Food!

[Ed Note: This was to be published on July 25, 2022. It is in my “drafts” section, which leads me to believe it was never published (and I can’t find it in the published section) – probably because I forgot to push a button. Here it is, over a month later. Happy reading!]

Our rest day is in Northfield, MN, which feels like a home away from home. My daughter went to school here and we stayed here in 2018 during the coast-to-coast ride.

When my daughter was in school and I came to visit, we always went to dinner at Chapati, an excellent Indian restaurant in the Archer House, a 19th century hotel. Alas, it burned in 2020 and is now a hole in the ground awaiting redevelopment. I was told that plans have been approved to replace it with another hotel with retail on the main floor. I don’t know if the restaurant will return.

With that option gone, I had Saturday dinner at The Ole Store, where I had an excellent polenta with a Spanish red wine and a blueberry tort for dessert. Blueberries and basil pair well together so, if I can still find fresh peaches and blueberries when this tour is over, my next peach/blueberry pie will include fresh basil.

Over dinner we shared storm stories. Some folks only saw it in the distance, some waited out lightning in a convenience store and got great photos and videos. No one saw the wind I saw, which was apparently an isolated event along the ridge I was caught on.

Breakfast Sunday was at the Brick Oven Bakery, a favorite of mine for many years for its excellent coffee, pastries, and oatmeal. I was up at 4 AM due to a series of texts from Scotland. My COVID-afflicted daughter was trying to reserve a hotel room in which to quarantine, and the credit card company didn’t want to honor the charge. Try fixing that at 4 o’clock on a Sunday morning from across an ocean.

I killed time until 6 when the café opened; but they don’t serve breakfast until 7, so I had to be content with a cortado and a pastry for the first hour.

Lunch had to be at Tanzenwald Brewing Company, where I heard live honky tonk with my Sunday afternoon beer in 2018. I stopped at the Downtown Bike Shop (where our mechanic, Anders, used to work), then at another shop in order to replace my cue sheet holder, which had been damaged in the Devil’s Tower windstorm and finished off in Saturday’s windstorm. (While the Devil’s Tower windstorm was pretty impressive, it didn’t hold a candle to the wind I faced outside of Veseli, MN on Saturday, a wind I will never forget.) [ed note: 18 hours later, on a beautiful Sunday morning, it’s hard to believe that actually happened just 20 miles from here.]

I also stopped at the Just Food Co-op, where I picked up some Just Coffee to replenish Anders’ supply – he provides us with Moka Bialetti coffee at picnic. Just Coffee is a co-operative out of Madison, WI, and provides a special blend with the Just Food Co-op label – since Anders and I both have ties to Madison and Northfield, it seemed only proper.

Between breakfast and lunch I replaced my chain and cleaned up the bike after Saturday’s excitement. That, of course, required a ride into town to make sure it shifted properly with the new chain. While I have lived without a chain master link tool for many years, I have to admit it comes in pretty handy. The Park MLP-1.2 is a keeper.

Next week we ride through Wisconsin after losing two riders and adding 11 more as well as a new mechanic. We will cross the Mississippi on highway 61 (where “God said to Abraham, ‘kill me a son’/Abe said ‘man, you must be puttin’ me on’/God said ‘no’/Abe said ‘what?’/God said ‘you can do what you want Abe but/The next time you see me comin’ you better run’/Abe said ‘where do you want this killin’ done?”/God said ‘out on highway 61’” – Highway 61 revisited – Bob Dylan), ride the Sparta to Elroy trail – the first rails-to-trails conversion in the US [don’t tell anyone but I might take an alternate route], ride through the beautiful Devil’s Lake State Park, cross Lake Wisconsin on the Merrimac Ferry, then continue on to Manitowoc where we will cross Lake Michigan on another ferry.

Featuring the great Sam Lay on drums, Mike Bloomfield on guitar, Al Kooper on keyboards, and Bob Dylan on Acme siren. I thought it was a cheap child’s toy, but the Acme version is sold as a musical instrument (and made by the maker of the Acme Thunderer – a really loud metal whistle).

