new exhibit that was much more relevant to my interests. A bike exhibit!

This year's theme is "BIKES: Science on Two Wheels." Showcasing a large assortment of bicycles from the earliest concepts of what a bike is to some of the latest light-weight carbon set ups, there were dozens of bikes to look at.

Of course there were a few 19th Century "penny farthing" style bikes, and some of the earliest "safety bikes" to touch and look at, but I enjoyed seeing some of the bikes from the mid-20th Century, with large fenders and swept back, comfortable designs. These heavy, steel-framed beasts must have been hell to pedal around on -- my favorite was the Huffy Radiobike from 1955. It featured a radio built into the "gas tank facade" along the top tube that ran on vacuum tubes. Vacuum tubes! I'm not sure how they held up with all the bumps and bounces one is sure to encounter, but the idea is mind-blowing. It's too bad transistors were still too expensive, as it would have been a welcome improvement to have a lighter, more vibration-tolerant technology.

Another treat to see was the famous "Pee-Wee Herman Bike" from "Pee-Wee's Big Adventure," a Schwinn DX. Seeing one of the models used in the movie mounted right to the wall, and getting a chance to touch it, was a real joy. (I should note, we weren't actually supposed to be touching any of the bikes, but how could I resist?)

In addition to famous bikes throughout the years were a few other "pop culture" inspired bicycles, such as the Huffy Bandit from 1978, which was inspired by the Pontiac Trans Am driven in the movie "Smokey and The Bandit." Then were was a "tallbike," a tiny UDC Mini Bike, a few recumbents, unicycles and folding bikes also on display. I actually got a chance to try riding the mini bike, but couldn't get more than a few cranks in. Those things are just ridiculously small. Then came a bike that defied all explanation, the F&R Lowrider, as seen below.

F&R Lowrider - Because "art."

Reverse angle. Also because "art."

Another favorite, the Bowden Spacelander takes the prize for "Bike I'd Most Like to Own."

Heavy? Impractical? I don't even care, I want one.

Some of the interactive elements on display included a demonstration of the gyroscopic forces at play when bikes are in motion. Guests are encouraged to sit on a swiveling stool while holding a large bike wheel mounted to a handle while another guest spins the wheel with their hands. When the wheel is up to speed, the seated guest will tilt the wheel to the right and left while lifting their feet off the ground. What happens next is that the guest will suddenly rotate to one direction or the other, depending on which way they tilt the wheel. It's quite a unique, memorable experience, and just one of the many demonstrations available at the exhibit.

Finally, the Carnegie Science Center is sponsoring a number of outdoor activities to get people interested in biking, including a BMX stunt spectacular that was being put on by the "Freestyle Action Sports Team." I shot a few videos of their stunts, which you can see on my Instagram feed.

If you live anywhere near Pittsburgh and are into science museums as much as I am, it's definitely worth the trip. I mean, heck, I biked more than halfway across the state just to see this exhibit, and I thought it was totally worth it.

Across Pennsylvania - 270 miles from Hazleton to Pittsburgh

2013-07-19T16:21:00.000-04:00

I did it. Even a week later, I can't freaking believe I did it. I actually biked from Hazleton to Pittsburgh... Where do I even begin?

At the end of biking season in 2012, I set a little goal for myself. One of my dreams has always been to travel by bike, but I never really had a particular destination in mind. Because I grew up in Pittsburgh, I like making trips out there to visit when I can. Therefore, it seemed likely that if I were going to do something crazy, a bike trip to Pittsburgh would be it. As it stood, it would probably be the craziest adventure I've ever had, so I couldn't wait to begin.

Back at the start of 2013 I started making arrangements to do a weekend in a state park up near Scranton, but that plan sort of fell by the wayside. As July approached, I realized time was running out. With all of the lousy weather we'd been having -- rain, cold, terrible storms -- this Summer was flying by and felt as though it had never even really started. Would it be clear enough for me to actually make this attempt? I just had to try.

Over the last few weeks, I'd been saving up to get important accessories for my bike -- a rack, clipless pedals, panniers and tires. A quick look through a few of the past posts on this blog should give you an idea, I was definitely gearing up for the big trip. Days before leaving, I decided not to get a new front tire. With nearly 2,000 miles on the stock tire, I really wondered if this was going to be a decision I'd regret. The stock rear tire was a disaster, allowing nearly every sharp object I rolled across -- glass, rocks, harsh words -- to puncture the tube. Thankfully, most of the weight is on the back. At any rate, I had 3 spare tubes, ready to go.

With directions hastily printed out from Google Maps only hours before launch time, I left the house at 5:55 am. And then I quickly returned. I'd made it about 3 blocks before the brackets on the bucket pannier I made snapped and dumped on the ground.

I built the kitty litter bucket panniers based on plans I found on Instructables.com. They seemed like such a good idea, but the brackets just weren't up to the challenge. I could have, and probably should have, bought a set of panniers online, but I wasn't convinced they'd be able to hold all my stuff. Actually, that should have been a good indication -- I was bringing way too much junk. A tent, a towel, 3 cans of stew, a lighter, an alcohol stove, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, some bottles of water, a box of Clif bars, some string, utensils, a pot to cook in, a coffee press, some coffee, a knife, phone chargers, a sleeping bag, and a few other items. Too much, too heavy. Regardless, I jammed everything into a large bag, strapped it to the rear rack with bungie cords and headed out again. It was now 7 am.

