May 26 - Riding with MIT Cycling Team

Saturday the MIT cycling team and the Alumni Association arranged for me to do a ride. I need to give a special note of thanks to Kristen Naegle and Katha Washburn for setting up a great event. I hope the other riders had as good a time on the ride as I did. I rode on nearly deserted roads through Boston and over the Longfellow Bridge to Cambridge. I have been in that area east of the campus many times since I graduated in 1972 and it seems to change so fast that I never recognize anything. I found Ames St and was able to ride past East Campus where I lived for four years and then onto Memorial Drive. As I went by the Great Court I saw a group of Japanese tourists taking photographs and asked them to take some of me. When I told them what I had done they all wanted pictures with me. I then went to 77 Mass Ave and repeated the same process. There must have been three tour busses of Japanese tourists in front of MIT. I later learned that there are even tours that go through the Infinite Corridor and that it can be hard to get to classes on time if you find yourself behind one of these tours. MIT was never on anyone’s agenda as a tourist destination when I went there. I guess tech has become trendy, at least with the Japanese.

Kristen, president of the cycling club, and Katha, who works for the Alumni Association, arrived a few minutes later. We took some more pictures. Over the next 15 minutes about 15 riders arrived, mostly graduate students, as undergraduates had to be out of the dorms by today. We did a pleasant ride out to Lexington Green; it was billed as a social ride, which means you can talk as you ride. There were a number of nice roads with reasonable amounts of traffic. I was pleasantly surprised. They even found a hill. Let me say this about the hill, it might have been visible on the route profiles for the I days rode in Illinois where the terrain was as flat as a pancake, but on most other days I would not have taken any particular note of this hill. We returned by a different route and I was reminded of one of the many pleasures of cycling – you get to see places even in your own backyard that you would never have seen were it not for cycling.

I decided to ride back via the Esplanade. So I crossed the Harvard Bridge, paying appropriate homage to the number of Smoots I traveled, then I turned onto the Esplanade. I soon discovered that there was a large concert at the Hatch Shell and needless to say I had to walk the bike. I thought that everyone who hadn’t left Boston the night before must be on the Esplanade. When I finally got back to the Charter House where Karen and I are staying, I discovered that there were even more people at Quincy Market. Where do they all come from? Having ridden across rural areas of the US for 4 weeks I might not have seen this many people in total over that time. I will just have to adjust.

After a few days off the bike it is time to access the ride. Am I glad I did it? YES! Would I do it again? Yes. How do I feel? No aches or pains and while I will fly back to Berkeley, I feel like I could ride back if I had the time. It was a great adventure. I wish I had been able to ride every mile of the ride, but I didn’t. I described a method for grading my ride a few weeks ago. With the rain, my fatigue, and the bike mishap in Missouri, I figure I rode 89% of the total distance. Based on the assumption that an A grade requires 90% or better, I have to give myself a B+ for the ride. On the MIT 5.0 grading scale, I guess I get a 3.9, which as I try to recall is about what my GPA was at MIT. As time goes by some things seem to stay the same.

I will be staying on the East Coast for the next two weeks seeing friends and family in Boston, New Jersey and Philadelphia before attending my 35^th reunion. I plan to be back in Berkeley on June 10^th. I will see my friends in Berkeley then.

May 25 – We All Go Home

Friday morning I woke up and had nowhere to ride. I got up and saw about half the group board the vans and get taken to Logan Airport in Boston. Then I did a final laundry, so that I would not have to carry five days of dirty cycling clothes with me for the two weeks Karen and I plan to stay on the east coast. (I also didn’t want to hear her comments about having to wash the socks I wore on the beach yesterday.) I said goodbyes to the rest of the riders, those who had families at the wheel dipping and had other plans for getting home. It was a sad time as I am unlikely to see any of these riders again. That seems to be how it is so often in life today. People come together to work on a project and when it is finished they separate often never to interact with each other again. Certainly there are those among us who can keep those bonds of friendship despite the obstacles of time and distance we face in today’s world. However, it seems that this is getting harder today and it has never been easy for me.

As we rode across America we came upon a great number of small towns, each seemed to have a neatly kept graveyard, with monuments, both large and small, to the former residents of the town - the ancestors of the current residents. There was a stable sense of community. We also heard it in the roadside stores and restaurants we visited; people knew each other and talked about the things that were going on in their lives. We only heard snippets of conversation, but they were between people who shared a common history. It is something many of us who live in urban America never experience.