River deep, mountain high

Hint to work folks: If you need a Friday song, try this.Use the Memorial Speaker and turn it up loud enough to make the neighbors complain or come and join you. If you need others, try “Higher” -Sly and the Family Stone, “Higher and Higher” – Jackie Wilson (used for this post 4 years ago), or “The Wheel” – Jerry Garcia – used last week.

Sleeping outside (and getting up at 5 AM) is a lot easier at 60 degrees (15.5 C) than at 35 (1.5 C). Breakfast burritos, French Toast, oatmeal, and fruit fueled today’s ride.

We rode into a blinding sunrise (made worse when a tank truck going the other way spewed water on the road, which collected in the rumble strips and reflected upward dazzlingly).

Leaving Worland we passed a sign extolling local veterans with the phrase “sword and shield”, which led to today’s song, which I sang for many miles.

I saw Brownie and Sonny in the Great Hall of the Memorial Union some 50 years ago and they sang this.

We rode up and down for a while, knowing that each down would have to be made up for later as we climbed to the Powder River Pass at 9666 feet (2946 meters). At mile 35 we transitioned from a smooth asphalt shoulder to a gravel-strewn chipseal shoulder. It got better, but we coped with periodic sand on the shoulder which made descents interesting.

At about 25 miles we entered the town of Ten Sleep, so called because it was “ten sleeps” (10 days ride by horse) to several other outposts. An espresso with my name on it was waiting at “Dirty Sally’s”, along with a fancy version of a Reese’s peanut butter cup (dark chocolate and almond butter). Rereading my post from 4 years ago, I see I had the same snack.

We left Ten Sleep to climb Ten Sleep Canyon. I guess this made up for descending through Wind River Canyon yesterday. The espresso wore off too soon and I was hoping they would deliver. I needed one more cup of coffee.

Ten Sleep Creek

Switchbacks climbing out of Ten Sleep Canyon. Note tiny cyclist lower right.

Climbing the pass I set my computer so I could see the clock and the altimeter, not the odometer. Miles come much too slowly at that speed, but I could celebrate each 100 foot elevation gain. We topped out at Powder River Pass and put on a jacket for the descent. After several miles of screaming downhill (after a few miles I realized what I had just done and screamed out a “Yahoo” and almost hurt my face grinning) we came into the cruelest part of the ride. Miles 65-70 were mostly uphill and seemed tougher than the climb to the pass.

After focusing on big things for so long, I stopped to pour water on my head and admire the wildflowers.

I stopped for a snack at mile 70, took off my sunglasses, and got out my rain jacket. The sky had been darkening and thunder rumbled. I ended up putting the jacket back but kept it in easy reach. A few drops fell, but nothing to speak of — but it’s getting dark again as I write. My laundry isn’t dry.

In the 70s there are a series of steep (8%) curving descents, each ending in a sweeping curve to the right and an uphill. This repeated 5 times, with multiple warnings to trucks. I think we were losing elevation overall, but each climb seemed tougher.

We rolled into Buffalo (a 35 mph descent into town) and I kept my eyes peeled, spotting the Occidental Hotel and Saloon, where Graeme and I stopped in for a Ten Sleep Golden Ale (for me). This looks like a classic old western saloon, with a tin ceiling and rooms upstairs. The stage was set for bluegrass tonight but I will not make it back down there. The bar is filled with stuffed animals, and I don’t mean teddy bears. I had to have a seat, not at the bar, but in the comfy chair. I even managed to get back up and on my bike.

After our beer there was a final climb to our campsite. Tomorrow we’re off to Gillette, the scene of my worst moment of the 2018 ride.

It’s a Major Award!

I have just received a Major Award! For meritorious service, I have just been awarded The Golden Bedpan! No gold watch for me – an honest-to-god Golden Bedpan! (miniature facsimile.) 24k over pewter. Had I known I would receive this, I’d have retired sooner!