The directions I got from Google Maps were designed to find optimal biking routes through low-traffic areas. For the most part, it worked exactly as described. Twisty-turny back roads, country drives, and long, lonely stretches that went on for miles. Unfortunately, it also included rough trails and unpaved uphill sections completely inappropriate for thin, slick tires on a road bike. What a predicament I quickly found myself in as I pushed my bike up a rocky, 7 mile hill in bike cleats. Even when it leveled out for a bit and I could ride my bike if I wanted to, I was afraid of what the terrain was doing to my tires. One large cut or slice could be catastrophic!

The lesson I quickly learned was to abandon the biking directions from Google Maps and go straight to Pedestrian mode. This would ensure me the quickest, shortest routes that could be walked. Google's Bike mode depends too heavily on trails and designated bike paths for me to rely on in the long run. I needed smooth roads, regardless of traffic. If it was legal to walk, it would be legal enough for a bike.

At the end of Day One, I set up camp at Reed's Gap State Park. I quickly pitched my tent while soup cooked on the alcohol stove and used the spare time to take a shower in the camp's bathroom. It was a well-maintained site with modern facilities and I definitely appreciated the shower. Unfortunately, then the rains came. A sudden, violent thunderstorm quickly drenched me and everything I owned in a matter of minutes. I dove into my tent and stripped off all my clothes. It didn't stop raining for the rest of the night.

I was the only person in the entire campground, which, when you hear someone walking around, or at least think you do, and you know you're the only person there, that can be pretty unnerving. The slight paranoia mixed with bright flashes of lightning and booming thunder meant I wasn't going to get much sleep, that night.

I laid on my back trying to get comfortable in the tiny 6x5 foot tent. It was cramped an uncomfortable, but at least it was keeping me dry. That's when I noticed that, all around me, I saw tiny beams of light against the sides of the tent. I couldn't imagine what they were, so I cautiously zipped back the door to look outside and saw some of the biggest, brightest lightning bugs ever. They were so bright that their light shone all the way to ground... or maybe it was just the darkness of the forest and starless, cloud-covered night, far away from the big city light pollution that made them seem brighter than usual? At any rate, it was beautiful.

At about 2 am, I heard the crunching of footsteps. I tried to tell myself that it was just the rain slapping the side of the tent, but it really sounded a lot like footsteps. And then it happened again, and again. I was almost certain someone was walking around the tent, but what could it be? A homicidal maniac, or just a woodland creature in search of food? Or what if it's a bear? And that's when something brushed against my foot from outside the tent.

I bolted upright, knife in hand. I turned on my flashlight and zipped the front flap wide open, yelling, "WHO'S OUT THERE? WHO WANTS SOME?!" But there was nothing there... nothing but a small mouse that quickly scurried under a log and stared at me, eyes shining, before slipping away into the forest.

I finally did it. I finally let my paranoia drive me to the point where I had lost my mind. And then, it all went away. Any fear or paranoia evaporated away and I was too tired to allow irrational fear get the better of me. I drifted off to sleep and woke up bright and early the next morning.

I decided that Day 2 would be better. I started out with a positive attitude and wanted to reach Blue Knob State Park with plenty of time to spare. That's when I came across the aforementioned rock trail and the 7 mile slog uphill. It was hell. I still have numbness in my big toe from the bike cleats -- either my shoes were too tight, or I don't know. But it was hell.

When I finally got back on the road, I had almost forgotten what smooth, flat pavement felt like. It felt good, and fast, but I was still lost in the backwoods of the middle of nowhere, and as beautiful as the view was in Rothrock State Park and the Alan Seeger Natural Area, I just really wanted to get to Blue Knob. The trek up that trail hill had stolen a whole 2 hours, at least, from my schedule. I stopped at the first place I could find to get a decent meal in me. My plan was being shot to hell and I had hoped I would make it before the sun went down, but I was having no such luck. As I miserably climbed steep, endless hills that would go on for miles and miles, I felt defeated. This wasn't "fun." I had expected a challenge, but this was torture. I wanted a chance to ride my bike all day, to simply enjoy the act of adventuring, but I was in pain and completely worn out. How could I endure this for another day? Where the hell is the next camp site? How much higher can these damn hills go?

I biked and walked for a good 12 hours or more, arriving well after sunset and forced to set up camp in the dark. But I had done it. I made it. Once again, I beat the odds. I wasn't happy, though. The wind was picking up and the temperature had dropped. I decided that, when I reached camp, I wasn't even going to unpack. I was just going to throw my stuff into the tent, sleep, and head out early the next morning. I made a fire and stared at it while the stew cooked.

Why was I so miserable? I considered that it wasn't like I had anything else planned... So what if it took the whole day to get here? Where else was I going? I was upset that I didn't get to chill out and relax, that I didn't get to do the "campy" things you do at camp, like build a fire, look at the stars, relax. But then, as The Beatles played on my phone, I realized that was exactly what I was doing. I had a fire, I had the stars, I had a hot meal and nowhere special to be for a few hours. Aside from a little bit of pain and suffering, this was the best vacation I had ever taken. What more could I really want?

I had allowed myself to slip into a negative frame of mind, where I was focused more on the destination than I was on the journey. I looked back at some of the photos I had taken and wished I'd taken more. In was in such a hurry and so angry about that trail -- Cooper's Gap Road -- that it ruined the rest of the day. It wasn't the roughness of the trip, it was my own lousy attitude. I listened to The Beatles, finished my meal and looked at the stars as the fire slowly faded. And then I went to bed, peaceful and relaxed.

