Current Update Report: (20100227)

Bicycling Enthusiasts:

Usually this time of year the biking is pretty crappy in Wisconsin.  While 
some may disagree with this, I don't think it is so much the kind of weather 
we have, it is our winter road conditions.  Generally in January and February 
it isn't warm enough to melt anything that is stuck to the road, and when it 
snows, what doesn't get moved off the road by the plow, just turns to icy 
slush, freezes, and sticks for weeks.  But amazingly not this year.  Yes, 
we've had some snow; like probably an inch or so this week even. What 
happens, though, is that it'll snow a quarter or half inch at night, and then 
the salt which is already on the roads, or that which is put on again, has it 
melted by noon.  Then by 3:00 in the afternoon, when the temps get up high 
enough to ride (above 25, usually), most roads have dried out.  The result is 
that it actually has been a great year so far for biking outside.  And I can 
tell it is much better that the last few years because Dewey Road, you know 
up on that western part in the shade that always has snow and ice all the way 
across it making it impassible, is fully open this week.  Hmmm.  Does this 
mean we'll be having an early spring and hot summer?

Maybe predicting the future weather patterns based on how soon and long roads 
stay open in the winter probably isn't going to replace Punxsutawney Phil.  
So, it probably is good we just stick with the good feeling that there are a 
lot fewer "Bad Road Days" (remember those?) than we've had in the past--which 
makes it seem like we have unlimited route choices these biking days. Ah, 
free at last!

Ride into spring.

    Jack

Bicycling Friends:

I am pretty sure many, most, or maybe all of us operate this way.  But it might be 
helpful for those who ask me how it is that I can ride so many miles every year 
for me to explain just one part of the puzzle.  It kind of goes like this:  It was 
about 5:30 AM when I came in from "shoveling" the light dusting this morning and 
started for the shower.  I figured the small amount of fluff wasn't going to clog 
up the roads too much and sometime around noon, when things warmed a bit and it 
turned to salt water, I could make it out for an hour or so on my trusty winter 
bike, Ol' True Blue.  So, I had to think hard for a bit when Jeanette offered to go 
riding on the trainer before work.  Alas, since winter is quite a lonely time for 
bike riders (not many group rides going on!), and since I wanted to ride today, I 
decided to take her up on the invitation.   I chose our "Dewey" film because we 
hadn't ridden it in a while and it would give me around 23 miles for the 1.2 
hours, if I would ride at 17 mph (170 watts at 101 rpm).  This is a nice effort 
for me for chatting, which we did.  But I still watched what I was doing.  Like, 
somewhere about half way between North Point and Jordan, making a point to ride 
the drops for the time it took to reach the "Stop Ahead" sign at corner of N. 
Reserve and Jordan.  Or riding out of the saddle all the way back up N. Reserve on 
the return leg.   Doing this for the duration resulted in a nice visit with my 
wife, a light-moderate workout, and 22.5 trainer miles for my log.

Breaking up our riding/training goals into small, "bit-sized" portions is 
something we all do, isn't it?  And it really makes even more sense during this 
part of the season, when, on those cold, dreary, lonely rides, just making it to 
the next stop-ahead sign can be a big effort—and accomplishment!  And those big 
(little) accomplishment can, and do, add up.  Don’t' they?

Seasons greetings….

    Jack

Bicycle Enthusiasts:

A Thursday or two ago a friend and I were riding out West River Drive on a "work 
out" ride.  This is the kind of ride where you try to get your heart rate way up 
there and basically ride for as long as you can; you know, working out.  This kind 
of riding can be fun, but is usually agonizingly brutal.  So it is somewhat better 
to take along a buddy to dampen the misery a bit while taking turns driving into 
the wind.  Anyway, we were out there suffering up a storm coming back on Hwy C 
trying to keep the pace up in what was supposed to be a nice tailwind, but wasn't.  
Normally in these situations you have everything you can do to just keep peddling 
and trying to recover some when in the draft, so my partner didn't see until I 
pointed it out the surprising autumn scene unfolding in front of us.  We had missed 
the rain, but the skies still were gray with black streaks as the sun set behind 
us.  Through a small slit in the clouds, for about 2  minutes, the sun shown bright 
yellow- orange onto the fall-colored maple trees ahead of us, making them seem 
florescent as they stood out against the gray and darkening sky.  "Wow," he said. 
"I was only seeing road until you pointed that out."  We watched for a second or 
two, but then put our heads back down and continued our "death march"; albeit 
feeling things were a bit less arduous.

In life as in biking, getting caught up in the moment and the "heat of the battle" 
can sometimes blind us to things around us—-things that ought not to be missed, 
things that make life more worthwhile.  So, be sure to notice them, and grab them 
when you can, to be "seen" later when things are gray and gloomy, you are suffer-
ing, and you need things to be a bit less onerous.
 
So, keep riding...and searching!

     Jack

Fellow cyclists:

At last Sunday's great ride from Rusty's I showed up on my low-rider, 
recumbent trike--the only bike I'm able to ride outside and in groups 
because of the danger of re-injuring myself falling off an upright bike.  
At the beginning of the ride I was suggesting that I probably look like a 
real "Fred", you know, those dorky-looking bike riders with all the stuff 
(like flags, streamers, raccoon tails, etc.) dangling off their bikes.  
You see, my trike, with the help of a friend's bike trailer flag and 
pole, now has two poles and flags, two mirrors, a large bell, a rack on 
the back with a huge pack, fenders on all three wheels with reflector 
tape, a 237-function (or something) cycling computer, and a two-way, 
asynchronous very bright flashing tail light.  I'm not sure where my 
heart rate monitor fits in, but I have that too.  So, on that low-riding 
3-wheeled tricycle, with me in my neck brace and helmet perched on top of 
my head, I must really catch the eye of folks.  Of course, being noticed 
and not run over by motorist, is the reason for having most of that stuff 
on the bike.  I only have to hope an angry or just plain mean driver 
doesn't run me over on purpose!

