A pint of the black stuff

A pint of the black stuff, by cycling ambassador Michael Ort

80.5 km distance
3:59:43 trip time
20.14 kph average speed
65 kph maximum speed
1400 m climbing
520 masl maximum elevation

My bike computer had these data on it, plus the usual blank entries for all the measurements that rely on a cadence counter or a heart rate monitor.  TMI, in my opinion.  But what do these data really show about my ride?  We moved to Dublin almost two weeks ago, and are in an apartment about 150 meters from Dublin Bay.  It feels a bit like the long-term care facility my folks lived in before they died – carpeted halls and doors off to each side, and we NEVER see who is in the other apartments.  I keep expecting to turn around and see a yellow submarine crossing from one apartment to the next.  The village of Sandymount has a real center to it, with a triangular grassy park full of kids on scooters and a few cafes and all the necessary stores (bike shop with skilled and cordial mechanics, a fish store, a grocery store, a few pubs, churches, etc.).  It is about 8 km as the crow flies to get to the edge of the city, several more by bike.  I tried a route I found on Google maps the other day, and it was very trafficky and not very pleasant.  Today, I tried a new route and it worked much better.  Still a few stops along the way out of town to figure out where I was, but much more pleasant.  Then the hills!  The Wicklow Mountains would be called hills anywhere in the west of the US, but they reach 2500-3000 feet above sea level.  I lived in County Wicklow a couple of years ago, and I hit the first familiar road, as far north as I rode in that year, about an hour into the ride.  That familiarity gives me some confidence that I can make this cycling work – I can get from my house to places I know are good to ride.  I wish it did not require a minimum of two hours to get a ride in that is not all in the city, though.

So what about those computer numbers?  The distance – I rode up over the pass to Glencree, then up to Sally Gap (at 500 masl, the highest pass with a  paved road in Ireland), down to the east and north to Enniskerry, then back up to Glencree and down into Dublin and home.  So what?  Well, once I got past the city and up into the hills, the traffic nearly disappeared.  The roads are old – much of what I was riding was the old Military Road, a road the English built into the hills after the 1798 Fenian Revolt, because Michael Dwyer and his band of United Irish guerillas would hang out up there and then swoop down to ambush the English military patrols.  The English finally grew tired of this and decided to build roads and garrisons up near where the “terrorists” were.  Funny how, since they won, the Irish are not thought of as terrorists.

I passed a memorial for an Irishman who was killed up in the bogs.  Captain Noel Lemass fought in the Easter Uprising in 1916, then in the Revolutionary War, and then joined the anti-Treaty side in the occupation of the Four Courts (he and his side were against the peace treaty that left Ulster with the UK – they had fought for one Ireland and did not want to give that idea up.  The Free Staters felt that the treaty was as good as they could get).

The road continues past blanket bogs where the Irish have harvested peat (called turf) for centuries.  They have narrow spades that cut into the turf and make a turf “log” about the size of two bricks end to end.  These are leaned against each other in tripods to dry, and then carried down from the mountain (or up from the back bog at my mother’s family’s farm) to be burned in the hearths of houses.  This went on for centuries, especially after Cromwell burned down what was left of the forests to tame the wild Irish and deny them hideouts in the forest.  The Irish would weave the branches together to make an impenetrable thicket, with the only ways in or out known to them.  Cromwell didn’t like that.  As I sit in my apartment writing this on a rainy evening, I can smell turf burning somewhere nearby.  My apartment has a plug-in “fireplace”.  I doubt it would put out any noticeable heat, if turned on.  Today, most turf cutting is banned by the EU to protect the bogs, which were severely depleted in the last few decades.

Continuing down the hill from the pass, I skirt above the Glencree barracks, once an English army base and now a well-touristed coffee shop and a Centre for Reconciliation of Conflicts.  Then up another pass toward Sally Gap, where four different roads cross in a high, broad, open, bog-filled valley.  At the crossroads, I choose left and head down – that is where I hit my maximum speed, in a pouring rain.

