The Summer of 2001 was the first summer I did not go back to camp. At this point, I had finished my Masters Degree in Mechanical Engineering and I was to report to Officer Candidate School sometime in the middle of June. I had a few weeks with not much to do, and decided that it would be time for an adventure.
Initially, I was planning to return to my motherland, England, but there was an outbreak of hoof and mouth disease so much of the countryside was off-limits. So, like the way I make most important decisions in my life, I winged it and decided that I would head to Switzerland. I had a full three weeks and figured I would just go from Hostel to Hostel and take each day as it came. Perhaps memory makes everything better with age, but I cannot remember a single thing that went wrong the entire journey.
My first week started off in Interlaken. I snagged a train from the airport in Zermatt and was on my way. The train was clean, punctual to the second and it was a smooth ride. Switzerland is an interesting country, most of the inhabitants speak French, German, Italian and English. This is because the various regions tend to adopt the language of the country that borders them.
As I was nearing Interlaken, a young lady struck up a conversation with me. I quickly learned that if you ask a Swiss person whether they speak English, if they say "a little" it means they are fluent, and if you say "yes" it means that they speak it better than you do! She informed me that I could use the rest of my train ticket to travel via Ferry to Interlaken. It happened to be a beautiful sunny day, just a slight breeze, a perfect day for boating. I had two travel guidebooks with me, and it was easy to find the hostel. It was nothing fancy, but it was very clean and professionally run. A large number of the guests were American, but there were a host of other countries represented as well. Most of the Hostels had little bars attached to them as well, so it made for a very comfortable experience. One thing that I never figured out at this particular hostel were the showers. I think they may have been defective, but without warning your nice steamy shower would alternate to very cold water for a few seconds and then go back to normal. Maybe that is just how they roll in Interlaken, living life on the edge, never wanting to get complacent, not even in the shower.
Switzerland is built for walking. Most of the towns, particularly the touristy ones, have beautiful town centers that are cut off to automobiles. My days were simple, most days I would simply go for a hike. I had a great book about hiking in Switzerland with all sorts of good suggestions and detailed directions on how to reach the trailhead. Almost all the trailheads were accessible by train. Some hiking highlights:
1. Almost every hike could have been right out the Sound of Music in terms of stunning scenery;
2. Most of the time, a hike would cross a town and there was always a nice restaurant to get some good food and beer;
3. Many times, hikes would pass through farmer's fields. Often these fields were full of the farmer's cows. This would never work in the States because people would deliberately try to let the animals escape, but in Switzerland it did work. You opened the gate to enter and closed it behind you. You follow the same procedure to exit.
4. There are lots of natural springs where it is perfectly safe to drink the water without treating it.
After a week or so in Interlaken, I made my way to Zermatt, home of the Matterhorn. I was only intending to stay a week, but stayed closer to 10 days. Zermatt bans cars entirely. All the fancy hotels have souped up golf carts to pick up the wealthy from the train station, but the hostels do not.
When I checked into the Hostel in Zermatt, I used my military ID for identification. For some reason, this impressed the guy running the hostel and he gave me my own room. It had twelve bunks in it, but he never assigned anyone else to the room the entire time I was there. I still ran into plenty of people, so it wasn't lonely, and it was nice not to be disturbed at night.
Zermatt is dominated by the Matterhorn, no matter where you are, you can see it. Like a big tooth rearing upwards from the meadows below. Almost everyday I did hikes right in Zermatt, in the Matterhorn's shadow. I had considered trying to hire a guide to see if I could summit, but was told that it was still too early in the summer for that. But, it was fun hiking up onto the Matterhorn's shoulder, still quite high, but no technical climbing required.
At some point, I paid to go on a day trip of ice-climbing. There were about 5 of us in the group, 4 already knew each other. But they welcomed me into the fold. We met the other half of our party at the site. I think they were polish or czech, but they were starting off the day with some incredibly strong Scnapps or something similar. They were quick to share, and I figured, why the hell not! They did not speak much English though and our guide did not speak their language. They kind of settled on French, which worked well enough for the guide and the group. Our guide was quite a character, he was a professional guide so this was a walk in the park for him. He had a great sense of humor, but made sure we knew when it was time to listen. We did our ice-climbing on a vast glacier. To reach the spot, we all roped up, so that if one of us fell into a crevasses, the others could arrest the fall. As we were hiking across the glacier, you would hear these low rumbles every so often. Our guide pointed to the mountains surrounding the glacier and indicated that those were avalanches. We were nowhere near close enough to be in any danger, but this was the first time I have been in an area where avalanches are going on all around you.
I had gone ice climbing a few times before. Generally, ice-climbing is a bit of an exercise in misery. It is very cold, you have a ton of gear on and belaying is the worst. At least when you are climbing, you are working and staying warm. The belayer, stands at the bottom of the ice climb, freezing and dodging chunks of ice that the climber has dislodged.
Climbing on the glacier was nothing like this. For one, it was probably in the 50s, and the sun reflected off the glacier, so it was extremely pleasant. Also, the belayer stayed on the glacier and lowered the climber into the crevasse. Any ice that was dislodged simply fell to the bottom of the crevasse. I had a blast.