Sometimes in biking as in life one needs to take pains to be noticed.  
Standing out has its justifications, but also its dangers.  I'm not sure 
how to protect myself from those who have malice for me, as a "Fred" out 
there.  Do you?

So, I'll see you on the roads, unless, of course, you see me first!!

     Jack

Dear Fellow Bikers:

They say it always takes water longer to boil if you are watching the 
pot.  I'm sure that is the same process that is in effect when the body 
is healing.  Say you scratch your leg or something while mowing the lawn 
or working on that home project or maybe climbing on your bike.  You look 
at it, maybe clean it up a bit, but then you get on with things and it is 
out of your mind.  A few days or a week later, maybe in the shower or 
something, you remember that scratch.  By golly it is all healed.  Gee, 
that was fast!  Another time you maybe scratch or cut yourself on your 
hand right there were you grip your handle bars.  Boy, not only does that 
hurt every time your are riding, but doesn't that take a lot longer to 
heal?  It's like that for me--waiting, and watching every day, of those 
three months the specialist said it would take for my injuries to heal!

While in many ways I've been able to "get on with things" while 
recovering from my biking injuries, still, watching that pot try to boil 
every day sure makes for an excruciating long period of time.

Be that as it may, I AM on the roads (thanks to Mike Z's recumbent 
trike), so I hope to see you soon.  Maybe tomorrow or Sunday?

     Jack

Dear Cycling Friends:

Yesterday, Jeanette (my wife) and I were riding on the Patch Street bike 
trail near McDill pond.  As we were crossing the road there at the 
crosswalk, we saw a group of about five youngsters of various ages, and 
one adult (mom?) coming down the trail on the other side, lining up to 
cross, coming our way.  I noticed that every one of the kids had on a 
helmet, but mom didn't.  So, as we waited for traffic to clear, I called 
over to the group, noting that everyone had helmets except mom.  I told 
her that adults can crash too.  Jeanette chimed in saying (with me 
pointing to my neck brace) broken neck even with a helmet.  It was a 
light and pleasant exchange, smiles all around, despite the serious 
message we were trying to communicate.  After crossing and passing them, 
and as we rode away, as always happens, I thought I should have also 
told this mom that, because of my crash, I was now confined to this 
wheel chair—-my "new" borrowed low-rider, recumbent trike!

Despite successfully hiding it I think, as an avid diamond-frame upright 
road sport cyclist, I have always had a kind of secrete aversion to 
recumbent bikes, even though I have good friends who ride them.  Maybe 
it is because it seems only old people ride recumbents.  So who would 
guess--not I, for sure--that I would be one of them.  And enjoying my 
"new" ride immensely!!  

So, will I see you on the (very smooth) roads soon?  (For an example, 
see Wednesday Evening Fun.) 
 
   Jack

Dear Fellow Cyclists:

Isn't it surprising how we can miss things we don't have; even things 
that we normally think of as bad?  Or how bad things can seem when the 
really bad is gone.  Things like...the wind, for instance.  If one is 
doomed to only ride a bike inside on a trainer, like I am during my 
recovery from my bike crash, quickly one finds there is no wind.  You 
see, I wouldn't call that little whippy breeze from the box fan in the 
room "wind", and I don't think you would either.  Re-circulating the air, 
moist and smelly from the activity and exertion in the room, just doesn't 
come close to the warm and fresh breezes one can feel while riding 
outside on a summer day.  How often is it that we think of the wind as a 
kind of the enemy--dooming, or threatening to doom, our ride to one of 
agony and suffering (at least when riding into the wind)?  Approaching the 
wind as the enemy, if the actual or forecast wind speed starts getting up 
there (you know, like past 15 mph or so), then, no matter what the 
temperature, it becomes too much, and biking plans are scuttled in favor 
of more sheltered activities.  Why is it that we shun, and even 
disparage, the wind so much?

If only we could hang onto, for just a little while, the feelings of 
times that were actually tough, like when temperatures were below 20 
degrees and the wind actually bit your face hard if you tried riding into 
it.  Wouldn't we see how wonderful a little summer wind really is?   And 
how some of us, not by choice, are denied its rejuvenating and uplifting 
affects.

So, go out and feel that wind; or maybe we can just switch places?

    Jack

Dear Fellow Cyclists:

I don't know if you are like this, but I always try to put some variety in 
my bike riding.  Sure, I have regular favorite destinations that require 
pretty much predetermined routes; that are made up of virtually the same 
roads in the same order.  Like my "Lake Emily" ride, where I ride out OH18 
to Custer to 5th to Smokey to Lake Thomas to County Line to Ward to Lake 
Emily Road etc., or the "Causeway Ride", where it's Reserve to Jordan to 2nd 
to X to Ashley to Sunset to Rozak to C to DB etc.  But more often than not, 
I like to mix things up a little, changing slightly the order of the roads 
making up the route, adding a different road or turn, or combining elements 
of one route with that of another. This way I can generally do a ride to a 
particularly scenic area (like Sunset Lake), but it can seem like a 
completely different, and new, route.  The possibilities are almost infinite 
in our area of the world with all our beautiful, rural roads, where we can 
make biking always new and fresh.  Sure, you're like this, aren't you?

So, it would be terrible, wouldn't it, if, for some reason, you would be 
limited physically to only doing certain routes?  If you only had like, say, 
seven or eight specific routes you could only ride.  No changing their 
order, no adding different roads, no turning left instead of right, no 
riding everything backwards.  Just stick to the routes as they unfold--in 
the video.  As nice as it is to be able to ride my bike in an environment as 
close as possible to the real thing (on my trainer to video-taped local bike 
routes because of my recent bike crash injury), I really miss being able to 
mix things up; I truly miss the newness, the freshness, of biking.  

