Somewhere underneath is my neighbors small car.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
It's been a while since my last entry, too many bicycle-less weekends have gone by. No excuses, just me being a sloth. Let me rephrase that more politically correct, there comes a time when one needs to step back and take a break. I think thats what I needed... okay so it's an excuse. Anyway, as the new year rolls forward and with resolutions abound it was time for me to put the pedal to the medal. Well, actually put the skis to the snow. The seasons first snow storm left 20+ inches on the ground, virtually shut down New York City for almost 48 hours. Fahnestock has plenty of snow for me to test my stamina after weeks of being a couch potato.
Somewhere underneath is my neighbors small car.
Somewhere underneath is my neighbors small car.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Riding with 'The Law'
Disclaimer and legal stuff.
This story is based on a true event. Everything describe here occurred, except where there are embellishments, half truths, and out right lies. The names and pictures have been altered to protect the innocent.
End Reader License agreement.
If you’ve read this far you have agreed that anything read here stays here.
B Day minus one.
September 14, 2007 Friday. It’s 11:00 PM, I lie awake thinking back it’s been almost 10 years since I did one of these ‘Charity Rides’ I’m really looking forward to the challenge. I’ve logged 80+ weekly miles since the beginning of August. I hope the weather forecast is correct. The forecast is for showers ending in the afternoon.
B - Day.
September 15, 2007 Saturday. The alarm gently buzzes it’s 5:00AM. What the##?!!. Time to go to work already? Steady, I say to myself, it’s Saturday, you’re doing the MS150 today.
I hear the sound of rain hitting the bedroom rain gutter. Now I know why they’re called rain gutters. Hey I also won’t have to shower this morning. Yeah!
7:30 AM. We arrive in Southampton ‘The Hamptons,’ ‘playground of the Rich and Shameless’. I circle around reaching a short driveway and a hand painted sign directs me to the ‘Elks Club.’ I smile and imagine being greeted by Elks wearing Hawaiian shirts lead by Elke Sommers in a Bikini. I am startled by a shirtless, barefooted balding surfer type. ‘Dude, Riders park here’ he yells.
Hmmm… rich, and shameless? Definitely shirtless. I should have taken a picture of those saggy tattoos on his… err chest. It should convince my 30 something nieces that in another 10 years that what their tattoos will look like unless they are collagen endowed.
I park and walk to the Elks Club Hall. The hall is filled with riders of all shapes and sizes dressed in colorful Lycra. But no Elks or Elke. ‘Wow!’ my riding partner Law says. No, Law is not a Lawyer, it’s short for Lawrence. Everyone calls him Law. A nickname given by his wife because as she says ‘he thinks he’s ‘The Law’. No one dares argue with her about that.
We sign in and receive our bib numbers and grab some bagels and juice. We listen to speeches and grab more bagels and juice. When all the speakers finally finish I am fully hydrated and bloated.
8:30AM. The rain hasn’t let up so the start is delayed for an hour. We finally mount our bicycles and roll out. I’m singing in the rain Law responds with a gurgling aria of his own. The wind begins to pick up. As I approach an umbrella of trees I decide it’s a good spot to dry my glasses. As I pass under the trees a gust of wind pushes the water that collected right over my head. My legs were already quite wet and Mother Nature decided my torso should be as well. The torrent of rain penetrates my jacket and rolls down my neck to my back and under my shorts. The chamois absorbs the water. Ah, the wet diaper experience. I am grateful the wool and poly under shirt is doing its job in keeping me warm. I wipe my glasses and spit out water like one of those fountain statues.
11:00 AM. I’m beginning to feel hungry. Reading between the drops of rain on my glasses I pass North Cresent Road. No sign of a rest stop. Wait a minute, didn’t I see a sign for North Cresent just a few miles back. Could I have been riding in a circle? Law must have read my mind. ‘Hey didn’t we pass North Cresent before?’ he shouts above the sound of the wind and rain hitting my helmet. ‘I think so, I shout back’. We ride faster. Note, for those readers of the female persuasion - no we are not lost – we rode faster to get more oxygen into brains so we can orientate ourselves better.
11:45 AM. I see the sign for the North Ferry. We stop at a traffic circle. Law and I both turn to look at each other as if to say isn’t that where we were this morning? Just then a sweet blue haired lady rolls down her car window, ‘are you boys lost?’ she asks. Law says, ‘oh no we’re just looking for Crescent Beach and Quinipet Camp.’ That Law, he’s a real babe magnet.
‘Oh,’ she says. ‘You’re going in the wrong direction.’ ‘Go back up the hill and …’ What! She wants us to go back up that hill. We turn around and ride faster. See note above, the oxygen technique works!
12:15 PM. We stop in a café along the beach and order 2 cups of coffee. The bay is cover with rolling waves and white caps. I rest my bicycle against the railing. Just as I turn to take picture of Law a gust blows my $1,500 custom Tesch bicycle over. As I watch it fall, I suddenly flash back 12 years.