Towards the end of my stay in Zermatt, I was at one of the local bars and recognized a girl from the hostel. We got to chatting and headed back to the hostel. On the way to the hostel you cross over a pedestrian bridge over a river that runs through the town. This bridge is perfectly framed by the Matterhorn. What followed was an awkward exchange. I started talking about how beautiful the spot was and said something along lines of "can I kiss you" to which she responded "I don't think I can say no". I only heard the no. I chalked it up to a classic case of me reading the situation with the ladies wrong. Still it seemed a bit harsh and I didn't know what to do but walk away. Fortunately, she quickly realized that I was an idiot, and clarified her response.
Due to my extended stay in Zermatt, I only had a few days in Lucerne, and one of those was a travel day. Still, it was beautiful and I encountered the Swiss Army! Despite being very peaceful, the Swiss are ready to go to war. My understanding is that all the members of the military keep their weapons at home and are ready to mobilize at a moment's notice. Further, the swiss have placed charges at key border crossings ready to destroy bridges to halt an invasion. My favorite part is that despite being landlocked, the Swiss even have a Navy.
Friday, October 31, 2014
Monday, October 27, 2014
Back to School (Featuring Silvio)
My daughter's school had a Dad's day today. Dads can come in and observe the classes and do menial work like making copies! It was an exciting day.
It started off with reading and math problems. Nothing too exciting, although the technology is pretty cool. There are no more chalkboards, everything is done on a Smart Board. The teachers can project anything up there and then even mark it up with an electronic pen, John Madden style!
Bella had a pretty good mix of girls and boys in the class, a nice number of different ethnicities mixed in too! By far my favorite, next to Bella of course, was her classmate Silvio. He was easily the biggest kid in the class, probably by about a foot. He had a mop of blonde hair, that was only marginally kempt. He was also slightly portly, which added to his character . He looked very much like what I imagine Chris Farley looked like at his age. By far my favorite thing though was that he was wearing this really awesome down vest. First, you don't see a lot of people rocking vests, but I think they are a great invention. Keeps your core warm and leaves your arms free. His vest was awesome though because it was a mix of camouflage patterns but the bulk of the camo was in tye-dye colors! Similar to this
This is the best approximation I could find. I hope he continues to rock the stylish outerwear for a long time. I also really liked that his name was "Silvio" The only other Silvio I have encountered was in the Sopranos. He didn't seem to mind me calling him Sil. I wish I could have convinced him to call me Tony.
The morning was pretty routine. The class rotated between different stations. I was running the number bingo station and doing a hell of a job. The kids had to count by tens and find the matching number on the electronic bingo card. I quickly realized that I probably should not be a 1st grade teacher. It seems that you need to rule with an iron fist, but I love the chaos and kind of encouraged them to be a bit crazy. Time seemed to fly by, we were headed to lunch. Lunch was pretty similar to what I remember. The big difference it seems is that almost all the kids brought their lunch and hardly any bought it. This is the exact opposite of what I remember growing up, almost noone brought in a lunch from home. I sat across from Bella and next to my good buddy Sil. For such a big kid he didn't eat much at lunch. Lunch seemed to take way longer than needed. All the kids were done eating and we still had another 20 minutes it seemed. After lunch was recess.
Recess was largely confined to a playground, an area to play basketball and not much else. There is a much bigger play area in the back, but I think the older kids play there. Most of the kids formed into groups of 5 or 6 and chased each other around. Not Silvio though. This guy loved climbing to the top of the playground and launching himself off the top and hitting the ground. It was probably 10 feet or so and he just loved it. He would tuck and roll and the ground was woodchips so he didn't get hurt. I don't think the other kids had any problems with him, he chose to do his own thing. Another thing I really respected about him.
After recess, we went to Music class. This was pretty chaotic. The kids were still pretty wound up from recess. They were learning about different notes and how to keep a rhythm. The idea was that when a song played they were supposed to walk on their tippie toes for the fast notes and squat down for the longer notes. Most of the kids followed it to some degree, there was a good deal of running on tippie toes, but good old Silvio had other ideas. His idea was that he would run around at full tilt and then do these headfirst slides across the floor. He could tell that I was loving it and cracking up, so I think I egged him on a bit. While they were sitting on the carpet learning the next activity, he was wrestling with this other kid, just a madman. At the end of class, we got rhythm sticks, essentially drum sticks. Silvio and I were goofing off, he put his on the top of his head like antenna, I put them in my mouth like walrus tusks etc. Only Silvio got caught though, he had to go to a brief time out. I felt a little bad that I had gotten him in trouble, but he didn't hold it against me. We were supposed to keep tapping the rhythm sticks to the song. Silvio alternated between tapping his sticks as hard and loud as he possible could, to pretending they were num-chucks, to breaking into an air guitar session.