Blue Knob State Park was absolutely beautiful. I didn't get to fully appreciate it until morning, when the sun had come up. It was still very cold, so I got a bit of a late start as I didn't want to tear down the same structure that was keeping me warm, but I needed to get moving. Fortunately, Blue Knob has electrical hookups at each campsite, so I didn't have to leave my phone unattended in a bathroom while it charged. With a full battery, the first thing I did was open Google Maps and set it to Pedestrian mode. Well, actually, the first thing I did was ride a few miles down the hill, where I could get signal. When I finally saw a few bars and "4G" light up on the screen, I was in business.

Another big detractor on Day 2 was the lack of any civilization. That trail, and the surrounding areas, were so far off the map that it wasn't until almost 4 pm when I finally found a place to eat. I didn't want to make that mistake again. When I started planning the trip, my intention was to travel 45 miles, eat, then travel another 45 miles to my destination. It seemed like a good idea, I just didn't plan it well enough. On Day 3, however, I made straight for the busiest highway I could find that was still legal to ride a bike on: Route 22.

Day 3 ran like a precision machine. I had dumped every last item I didn't need. One can of stew, the bottle of alcohol fuel for the stove, empty bottles for water, the printed directions from Google Maps and a roll of toilet paper I had brought along "just in case." My load was significantly lighter. My bike was no longer trying to buck me off and dump me on the ground every time I came to a stop. The original load was so heavy, in fact, it had almost gotten me killed on Day One when I couldn't unclip from the pedals and fell within inches of a passing van. Again, I had way too much stuff with me.

I had made it to Route 22 and turned off my phone -- no need for GPS when you finally know where you are. No turns, no detours, no mystery trails that lead to nowhere, just a straight shot to Pittsburgh. What Day 3 lacked in memorable experiences it had made up for in how much better I felt just knowing where I was, for once. Well, at least, emotionally... My saddle sores had saddle sores. My legs were twisting in knots, even as I kept plenty of food water going down my gullet. My left hand was going numb and my feet ached. The sun was searing me a golden brown and the sweat was dripping from every pore. I was in bad shape, but I knew I didn't have long to go. Just a few more hills, a few more miles, a few more hours... When I finally got to the hotel, I was as happy as I could be. I unpacked and then set out to do some urban exploring.

I had time. Time to screw around, time to play. Time to do a victory lap around my old neighborhood, which I did. Time to enjoy a Slurpee from the convenience store on the corner, just as I had done in my childhood. Time to snap a few photographs and reminisce about places that no longer exist. In contrast, I was so much happier than the night before, simply because I had time to enjoy myself. The work had been done, the pain would be a distant memory. I had time to revel in my accomplishment. Why was I so miserable at the end of Day 2? Because it was all work, no play. Now I had time to play. I had plenty of time.

I went back to the hotel, took a long, hot shower and crashed into bed. 3 days of riding had come down to this: a quiet room with air conditioning, a hot shower and a comfortable bed. And my vacation had still only just begun.

I had the chance to meet a few people on this trip, including a young woman who thought I was a bike racer. I met a cyclist who offered to run "wind break" for me, but I couldn't keep up. I met a backpacker who I had passed and thought would never see again, until he suddenly popped up a few hours later. I guess he hitched a ride and passed me at some point. And then, although I didn't meet him, I saw a man on a fully-loaded bike coming up West 22 as I was headed home in a car on East 22. I don't know where he came from or where he was going, but more power to him. More power to anyone crazy enough to do this. I still can't believe I did it.

Looking back, only a week later, it still feels like some impossible dream. I've got the scars to prove that it actually happened, that it was real and that I survived. Now the adventure is just a fading memory, and there's nothing left to do except plan for the next one, to hope that I can see that one through the end, as well. So many variables; so many unknowns. Where will I go next? Even that is a mystery.

Going clipless with Crank Brothers Candy Ones

2013-07-06T23:14:00.001-04:00

I confess, the idea of my feet being anchored to my pedals kinda freaked me out, and I was, in fact, afraid of clipless pedals. But no more.

Presenting my first foray into clipless pedal territory: Crank Brothers Candy Ones on my Giant Defy.

So far, I had one close call when I forgot I was clipped in, but I managed to save myself at the last minute and keep from hitting the ground. In fact, clipping in is actually proving to be more frustrating than clipping out. I was assured that clipping in will come natural after a while, and I did manage to clip in on the first try at least once, so there's hope.

If I hadn't already been sold on going clipless, one ride would have been all I needed to be convinced. No regrets.

Enjoy or: How I Learned to Defuse the Road Rage Bomb

2013-07-01T12:17:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, I found myself huffing and puffing up Poplar Street when I locked eyes with a woman in an SUV at an intersection. I didn't have a stop sign; she did. She clearly saw me, then pretended she didn't as she pulled out and cut me off. I veered almost into oncoming traffic then swerved back behind her tailgate to signal my dissatisfaction (and I think you can figure out what that means.) She continued on. Even thinking about it now makes me angry.

In the past, I've said that road rage is nearly impossible on a bike, but situations like this happen again and again. It happens often enough that it leaves an unpleasant taste in my mouth that lingers into the next ride. Where once there were blissful thoughts of freewheeling adventure on the open road, now there are negative emotions, anger and trepidation. I start seeing things in black & white, "Us vs. Them."