That day I saw two examples of community through the eyes of my wife, Karen. First we visited her aunt who is 95. She is mentally alert and in good health except for macular degeneration that has taken most of her vision. She lives in an assisted care facility but is far better off than most other patients. One of her two sons visits her regularly and Karen sees her whenever she is in Boston. However, she has become isolated as she has no one with whom she can recall shared experiences. The other example happened at dinner. Karen and I dined with one of Karen’s high school friends, Julie. They had been good friends but had had little contact since high school. Although their lives had gone in very different directions there was an immediate reconnection. They were able to recollect about their time together and had interest in what each other had done during the last 40 years. When they talked about Karen’s mother Julie recalled many positive experiences. I hope that after tonight’s conversations Karen will have a more balanced view of her mother.

The lesson for me is that I have very hard time fitting in to groups. I am far more likely to look in from the outside, than to be part of an inner core. On the bike trip I never rode consistently with any group of riders. I can say that this was because I never found riders who rode at a pace and with a style that I was comfortable with, but it is also true that I tended to be less than willing to alter my riding styles to fit with those of the other riders. It has been one of m major failings in life and in the end I can only hope that I will not become truly isolated and without any community of friends.

May 24 – The Atlantic Ocean

Today we made it across the country. We dipped our bikes into the Atlantic Ocean in Salisbury MA. Getting there from Keene NH was another problem. Our route today was in reality two separate days of cycling that had been added together. The morning ride of 70 miles was a very scenic and hilly route along country roads from Keene to Manchester, NH. The course would make a great one day ride. It has 3 sustained climbs of over 12% and many other climbs and downhills. The roads were rural and for the most part devoid of traffic. The views are great! The afternoon ride went through Manchester, yuck, and then on to the Atlantic via some relatively flat country roads. They were we encountered about 8 miles of recently tarred road. I am sure it improved our ride but my riding partner could only think and often comment about how bad it was for his bike to ride on roads like this. If on a 3500 mile journey you are complaining about the surface of a road 15 miles before the end you need a serious attitude adjustment.

While I struggled a bit with today’s ride, it really didn’t matter the fastest riders waited 5 miles from the finish for the slowest riders to get there, before we all went on to the Atlantic Ocean together. We dipped our front wheels into the Atlantic to end our ride. It was a joyous time many riders where me by family at beach. Karen met me and shared in my joy. It was wonderful. Kasper’s family (mother, wife and son) were there. I guess that in Holland the police are held in higher regard than they are in the US. We also poured the bottle of Pacific Ocean water into the Atlantic. While the air temperature was about 80 the ocean temperature was about 50. Twenty-eight riders who were old enough to know better got very wet and didn’t mind at all. After the celebration on the beach we put my bike in our rental car and drove to the motel. About half the riders rode the ten miles to the motel and somewhere along the way picked up a police escort. They arrived behind a police car with lights ablaze.

After most of the riders had packed their bikes so that they could be sent by UPS or be taken on the airplane, we had a final banquet. All but one of the riders, who had to leave early that evening, and lots of family were there. We toasted our success; we all got to say something about the ride, our feelings, our fellow riders and the leaders. The range of comments was dramatic. Many were simply thankful for the help and friendship they received from the leaders and their fellow riders. Some recalled memorable incidents during the ride. Others described the experience in reverential ways and thought of themselves as being blessed for completing the ride. I was thankful for the support of my wife as well as that of the fellow riders and staff. I thanked the staff for all the mechanical, emotional and physical support I received. I was pleased not to have had the most flats on the ride, I missed that honor by one. I also did not to have spent the most time in the van one rider had an Achilles tendon problem early in the ride and had to sag for five days while it healed. I was also pleased that after my bike was repaired in Quincy IL I rode every mile.

Many riders expressed a pride in their accomplishment. I have a great deal of trouble feeling that emotion. I look at it as if I did nothing special when compared to my fellow riders. I never felt a special sense of accomplishment when I became an Eagle Scout, graduated from MIT, climbed the highest mountain in Peru (22,000 ft), got a Ph.D., or completed Paris-Breast-Paris. In very case many others accomplished the same thing with me; I wasn’t any different than the other members of the group. I guess that I have never compared myself to the general population, only to the cohort of people doing the same things I am. It is an interesting character trait that I have only come to recognize in full lately. It keeps my ego in check but it limits my ability to feel joy and take pride in the accomplishments that I do achieve. On balance I like being that way but it certainly is something to think about.

May 23 - Through Vermont and on to New Hampshire

We were all concerned about today’s ride. It was 125 miles long and had some big hills. I tried to get an early start and for about 15 miles was the first rider on the road, something that I never had been before. There were some very nice rolling hills in New York State. We crossed the Hudson River 20 miles north of Albany. It is a smallish river at that point and it brought back a stream of memories. When I was 11, my Boy Scout troop did a canoe trip from the Southern end of Lake Champlain down a barge canal to the Hudson and then on the West Point. In ten days we covered 180 miles. There were 8 canoes with 4 scouts in each and only one adult leader on the water. Most of the canoes had a leader who was going to be a junior or senior in high school. They seemed like very old and responsible people to an 11 year old. I know times were different and that my parents must have really trusted the scoutmaster, Mr. Donnelly. Fortunately we had no problems, but I have often thought about what could have happened. I was reminded of this when we crossed over the Hudson at a place I must have canoed under 46 years ago.