Therefore, please, get out there on those roads and mix it up--if not for 
you, then for me!!

     Jack

Hello Fellow Spring Lovers:

Motivating along Patch Street yesterday, smelling the lilacs and all the 
other blossoms along the path there got me thinking of last year at this 
time (May 24, 2008).  Remembering back then in no way makes this year's 
fragrances any less sweeter--it is always new, springtime.  And yet my 
getting in touch with the sweet air is so very different this year, with the 
dark cloud over me from the grave admonishments of my surgeon.  "Behave 
yourself and I may not have to cut you," referring to my recent neck injury, 
requiring lots of time and patience to heal, or else.  No biking.  No 
driving.  No workouts.  Nothing.  For 3 months.  (Well, 10 weeks and 4 days 
now.)  So my "motivating along" in that sweet air takes on a new shape these 
days--walking.  But watch it, no more than 5 miles a day!

No amount of restrictions will keep me from smelling that sweet, spring air, 
even if it isn't from my bike.  Hmm, maybe you can ride for me then.  Ya, 
why don't you get out your bike and ride it along Patch Street.  But hurry, 
the days of the sweet rides are limited.  The flowers and blossoms will be 
gone before you know it; and I will be that much closer to getting out of 
jail!!  

Enjoy.  And call, text, or email me about YOUR experience with the "sweet 
rides".


     Jack

Hello Fellow Cyclists:

Maybe you remember when Levi Leipheimer touched Lance's rear wheel in the 
Peloton on Stage 3 of the Tour of California this year.  How embarrassing 
for Levi, a seasoned professional bike racer to commit such a rookie 
mistake.  But he got up, brushed himself off, swallowed his pride, and won 
the Tour.  There is a great lesson in that.  Levi is my hero.

So how embarrassed am I to have pulled such a equally rookie mistake as to 
try to fix a broken part on my bike while traveling at 17-18 mph on Old 
Highway 18 on Tuesday?  Getting my thumb into the front wheel spokes stopped 
it dead, throwing me over the bars and straight onto my head.  I am only 
here to talk to you about it because of my brand new, white and red, jersey- 
and bike-matching, Giro helmet!  But there's more, maybe.

What is great, I think, about riding a bike all the time, including 4-5 days 
a week in hard work-outs, is that your body gets used to small traumas, and 
learns to quickly repair itself.  While my injuries (particularly the cracks 
to my neck bones) could certainly have been worse, and will probably keep me 
off the roads until they heal, I believe, in my deluded sort of way, some 
would say, that my recovery will be fast.  You see, my body is used to being 
abused and coming back, day after day, better than ever.

As with Levi' experience, there is a great lesson in my stupidity—don't put 
things, particularly hands, fingers, and feet, close to spinning wheels.  
And also, abuse you body in small ways from time to time, daily if you can, 
so it knows how to make itself better quickly.

So, for sure, I'll see you on the roads real soon.  And watch out Levi!!


     Jack

Hello Fellow Cyclists:

Near the end of our biking vacation in North Carolina recently, I ran into, 
just by chance, a group of road cyclists from Ohio.  We rode together on a long 
descent off Mt. Pisgah (highest point on the Blue Ridge Parkway) 25 miles down 
to the Art Center near Asheville.  I thought, when of one the Ohioan riders 
asked if where I rode in Wisconsin was flat or hilly, that it was a strange 
question to ask someone.  Until I started really thinking about what I had been 
up to all week long there in the mountains.  What a difference to what I was 
used to here in Portage County, where we have to ride miles sometimes just to 
find one little hill!  And, of course, our hills can't come close to the kinds 
of climbs and descents there in the mountains.  On rides the scenes of the 
surrounding mountains and valleys are breath taking, but it is the cycling 
itself that is very different.  For me, it was mostly getting used to the huge 
temperature swings between the long, still, hot (even in 40 degrees) climbs and 
the long, windy, cold (even in 70 degrees) descents.   And grabbing a newspaper 
out of the hands of an empathetic spectator when going over the top to stuff in 
one's jersey for a bit of insulation is not an option.  It is good that 
Wisconsin has cold weather, so having and using cold weather gear is not 
unusual.  It is knowing what and when to have and use it that becomes the 
compelling learning experience.

Being "thrown into" another foreign world where one has to adapt or suffer, and 
maybe even parish, if not careful, can be good for the character.  The old, 
trite saying, "If it doesn't kill you, it'll make you stronger" is somewhat off 
the mark in this case.  It seems more like "smarter", maybe.

It's getting warmer out there--so let's get going!

     Jack

Hello Biking Buffs:

This time of year is terrible.  I'm not talking about the really bad (biking) 
weather we've been having lately, which is pretty bad, with winter's 1-2-3-4… 
punch (of cold then snow then cold then snow then…).  I'm talking about the 
holiday spirit and all that goes with it.  You know, that warm glow of the 
fireplace, the smell of turkey or ham roasting, the sounds of bells outside of 
stores and Christmas tree ornaments being pawed by the cats, the taste of eggnog 
and sugar cookies after a scrumptious evening meal, the good conversations with 
family home for holidays.  All those wonderful things that not only consumes 
one's time, but actually erodes one's desire to get out there and get some 
exercise (bike or ski).  It is so much easier just to relax and enjoy all the 
festive days indoors where it all so warm and loving.  But, somewhere in the 
back of my mind, I'm thinking there, lurking in the shadows, is a price to be 
paid for all this "easy".

Letting go of the hard and suffering for a while maybe okay, I don't know.  But 
it sure does make those needed workouts seem that much harder, doesn't it?  I 
always say that in biking as in life, it is all about what you are used to.  He 
can ride his bike faster/farther/better because he is used to it.  I don't know 
about you, but I sure could get used to all this "easy" very quickly!  Then I 
see it, there, hiding in the bathroom, on the floor near the shower--the scale!