It's important to keep a clear head while riding because this stuff is just going to keep happening, and you need to pay attention or you'll be wind up in trouble when it does. Yelling and screaming, thoughts of revenge, none of this moves the dialog forward. Plus, you end up looking like this guy:

I've grown a thicker skin and learned to tolerate this kind of behavior from drivers, but I still wonder, why should I tolerate it? Why should anyone -- drivers and cyclists, alike -- tolerate aggressive driving?

Because if you don't, you're probably going to do something stupid. So, what can you do? Legally, what can we do to curb aggressive driving (and cycling)?

There are always going to be situations like this popping up, and we need to stop looking at it as an "us vs. them" situation, as much as it feels that way, or it will just continue to escalate. We are all traffic, we all have to get along. It's just that some people will never learn and will always take advantage of the situation when they feel they have nothing to lose. Cyclists are routinely honked at, yelled at, cut off and targeted. Believe me, I've had more than enough of this guy:

I don't think we should just grow a thicker skin and tolerate aggressive driving, but I don't know how to solve this problem. The only thing I can think of is to increase visibility, and that means to keep riding. Just keep getting out there, be safe and be seen. That's the most legal, most positive way I can think of to fix this problem. And the best way to achieve that is get rid of road rage. Grow a thicker skin, wave, smile and let it go.

Thanks a to a number of factors -- aggressive drivers included -- this ride that was meant to clear my head and make me feel better now made me feel worse. I was upset that I felt weak after being sick a few days and stomped the pedals in an attempt to whip myself into shape. I know I've gotten slower over the last few weeks -- my mantra shifted from "go faster" to "go further" and "this is not a race." I've lost some fitness and, despite being able to ride much farther distances, have lost a little bit of speed. Or, maybe it's all in my head. Maybe it's just a build up of negative emotions at things I can't change, like the lousy weather we've been having, or the behavior of other people. The road rage was just continuing to build within me, and like overstuffed panniers, it was weighing me down.

Whether it's physical or psychological, being upset and angry definitely doesn't help. That's when I found myself riding alongside another cyclist on a hill just past Weatherly.

I resisted the urge to pedal hard and race past him and, instead, shot a friendly, "Good afternoon!" as I caught up. He asked, "How are ya?" and we rode side-by-side for a bit, until our paths diverged. I gave a little wave and said, "Have a good one!" to which he responded, "Enjoy!"

Enjoy -- one simple word that completely defused my bad mood and nearly knocked me off my bike. I rode on, contemplating its meaning. "Enjoy what?" I wondered to myself. "The weather? The ride? The bike?"

Earlier, I was racing along the Weatherly-Plains Road when I saw long stretches of bright flowers growing along the side of the road. I had no idea what they were, and I don't recall seeing them before. I thought they might make for a good picture, but I was too busy trying to go as fast as possible to bother stopping. "If I see them again," I thought to myself, "maybe I'll stop. I promise." I say that a lot, though. "Maybe next time." "I'm sure I'll come this way again." "I don't always have to stop and take pictures." How many times have I said that, and not gone back?

After my encounter with that cyclist and a refreshed perspective on just why I was out here in the first place, I made sure to stop at the very next chance I had to snap a shot of one of those flowers. I even paused an extra moment to shoot some video and capture the sound of the environment. Suddenly, I had an answer to my own question, "Enjoy what?" Enjoy this moment; it'll never come around again.

If you're experiencing road rage lately, take it from me. Be seen, be safe and don't do anything stupid. Let it go and, as was so eloquently said to me, that day, "Enjoy."

Enjoy.

Belt Drive Bicycles - Trek District vs. Spot Brand Dualie

2013-06-26T15:00:00.000-04:00

For some reason, I spent a few hours yesterday completely enamored with the idea of owning a belt drive bicycle. I don't often indulge such fantasies as I'm more than happy with what I already have, but I decided to slip a bit and endeavor to see what I could find. After a good amount of searching, I found a pair that really spoke to me, for a variety of reasons.

First of all, I don't have much of a problem with chains; they seem to last quite a while and work pretty well. I even kind of look forward to the zen of routine drive maintenance, spending a few hours a morning every other week to keep everything in great condition. However, the Gates carbon belt drive promises smooth, silent operation and grease-free maintenance that should last the lifetime of 3 chains. As someone who notices the instant a chain roller starts squeaking, and who seems to perpetually have the darkened imprint of a big ring on his right calf, that just sounds incredible. The lifetime of 3 chains? I'm not even sure how long one lifetime is supposed to be, but for the purposes I have in mind, I'm sure it would last a ridiculous amount of time. So, if a belt drive is so great, maybe it's worth looking into? Let's take a look at what I've found.

The first belt driven bike I came across was the Trek District:

Trek District

Featuring a Gates carbon belt drive (as cool as that sounds) with a freewheel hub on an aluminum frame, the District gets off to a good start. At first glance, perhaps the District doesn't have the most exciting color scheme. There are some subtle orange highlights that add a bit of flair, but overall, I'm not a fan of the slivery-grey ("smoke" according to the web site) paint job. Other models in the District line include a greenish color and a darker grey. It's alright, I guess, but not that exciting, to me.

One unique standout is the eccentric bottom bracket and over-center dropout, allowing the bike to be converted to a geared drivetrain. I wonder, though, what's the logic, here? A concession that belt drives might just be a passing phase, or a selling point for customers who are wary of abandoning tradition? Perhaps it speaks more to the "everyperson" consumer, who wants the ultimate in versatility -- a bike that can fill multiple roles.

At an MSRP of $1099.99, there's a lot to like about this bike, but there could be more.