My parents first lived together in Troy NY, where my father went to school. As we went through towns north of Troy I recalled hearing how my parents had been in these towns 60 years ago. I brought me another connection to my past. I wondered if they had seen the same vistas that I was seeing, or had it all changed so much in the last 60 years as to be unrecognizable today to a visitor form the past. I hope not.

As I approached the Vermont state line I started to hear a click in the bike with each petal stroke. I flagged down the mechanics van and Mike inspected my bike. He found several problems including a loose bottom bracket, but not the source of the clicks. Convinced that the bike was not going to fall apart and kill me I continued on. I never found the problem that caused the clicks but the day before Dave Thompson had a problems with a clicking noise. He spent 20 minutes trying to find the cause until he realized that it was due to a bottle of pills in his jersey pocket. I never found the cause of my clicks, but I made sure that they were not due to anything in my pockets.

After going through Bennington VT we had a long hard climb that eventually lead to a roaring downhill. I limited my speed to 40 mph, but several riders got up to 55 mph. One rider became so fearful of the downhill that he had to be sagged to the motel. It is really a shame because while with a little bit of practice a bicycle can be held at almost any speed on a downhill, it is much more difficult to convince the brain that it is safe to go down a hill. For me the downhills are the just reward I get for all the work I expended getting to the summit. There were several additional climbs and some other glorious downhills before we got to Brattlebourgh.

Once in Brattlebourgh the ride to our motel in Keene NH went became far worse. The roads were OK for cycling, but the constant presence and noise from an endless stream of cars and trucks made for a very unpleasant finish to the day’s ride. It was almost 5 PM before I got in, by far my latest finish. During the last 15 miles little clouds of doubt about completing tomorrow’s equally hard ride started to fill my head. I fear they will only be exiled from my conscious brain by tonight’s sleep, what they will due to my unconscious brain tonight I know not. The surprising thing about this is that I rode from Bennington to Keene 20 years ago as a latter part of a double century. I honestly don’t recall it being too hard but I am sure that there was less traffic that day than there was today. I don’t know if it was the increase in traffic or my increased age or 30 days on the road or a fading memory that has led me to feel so differently about this section of road.

May 22 – Syracuse to Amsterdam

Today Kasper woke up to learn that the US would not let his son come to America because he was on his mother's passport, even though she was also coming with him. Kasper had to write a letter of explanation, have a policeman? sign it (as an American official), and FAX it to the Netherlands. He is hopeful that this will allow is wife and son to travel tomorrow. Only one day delayed.

Today’s ride of 120 miles was along the Eire Canal, through a region of New York that was once a major reason why this is the Empire State. But increasingly the mill towns along the canal and Mohawk Valley have seen much better times and are now a sad reminder of America’s, no the world’s, tendency to use an area’s resources and when they are exhausted, or can no longer compete with another one, move on.

There were some interesting sights along the road. One was the worlds’ smallest church. It sits in the middle of a pond and has room for two people. However, you need to swim with the current growth not a pleasant choice, or take a boat to pray in the church. Another was a view of the fields to the south of the Mohawk Canal.

One of the things that we have seen as we came across the country is the progressive increase in the numbers on the Interstate roads we cross. We started in California crossing I5 and riding on I10. In New Mexico we rode on I40 and I25. Since New Mexico we have not ridden on any Interstates but as we continued to cross the country in a Northeasterly direction the numbers on the Interstates have increased we have now crossed to the North of I90. Tomorrow we will be East of I89 and eventually we will be East of I95. This has been one way that I have been using to measure my progress across the country. I have previously talked about how we get a very myopic view of the country and without the Interstate grid it would be hard if not impossible to know where in the country you were. Certainly, the landscape has changed as we moved across the country but without the Interstate grid it would be hard to place where you were in the larger context of the country.

All and all it has been a good day, a few close calls with potholes in the road, but I finished strong and am looking forward to attacking Vermont and New Hampshire.

Sorry for the delay but Internet access has been spotty and the rider/writer busy/tired.