Keep warm and safe; but let's get going again!

     Jack

Hello Biking (and Skiing?) Enthusiasts:

It's been just too long since we have had temperatures above 20 degrees.  And 
there has been so much snow we non-skiing, die-hard bikers, who only get close 
enough to that white frozen stuff to blow or shovel it off our sidewalks and/or 
driveways, are really having a hard time lately.  These record snow falls and 
low temperatures this month, with winter only just a few days old, have really 
cut into outside biking.  Even having new winter equipment (mountain bike) 
hasn't helped very much, and certainly not on a day like today.  What a 
dilemma--temperatures in the low 40s and calm winds, but thick fog and rain in 
the morning, turning to freezing conditions in the afternoon as the mercury dips 
back into the dungeon.  Biking outside in conditions as these is beyond 
suffering; it is down right dangerous.  If you don't get hit by a car whose 
driver can't see you because of the fog and rain, then there's the chance you'll 
go flying into the ditch, or worse, into the undercage of a passing motor 
vehicle, trying to peddle on those foggy, water-turned-ice remote rural roads.  
Give up a perfectly warm winter bike riding day, or go out and become road-kill. 
Tough choice.

Life is filled with tough choices, some tougher than others.  If you are a 
"normal" bike rider, even a Wisconsin winter rider, not going out on a day like 
today is a "no-brainer".  For those of us for which biking is like breathing, 
suffocating in the house on an indoor trainer and loosing a warm winter day when 
there is a major thaw in progress, is beyond difficult and can blind us to the 
possible (or is it the probable?) dire consequences.  Alas, as tough a decision 
it is, and as much I feel a true loss, it's not for me today.  Sometimes there is 
just too much bad with the good.

Keep warm and safe; and happy holidays.

     Jack

Hello Biking Friends:

I don't know, but it is my impression that there is nothing easy about riding a bike in 
the cold weather.  Everything seems infinitely harder.  It's hard right from the start, 
when it takes 20-30 minutes just to get dressed, since long gone are the days of just 
throwing on shorts, a jersey and your shoes in five minutes before heading to the 
garage.  On a day like today, with the temperature hovering around 30 degrees, it 
easily takes five layers of clothes, two or more booties and chemical warmers over the 
shoes, two pairs of gloves, tape on the helmet to keep out the wind and snow, hat and 
earmuffs, and so on just to stay warm.  Then there is all the extra resistance caused 
by 1) the bike's lubricants in/on wheel bearings, peddles, chain, etc. getting cold and 
thick making lots more friction; and 2) the cold air being at least 5 times "thicker" 
than when it's warm, and with all the bulkier clothes, adding drastically to the 
aerodynamic drag.  Then there is the dreariness of the (generally) overcast days; the 
wind that feels twice it's actual speed; the hard, frozen tires that amplify every 
bump; a below-zero wind-chill from a continuous headwind of 15-20 mph, chilling any 
exposed flesh (like the face) and cooling to freezing drinks almost instantly, not to 
mention early darkness.  As hard as it is, it's no wonder there are hardly any riders 
left on the roads.

And yet there may be a bright spot. There is this line from "League of Their Own", do 
you remember it?  It's when Tom Hanks (coach) tells Geena Davis (team catcher), after 
she complains to him about how hard (women's) baseball is: "It's supposed to be hard. 
If it wasn't hard, everyone would do it. The hard...is what makes it great."  I'm so 
very glad to hear that riding this time of year is so exceptionally great!

Bundle up and ride; and experience the great!!

    Jack

Hello fellow bicyclists:

Late this summer we bike riders were treated to the resurfacing, with brand new black-
top, of several popular rural biking roads--turning Paris-Roubaix-type rough roads 
into glassy-smooth surfaces.  Some of us, like me for instance, couldn't get enough 
of these new perfect roads, seeking them out whenever possible. But the past couple 
of days, with all their rain, I've dampened my enthusiasm for riding on these new 
roads.

When it is cold and rainy, like it's been lately, I tend to want to stay close to home;
choosing to ride north on all our familiar biking routes, including some of those newly 
resurfaced roads (like Dewey Road, for one).  Riding in the rain has its own challenges,
the major one of which is how to stay dry and warm with all the water flying around.  
If you are accustomed to riding in the rain, or at least begrudgingly do it once in a
while, you know that the biggest problem with the water isn't that which is falling from
the sky, but, especially if you're on an upright without fenders, that which is coming 
off your wheels, flying up your back and directly onto your feet.  Everything can be 
toasty dry and warm, yet your feet, constantly being drenched in the continuous flow off
your front wheel, can be slopping and squishing in your thoroughly soaked shoes.  And
it is the new, smooth blacktop surfaces that seem to hold the most water, which beads up
or just plain lies on the top in huge pools.  Although the water eventually drains off, 
it is a major issue while the rain is falling, a problem not as pronounced on the older, 
chip-sealed roads that let the water more easily flow off or at least sit below the sur-
face in the cracks between the chips or pebbles. It is for this reason that I now
reluctantly avoid those perfectly smooth roads in favor of the rougher, yet relatively 
dryer, roads when riding in the rain.

I believe and always say that no bike ride is without some adversity, whether it's the
cold, the wind, the clouds, the wet, or even rough, bumpy roads.  And sometimes when 
riding, as it might be in life too, because of changed conditions or a different environ-
ment, it is better to take those rougher roads, avoiding the perfect in favor of that 
which is flawed, yet less adverse.

Even if you've given up riding for the season, the roads are still there wishing you hadn't!

Ride on....