Gym followed Music Class. We immediately started off with two laps around the school. Silvio, true to form, started out at a full sprint. Unfortunately, he was unable to keep up the pace and fell to a walk pretty early on into the first lap. I ran with Bella and we convinced him to come along with us. He seemed pretty winded, but he obviously has the heart of a damn lion and kept up with us. In gym, they were learning about different ways of moving and different paths. They were broken up into 6 groups and played follow the leader. One group would skip in a curve line, the next would gallop in a zig zag etc. Silvio was initially number 3 in his group, but wanted to be number 2. The only rule was that you couldn't pass people. That was one too many for Silvio. He just bowled over the kid in front of him, while skipping, to ensure that he would be number 2.
The last part of the day consisted of learning about continents, countries and states. Poor Silvio was having trouble sitting still, and had to leave the group a few times. It didn't seem to phase him. I noticed that he was sitting next to another adult at one point. I guessed that it was his Dad, but he seemed like a totally normal guy. I was hoping for a similar outrageous fashion and hair choice.
As we were leaving class at the end of the day, I saw Silvio in the hall. I asked him if he had been sitting next to his Dad. He explained that he had been. He then said something that I don't think I will forget. He explained that the guy used to be his Cousin's dad. Without skipping a beat he explained that his Dad died. And he was rock solid about it. I still have trouble coming to terms with my Dad's death even now. Silvio seemed to take it all in stride. I wouldn't expect anything less from him.
It started off with reading and math problems. Nothing too exciting, although the technology is pretty cool. There are no more chalkboards, everything is done on a Smart Board. The teachers can project anything up there and then even mark it up with an electronic pen, John Madden style!
Bella had a pretty good mix of girls and boys in the class, a nice number of different ethnicities mixed in too! By far my favorite, next to Bella of course, was her classmate Silvio. He was easily the biggest kid in the class, probably by about a foot. He had a mop of blonde hair, that was only marginally kempt. He was also slightly portly, which added to his character . He looked very much like what I imagine Chris Farley looked like at his age. By far my favorite thing though was that he was wearing this really awesome down vest. First, you don't see a lot of people rocking vests, but I think they are a great invention. Keeps your core warm and leaves your arms free. His vest was awesome though because it was a mix of camouflage patterns but the bulk of the camo was in tye-dye colors! Similar to this
This is the best approximation I could find. I hope he continues to rock the stylish outerwear for a long time. I also really liked that his name was "Silvio" The only other Silvio I have encountered was in the Sopranos. He didn't seem to mind me calling him Sil. I wish I could have convinced him to call me Tony.
The morning was pretty routine. The class rotated between different stations. I was running the number bingo station and doing a hell of a job. The kids had to count by tens and find the matching number on the electronic bingo card. I quickly realized that I probably should not be a 1st grade teacher. It seems that you need to rule with an iron fist, but I love the chaos and kind of encouraged them to be a bit crazy. Time seemed to fly by, we were headed to lunch. Lunch was pretty similar to what I remember. The big difference it seems is that almost all the kids brought their lunch and hardly any bought it. This is the exact opposite of what I remember growing up, almost noone brought in a lunch from home. I sat across from Bella and next to my good buddy Sil. For such a big kid he didn't eat much at lunch. Lunch seemed to take way longer than needed. All the kids were done eating and we still had another 20 minutes it seemed. After lunch was recess.
Recess was largely confined to a playground, an area to play basketball and not much else. There is a much bigger play area in the back, but I think the older kids play there. Most of the kids formed into groups of 5 or 6 and chased each other around. Not Silvio though. This guy loved climbing to the top of the playground and launching himself off the top and hitting the ground. It was probably 10 feet or so and he just loved it. He would tuck and roll and the ground was woodchips so he didn't get hurt. I don't think the other kids had any problems with him, he chose to do his own thing. Another thing I really respected about him.
After recess, we went to Music class. This was pretty chaotic. The kids were still pretty wound up from recess. They were learning about different notes and how to keep a rhythm. The idea was that when a song played they were supposed to walk on their tippie toes for the fast notes and squat down for the longer notes. Most of the kids followed it to some degree, there was a good deal of running on tippie toes, but good old Silvio had other ideas. His idea was that he would run around at full tilt and then do these headfirst slides across the floor. He could tell that I was loving it and cracking up, so I think I egged him on a bit. While they were sitting on the carpet learning the next activity, he was wrestling with this other kid, just a madman. At the end of class, we got rhythm sticks, essentially drum sticks. Silvio and I were goofing off, he put his on the top of his head like antenna, I put them in my mouth like walrus tusks etc. Only Silvio got caught though, he had to go to a brief time out. I felt a little bad that I had gotten him in trouble, but he didn't hold it against me. We were supposed to keep tapping the rhythm sticks to the song. Silvio alternated between tapping his sticks as hard and loud as he possible could, to pretending they were num-chucks, to breaking into an air guitar session.
Gym followed Music Class. We immediately started off with two laps around the school. Silvio, true to form, started out at a full sprint. Unfortunately, he was unable to keep up the pace and fell to a walk pretty early on into the first lap. I ran with Bella and we convinced him to come along with us. He seemed pretty winded, but he obviously has the heart of a damn lion and kept up with us. In gym, they were learning about different ways of moving and different paths. They were broken up into 6 groups and played follow the leader. One group would skip in a curve line, the next would gallop in a zig zag etc. Silvio was initially number 3 in his group, but wanted to be number 2. The only rule was that you couldn't pass people. That was one too many for Silvio. He just bowled over the kid in front of him, while skipping, to ensure that he would be number 2.