I go down for a while but the road has an abrupt 100-m-high rise to get around a granite knob above Lough Tay, the Guinness Lake.  The Guinness family owns a large estate around the lake and imported the white sand at the northern end so that the dark waters have a white cap, like a pint of the dark (or a pint of the black stuff), as Guinness is often called.  Then a steep plunge down to the farmlands and forests below.  I turn north toward Enniskerry along the back road, admiring the countryside at a pace that I just don’t feel like pushing today.  At Enniskerry, I remember a little connector road I rode once and use that to drop straight down to the road to Powerscourt waterfall.  A car coming up the road stops on the steepest part, flashing his lights to tell me to pass.  I find a place to pull over and wave him up – he has the right of way, and I don’t want to skid into him on the wet road.  Powerscourt was the estate of a wealthy family during the Protestant Ascendancy of the 1700s.  They had a remarkably beautiful tract of land, including the waterfall, and did well by it.  They collected plants from around the world and have a gorgeous garden that is now a park that one can visit, as well as a pretty sumptuous “town” house that is now a shopping mall off of Grafton St downtown.  Charles Stuart Parnell and the Land League pushed agrarian reform in the late 1800s and the Powerscourt family (the Wingfields) lost much of their local power and land (tenant farmers were able to buy the land they had been farming for generations).  The Powerscourt estate was attacked occasionally by Irish rebels, of course.  The little farms in the uplands were the Irish domain.

My route takes me up through these smaller farms for 8 km, back up toward Glencree, Near the top of the road, I pass an engraved granite slab that says “Liam Horner Olympic Cyclist The Last Prime”.  Horner was an Irish cyclist who went to the Olympics in 1968 and 1972.  Perhaps as important, he won the Tour of Ireland in 1972. That is a tough race, one for rouleurs who can climb an endless series of short steep hills on rough roads (ones that were a lot rougher and narrower in his day). Horner was known for attacking to win primes – he needed the money to eat.  In Ireland, they remember their cycling greats.  There is a plaque for Shay Elliott (first English-speaker to wear the yellow jersey, and wore the pink and red jerseys too) at the top of the Glenmalure hill along the Military Road. A couple kilometers past the Glencree turnoff, I stop to pay respect to Mr. Lemass and admire the view in a heavy mist.  The sheep don’t seem to mind the weather, although a few flee my two-wheeled presence.  Then a rainy descent back into the city, where I merge with the traffic and head home to my modern and efficient apartment in a multi-ethnic city where I hear many languages daily.  How many here know the stories of the hills?

Cycling for kids: Strider Bikes and Specialized Foundation

What will this do to our community?  –Wendell Berry quoting the Amish in The Sun Magazine, August 2017

Imagine if we made cycling accessible for everyone, from the moment we could walk to our last steps on this earth?  Strider Bikes and the Specialized Foundation are two companies hard at work making this dream possible.  Strider Bikes makes bicycles without pedals so people simply use their natural leg motion to propel the bike forward.  Riders learn the feeling of steering and balancing while gliding at moderate speeds.  Strider bikes are also called balance bikes.  They have handbrakes for stopping.  Strider Bikes makes a range of bicycles, beginning with one designed for children who are 18 months old.   Balance bikes are fun for all ages and all abilities.  I could see these helping senior cyclists.  It is like walking on a bicycle.  But it has that cycling magic, a gliding feel, like we are walking on air.

We believe it [cycling] has positive benefits far beyond what we currently understand, and we hope that our primary scientific research will lend itself to a broader discussion around how activities, like cycling, can help with all types of health-related issues.  –Mike Sinyard, Specialized Bicycles

Specialized bicycles are world class.  You see them underneath winners of the Tour de France.  The Specialized Foundation is developing specific applications for cycling as a treatment for ADHD in kids.  Mike Sinyard, Specialized’s Founder and CEO, has dealt with ADHD his whole life, and he noticed cycling alleviates symptoms.  A few years ago he decided to partner with researchers at Stanford to study the exact mechanisms of action that are helpful.  As part of the Foundation’s mission to “advance the understanding of how cycling can help improve the social, emotional, and physical wellbeing of children”, they have a grant program for schools who can apply for assistance supporting cycling for middle school aged kids, 11-14 years old.  Every cyclist I know expounds upon the benefits cycling introduces to their lives.  With scientific studies like this one, we are just beginning to understand what is possible using cycling as medicine.