    Jack

Fellow Riders:

Well, eventually, all things must come to an end, so the saying goes.  For several 
years now I have been sending out emails like this--what I refer to as eLetters.  
These email letters contain update information about Heartland Club projects, 
initiatives, and events, as well as some "musings" (thoughts, feelings, impressions, 
reactions) from me regarding my experiences as a road bicyclist.  I have had fun doing 
these eLetters, and have gotten much positive feedback from many of you who, over the 
years, have been, apparently, loyal readers.  And yet, there is not consensus among 
the leadership of Heartland Club that I should continue these eLetters under the 
Heartland name, at least in this form, as they were designed and executed by me.  In 
any case, this will announce to you that I am stepping down as unofficial communica- 
tions person and eLetter sender for the Heartland Club, so this is probably your last 
eLetter authored by me.  The Heartland Steering Committee will be meeting soon to 
discuss the continuation of update information via email, and, if appropriate, appoint 
a person who will be taking over this job as well as performing other duties of a 
communications person/officer that may be required.  In the mean time, you can always 
find up-to-the-date information about the Heartland Bike & Nordic Ski Club and its 
activities on the Heartland Website, which I will continue to maintain to the best of 
my ability with available time.

Something ends, and something else begins.  Change brings loss, but also opportunity.  
Who knows what opportunity awaits us when things change.  Only getting out there, 
where the action is, can we ever discover what it is.  So let's go!
 
Keep the air in your tires and your seat dusted off--the season isn't over yet!

    Jack

Fellow Riders:

Fortunately, it only happens every few years or so. It happens to me every time I get a 
new bike. It's this strange feeling. I don't think it is a feeling of guilt, although I 
sure could get feeling plenty guilty easily enough over spending such a huge chunk of 
money for a mere bicycle. It's more like a feeling of incompetence. Or more precisely, 
a feeling of confusion over whether I am competent enough. Perhaps it is the sort of 
thing many people feel when confronted with changes or situations that have a hallowed 
history or a significance beyond the every day. There's this wonderment about whether 
or not I measure up, am I good enough, for such a change--in my case, for a move to 
such a nice piece of precision machinery. Am I worthy enough for it? How can one tell 
about these things?

Perhaps the answer to a question of worthiness lies in asking this particular question 
the other way around. Is that "nice piece of precision machinery" worthy of ME? And if 
we don't know the answer to either question, maybe there is, after all, a kind of fit 
here--even if it is just that we both are UNWORTHY of each other!! 

Don't stop now....

    Jack

Fellow Cyclists:

I've noticed that I kind of do my bike riding in streaks.  How about you?  I mean, it 
could be physically riding in streaks, like riding more in the summer than the spring 
or fall; or riding more one week over another; or riding more at the beginning of the 
week and less the rest of the week; or maybe just riding more on the weekends.  But for 
me I also ride in streaks mentally.  Some days I just can't wait to get on the bike and 
ride a route I haven't been on for a while or that's new, or to get out there with 
others on a group ride.  Other days, maybe after a long, hard day at work, even though 
I know how much better I will feel afterwards, just changing into biking clothes is a 
real mental struggle. Some days just getting up a hill is a huge psychological and 
physical chore, and other days it is all I can do to keep from attacking every hill in 
sight (as in, "Wow, look at that hill over there!  Let's go!").   I don't know, can we 
get away from riding in streaks?

I guess physical and mental streaks are a part of life with which we need to learn to 
live.  Maybe we should just take advantage of them then, huh?  Sure.  So now I have a 
new biking streak that I'm determined not to end.  I will let you discover what it is, 
and follow along with me, by checking the home page of the Heartland Website.  (Or I 
suppose you could just ask me about it on our next ride, if you don't appreciate 
mysteries, treasure hunting, or the Internet!!)

Riding forever....

    Jack

Fellow Bike Riders:

The past few weeks I've talked with several riders who were lamenting that they hadn't 
yet ridden one hundred miles in one day--that all important "century" ride.  Maybe it 
is like going for that first solo flight as a pilot.  Or perhaps making it to the top 
of that first (real) mountain, dragging your ropes and climbing buddies; or getting 
your black belt in karate; or running that first full marathon.  It is a milestone all 
roadies want to reach at some point in their cycling career.  So, I have an idea for 
you century wanabes.  Last Sunday at the King Corn Ride, when everyone else was happy 
getting 40-60 miles, I rode 100.  Now I did that by riding out to Waupaca (35 miles), 
riding the long route (60 miles), riding "around the block" (5 miles), and then riding 
in the car home with Jeanette.  So, I'd like to propose this: on Saturday, August 23rd 
(Angus Ride), weather permitting, I would ride along with those who have never ridden 
100 miles before in a day out to Waupaca from Stevens Point (35), on the shorter (30-40 
miles) of the rides that start at 1:00 p.m., and back to Point (35) after eating at 
T.W.Martins.  We would have to keep moving, though, riding 18-20 mph, otherwise it 
could get dark on us.  If we got together a group of 3-7 riders, the miles would melt 
away fast, and everyone would end up with a century!!

If you've wanted to ride a century and just couldn't get up the gumption, then this 
might be just for you.  If you think so, call me (715-340-3132) so we can talk about 
it, and maybe I can "sign you up"!  Wouldn't that be great! 

Ride on, and on, and on....  (Or at least past 100 miles!!)

    Jack

Hello Fellow Cyclists:

A few of years ago I bought this old (circa mid-1980s), blue Trek 360.  This old steel 
frame, weighing in at 25+ pounds, is only a 12-speed (a double ring and six in back) 
and has those old down-tube shifters.  It even is equipped with those concave 
once-shinny (heavy) wheel rims that originally came with "white-wall" tires.  New it 
was probably pretty striking, but as I ride it, the reason I bought it in the first 
place, to use in the rain and during the winter, it is usually pretty grungy.  And 
yet, lately, maybe because of the rain we've been having, my "younger" aluminum and 
carbon being in the shop, night riding, etc., I've been spending more time on my blue 
Trek.  So much so that everyone, it seems, keeps asking me where my other (meaning 
newer/better) bike is.  But, despite its age and handicaps, I'm beginning to really 
like it.  I mean, I like that it is fast--winning a Club ride "sprint to the limits" 
last week, not by a mere wheel or two, but by a half a block!  And I like that it is 
accurate--winning the precision time trial handily last weekend by being only 1/100 
mph off the average speed predicated!  And I like that it is steady--it rode me 
straight and true for about a quarter mile last week while I struggled with both hands 
to change out of my rain gear.  This old bike certainly has a lot to be desired.