My 45th birthday. I had hit the mid-life age. Like most men of that age I felt the urge., ‘I can’t get no oh… sa-tis-faction’ and I wanted satisfaction. While reading that morning’s paper an ad caught my eye. ‘Single female, looking for a male companion to bicycle cross country….’ I turn the page, it continued, ‘please send photo of bicycle.’ That’s what I want. That’ll get me sat-is-faction, something thing hot! A custom built sweet heart of a bicycle! I’ll buy that Custom Tesch.
No way was I going to let my sweetheart fall. I grab it just before the handle bar hits the pavement. Law yells ‘great catch’. I snap the photo of Law. We mount our bicycles and ride away ‘High Noon’ style, I squint to see between the rain drops on my glasses, as the theme from ‘A fist full of Dollars’ plays in my mind.
1:15PM. It’s still raining. Water is rushing down the hill from the camp as we approach. It seems that every MS ride always finishes with a long up hill. But wait. This one is different it has running water. No matter. I’m looking forward to a hot shower, a hot drink and lottsa food. In the meantime I’m having a close encounter of the Salmon kind, swimming upstream and dying exhausted.
The wind shifts and I catch the odor of wet woolens combined with fish oil. Holy Mackerel! I should bottle this scent. It would guarantee the wearer a subway car to themselves.
Dinner at the camp was excellent. It was catered by Chef Michael Bliss who owns and runs two restaurants. I selected a Cesar Salad, the 5 spice roasted chicken, pie ala mode. Law had Cesar Salad, roasted LI veggies with pasta, and homemade Vanilla ice cream.
I would like to thank everyone for their generous pledges. There were very few photo ops the first day while we were riding due to the very wet conditions. About 250 riders registered, 100 riders signed in. In reality, Saturdays ride was shortened because of the rain. Most of the rider were sagged back to Camp Quinipet for safety reasons. Law and I were already past the short cut where one could shorten the ride. However getting lost and following the directions given to us by a local we ended up riding 55-62 miles. Day 2 was better in that there was no rain but the swirling gusty winds were a challenge.
Follow this Link to the pictures.
http://picasaweb.google.com/bicyclistken/TwinForksMS150?authkey=Gv1sRgCNO3gJmLy9TxNg&feat=directlink
This story is based on a true event. Everything describe here occurred, except where there are embellishments, half truths, and out right lies. The names and pictures have been altered to protect the innocent.
End Reader License agreement.
If you’ve read this far you have agreed that anything read here stays here.
B Day minus one.
September 14, 2007 Friday. It’s 11:00 PM, I lie awake thinking back it’s been almost 10 years since I did one of these ‘Charity Rides’ I’m really looking forward to the challenge. I’ve logged 80+ weekly miles since the beginning of August. I hope the weather forecast is correct. The forecast is for showers ending in the afternoon.
B - Day.
September 15, 2007 Saturday. The alarm gently buzzes it’s 5:00AM. What the##?!!. Time to go to work already? Steady, I say to myself, it’s Saturday, you’re doing the MS150 today.
I hear the sound of rain hitting the bedroom rain gutter. Now I know why they’re called rain gutters. Hey I also won’t have to shower this morning. Yeah!
7:30 AM. We arrive in Southampton ‘The Hamptons,’ ‘playground of the Rich and Shameless’. I circle around reaching a short driveway and a hand painted sign directs me to the ‘Elks Club.’ I smile and imagine being greeted by Elks wearing Hawaiian shirts lead by Elke Sommers in a Bikini. I am startled by a shirtless, barefooted balding surfer type. ‘Dude, Riders park here’ he yells.
Hmmm… rich, and shameless? Definitely shirtless. I should have taken a picture of those saggy tattoos on his… err chest. It should convince my 30 something nieces that in another 10 years that what their tattoos will look like unless they are collagen endowed.
I park and walk to the Elks Club Hall. The hall is filled with riders of all shapes and sizes dressed in colorful Lycra. But no Elks or Elke. ‘Wow!’ my riding partner Law says. No, Law is not a Lawyer, it’s short for Lawrence. Everyone calls him Law. A nickname given by his wife because as she says ‘he thinks he’s ‘The Law’. No one dares argue with her about that.
We sign in and receive our bib numbers and grab some bagels and juice. We listen to speeches and grab more bagels and juice. When all the speakers finally finish I am fully hydrated and bloated.
8:30AM. The rain hasn’t let up so the start is delayed for an hour. We finally mount our bicycles and roll out. I’m singing in the rain Law responds with a gurgling aria of his own. The wind begins to pick up. As I approach an umbrella of trees I decide it’s a good spot to dry my glasses. As I pass under the trees a gust of wind pushes the water that collected right over my head. My legs were already quite wet and Mother Nature decided my torso should be as well. The torrent of rain penetrates my jacket and rolls down my neck to my back and under my shorts. The chamois absorbs the water. Ah, the wet diaper experience. I am grateful the wool and poly under shirt is doing its job in keeping me warm. I wipe my glasses and spit out water like one of those fountain statues.