The last part of the day consisted of learning about continents, countries and states. Poor Silvio was having trouble sitting still, and had to leave the group a few times. It didn't seem to phase him. I noticed that he was sitting next to another adult at one point. I guessed that it was his Dad, but he seemed like a totally normal guy. I was hoping for a similar outrageous fashion and hair choice.
As we were leaving class at the end of the day, I saw Silvio in the hall. I asked him if he had been sitting next to his Dad. He explained that he had been. He then said something that I don't think I will forget. He explained that the guy used to be his Cousin's dad. Without skipping a beat he explained that his Dad died. And he was rock solid about it. I still have trouble coming to terms with my Dad's death even now. Silvio seemed to take it all in stride. I wouldn't expect anything less from him.
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
Simpler Times
There has not been a Camp related story on here for a bit. This one is less of a story and more of a reflection ...
My understanding is that there is now wireless internet available pretty much across Camp. This is probably a good thing, but like an old geezer I have to lament the news and harken back to the "good old days"
Part of the appeal of those summers was that it was somewhat of an escape. You really didn't need to ever leave, all your meals were taken care of, almost all the jobs (at least the ones I did) were very low stress. I think that if you were a camp director there is more stress because you are managing people, but my summers as a guide were very relaxing. You went the whole summer with comparatively little communication. There were two payphones and only a couple of other phones that could dial outside of the camp. I think I would call home a couple of times over the summer but that was it.
I think that is why I became such close friends with certain people. Although the camp season was only a couple months, you saw these people everyday and socialized with them frequently. There was no TV, there was one computer that had internet access, but it was for official use only. I never felt the need to check the news or the internet. For those summer months, Camp was my world. I was almost never bored either. I am sure it was tougher for some of the Dads that came up with the Troops and had to stay in contact with their work, but I think they probably enjoyed it too.
One Saturday, after all the campers had left, there were a few of us sitting around the Summit Base office on the porch. It was a lovely summer day, lots of sun but cool enough that you did not bake on the porch. The office is in a very appealing area, there are tall pine trees that shake with the wind. There is a lovely old wall that runs alongside the office with day lillies flowering in the gap between the wall and the office. We were swapping stories, and there was a radio on in the background. I don't know why this sticks out so clearly, but I remember the song "Too Old to Rock and Roll" by Jethro Tull came on. I had never heard it before, but thought it was a great tune. Luckily the Load was familiar with it and passed on the info. For whatever reason, when that song comes on it always brings me back to that moment on the porch. The funny thing is that it was no different from 100s of other times I had hung out on that porch swapping stories, but that moment has always stuck with me.
My understanding is that there is now wireless internet available pretty much across Camp. This is probably a good thing, but like an old geezer I have to lament the news and harken back to the "good old days"
Part of the appeal of those summers was that it was somewhat of an escape. You really didn't need to ever leave, all your meals were taken care of, almost all the jobs (at least the ones I did) were very low stress. I think that if you were a camp director there is more stress because you are managing people, but my summers as a guide were very relaxing. You went the whole summer with comparatively little communication. There were two payphones and only a couple of other phones that could dial outside of the camp. I think I would call home a couple of times over the summer but that was it.
I think that is why I became such close friends with certain people. Although the camp season was only a couple months, you saw these people everyday and socialized with them frequently. There was no TV, there was one computer that had internet access, but it was for official use only. I never felt the need to check the news or the internet. For those summer months, Camp was my world. I was almost never bored either. I am sure it was tougher for some of the Dads that came up with the Troops and had to stay in contact with their work, but I think they probably enjoyed it too.
One Saturday, after all the campers had left, there were a few of us sitting around the Summit Base office on the porch. It was a lovely summer day, lots of sun but cool enough that you did not bake on the porch. The office is in a very appealing area, there are tall pine trees that shake with the wind. There is a lovely old wall that runs alongside the office with day lillies flowering in the gap between the wall and the office. We were swapping stories, and there was a radio on in the background. I don't know why this sticks out so clearly, but I remember the song "Too Old to Rock and Roll" by Jethro Tull came on. I had never heard it before, but thought it was a great tune. Luckily the Load was familiar with it and passed on the info. For whatever reason, when that song comes on it always brings me back to that moment on the porch. The funny thing is that it was no different from 100s of other times I had hung out on that porch swapping stories, but that moment has always stuck with me.
Monday, October 20, 2014
Empty Promises
I was at a store the other day that had the following sign next to the register: "If you request a receipt and you are not given one, your purchase is free"
I don't know where the whole idea of getting something for free if no receipt is provided came from, but I have never seen one where you are required to ask for the receipt. I can see this resulting in very few free products. I think you only win if:
1. The receipt printer is either broken or out of paper - but I suppose they could always handwrite a receipt; or
2. You have an exceptionally beligerent employee. The type of guy who, when asked for a receipt, looks you square in the eyes and tells you to go to hell. It would be entertaining to see though. I also tend to think that the type of guy who refuses to hand over a receipt, even when specifically requested, is probably not too eager to process a refund.