May 21 – East to Syracuse

The ride from Batavia to Syracuse was 121 miles and for that distance a very easy ride. We started from Batavia after a breakfast at Bob Evans. They opened at 6 AM and all 28 riders were outside waiting to come in and eat. Fortunately the restaurant had been warned the night before. Standing outside in cycling clothes was a chilly experience as there was frost this morning. By 6:45 when I started it was a little warmer but not much. I rode most of the day with Ian, a rider who lives outside Boston. We both have the nice problem of only needing one plane ride to do this ride. Most riders flew to the start and then will fly from the end back home.

We set a comfortable pace on the gentle rollers that made up much of the route. We went through a number of small towns each of whom had seen better days and each with their own claim to fame. The most notable was LeRoy which claimed to be the place where Jell-O was invented. We passed through Geneva on Lake Seneca and had no problem understanding why the town was named Geneva, especially after having been to its namesake in Switzerland. Like Geneva the town of Seneca Falls has some remarkable Victorian architecture and would be worthy of a visit when I had more time to explore.

There were more chocolate chip cookies today and they were just as good today as they were yesterday.

For me the most interesting part of the day was riding on some of the roads around Syracuse. My mother lived in Syracuse for several years when she was growing up. I have no idea where the family lived, but some of the parks we went through must have been there in the 30’s when she lived there. I likely was going past places that she knew well. I will never know for sure, but there was a very strange sense of connection.

Ian and I finished the ride with AJ our lone rider from the UK. Many riders have had family or friends that lived near the route visit them during the ride. One who lives in Illinois seemed to be having a family congregation as we passed through the state. It got to the point where we would tell any slowly moving car that passed us that Rob Landis was just a little bit ahead. Many others will have friends at the end of the ride on Thursday. AJ’s wife had been in the US visiting friends in Pennsylvania for several weeks but has left of England and so she will not be at the end of the ride. It seemed like a shame to me, but I really don’t know their situation. Well today as we arrived at the motel four friends of AJ from PA were there to great him. He was totally surprised and overwhelmed. It was so nice that they came and that they surprised AJ.

May 20 – Old Bicycles and Cookies

Today got off to an inauspicious start. The weather channel could not provide any local weather. It was better to open the window and determine that it was raining and in the 40’s. Breakfast was a buffet; it was good with the exception of the pancakes that had to be cut with a knife, preferably a steak knife, even after syrup was liberally applied. The pancakes would have made good Frisbees.

Our ride today was only 84 miles, 87 with a necessary detour. It was divided into two nearly equal parts. The first 40 miles was from Dunkirk to Orchard Park where we toured the Pedal Power Museum. The world’s largest museum dedicated solely to bicycles and bicycle memorabilia. It has a remarkable collection of bicycles from the earliest bonebreakers and ordinary bikes (ones with one large front wheel) to bikes of the 50’s and 60’s. As owning a bicycle in the 1880’s was as expensive as owning a car is today, the degree to which bicycle motifs were used in everyday items is amazing. I have included a few pictures. I have heard a few riders commenting during the ride about whether anyone has ridden across the country on a fixed gear bicycle. I knew it had been done but didn’t know when. In the museum there was the first ordinary that was ridden across the country in 1884. It took about 100 days and in many places in the west there were no roads! I am glad that I waited for improved bikes and transcontinental roads before doing my ride.

The 40 mile morning ride to the museum was cold, temps in the 40’s, with wet roads and a little bit of drizzle. I got one flat from a small wire that though my tire needed to be steel belted. The 40 mile afternoon ride to Batavia NY was cold, temps in the upper 50’s, with wet roads, periods of rain and headwinds. I got two flats. Well, I got one from a piece of glass and a second one because the tube I used had a slow leak from a patch I put on before. I also made a wrong turn in the afternoon, in part because I was so frustrated with my second flat of the day. I am not sure which part of the ride I liked better but there was one ray of sunshine in the afternoon. Shane, our mechanic, was driving sag with his nine year old grand-daughter. When he fixed my second flat of the afternoon, his grand-daughter offered me a chocolate cookie from a palate of cookies her mother had made. I am no fool, so I thanked her and had the very good cookie. I was the last rider and about 10 miles from the end of the ride Shane waited at a turn to make sure that I made the right turn and that I had enough water. His grand-daughter offered me the last cookie from the plate. I told her I couldn’t take the last one but she insisted; then said that there were more. So I had a second cookie. When I finished the ride I told her that I only made it to the end because of her second cookie. She may be nine but I don’t think she was naive enough to believe that.

Our motel is a Days Inn, however the other half of the same building, just down the hall is a Motel 8. We have experienced motels that have changed their names between the time the organizers book the rooms and the time we arrive. But I have never seen one motel building with two different motels. I don’t know but we may have caught a motel in the act of changing its name. Unfortunately going back to Batavia NY to check out if one motel is being converted into another or if this is a stable situation is not high on must do my list, so we may never know.