Actually, what I like most about my "ole true blue" bike is precisely that it is old.  
It is great to ride a bike that is this old, and yet can still out perform others so 
well.  Old isn't necessarily slow, or inaccurate, or unsteady, you know!

Bike forever....

    Jack

Hello Bicycle Riders:

It was 8:30 p.m., getting dark, and I still hadn't been out on my bike.  The rain 
finally stopped and radar showed it wouldn't be back for a while. The expanded version 
of the Tour's Stage 3, with the help of the DVR, was still in progress.  I looked at 
my log and counted the days back to the last day I hadn't ridden--almost a month.  I 
looked at the thermometer--70 degrees, but probably getting cooler.  It had been 
months (maybe not even yet this year) since I'd ridden in the dark.  Man, what to do?  
Begrudgingly I put my headlight battery on charge, pulled on cool weather gear, and 
got out my winter/rain/night bike.  It was pitch black when I clipped in, but 
surprisingly warm with the humidity still high from the rain.  Riding out Wilshire 
with calm winds, the fireflies filled the woods and swamp grass along the road 
seemingly to add to my headlight.  I wondered if the bugs that were hitting me were 
leaving traces of luminescent on my vest.  It was as I slowed at Jordan for the stop 
sign that I heard it--the clear, yet lonely, call of a Whippoorwill.

Isn't it amazing how sounds and smells can bring back memories of earlier, younger 
days?  And isn't it amazing how forcing oneself to do something that seems at first 
such a chore can end up such a wonderful, magical experience--like seeing clouds of 
fireflies and hearing again the forlorn song of the Whippoorwill?  

Bike on....

    Jack

Fellow bicyclists:

Biking this past week has been quite an experience for me in my (fairly new) road 
cycling career.  Monday, after some hard riding the past few weeks, I started to get 
knee soreness and had to start taking it easy.  You know, like ride slower and 
shorter?  I imagine a doctor saying to me, "No bike riding for you for two weeks." He 
didn't because I cancelled my appointment when he wanted x-rays taken before even 
taking a look.  So I guess that was the real reason for canceling the appointment: I 
don't think I could have lived with that advice.  I'm reminded of Michael Jordan, at 
the end of every game near the end his famous career, sitting on the bench with these 
huge packs of ice on one or both his knees.  Is Michael still playing basketball, or 
even just walking?  So, even though there isn't a Dr. in front of my name, taking it 
easy for a while seems the prudent prescription.  Thus, it's been no workout rides and 
no hammering up the hills with the guys, and probably no early Sunday morning rides to 
the rides for a while.  Like I said, a very different biking experience for me.

I'm not much of a philosopher, despite having studied under the best--Dr. Bailiff.  
But I'm thinking, if we didn't wake up in the morning believing we are indestructible, 
we probably wouldn't get very far from bed or get much accomplished.  Broken or worn 
out body parts, though, have a way of dashing our fleeting hopes and beliefs, our 
necessary delusions, of immortality.  Right, John?

Bike forever!!

    Jack

Fellow bicyclists:

A number of years ago I commented how nice it is to be riding this time of year, with 
all the blossoms out and the air filled with their fragrance.  Exalting the merits of 
riding at dawn, one of the things I said was: "the smell of blossoms on Patch Street 
even upwind."  Well, it wasn't at dawn, but on an evening ride this week that I again 
encountered that strong, sweet, aroma of those blossoms there on Patch Street.  What a 
rush!  And now it is the lilacs along just about every road in our county!

After such a long, cold, and snowy winter, and an unusually long and cool spring, it 
is good to again experience one of the best aspects of riding a bike--being in the 
midst of the strong, wonderful fragrance of the flowers and blossoms of spring.

See you on our sweet roads?

    Jack

Hi all:

Riding out Old Wausau Road yesterday morning by myself, in my rain and cool weather 
gear, bucking a 20 mph cold north wind, I got to thinking.  I mean, what else is there 
to do when riding solo but to get some serious thinking done.  After all, in 
conditions like that it is just too hard to talk (or even swear) out loud.  Who would 
hear you anyway?  So, I was thinking away--thinking how nice it is to ride with others 
in small groups (like 4-7 riders), no matter how fast or slow the pace.  Sure, riding 
alone is better training--you can go at a pace to give you the maximum workout--but 
you also have to do ALL the work with few chances to take a break.  Another thing, if 
you think about it, when riding alone you are the fastest/strongest in the group; but, 
alas, you are also the slowest/weakest.  The kind of day you are having, and/or the 
type of adversities you are encountering, can determine which one you feel most like.

Sometimes circumstances are such that you have to go it alone, at that hard pace by 
yourself, without help from others.  Whether you feel like the strongest or the 
weakest, the experience WILL make you stronger, and it MAY even make you a leader.  
For sure it will make you appreciate it when you are not alone, when there are others 
to help block the wind occasionally and to encourage you on.

See you on the road?

    Jack

Dear Fellow Bicyclists:

Have you ever enjoyed something, like maybe riding your bike, so much that you felt 
you might some day have to pay for such good feelings?  I'm sitting here looking out 
our large bay window into the back yard, Brook Benton singing in my memory, watching 
the rain make puddles on my patio.  I suppose rain is better than snow, and 37 degrees 
is better than 5 degrees, but I'm wondering if it ever will clear up enough to go 
out.  Not today.  Maybe not even tomorrow.  My mind wanders to one of those great, 
warm, sunny, not-much-for-wind days last summer, when, while riding along with a huge 
grin, I was saying, "I wonder when we are going to pay for this?"