But, they get to put up the sign. I also tend to believe that whether a business is particularly dilligent in handing out receipts has little effect on whether a customer shops there or not. The only thing that would possibly deter me was if a store adopted an absolute zero tolerance policy on providing receipts and ruled with an iron fist, or if they charged extra for a receipt.
In my experience, you almost always see this at fast food places. Maybe it is to ensure that employees are ringing in the sale? But, if you were going to give someone free food, wouldn't you not ring it in? Someone getting the food for free is not going to complain about not receiving a receipt. Well - I googled it, apparently it is to stop employees from pocketing the money. That makes a lot more sense. But, only for stores that provide the receipt without the customer needing to ask. The 100% receipt policy basically means that the first time an employee pockets the money, the customer will say something since they want free stuff. But, if you are required to ask for it first, the thieving employee gets a chance to change course. It is win win for the thief. He can steal from the majority of people who don't care about getting a receipt. He only has to be honest with those who do ask for receipts, which is the minority in my opinion.
These are the puzzles that keep me guessing. At least it is not another biking story. Although, I did attend a bike expo over the weekend where I got to ride a super fancy bike. It was a lot of fun.
I don't know where the whole idea of getting something for free if no receipt is provided came from, but I have never seen one where you are required to ask for the receipt. I can see this resulting in very few free products. I think you only win if:
1. The receipt printer is either broken or out of paper - but I suppose they could always handwrite a receipt; or
2. You have an exceptionally beligerent employee. The type of guy who, when asked for a receipt, looks you square in the eyes and tells you to go to hell. It would be entertaining to see though. I also tend to think that the type of guy who refuses to hand over a receipt, even when specifically requested, is probably not too eager to process a refund.
But, they get to put up the sign. I also tend to believe that whether a business is particularly dilligent in handing out receipts has little effect on whether a customer shops there or not. The only thing that would possibly deter me was if a store adopted an absolute zero tolerance policy on providing receipts and ruled with an iron fist, or if they charged extra for a receipt.
In my experience, you almost always see this at fast food places. Maybe it is to ensure that employees are ringing in the sale? But, if you were going to give someone free food, wouldn't you not ring it in? Someone getting the food for free is not going to complain about not receiving a receipt. Well - I googled it, apparently it is to stop employees from pocketing the money. That makes a lot more sense. But, only for stores that provide the receipt without the customer needing to ask. The 100% receipt policy basically means that the first time an employee pockets the money, the customer will say something since they want free stuff. But, if you are required to ask for it first, the thieving employee gets a chance to change course. It is win win for the thief. He can steal from the majority of people who don't care about getting a receipt. He only has to be honest with those who do ask for receipts, which is the minority in my opinion.
These are the puzzles that keep me guessing. At least it is not another biking story. Although, I did attend a bike expo over the weekend where I got to ride a super fancy bike. It was a lot of fun.
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
In the Club
Yesterday was an exciting ride. I believe it had to do with a combination of fresh legs because I had not cycled in a few days and a bit of a tailwind. I felt like I was riding quite a bit quicker than normal.
My ride is broken into a few distinct segments. The first segment, which is thankfully the shortage, is navigating the mean streets of DC, including one section where I have to time the lights right to cross a total of 8 lanes of traffic. Fortunately there are a number of islands that provide refuge, but it is still very similar to Frogger. This section usually goes pretty well. Most of the time motorists are pretty considerate of cyclists and due to the congestion in the city I can usually keep uf with traffic. One time, I was able to get behind a big tour bus and draft off of it. The pedaling was easy, the diesel laden fumes, not so much. The nicest part of this section is cycling over a bridge. It has a dedicated cycling lane, separated from the vehicles with a sturdy barrier. The bridge is along the approach to Regan National Airport, so there are usually a few jets thundering in overhead.
The Second part involves cycling along the Potomac, this is always a highlight. The trail is flat, there is usually a lot happening on the river and this part of the trail is surprisingly lightly travelled. Unfortunately, this section is only a few miles. At the conclusion of this section there is a pretty steady climb next to a busy road. It is along this section that I frequently pass people on the uphills and get passed on the downhills. This part feels more like you are simply pedaling along a sidewalk that just happens to be a bike trail. Indeed, that is what it is. They do a good job of separating the busy road from the trail with a high barrier, but it is still very noisy. This trail was not converted from an old railway line like so many bike trails are, so there are steep grades and tight turns.
The third section is the longest, 14 of the 25 miles are on the Washington and Old Dominion Trail. This trail is very well maintained and quite pleasant. The only drawback is that there are a lot of road crossings. Although most drivers will cede the right of way to you, you still have to slow down to a speed where you can stop. For the very busy crossings, like over major highways, the trail goes over the road.