How does it feel to want?

I used to manage a housing project. As part of that job I supervised a maintenance crew, since I couldn’t do everything myself. I would get there early, check the maintenance requests that had come in overnight, balance those with the ongoing maintenance that was due, and any projects we had working. When Tom came in to work, I’d say, “I want you to…” and name a job.

Tom would reply, “How does it feel to want?” On the surface, this was me giving him a job for the day and him giving me shit in return. But what was below the surface? When I asked, this truly was what I wanted. As a human being, he had autonomy and could say no. We could talk about all of the work that needed doing, or something he had noticed the day before. We could have had that conversation first, in which I laid out all the work for the day and we chose together. He also was used to a boss who gave orders, not one who stated wants. Ultimately, he could refuse (whether an order or a want). Ultimately, I could fire him. He wanted the job and I wanted a staff I could count on, so we worked it out each day.

But on another level, he was offering me a spiritual/ontological lesson. I could actually take him up on the offer and feel what it was to want. I wasn’t paying him for that. It was a bonus.

There was someone else I was paying for that. We’ll get into that soon. So what is it to want? One meaning of want is to lack. Another meaning is to desire. If we smash those meanings together, we get desiring what we don’t have.

The Buddha taught that all life is suffering and all suffering arises from desire. Chew on that a bit. A lot of us will chafe at the notion that all life is suffering and insist we are happy. Buddha didn’t demand that we believe him. He demanded that we experience for ourselves. To get that suffering arises from desire might be a little easier but even that might get you thinking about how much pleasure you get from wanting something, planning and saving for it.

We bring a lot of passion to the quest. Passion comes from a Latin word which means “to suffer”. [It’s now a small leap to recognize that compassion means “to suffer with”. That’s a topic for another day.] So you want something. Depending on your personality, maybe you rush out and buy it. Maybe you read Consumer Reports and product reviews. Maybe you go try it out or compare different options. Maybe you save money for a long time, or maybe you just go into debt.

Now you have the thing. Then what? You go onto the next thing to want. My teacher asked us to consider the possibility of wanting exactly what we have. I suggested this to someone recently and they said “You can’t really ‘desire’ what you have though you can desire to maintain it. You CAN be content with it.”

Notice that there isn’t a lot of “juice” in contentment – it’s nothing like wanting, desiring, pining for, coveting. What if my friend is wrong? What if you can want what you have? What if you can bring the same intensity of experience to what is, as you can to what isn’t? Wouldn’t you suffer a whole lot less? Try it some time. (I’ll wait. Let me know how it goes.) Want what you have, not what you lack. See if it’s possible. See how you feel.

We like to complain about what we “have to” do. How would the experience change if we thought of it as what we “want to” do? You might object and say that is lying. But is it? When we make a choice, there is always at least one alternative. Let’s say I told Tom to trim the hedge. He could say he “has to” trim the hedge. He could also say he “wants to” trim the hedge. What is the alternative to trimming the hedge? Obviously, not trimming it. What are the consequences of not trimming it? The hedge doesn’t get trimmed, people get upset because the property looks run down. Someone else trims the hedge and resents Tom for not doing it. I fire Tom and he is out of a job and has no income. There are certainly others. But Tom has chosen to trim the hedge rather than accept the consequences of not doing so. He wants to trim the hedge more than he wants the consequences. How would the experience be different if it started with wanting to trim the hedge?

Mr Natural tries wanting to do the dishes

Top of the World!

Sunday’s ride with the Bombay Bicycle Club included the “Alpe d’ Huez option”. While that is a considerable exaggeration, it did include 3 consecutive climbs over a ridge in the driftless area.

A horse camp for kids at the top of the first climb (PS I was a counselor here 50+ years ago)

My kinda road!