Next, a very interesting bike, the Dualie by Spot Brand.

Spot Brand Dualie

Now this bike is a little more my speed. As above, it features a Gates carbon belt drive, but with an added twist at the hub. You see, "Dualie" isn't just a clever name, it's a part of the bike's featureset. It's got 2 gears!

The rear hub is a Sturmey Archer S2 Duomatic Kick Shift with freewheel. Simply reverse pedal to shift into high gear. Too much stress? Reverse pedal again to down shift. Easy peasey.

The Dualie comes in one color combination, but this is actually a combination that I like. It looks fantastic. I'm already sold on the belt drive, and the addition of an extra gear means I'm better equipped to tackle the hills around North East Pennsylvania.

One caveat is the steel frame construction, which tells me this bike probably weighs a bit more than the District. Then again, the steel frame might just handle bumps a lot better, and if there's one thing we've got around here, it's plenty of bumps.

At an MSRP of $1,199, I'd be saving my nickels and dimes a little longer, but the difference seems worth it, to me.

So, which would I choose? I think it's an interesting race. The Dualie seems like it would weigh more, but the dual-geared hub adds some versatility. On the other hand, if it's versatility you're after, the District wins due to that eccentric bottom bracket and the ability to convert to a geared drive -- it's almost like getting two bikes for the price of one! Aesthetically speaking, the Dualie looks a lot more appealing to me. I'd hate for this to come down to looks, but that's just how I'm leaning in this particular case.

Were this strictly about function, the District would win, hands down. It seems to me that it can do a lot more than the Dualie and would probably be the logical choice for a more practical person. But in this race, I'm not that guy. I'm not looking for a practical, versatile bike, I'm looking for an urban explorer.

In the end, however you look at it, the money is going towards the belt drive, and that's the whole point of this exercise -- finding a lower maintenance, quieter, simpler bike. Getting one with great looks and personality, however, couldn't hurt. Now, if I could just convince either of these companies to send me a demo model for a proper review, I'd be more than happy to tell everyone all about it. *hint, hint*

How to Keep Bikes Off Sidewalks: Rig the sidewalk to explode.

2013-06-24T12:32:00.000-04:00

Apparently, London has perfected a way to keep cyclists (and everyone else) from riding on the sidewalk: RANDOM EXPLOSIONS!

In this video I nicked from a post on BoingBoing, even hapless bystanders aren't safe from the wrath of hidden, underground fire devils. Get off that cell phone, citizen! MOVE ALONG!

So, there you have it. Riding the sidewalk isn't just illegal, it's potentially lethal!

Once again, into the gaping maw of utilitarianism!

2013-06-22T21:40:00.002-04:00

I was informed that we needed milk. Perhaps "informed" isn't the right word... but when it was suggested that I should also get some syrup to make chocolate milk, I folded.

In all truth, I was excited to have a reason to go out. About 16 days ago, I'd entered into the fi'zi:k Tour Tune-Up Challenge on Strava -- a challenge to ride 30 hours in 16 days. As the deadline approached, I noticed that I was coming up 10 minutes short of completing the challenge. I'm not entirely sure if the challenge ends at midnight or if it runs until the end of June 23, but I figured I'd go get those ten minutes in sooner than later.

Aside from claiming those errant 10 minutes, I was also itching to test out the rear rack I had just installed on my bike. Carrying home a gallon of milk seemed like the perfect test. The question was, once I have the milk, how the hell do I get it to stay on the rack? Well, it wasn't easy, but I did it.

Does this mean I've given myself over to the dark side? Hasn't my speedy road bike suffered enough from being forced into daily commuter duties? Must it also serve utilitarian purposes? Then again, Giant created the bike frame with threaded mounting holes for a reason, right? I don't think it's too much of a sin, is it? Is that it? Is this the slippery slope? I even wore regular clothes and left the helmet at home! What next, a cargo bike? Man, that's like the minivan of bikes... I'm doomed.

The rack is a necessity -- I swear. It'll be nice to be able to carry stuff around without a full backpack pressing against me and making me even more sweaty, but I've been hard at work, completing my crazy plan to bike to Pittsburgh, next month. For that, I'm going to need to be able to carry a tent (at least) and some supplies. It's not exactly randonneuring, but my aim is to do about 269 miles over 2 days, with an overnight at a campground. Although, after a 62.3 mile ride on Thursday (that's metric century!) I'm wondering if I shouldn't cut the mileage down a bit and stretch the trip out over 3 days, instead. We'll see. If I can get myself conditioned to much longer rides, it shouldn't be too much of a problem. I'm really looking forward to this!

Panoramic view of Mountain Top, PA

Cicadas: The Vuvuzelas of the Insect World

2013-06-22T21:19:00.002-04:00

Just out past Tresckow, heading towards Junedale and Beaver Meadows, I heard a sound unlike anything I'd heard in nature before. It sounded like the loud hum of truck tires, rolling along the highway, but a much higher pitch. Or maybe dozens of car alarms? Or, to my ears, dozens of Star Trek phasers being fired at once. For a moment, I really wondered if I were being abducted by aliens. It didn't sound like anything an animal, or an insect, would produce.

As I headed into a curve, I longed to see whatever was up ahead -- whether it was coming towards me or waiting for me to approach it. But when I got there, I only saw trees. Nothing but trees. And from every direction came this loud, spooky sound. I quickly pulled out my phone and shot this short video:

Until Thursday, I'd never actually heard the noise produced by the 17-year cicadas. I'd heard they were loud, but I really had no idea. It's a sound I'll not soon forget.