There is a 5 mile section towards the end that has no road crossings and is flat or even perhaps a downhill. This is where you can really cruise and yesterday I was feeling very strong on this section. As I was bashing along, I hear this voice behind me say "I'm going to ride your wheel for a bit" So I turned around and this rather fit woman on a road bike was taking the liberty of drafting off me. I had no problem with this. In fact it encouraged me to push harder. After a mile or so, she indicated that she was passing me and told me "thanks for the pull" I now felt like I was part of the club! She passed me and pulled a bit ahead, and together we passed this other guy who was all decked out. He was none too happy about this and came zooming past a short time later!
Unfortunately, all good things must end and the trail begins to climb again. Not overly steep, but definitely noticeable. I figured I had one last chance to pass the drafter, so I dug in hard and pushed as hard as I could up the hill. My legs were burning, but I was definitely making progress. Finally, I passed her but realized that I had very little left in the tank. Fortunately, but unbeknownst to me, she was pulling off at the next parking lot. Once she was no longer behind me, my pace slowed markedly. At this point there was only a few miles to go though. After recovering for about a mile, I was able to push along again and got home in good time.
It was pretty warm and humid yesterday, and I was pushing hard, so I was soaked in sweat. One other interesting thing about Erin is that she is extremely against wet clothes. If any of her clothes gets wet, she will insist on taking them off, regardless of where she is. She applies the same standards to me and as soon as I came in, stopped what she was doing, and proceeded upstairs to get me a dry shirt. She was adamant that I put it on. We are supposed to get a ton of rain this afternoon, I can only imagine what her reaction will be.
My ride is broken into a few distinct segments. The first segment, which is thankfully the shortage, is navigating the mean streets of DC, including one section where I have to time the lights right to cross a total of 8 lanes of traffic. Fortunately there are a number of islands that provide refuge, but it is still very similar to Frogger. This section usually goes pretty well. Most of the time motorists are pretty considerate of cyclists and due to the congestion in the city I can usually keep uf with traffic. One time, I was able to get behind a big tour bus and draft off of it. The pedaling was easy, the diesel laden fumes, not so much. The nicest part of this section is cycling over a bridge. It has a dedicated cycling lane, separated from the vehicles with a sturdy barrier. The bridge is along the approach to Regan National Airport, so there are usually a few jets thundering in overhead.
The Second part involves cycling along the Potomac, this is always a highlight. The trail is flat, there is usually a lot happening on the river and this part of the trail is surprisingly lightly travelled. Unfortunately, this section is only a few miles. At the conclusion of this section there is a pretty steady climb next to a busy road. It is along this section that I frequently pass people on the uphills and get passed on the downhills. This part feels more like you are simply pedaling along a sidewalk that just happens to be a bike trail. Indeed, that is what it is. They do a good job of separating the busy road from the trail with a high barrier, but it is still very noisy. This trail was not converted from an old railway line like so many bike trails are, so there are steep grades and tight turns.
The third section is the longest, 14 of the 25 miles are on the Washington and Old Dominion Trail. This trail is very well maintained and quite pleasant. The only drawback is that there are a lot of road crossings. Although most drivers will cede the right of way to you, you still have to slow down to a speed where you can stop. For the very busy crossings, like over major highways, the trail goes over the road.
There is a 5 mile section towards the end that has no road crossings and is flat or even perhaps a downhill. This is where you can really cruise and yesterday I was feeling very strong on this section. As I was bashing along, I hear this voice behind me say "I'm going to ride your wheel for a bit" So I turned around and this rather fit woman on a road bike was taking the liberty of drafting off me. I had no problem with this. In fact it encouraged me to push harder. After a mile or so, she indicated that she was passing me and told me "thanks for the pull" I now felt like I was part of the club! She passed me and pulled a bit ahead, and together we passed this other guy who was all decked out. He was none too happy about this and came zooming past a short time later!
Unfortunately, all good things must end and the trail begins to climb again. Not overly steep, but definitely noticeable. I figured I had one last chance to pass the drafter, so I dug in hard and pushed as hard as I could up the hill. My legs were burning, but I was definitely making progress. Finally, I passed her but realized that I had very little left in the tank. Fortunately, but unbeknownst to me, she was pulling off at the next parking lot. Once she was no longer behind me, my pace slowed markedly. At this point there was only a few miles to go though. After recovering for about a mile, I was able to push along again and got home in good time.
It was pretty warm and humid yesterday, and I was pushing hard, so I was soaked in sweat. One other interesting thing about Erin is that she is extremely against wet clothes. If any of her clothes gets wet, she will insist on taking them off, regardless of where she is. She applies the same standards to me and as soon as I came in, stopped what she was doing, and proceeded upstairs to get me a dry shirt. She was adamant that I put it on. We are supposed to get a ton of rain this afternoon, I can only imagine what her reaction will be.
Friday, October 10, 2014
Race Wars
First, an aside. As I was riding home yesterday I saw a young lady who had one of the most enviable jobs in the world. At least I think so. She was employed by the National Park Service police and was patrolling the bike path on horseback. It was a beautiful afternoon, this part of the bike path runs right by the Potomac and she looked like she had no cares in the world. Of course, I am sure her life is far from perfect, but it did seem like an enviable job. Anyway.....