For the lucky ones, cycling is a continuous journey that blooms throughout life.  To create more opportunity for more people to discover and enjoy the incredible powers of cycling, we have to improve traffic safety.  Here at Southwest Bike Initiative, we believe if we get safety right, automatic and beneficial effects are generated in our transportation and related systems, such as healthcare (where America spends 18% of our GDP!), creative economies, biodiversity, and better connected, more livable communities.  Cycling is such an appropriate technology for so many of our trips.  It makes our bodies feel whole again, well-suited and sufficient.  A safe traffic system is structural encouragement for active transportation.  We can feel free to use our independent mobility powers.

Cycling is a technological innovation delivering profound boosts to the entire community.  Let’s use it to our fullest capabilities!  And remember, the most important reason to cycle is fun.  People take to bicycles like birds take to the air.

References and credits:

All three photos are from Strider Bikes:  https://www.striderbikes.com/learn-to-ride

Story of Specialized Foundation:  https://www.specialized.com/us/en/specialized-foundation-about-us

Outside’s story on Specialized’s work, “Road bikes not ritalin, how cycling could help kids with adhd”:
https://www.outsideonline.com/2095101/road-bikes-not-ritalin-how-cycling-could-help-kids-adhd

Health care data from the World Health Org.,: http://apps.who.int/nha/database

A Ride

story and photos by Team CSP-SBI’s Michael Ort
—————–

I wake up with an ear worm: “Rejoice, rejoice, Emmanuel shall come to you, O Israel”.  No idea where it came from, but it’s there.  By 6:45, I’ve had my tea and some too-sweet granola (the store must have changed its supplier), and am out the door on my cross bike.  No one out on the streets – Sundays are delightful that way.  Up the hill behind Thorpe Park.  Funny that the ride starts with the steepest hill.  Up onto the mesa and beginning to stretch out.  Ten cow elk cross the dirt road in front of me.  I wonder where the pronghorns I used to see around here have gone.  Bouncing along over ruts and rocks – the big trucks doing the forest thinning sure mess up the road.  The heavy equipment used to put in the Snowbowl water line a few years ago must not have been cleaned of noxious seeds before coming in.  The cheatgrass came in at that time and is spreading quickly.  All the forest clearing might be for naught if the cheatgrass carries the fires instead.  Pass through a covey of sleeping campers with vehicles on both sides of the road.  No dogs come out, good!  Bouncing bouncing bouncing, Rejoice rejoice Emmanuel!

We had dinner out with our daughter last night.  She moved out last weekend.  I was surprised how good it was to see her.  I miss her.  The nest is empty.  Legs feeling good – rejoice!  We are going to do the Ride the Rockies next week, and I have not really done any training.  This ride might tell me whether I can do the miles, but it is too late to train.  I was working on Reunion Island for a couple of weeks, where I managed a couple of runs on the track outside my dorm room, but the work was pretty demanding.  Then a day in Dublin to drop off suitcases – why bring them home if we are moving back there in a couple of months? – and then to Oxford to work on a proposal for a couple of days.  It was good to meet my two colleagues – we had only corresponded via email and chatted on skype previously.  But one just could not seem to get her mind around the project and focus on obtaining the results we need from her.  After the meeting, the other colleague told me she wants the first one off the proposal – she doesn’t have the skills to do the work we need.  Colleague number two is right, but these are people, not robots.  I am the lead on this – it falls to me.  I wrote a letter, but is it kind?  Is it clear?  It is sitting on my computer now, waiting for me to decide.  I need advice from someone.  Who?  Guido would be good – I’ll write him.  Bam – oof!  Hit that rock a bit hard.  Rejoice!  Come back to now.