Be like the wheel, my friend. Squeak for your grease!

2013-06-19T10:45:00.000-04:00

I am the squeakiest wheel, as visitors to this blog will, no doubt, notice.

I find that maintaining a positive attitude is the best way to get things done. However, I eschew that kind of crystal-gripping, new age, hippie nonsense almost immediately, as I've also found that bitching and moaning is the best way to get other people to get things done for you.

We can't help it; this behavior/reward stuff has been ingrained in us since we were children, and it's hardly a new philosophy. "Ask, and ye shall receive," is just a fancy of way saying, "Have it your way."

We -- as in, humanity -- really are a bunch of whiners and complainers, and bloggers are the worst. Actually, bike bloggers are even worse than that. We're always looking for some cause to get behind, or some way to complain about the status quo. See here, for example, where I ask you to whine to your local legislators to get more funding for biking infrastructure in Pennsylvania.

If anything, it's cathartic. The road being a mess, for example, is something so out of my control that I have no choice but to complain about it. I could simply accept it, and move on with my life, but that doesn't make me feel any better and the problem is still there! So, I complain. But there's another reason, and that is because we, as citizens, have an obligation to demand that our elected officials -- the people we put in charge to get stuff done -- actually get stuff done!

Well, I'm not about to sit here and say that my nimble fingers tapping against a keyboard actually did one iota of good towards fixing the bridge -- I'm sure finishing it was in the schedule, all along -- but my ride was smooth and bump-free, today. As Axl Rose once observed, all we need is a little patience.

Now that I mention it, Axl Rose kind of cements the whole point of this blog post, which is that, if you complain -- and especially if you make a good show of it -- not only do you get what you want, but people actually make you a rock star because of it. Sorry, positive thinkers! Throwing a hissy fit doesn't just feel good, it makes you famous!

Here's the thing: I own up about my whining. When I make a complaint, and that complaint gets a positive response, I stop, and say, "Thank you!" Thank you, to all the road construction crews and maintenance workers out there who keep the roads smooth and even. You rock!

In closing, let the rabble-rousers raise rabble! Flip a table! Clench your fists and stomp your feet! Roll around on the ground and hold your breath until you're blue in the face! We're just trying to make the world a better place, damnit! Why is that so hard to understand? Life is unfair! You're not my real dad! WHY DOES EVERYTHING BAD ALWAYS HAPPEN TO ME? #FML

The Taste That Satisfies

2013-06-16T22:40:00.000-04:00

There are moments when you have a craving, an unwavering desire for something -- a deep, passionate thirst that will not subside. Today, it was ginger beer.

It's hard to verbalize, but there was nothing that could satisfy my thirst for this drink. I don't normally consider it to be something I must absolutely have, but the feeling was overwhelming. Though, however willing the spirit may have been, the flesh was lazy, unwilling to get off the couch. Then, the real dilemma began.

Opposing forces within me grappled for control. I felt my senses leaving as I struggled in vain to fight. I was being torn in two. The fight was between the part of me that wanted -- needed -- to take the bike, and the part of me that thought, "Why not just take the car? What's the big deal?"

My soul was an unfathomably deep well, overflowing with turmoil at this point. On one shoulder was a little devil me, driving a car around with some tunes blaring out the open window. On the other, a little angel me, decked out in lycra, with a glowing halo hovering above his bike helmet. The angel won; albeit, with a pair of flip-flops and a cotton t-shirt instead of shoes and lycra.

One of the very few things I like about living in Hazleton is that there's a grocery store only a few blocks away, in almost every direction. Not that it makes the city unique, it's just that I find it to be a point of convenience. And, speaking from a purely utilitarian point of view, convenience is a very good thing. A long, extended ride is great when the point is to go on a long, extended ride. When you're just running a quick errand to pick up something for dinner, however... not so much.

And so, having finally hopped on the bike and made my way to the store, I claimed my prize:

So, actually, I didn't claim my prize. After all that, they didn't even have ginger beer, so I bought some Big Blue, instead. Turns out, my unwavering thirst for a specific taste was a lot looser than I had originally thought. I guess, really, it's just the carbonation I was after. I don't drink alcohol to excess, and I don't smoke, so if carbonated fizzy drinks be my one vice, I'll gladly roll with it.

As you can see from the label, it is naturally and artificially flavored; I'm not sure what it's naturally and artificially flavored with, though. I don't know what "blue" is supposed to taste like, so I can't even guess what the natural and artificial flavors might be. It tastes a little bit like bubble gum... I guess? I'll just say it was made from Smurf juice, which is both natural and artificial when you consider that they are living organisms that don't actually exist.

In closing, I salute the many smurfs that died to bring me the fine taste of carbonated, high-fructose corn syrup. Big Blue, you might not be ginger beer, but at least you have a taste that satisfies.

Shots from the 2013 Heritage Explorer Bike Tour

2013-06-15T17:49:00.000-04:00

Captain Don Chilly Willy, my hero and personal savior.

Vanilla ice cream on top of a root beer snow cone.

In Search Of... Kickstands. Whatever happened to kickstands?

2013-06-13T19:57:00.000-04:00

In Search Of... a razor, for that 'stache. Yick!

If you recall, In Search Of... went deep undercover to discover the whereabouts of Pete's Bike Shop in Hazleton, only to discover a front for the Ransom Young 2012 election campaign. Then there was something about an alien sasquatch, Elvis' attempt to sabotage the investigation, and I don't recall too much after that, but that's not what matters. What matters is that bicycles don't seem to come with kickstands, anymore, and I don't know why.