Recently, I put new tires on my bike. They are substantially thinner and do not have an aggressive tread pattern like my old tires. Also, I can inflate them to a much higher pressure. As a result, my bike is much faster. However, it is still a mountain bike with a front suspension and a beefy frame.
There is a portion of my ride home that involves some pretty good hills. I often pass people on pretty expensive road bikes on these hills. For whatever reason, this pisses some of them off. It then becomes a bit of a race. The pattern is usually the same, I can go faster up the hills, but on the downslopes the thin tires and more aerodynamic set ups make the road bikes a bit faster. So you get into one of those patterns where you are constantly passing/getting past. It is not that big of a deal usually. However, yesterday I had a guy who was just being an asshole. He was decked out in all the gear, had an expensive bike but was terrible on the hills. Even while standing on the pedals he was slow and I would pass him. He would pass by me when there wasn't really any room, usually on downhills and anytime we went up a hill he was constantly looking over his shoulder to see where I was. Luckily, he did not go very far and peeled off the trail. It was just bizzare though. I could understand if it was a race, but I guess it is a pride thing.
The other bizzare thing I see is one dude that I pass going the opposite way nearly everyday at the same location. He rides this super heavy duty bike and is loaded down with all sorts of gear like a tent, sleeping bag, essentially looks like he is bike touring. However, I strongly suspect that he is not, given that I pass him on such a regular occasion. The only other thing I can think is that he has no sense of adventure, but loves looking like he does!
Recently, I put new tires on my bike. They are substantially thinner and do not have an aggressive tread pattern like my old tires. Also, I can inflate them to a much higher pressure. As a result, my bike is much faster. However, it is still a mountain bike with a front suspension and a beefy frame.
There is a portion of my ride home that involves some pretty good hills. I often pass people on pretty expensive road bikes on these hills. For whatever reason, this pisses some of them off. It then becomes a bit of a race. The pattern is usually the same, I can go faster up the hills, but on the downslopes the thin tires and more aerodynamic set ups make the road bikes a bit faster. So you get into one of those patterns where you are constantly passing/getting past. It is not that big of a deal usually. However, yesterday I had a guy who was just being an asshole. He was decked out in all the gear, had an expensive bike but was terrible on the hills. Even while standing on the pedals he was slow and I would pass him. He would pass by me when there wasn't really any room, usually on downhills and anytime we went up a hill he was constantly looking over his shoulder to see where I was. Luckily, he did not go very far and peeled off the trail. It was just bizzare though. I could understand if it was a race, but I guess it is a pride thing.
The other bizzare thing I see is one dude that I pass going the opposite way nearly everyday at the same location. He rides this super heavy duty bike and is loaded down with all sorts of gear like a tent, sleeping bag, essentially looks like he is bike touring. However, I strongly suspect that he is not, given that I pass him on such a regular occasion. The only other thing I can think is that he has no sense of adventure, but loves looking like he does!
Monday, October 6, 2014
A century - sort of - and carnies
"In a way, you are all number one, in a much more real way Barney is number one" - The Simpsons "Deep Space Homer"
In a way, this is post number 100 on the blog. In a much more real way, it is not. The Load and I have written 100 posts, but not all of them have been published. Some need more polishing (if you can believe we have standards for what is put on here!) and others probably will never be posted. I think this is published post #90.
On Sunday, we went to a local fair. It was very well attended, perhaps too well attended. Huge lines for everything. We only were able to hit up a handful of attractions while we were there, but each one makes for somewhat of an interesting story:
1. The Face Painters. My girls love getting their face painted, so I have quite a bit of experience with different vendors. Usually, attractions that are popular for kids like zoos and aquariums employ some very talented face painters. They charge more than I am comfortable with forking over, but I tend to have no willpower when it comes to my girls. They usually do an excellent job and are very fast. On the other end of the spectrum, at certains fairs or festivals you tend to see people setting up a booth on an ad hoc basis. Typically, these are people that are new to the business and probably have never done face painting before. Usually these people charge very little or no charge. Such was the case at the fair. These two high school girls were doing god's work, for no charge. They were determined to give each child a special experience. Unfortunately, this meant that they were extremely slow. So we waited and waited. It wasn't so bad for the girls, there was a big grassy area next to the face painting area where they went to play. The most amusing part of the whole experience was the Dad behind me. He kept saying "This is ridiculous" and "Why the hell isn't this line moving" Things I was certainly thinking. Of course his wife had to do the delicate act of calming him down, while not pushing him over the edge. Entertaining dialouge. When it was our turn, there was a detailed Q&A before any paint was applied to the face. It was truly customized, down to what color glitter the girls wanted with their paint. The other thing I noticed is that you could request whatever the hell you wanted. This is also different from the commercial places that have a set menu of options. If the girls didn't know what you were requesting, they would look it up on their phone, further increasing the wait time. Still the girls got their faces painted and those two face painters seemed to be tireless, never taking a break.