11:00 AM. I’m beginning to feel hungry. Reading between the drops of rain on my glasses I pass North Cresent Road. No sign of a rest stop. Wait a minute, didn’t I see a sign for North Cresent just a few miles back. Could I have been riding in a circle? Law must have read my mind. ‘Hey didn’t we pass North Cresent before?’ he shouts above the sound of the wind and rain hitting my helmet. ‘I think so, I shout back’. We ride faster. Note, for those readers of the female persuasion - no we are not lost – we rode faster to get more oxygen into brains so we can orientate ourselves better.
11:45 AM. I see the sign for the North Ferry. We stop at a traffic circle. Law and I both turn to look at each other as if to say isn’t that where we were this morning? Just then a sweet blue haired lady rolls down her car window, ‘are you boys lost?’ she asks. Law says, ‘oh no we’re just looking for Crescent Beach and Quinipet Camp.’ That Law, he’s a real babe magnet.
‘Oh,’ she says. ‘You’re going in the wrong direction.’ ‘Go back up the hill and …’ What! She wants us to go back up that hill. We turn around and ride faster. See note above, the oxygen technique works!
12:15 PM. We stop in a café along the beach and order 2 cups of coffee. The bay is cover with rolling waves and white caps. I rest my bicycle against the railing. Just as I turn to take picture of Law a gust blows my $1,500 custom Tesch bicycle over. As I watch it fall, I suddenly flash back 12 years.
My 45th birthday. I had hit the mid-life age. Like most men of that age I felt the urge., ‘I can’t get no oh… sa-tis-faction’ and I wanted satisfaction. While reading that morning’s paper an ad caught my eye. ‘Single female, looking for a male companion to bicycle cross country….’ I turn the page, it continued, ‘please send photo of bicycle.’ That’s what I want. That’ll get me sat-is-faction, something thing hot! A custom built sweet heart of a bicycle! I’ll buy that Custom Tesch.
No way was I going to let my sweetheart fall. I grab it just before the handle bar hits the pavement. Law yells ‘great catch’. I snap the photo of Law. We mount our bicycles and ride away ‘High Noon’ style, I squint to see between the rain drops on my glasses, as the theme from ‘A fist full of Dollars’ plays in my mind.
1:15PM. It’s still raining. Water is rushing down the hill from the camp as we approach. It seems that every MS ride always finishes with a long up hill. But wait. This one is different it has running water. No matter. I’m looking forward to a hot shower, a hot drink and lottsa food. In the meantime I’m having a close encounter of the Salmon kind, swimming upstream and dying exhausted.
The wind shifts and I catch the odor of wet woolens combined with fish oil. Holy Mackerel! I should bottle this scent. It would guarantee the wearer a subway car to themselves.
Dinner at the camp was excellent. It was catered by Chef Michael Bliss who owns and runs two restaurants. I selected a Cesar Salad, the 5 spice roasted chicken, pie ala mode. Law had Cesar Salad, roasted LI veggies with pasta, and homemade Vanilla ice cream.
I would like to thank everyone for their generous pledges. There were very few photo ops the first day while we were riding due to the very wet conditions. About 250 riders registered, 100 riders signed in. In reality, Saturdays ride was shortened because of the rain. Most of the rider were sagged back to Camp Quinipet for safety reasons. Law and I were already past the short cut where one could shorten the ride. However getting lost and following the directions given to us by a local we ended up riding 55-62 miles. Day 2 was better in that there was no rain but the swirling gusty winds were a challenge.
Follow this Link to the pictures.
http://picasaweb.google.com/bicyclistken/TwinForksMS150?authkey=Gv1sRgCNO3gJmLy9TxNg&feat=directlink
No Magnolia Muffins Ride
Wow, it's been a while since my last entry. I've been riding, but inexcusably not writing. So, I finally finished a Jeff ride and decided to write about it. I've caught several of his SBRA B-, and B rides before, though all while midway into, or just finishing my own ride. As I said, I finally finished this one. However I actually didn't start with the group. I met them midway, as I was late in getting to the meeting spot. Anyway, arguably the best part of any ride are the food stops. Though on a previous ride I threw my back out bending over to pick up one of those blueberry filled muffins. No, these muffins are not from the over rated Magnolia Bakery but from the local L.I. Briermere Farm .
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Winter Riding
Winter has it's own beauty. However riding in 4-5 inches of snow creates a myriad of problems. Safety is the main problem. However Nordic Skiing is one of the best aerobic execises when bicycling is not possible and the best thing is there are no cars. We caught The 550 acre Muttontown Preserve on a cloudless morning after a heavy snow. Unfortunately it lasted only for a few days.
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