In my investigations, I've uncovered a myriad of reasons for this oversight on modern bicycles. One possibility is that kickstands just aren't "aero." Another cites weight as a possibility. Then there's the argument that kickstands are "useless" and that, eventually, your bike is just going to fall over anyway.

Actually, my favorite theory comes from a bike forum user who asks, "Is it just a 'Fred' thing?"

Nail on the head, sir! Heaven forbid we look "uncool" in our skin-tight, day glow racing kits while propping our bikes up against walls, bushes, trees, homeless people or whatever else is most convenient at the time. Imagine being seen with a kickstand hanging from your chainstay... Sakes alive!

Personally, I kinda do really want a kickstand, but rather than purchase another aftermarket part to scratch up my paint job, I decided to go DIY on this problem. Presenting: The PVC Bike Rack.

Instructables user fuego316 describes the steps necessary to build a small, "apartment" sized bike rack. Well, after a quick trip to Lowes and a swipe of the ol' debit card, I managed to put this little beauty together:

The best part is, it cost less than $10, and only took about half an hour to complete. It seems pretty sturdy, so I feel like I can trust it to hold up my Precious. Meanwhile, I plan to get another length of pipe and some more fittings to build another one for the office. I'm actually quite proud of this!

And so, another episode of In Search Of... comes to a close, with us no closer to a definitive answer. Until then, the search continues!

Have you ever seen a dead porcupine?

2013-06-13T12:03:00.000-04:00

Have you ever seen a dead porcupine? I mean, up close and personal and not simply a picture of one or an image on a screen? For that matter, have you ever seen a live one, frolicking in the wild? Do porcupines frolick?

Porcupines are frightening and bizarre creatures, when you think about it. "God's own pincushion" -- if such a deity actually exists. The quills, or spines, are actually hairs with a healthy dose of keratin that strengthens and binds them into sharp points that easily penetrate flesh. To get an idea of the toughness of this stuff, human fingernails are made of keratin, as is hair and the outer later of skin.

Contrary to popular belief, porcupines can't actually throw their quills, which is something I actually worried about, recently.

As a cyclist, I'm keenly aware of the hundreds of sharp objects that litter the shoulders of the roadways I travel each day -- broken bits of stone, plastic and glass. Now I have a new threat to face: porcupine quills.

I can only think of two times that I've seen a porcupine in person, and each time was from my perch atop a bike saddle. Also, each time, the porcupine was decidedly dead -- victims of automobile drivers, likely late at night, when visibility is low. Late last year was the first time that I can recall seeing one in the wild, and yesterday evening was the second time.

It was a bit unnerving when I realized what the bundled clump on the side of the road actually was. My feelings were a combination of desire and wary. Of course, I felt some sympathy for it, but I welcomed the chance to get a closer look at the creature without it scurrying away. As I approached, I was mindful to maintain a safe distance. I wondered if, perhaps, spontaneous nervous reaction could cause a few of the spines to be thrown my way, even post mortem. As I later learned, the spines don't work that way, and so, I had nothing to fear. However, the buzzing of flies and stench of rotting flesh caused my upturned nose to happily continue pedaling on its way.

If your quest is to see a porcupine in the flesh -- the rotting, putrefying, festering flesh -- I invite you to aim your bike along the southward lane of Route 309, heading away from Mountain Top. Eventually, you will have your wish fulfilled. (At least, until someone or something carries it off.) Just remember to steer clear of it. Porcupines ain't nothin' to mess with.

Be careful what you wish for...

2013-06-11T14:48:00.000-04:00

...because the scumbag genie is just gonna screw it up; and probably on purpose.

I've read more than enough fairy tales and fables to know that you can't trust genies as far as you can throw them. In case you don't know what I'm referring to, take everything you know about Disney's Aladdin and toss it out the window. From The Monkey's Paw to the fable of King Midas and even Glinda, the Good Witch from The Wizard of Oz ("You had the power within you, all along!"), anyone with magical powers is a scumbag. Don't accept their offer.

"Why?" you ask, as if you've never had your order completely botched up by a hapless fast food worker, before. Except, in the stories I've read, the wish granter goes out of their way to completely screw you over. You wish for a million dollars? Great, your wish is granted -- a bag with a million dollars worth of stolen money drops into your lap and the cops are banging down your door. Should've been more specific, right? Wrong. It doesn't matter. The moral of the story is always, "you can't get something for nothing," and wishing is about as good as spitting in the wind. So what's with all the bitter cynicism? Read on.

There's a section of road that intersects with 940 in Hazleton with a short bridge that crosses a small creek. I'm not sure what the name of the road is, but it's the bridge next to the Churchill Mall, for locals who know the area. The pavement is a little uneven where the road meets the bridge, and I always get a stiff bump when I hit it. I usually have to slow down, which isn't preferable as I have to go up an incline immediately after. I found myself wishing the department of transportation (or whoever is responsible for this stuff) would fill in the gap a bit, just to make it a little smoother. Well, I guess the scumbag genie heard my request, because roadwork began a few weeks ago. And then it never ended.