2. The Petting Zoo. The line for the petting zoo was so long that you didn't simply filter through it. Rather, they employed the exact opposite strategy of the face painters. There was a set number of people let in for exactly five minutes. You could spend those five minutes however you wanted, but that was all you got. I was waiting in line for the pony rides, so did not get to experience it first hand. But, apparently the guy who was running it ruled with an iron fist. It was truly a whirlwind experience. That line did move quite quickly though.
3. The Carnies. Bella likes to go on faster rides now, not just merry go rounds. So she wanted to go on a ride that was essentially swings that went round in a circle pretty fast. Unfortunately, Erin was too short to ride, and she was furious about it. So while Bella was having the time of her life, Erin was balling her eyes out and trying her best to squeeze through the fence and get on the ride. Fortunately, Erin is as quick to cheer up as she is to fly into a rage, so as soon as it was over she went on the Merry go round and was a happy camper. The last ride we went on was this mini rollercoaster. Both the girls were tall enough, provided that Erin rode with me. Typically, carnies are not known for their attention to detail or being safety oriented. We had the exception though. He only let one kid in at a time and had his own personal measuring stick and followed the height restrictions to a T. He was not taking any guff or sympathy, he had no problem turning a kid away if he missed the cut off by an 1/8 of an inch. But apparently, once you got on the ride, all bets were off. He told me that I would have to sit next to Erin, but she of course wanted to sit next to Bella. So, they sat together and he let it slide. He also had no problem with me sitting sideways in the car in front of them so I could watch them. He didn't even make me buckle up. I think his theory is that he was simply the gate keeper, once people got through it was out of his hands. The girls loved the rollercoaster and were happy to leave after that. Which was good, because we had been there for hours!
In a way, this is post number 100 on the blog. In a much more real way, it is not. The Load and I have written 100 posts, but not all of them have been published. Some need more polishing (if you can believe we have standards for what is put on here!) and others probably will never be posted. I think this is published post #90.
On Sunday, we went to a local fair. It was very well attended, perhaps too well attended. Huge lines for everything. We only were able to hit up a handful of attractions while we were there, but each one makes for somewhat of an interesting story:
1. The Face Painters. My girls love getting their face painted, so I have quite a bit of experience with different vendors. Usually, attractions that are popular for kids like zoos and aquariums employ some very talented face painters. They charge more than I am comfortable with forking over, but I tend to have no willpower when it comes to my girls. They usually do an excellent job and are very fast. On the other end of the spectrum, at certains fairs or festivals you tend to see people setting up a booth on an ad hoc basis. Typically, these are people that are new to the business and probably have never done face painting before. Usually these people charge very little or no charge. Such was the case at the fair. These two high school girls were doing god's work, for no charge. They were determined to give each child a special experience. Unfortunately, this meant that they were extremely slow. So we waited and waited. It wasn't so bad for the girls, there was a big grassy area next to the face painting area where they went to play. The most amusing part of the whole experience was the Dad behind me. He kept saying "This is ridiculous" and "Why the hell isn't this line moving" Things I was certainly thinking. Of course his wife had to do the delicate act of calming him down, while not pushing him over the edge. Entertaining dialouge. When it was our turn, there was a detailed Q&A before any paint was applied to the face. It was truly customized, down to what color glitter the girls wanted with their paint. The other thing I noticed is that you could request whatever the hell you wanted. This is also different from the commercial places that have a set menu of options. If the girls didn't know what you were requesting, they would look it up on their phone, further increasing the wait time. Still the girls got their faces painted and those two face painters seemed to be tireless, never taking a break.
2. The Petting Zoo. The line for the petting zoo was so long that you didn't simply filter through it. Rather, they employed the exact opposite strategy of the face painters. There was a set number of people let in for exactly five minutes. You could spend those five minutes however you wanted, but that was all you got. I was waiting in line for the pony rides, so did not get to experience it first hand. But, apparently the guy who was running it ruled with an iron fist. It was truly a whirlwind experience. That line did move quite quickly though.
3. The Carnies. Bella likes to go on faster rides now, not just merry go rounds. So she wanted to go on a ride that was essentially swings that went round in a circle pretty fast. Unfortunately, Erin was too short to ride, and she was furious about it. So while Bella was having the time of her life, Erin was balling her eyes out and trying her best to squeeze through the fence and get on the ride. Fortunately, Erin is as quick to cheer up as she is to fly into a rage, so as soon as it was over she went on the Merry go round and was a happy camper. The last ride we went on was this mini rollercoaster. Both the girls were tall enough, provided that Erin rode with me. Typically, carnies are not known for their attention to detail or being safety oriented. We had the exception though. He only let one kid in at a time and had his own personal measuring stick and followed the height restrictions to a T. He was not taking any guff or sympathy, he had no problem turning a kid away if he missed the cut off by an 1/8 of an inch. But apparently, once you got on the ride, all bets were off. He told me that I would have to sit next to Erin, but she of course wanted to sit next to Bella. So, they sat together and he let it slide. He also had no problem with me sitting sideways in the car in front of them so I could watch them. He didn't even make me buckle up. I think his theory is that he was simply the gate keeper, once people got through it was out of his hands. The girls loved the rollercoaster and were happy to leave after that. Which was good, because we had been there for hours!
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