Like Mr. Benton, it certainly IS a rainy night in Georgia, and Steven Point, and 
Plover, and Park Ridge, and Stockton, and....  Ya, I'll bet it IS rainin' all over the 
world.  Pay back, I guess.  Or, maybe, just maybe...pay forward?

See you in your rain gear!

    Jack

Dear Friends:

I'm sure this has never happened to you.  You are on your bike or trainer and it just 
seems that you can't make your legs get over that hump at the top of each stroke.  
Sure, okay, it's been a couple of days/weeks/months since you last were on the bike, 
but, hey, you are not in that bad of shape.  But, man, it is just so hard to get your 
legs up to speed.  It's like with each peddle stroke you are further and further 
behind.  So, to see if it will help, you down shift one gear trying to get a bit more 
power.  Of course your speed slips off as your cadence increases, but you feel 
better.  Yet, in less than a minute you are back grinding away trying to get ahead 
again, only now going slower than ever.  You know you can't go back to that original 
gear, so in desperation, you get out of the saddle and stomp on the peddles to get 
more cadence and power.  That works only until you sit back down.  You get done with 
your ride/session completely drained, wondering what the heck you have to do.

Like most things in biking and life, it is all what you are used to.  Stick with that 
riding/training for a few more days/weeks/months, for, unless being behind has never 
happened to you, you will get ahead eventually.  And when it happens, it's a great 
feeling.  I know.  At least I think I can remember that feeling!

See you on the top side!

    Jack

Dear Friends:

It is really a good thing that the days have been very cold and the snow has been 
clogging the roads, because I have had only enough time to ride a few miles each day 
on a trainer at the Y and a couple of more times a week at home.  Also good is that I 
have had not one minute to think about what I'm missing, except when I look in my log 
and see that last year it was like January 20th when Jeanette and I first got on our 
inside trainers--the weather was so nice and the roads so clear.  It's good for our 
building defense of that crossing out there on Old Highway 18 that the weather has 
been so cooperative!!

Perhaps you have welcomed my little hiatus from sending out these update emails, but 
I've missed sending them.  If things calm down a bit with OH18, maybe I'll have some- 
thing else important to write about--like maybe going out on a bike ride or something?

Tailwinds always....

    Jack

Dear Friends:

Really ugly weather in the winter for an avid bicyclist isn't the rain or snow or 
even the wind and cold temps.  It is when the roads get full of slush and snow and 
are unsafe.  We have had at least two weeks straight of unsafe roads so far this 
"winter".  I've learned how to tell when/if the country roads we love to ride in 
the summer will be unsafe due to slippery conditions--just by the way my street 
outside our house in town looks.  It is not often in the throws of winter all 
rural roads will be safe at the same time, since sporadic plowing and light 
traffic on some normally nice roads delay their drying out.  So I've developed a 
couple of mostly out-and-back routes when conditions are marginal, using roads 
that are well plowed and dry out the soonest--my bad roads routes.  Yesterday our 
street was pretty slippery, but amazingly the rural roads (like Jordan and Hwy Y) 
were very dry.  So with the bright sun and temps in the low 20s, I actually was 
able to "enjoy" a 25-mile ride outside for a change; making it just another "Bad 
Road Day" for me.

A "Bad Road Day", not unlike a "Bad Hair Day", has some very positive attributes.  I 
mean, it's not like EVERYTHING is bad about the day.  Mostly, you get true 
satisfaction of knowing that you are actually alive and well, and are still able to 
get out and about, even if you do look a bit crazed.

See you on the roads?  Probably not, huh?

    Jack

Dear Friends:

Lately, red belly riding has kind of taken a back seat to research, meetings, and 
overall preparation for defending the rail crossing on Old Highway 18 Road (OH18) 
at Burbank Road.  A small group of Heartland Steering Committee members, and 
several key individuals from the City of Stevens Point and the Town of Stockton 
Board have been working over-time to prepare the case to present to a Hearing 
Examiner for the Wisconsin Office of the Commissioner of Railroads in early 
December.  This letter is to bring you up-to-date as to just some of things that 
are happening.

    Jack

Dear Friends:

The other day I noticed it again.  It is something that comes this time of 
year and generally hangs around until sometime in spring or early summer.  
Something that Scott C. mentioned to me once, saying "What is that all about 
anyway?"  You get back from a ride on a nice brisk day; a ride you needed to 
bundle up a bit for.  As you get undress to hop in the shower, you see it.   
Now where the heck did that come from?  You know you dressed enough, and 
that ride was certainly a workout--so much so you're actually still hot as 
you remove your wet shirt.  It's okay, because it goes away after a few 
minutes, especially in the warm shower.  But there it is, after just about 
every ride: Red belly! 

Some things in biking, as in life, leave lasting scars, a reminder of a bad 
fall or experience.  Then there are those "red belly" marks, those mystery 
marks that are there just long enough to say you are human after all, and 
don't think you can protect yourself from everything.

See you tomorrow, right?

    Jack

Dear Biking Colleagues:

Is it too early for Indian Summer?  I certainly hope so, since then we will 
get at least two times this fall when the weather is warm, sunny and great 
for riding.  I remember last winter, when the sun would be out, the wind was 
light, the roads were dry and clear, and my bike would be calling me.  The 
only (not so slight) problem?  The temperatures were in the teens.  So, it 
is with that thought in mind that spurs me into hopping on my bike now while 
we continue to have such great weather. Still, I don't know about you, but I 
sometimes feel a little guilty for enjoying our warm, nice bike-riding 
weather that seems to be extending later every year and starting earlier in 
the spring.  Guilty, because it is my hunch that it probably is global 
warming, and all the gloomy predictions, that is bringing our nice weather 
these days.