These wheels are pretty strong.  Had them built last summer, set up tubeless, and now can ride fatter tires.  35 rear, 40 up front.  My first long ride on them was this same route, I think.  It was before I did that ride put on by that organization in Phoenix, riding up to the Canyon.  I did not know anybody on the ride, but my daughter ran the scheduling for friends who were giving massages at the finish.  We all camped there that night.  And then I ran into Dara – Troy was off doing something – and so there was someone to chat with.  She had her little gas molecule with her, running around playing.  I was beat from riding a cross bike on a mountain-bike course, but bang!  Didn’t see that rock in the shade.  I really should get some lighter sunglasses so I can see in mottled light.  Legs still feeling good. Dropping down behind Wing Mountain.  Cool, a coyote!  And cows.  Rejoice, rejoice!  I wonder where that song comes from.  Can’t think of any more words to it – could it be from Dad’s temple?  No, I can’t remember singing there.  Mom’s church?  Maybe – they did a lot of singing back then.  It was an ecumenical time.  That seems to have passed – do churches still invite people from other faiths to discuss their belief systems?  I learned a lot from those but I can’t seem to believe in the Judeo-Christian-Muslim god any more.  After seeing my daughter in the hospital with Stevens-Johnson syndrome, skin blistering from a reaction to her epilepsy meds, I couldn’t see any god that allowed that as merciful or loving, or else he/she/it wasn’t very powerful.  The forest feels powerful today.  Maybe god is something else.  Cool, arriving at road 222.  Fast and no traffic – haven’t seen a car moving yet.  Where is my shortcut – that one?  No, I’ll recognize it.  Don’t second-guess yourself.  There it is – turn off!  A couple mule deer.  Now road 171 – heading toward Kendrick.  The lava tube is over there.  It is nice the tourists don’t know about the better caves.  Ahh, the first car passes me, respectfully and slowly, keeping the dust down.  Give them a wave.  Oh, two hours in now, time to eat something.  Quiet out here, good time to sit.  Rejoice, Emmanuel, whoever you are!  Along the foot of Kendrick and then south on road 100 through Government Prairie.  Pass the Government Prairie vent – coolest scoria cone around, with benmoreite, rhyolite, and dacite all erupted together.  The students I take here are always amazed and confused by it.  What a wide-open area!

The road goes straight along the range boundary.  Glad we don’t use township and range much anymore.  GPS and UTM sure simplify things!  Through the little housing community – they just graded this road.  Up to 35 mph on the downhill, with a bit of sliding on some turns.  Rejoice!  Left on old route 66, dirt here.  And uphill.  Hmm, my legs are getting tired, and it is hot.  Stop at the top for another bit of food, and refill my bottles from the one-liter platypus in the big seat bag I put on the bike for this ride.  Great invention, but I am still going to be pretty dry by the end.  Twenty miles to go now, forty miles in.  More sunscreen? Nah – too much sweat on me, so the cream won’t stick.  Downhill to that little housing area – I wonder if it has a name?  See my second (and third, fourth, fifth, and sixth) vehicles on the road – old pickups each with one person inside, in single file moving slowly.  Wonder what that is about.  Damn Assos bib shorts.  I bought them because everyone said they are so comfortable.  They always feel noticeable when I wear them, chamois too thick, bib straps push on my shoulders.  I want shorts I don’t notice.  After these shorts failed, I started buying Castelli.  Those fit me, and disappear when I am on the bike.  My nipples hurt – the stupid bib straps are chafing them.  Do I need to put bandaids on them like in a marathon?  Bouncing along probably accentuates the problem.  Pavement!  I wonder how long this stretch is.  Long fast cruise downhill, to turn back onto road 171.  Three miles of pavement to the turn.  Wave and call out greetings to the pack of runners returning from their run and getting into their cars.  Damn, I should have asked them if they had any extra water.  Up the hill – three more cars pass by – and turn onto 222A.  This will be a grunt – my legs are tired.  Forgot how loose and rocky it is too.  A big guy in a huge pickup stops and gets out, heading off into the woods.  He waves, and remotely locks the pickup, which chirps as I pass by.  Finally at the top – Rejoice, Emmanuel.  Who was Emmanuel?  Isn’t that another name for Jesus?  For people who had no surnames, the various forms of god sure had a lot of given names.  Cruising down the road toward A1 Mountain now.  Brake quickly at the rough patches.  Better lighting than earlier this morning, but I am tired and need to be careful.  Stop for my last food and drain one bottle.  Still have half the other to drink.  I’ll make it.  An SUV comes by and stops and asks if I am okay.  I probably look pretty beat.  I should – I am.  I thank them.  Damn!  Should have asked for water.  Or maybe a beer.  Out into A1 meadow.  No animals out now.  Down the hill to Thorpe Park, slowing and ringing my bell for the walkers.  Pavement, up the hill, and home.  Pine pollen covers everything in yellow.  Except me.  I am covered in dust.  And my bike too.  Hose us both off. Rejoice, rejoice!  I’ll lube the chain later.  