They did this:

It was an incredibly rough surface to ride on -- I'm still searching for some of my teeth -- but it was quickly repaved and painted about 48 hours later. Woo-hoo! That is, except for a large section where the road meets the bridge and again up at the light, which are about as rough as the surface in the photo. In fact, the deep gap you see along the road in the photo is still there. In other words, it's much worse, now. Thanks a lot, guys! You took a minor inconvenience (for me, on a bicycle) and turned it into a big problem for everyone -- even people who drive have to stop before hitting these gaps. Weeks have gone by, and it's still there. Are you ever coming back to finish the job, or is this how the scumbag genie fulfills this wish? Thanks, but I liked it better before.

Meanwhile, this is happening in Pittsburgh:

Well Said, Cheryl. Pointless, confused and flat out wrong, but well said!

Here's a radical idea -- if you really want to stick it to the man, sell your car and ride a bike. No more road tax! No more high gas prices! A feeling of smugness that cannot be denied! Much more effective than letters to the editor...

I honestly wish there were a version of iPayRoadTax.com that applied to the United States, but I doubt it would help much. Actually, I just wish the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette would refrain from publishing stuff like this, but there I go, wishing again. Wish in one hand... you know what in the other.

Actually, forget all that, because this is also happening in Pittsburgh, and it's much cooler:

Carnegie Science Center is teaming up with The Bicycle Museum of America, Bicycle Heaven, and others to offer a diverse collection of historic, rare, peculiar, and all-around amazing bikes! Visitors will enjoy science demonstrations and hands-on exhibits that explore energy, forces and motion, engineering, and material science:

Explore the evolution of the modern bicycle

Check out uniquely customized bikes

Learn about the latest technologies for sporting bikes

See bikes you know from popular culture

On Saturdays through September, we'll spotlight a special bike-related outdoor activity along the riverfront trail. Activities are free with general admission.

Motha'. Effin'. Bicycles.

I was born and raised in Pittsburgh, and although I haven't lived there in about 14 years, I still have friends and family I like to see when I'm out that way. Well, mostly, I just go to spend a day at Kennywood and visit places like the Carnegie Science Center. But now, seeing as how the CSC is putting on a big exhibit about bicycles, I almost have an obligation to be there! I mean, they're going to have Pee-Wee Herman's Schwinn DX as seen in the movie "Pee-Wee's Big Adventure." You really think I'd miss that? Hells naw, man.

In light of this revelation, I'm getting these big, crazy ideas about making a bike trip to Pittsburgh -- all 269 miles of it. That's not impossible. I just... I don't know. It's crazy. I think I'm crazy, and the more I think about it, the more I think I wasted my wish on lousy road construction. Come to think of it, if I want to get that road fixed, maybe I should write a letter to the Post-Gazette. Apparently, they'll print anything. Crazy.

The Therapeutic Effects of Lonely, Desolate Roads

2013-06-10T10:41:00.000-04:00

Sometimes, it feels really good to tread old paths. I love going off on adventures, exploring new areas and seeing new sights, but after a wreck of a weekend, I just needed to get back that old feeling of pure joy that I had last year. Judging by how I'm feeling today, I was successful!

First of all, this weekend did NOT go as planned. I had intended to do some light cycling on Saturday and then head up to the Pedal & Paddle Fest in Prompton State Park on Sunday. Instead, I went to Moon Lake Park with some friends from Valley Cycles to ride the trails there on Saturday.

As I've mentioned, I usually head up to Wilkes-Barre to ride with a group from Valley Cycles. This past Thursday was to be an extra special affair, as June 6 is also my birthday. (34 trips around the sun!) But, due to rain, a lot of folks either opted to ride trainers in the shop or just skip the night, altogether. I chose to skip.

After 2 days of raining, the trail was incredibly slippery. My rear tire could gain no purchase on the many rock gardens and tree roots along the trail. I'd get the front wheel up and over an obstacle only to get the rear wheel hung up as it would spin out and dump all the energy I put into each pedal. I just wasn't having a very good time.

I realize now that the Excalibur is too big for me. I had an extremely difficult time controlling it and ended up in quite a mess. I fell a few times, and I even ended going over the handlebars once as I tried coming down a rock formation and ended up going vertical. As I felt the back of the bike coming up off the ground, all I could was tuck and roll. Fortunately, I wasn't hurt.

Wet shoes + platform pedals = OUCH

The worst part of the ride came towards the end; I was really beginning to lose my confidence. Instead of going all out and having a good time, I was trying to play it safe and avoid any obstacle that looked like it might be too dangerous. I lost count of how many times I slid sideways and was tossed off the bike, or lost my balanced and fell over. Then came the injury as seen in the picture to the right -- a result of my right foot slipping off the pedal. It's not as bad as it looks, but it hurt for a while.

After all that, I just needed to get back out there and get myself on familiar ground. On Sunday, instead of driving up to Prompton State Park for more trail riding, I chose an old, favorite route that I haven't been on since late last year. Going out Stockton Mountain Road to Route 93, then on down through Weatherly and up past the Lehigh Valley Gorge. I didn't have time to head down into the gorge, so I continued past the Weatherly Cemetery and up past Eckley Miner's Village and then home along Route 940. 2 hours and 29.3 miles later, I was feeling back on top.

Riding this route reminded me of the days when I had no plan and no agenda. I wasn't trying to make it to work on time and I wasn't trying to keep up with anyone else -- it was just me, with hours and hours to be alone with my thoughts. I could take time to feel the cool breeze on my skin while coasting along desolate roads lined with forests of evergreen that reach into the sky. Trees so tall, they easily block out the harsh rays of the sun and put you in the center of your own world. It was, and still is, the best therapy I've ever found.