After picking someone up at the airport, I hit the road an hour after the group left, so I didn’t see anyone. The forecast said warm, windy, and cloudy. There was no mention of rain. Twenty miles in, the sky to the north looked ominous. The radar showed it moving southwest to northeast and that it would miss me entirely, just giving some dark sky to watch. The wind was strong out of the south, so that seemed like a safe bet. Thirty-some miles in, it started to rain. There was no cell service, so I had only the sky to go by, not radar or a revised forecast. It was cooling down. With no access to a map, I guessed on a shortcut. It turned out to be more of a detour than a shortcut, only cutting 1.5 miles from the total ride. The good news is that it cut some descents that would be hazardous in the rain. The bad news is that it cut a couple of favorite climbs, substituting straight and flat miles in the valley.

One of the climbs I missed out on Sunday

If you can remember this

you’re old.

• sprocket boards at the bike shop, so you could build a custom freewheel
• “corn cob” or “straight block” freewheels (14-15-16-17-18)
• “alpine” gearing (14-28)
• “Half-step” gearing (in which each shift between chainrings is ½ of each shift between cogs) or the “half-step plus granny” touring variant
• downtube shifters
• pre-Hyperglide cogs, which you could flip over when worn and they’d be like new again.
• Zeus (the Campagnolo clone company)
• Jack Taylor, Ron Cooper, 3Rensho, Cinelli, Ciocc, and other framebuilders
• Framesets hanging from ceiling hooks in the bikeshop – you ordered parts to have them built up custom.
• Suntour, Stronglight, Atom, Regina, Normandy, Simplex, Weinmann, Dia-Compe, and other component manufacturers
• center-pull brakes
• No braze-ons – all accessories clamped onto frame tubes
• Braze-on pump pegs
• When Cannondale made bags (panniers, handlebar bags), not bikes
• Tire savers
• Tubular (“sew up”) tires

How old is old?

• “40 is the new 30.” (Douglas Coupland, author of “Generation X”)
• “50 is the new 30…and delusion is the new self-esteem.” (Steve Kelley snd Jeff Parker – from the comic strip “Dustin”)
• “Don’t trust anybody over 30.” (Jack Weinberg of the UC-Berkeley Free Speech Movement)
• “14 or Fight.” (Christopher Jones, fictional character from the movie “Wild in the Streets”)
• “Your old road is rapidly agin’/Please get out of the new one/If you can’t lend your hand/For the times they are a-changin’.” (Bob Dylan)
• I saw a sign advertising Senior Apartments the other day. This is old to them:

I discovered the lifespan of a Campagnolo Super Record cassette is 3 chains. I placed my fourth chain on the Wilier last week and took it out for a test ride. Fine around the block, so we headed into the countryside. Soon, one cog began skipping under load. Fine, I thought, I can get by without that gear for today. I’ll change before the next ride. Then another and another began skipping. I realized I could not get up the infamous Mounds Park Road missing 3 of my lower gears, so I cut the ride short. I still got to see (and climb) this:

Actually, Campagnolo 11 speeds come with two groups of 3 and 5 loose sprockets, so individual parts could be replaced, if one could buy them that way – or if one chose to take some of the parts out of the box and leave others behind.

Note that we are moving on from the trees blooming to the trees leafing out. This is a few miles down the road from our adopted highway, and a few seconds before I came upon a rider with a broken derailleur hanger – which kind of ends one’s ride. I didn’t feel so bad about cutting ten mostly uphill miles from my ride.

With a new cassette in place I headed out again on Sunday, riding into a strong headwind for 25 miles. It was 45 degrees (7 C), so I tucked a bag between my jersey and my jacket for the first several miles to add insulation and wind-proofing. My luck held and the wind was still blowing for the tailwind part of the day when the temperature soared to 55 (13 C).

I was thinking that the bike is almost ready to go (more so than I), but that it needs new shoes (tires and tubes) before the trip, which brought this to mind:

The wind had me singing wind songs – the mind brings up what it brings up.

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