Everybody up! Iron Horse Bicycle Classic 2017

The community here gets behind any cycling event 100%. –Howard Grotts, 2017 IHBC King of the Mountain

Cycling up Coal Bank pass, the sound of water flowing in the high mountain streams along the road, I felt completely in the moment.  The road was open solely for the Iron Horse participants.  I concentrated on my breathing and my mind was quiet.  As I rode the bike I was aware of my surroundings.  Wet evergreen needles glistening in alpine sun.  The endless white of the San Juan mountains touching the blue sky.  With every breath I inhaled the fragrance of sweet forest.   Rivulets of water streamed down the stone-faced mountainsides, reminding me of the soothing ambiance of the Florida River rolling over the polished rocks by the cabin where we had slept.  It was a seamless experience.  The rhythm of heart and legs pumping.  Breathing deeply in the silence.  Here I am.  This is the reason we cycle.  To dream big and immerse ourselves in the cycling experience, becoming a part of something greater and timeless.

Finishing second. Thanks Mai @ http://sansai.photoshelter.com for the amazing photos in this blog entry (all but the Molas pass photo)

I enjoyed the Iron Horse Bicycle Classic more than ever this year.  There are a number of events over the weekend inlcuding kids races, mountain biking, a cruiser parade, BMX, and more.  I focused on Saturday’s road race from Durango to Silverton.  It’s an incredible course traveling up the Animas River Valley and over two high mountain passes before making a fast, sweeping descent into Silverton.  It’s one of the most beautiful courses in the country.

The community not only gets behind the events, they actually get in the events!  There are thousands of riders cycling from Durango to Silverton.  You can race or ride at your own pace.  Either way, everyone challenges themselves and shares the cycling experience.  The citizens cheering along the course are equally extraordinary, and it takes so many volunteers and staff to make the events happen.  No matter if you are riding, racing, cheering, working, or waiting for your family member to finish in Silverton, all participants infuse the festivities with special value.  And the event promoters are careful to make the community integral in every aspect of the weekend’s adventures.

Mai was waiting in Silverton and that was extra uplifting

My race went off at 7:30am Saturday.  The field was stacked with impressive talent.  My basic plan was to ride with the main pack for the first 20 or so flat miles through the river valley, and wait for when the climbing began in earnest to spend my energy.  But I saw Sepp Kuss, a professioal cyclist from Durango, was there, as well as Howard Grotts, a superb climber.  My teammate Drew saw them as well and advised me that if I could get in a break early and save some legs for the climbs, that it wouldn’t be a bad strategy.  As the race rolled out of town, I found myself moving up in the pack.  And then I saw an opening at the front and just kept going.  I was riding solo off the front.

Drew in Silverton. A teammate in the race, especially one as great as Drew, is a huge help & morale boost

I rested my forearms on the tops of my bars and time trialed to the base of the first climb.  On Coal Bank Pass the race official’s vehicle pulled up next to me and told me I had a six mintue gap.  It was beautiful riding higher and higher into the mountains but it was getting more difficult and I knew they would be charging hard across that gap.  I told myself that if I make over Coal Bank Pass still solo that I had a chance to hang on for the win.  I did go over Coal Bank solo and started the Molas Pass alone as well, but when I glanced across the valley I saw the orange kit of the Rally Cycling rider Sepp Kuss about a minute behind.  I was suprised how quickly he caught me and how effortlessly he spooled by, like climbing on air.  I kept my own pace and started looking over my shoulder, but didn’t see anyone else.  I crested Molas Pass ok, stayed safe on the descent, and pedalled hard up through the tunnel of cheering fans.  You can’t help but get shivers, and feel so happy to have made it, knowing you did your best effort on the ride.  It was awesome.  The first person I saw was Matt Caruso of Caruso Cycleworks, my mechanic, and then I found Mai.  It was a fun celebration.  As the racers came in we all congratulated one another, happy for each other and the challenge, laughing as we recapped our experiences.  The spirit of cycling in Durango is positive, energitic, rewarding, super fun.