There are many times in life when we have mixed feelings about things.  
Having them isn't necessarily bad, I don't think.  And we can't just stop 
living (and riding) because of them.  Anyway, we can get great solace that 
WE are not adding to the problem, of global warming that is, by riding our 
bikes and enjoying it.  Right?

On the roads....

    Jack

Fellow Biking Enthusiasts:

Many folks just love this time of year.  The cool nights, the crisp 
mornings, and, hopefully, pleasant days with the sun still warm.  The trees 
begin to take on their wonderful color and rides in the countryside are 
gorgeous.  This is truly a wonderful time to be out riding your bike.  
Still, there is always that hint in the air of things to come--the cold and 
dark of winter not that far off.  But we CAN enjoy what we have now, right?

If there is a biking color of fall, it probably wouldn't be the orange and 
red and yellow and brown of our beautiful fall trees.  It would have to be 
black.  For the tights, under shirts, and arm/leg warmers we sometimes are 
forced to wear during those crisp mornings and cool evening rides!  It's 
undoubtedly appropriate for our dying (but NOT dead yet) riding season, I 
suppose.  Ho, hum.
    
    Jack

Fellow Biking Enthusiasts:

I believe the curse of biking is not the cold, nor the clouds, nor the wind, 
nor the rain, nor bad roads, nor traffic, nor even attack dogs.  Sure, any 
one of these things can ruin a good bike ride, and especially if two or more 
are present at the same time.  I mean, if you rode last weekend as part of 
the Dog Days Tour over in the La Crosse area, or even on last Sunday's Tail 
Wind ride, you know what riding in miserable conditions is like.  Even so, 
none of these things can damper biking faster than the dark.  Sure, cloudy 
and raining and blowing and cool temps are bad.  But try riding with any of 
those things in the dark.  It is not only miserable, but dangerous.  No, the 
scourge of biking isn't the weather nor the roads nor the traffic nor the 
dogs; it is the loss every fall of our precious daylight.

This time of year we are loosing 3-4 minutes of daylight every day.  At this 
rate, the only riding we'll be doing soon will be night/moonlight rides.  I 
guess I'll check the batteries in my bike lights; how about you?

    Jack

Hello Bike Riders:

Are you as tired of clouds as I am?  And the rain?  After yesterday's 
Pick-Up Team Time Trail race, five of us stood there looking around to find 
somewhere we could ride where it wasn't raining.  I mean, we had just ridden 
7 miles over very wet roads following behind a big downpour and we were only 
a little wet.  Then we saw it--this small patch of blue to the east and 
south.  So, of course, we headed for it, found the blue skies and sun shine, 
and ended up riding about 35 miles with no more rain or wet.

You know, biking as in life, sometimes you have to suffer a little, before 
you can hunt down, find, and enjoy that sun on your face.

"Here comes the sun..."  (Do, dee, do, do)  Let's go riding!!

    Jack

Fellow Heartland riders:

Is this the case with you too?  I've been awful tired lately.  And even 
though it seems that I haven't worked out THAT hard, my legs are tired and 
sore most of the time.  And I just can't drink enough water; and I'm hungry 
all the time.  Then this bruise and a big scratch appeared on my arm the 
other day and I have no idea where they came from.  I think I'm walking with 
a slight limp, and have this urge to wrap up my elbows and knees with gauze, 
or sometimes even want to complètement cover my arms and legs with this 
white creamy stuff before I go out.  I'm racking my brain jour and night 
trying to figure out what's going on.  Do I have some kind of exotic, 
summertime maladie or something?  I don't know, maybe I'm going to have to 
check into the Clinique to see what's going on.

Actually, now I'm wondering if it just might not have something to do with 
me spending so much time with Al, Paul, Levi, George, Boonen, Roby, Bobke 
and all those other guys these days--that it's some kind of douleurs de 
sympathie pour le Tour?  Que pensez-vous?  Vous aussi?

Subsistance sur aller à vélo....

   Jack

Fellow Riders:

With summer here and the warm days, does this ever happen to you?  I'm 
riding along on a 87-degree day feeling the hot, and then think, if this was 
France, it'd be 100 degrees.  Or on a rural road I see this large section of 
brown-eyed Susan's, and I think, if this was along a Tour route, they'd be 
fields of sunflowers.  Or I'm on that longer hill there on Hwy C in Marathon 
County, and I think, those Tour boys in the Alps right now are struggling up 
one of those Cat-1 mountain climbs.  Or on one of those quiet roads I hear a 
cricket, and think, if this was Provence, I'd be hearing cicadas.  Doesn't 
this ever happen to you?

I don't know, but don't you too think there is this uncanny similarity 
between riding in Wisconsin in the summer and the Tour de France?

See you on the roads?
  
      Jack

Fellow Summer Riders:

It doesn't get any better than this--so I tell myself and friends.  Warm 
temperatures, sunny skies, light winds, beautiful country roads.  When and 
where in the world can it be better than this?  This weather and our 
wonderful heart-of-Wisconsin ambiance has got to be getting to you and 
getting you out on your bike at least once a week, alone or with a group, 
isn't it??  It gets to me.

When I'm out riding my bike I sometimes catch a glimpse into open garages as 
I ride past.  Many times these garages have bikes hanging from the rafters 
or leaning up against the walls.  It makes me wonder how much, if at all, 
those bikes get ridden.  So when I ride past by your house and garage these 
days, is your bike gone?

Having summer fun....

      Jack

Hello Heartland Bike Riders:

Remember me saying last week: "If there were an easy, quick way to post road 
closings on the Heartland website, I'd like to do that."  Well, I think I 
found it.  See 2. below and try it out, then let me know what you think, okay?

Keep on spinning....

      Jack