 

Wendy Palen from Team CSP-SBI finished strong with teammate Tom Sisk

 

Tom Sisk, the leader of the Landscape Conservation Initiative, put in a great ride

The celebration continued for hours as riders rolled across the finish line.  One of the best parts of the weekend was the arrival of my teammates in Silverton.  Team CSP-SBI had three riders in the citizens ride.  Wonderful how cycling brings us all together.  Shared joy filled the atmosphere.  The grace and beauty of all the people on bikes in epic landscapes.

The Iron Horse Bicycle Classic reunites us with old friends and family and helps us make new ones.  It is such a family friendly event.  So many interesting people, it just absolutely flattens all boundaries to coming together as one community.  The whole world seems bicycle-oriented, and the incredible mountains, snow, and sky make the setting especially delightful.

I don’t know these people, but they look like they are having a good time

 

Mindy Caruso from Albuquerque won the Womens Pro race with a stupendous ride. Way to go!

It is inspiring.  I think the most incredible thing is experiencing the joy of others, and seeing their accomplishments.  Mindy Caruso from Albuquerque won the womens race in remarkable fashion.  I was so happy for Sepp Kuss, winning his hometown-race.  Howard Grotts, another hometown hero, would win the mountain bike race the next day and win the inaugural King of the Mountain competition.  Ned Overend was there representing the best in the cycling tradition.  At 61, his experience and strength is awesome.  Iron Horse turned me on to so many inspirational stories.  You learn more about the triumph of the human spirit.  On our podium Sepp called out “everybody up” for us to gather around him.  He wanted us all on the top step with him.  I feel lucky to be a part.

Sepp is a generous champion

 

the womens podium, go Mindy from Albuquerque!

 

the mens

 

Teammates celebrating together in Silverton

 

Team CSP-SBI on Molas pass showing the spirit of the Iron Horse

The story of the mens and womens pro races, w/ video, in the Durango Herald:
https://durangoherald.com/articles/161665
The kids race attracted over three hundred youth!
https://durangoherald.com/articles/161825-iron-horse-kids-race-participation-x2018-sky-rocketing-x2019
The BMX event was an exhilirating success:
https://durangoherald.com/articles/161850-bmx-proves-it-belongs-at-iron-horse-bicycle-classic
There are more stories at the Durango Herald, and also other media such as Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/IHBCDurango/

Thank you to my teammates, friends and family, Southwest Bike Initiative’s fiscal sponsor SINC, and our team sponsors.

Cycling for climate adaptation, water and stories

It [language] crossed mountains and oceans as if they werent there.  –Cormac McCarthy, “The Kekule Problem:  Where did language come from?” in Nautilus, issue 47

Devi Lockwood is traveling the world by bicycle with the goal of collecting 1001 stories.  The Guardian newspaper has run a couple of features about Devi’s trek to talk with citizens across the globe about their personal experiences with water and climate change, issues that Devi sees as being key challenges of her times.  “I use my bicycle as a tool for human connection..a way of meeting people and listening to their stories,” says Devi.

We use language to organize our unconscious knowledge into narratives, or stories, that we communicate across space and time and around the world.  Devi is intentionally cycling as slowly as possible in order to be a close listener, so she can hear the stories that people have, and diffuse an understanding about the changes happening.  In New Zealand–a place long thought of us a last refuge of wild space–she observes farmers struggling to come up with a system to manage the booming dairy industry, the waste of which is running into the water supply.  Devi’s observations at the community and individual level documents the real but oftentimes unaccounted-for costs hidden in our economy.

Devi’s work is pretty amazing, but we can also be close observers in our own communities at home.  A lot of citizens are struggling and it is an important time to listen to our stories and understand what is happening.  Cycling awakens our senses and helps us tune in, even to how the changes around us affect our own bodies, emotions and mind.  Cycling lends itself well to exploring our complex, interlocking world.  It teaches us more about place, more about our co-citizens, and gives us direct knowledge through our own biological feedback system–our health and well-being–while at the same time building up resiliency, sustainability and connections.  Cycling stories help us put together all of  that data we are gathering about the world in a way that is engaging, illuminating and fun.

Devi Lockwood’s professional website:  http://devi-lockwood.com
The Guardian bike blog stories on Devi:
https://www.theguardian.com/environment/bike-blog/2015/sep/21/one-bike-and-1001-stories-on-climate-change
https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2017/apr/28/devi-lockwood-climate-march-1001-climate-change-stories