A funny thing happened on the way to the

clinic. The main road there is torn up and there was a Detour sign for bikes. I followed the sign, which led me onto a bike path. There were no further signs to direct me back to the road I needed to be on. I eventually found my way there. With the temperature 88 degrees F (31 C) and dewpoint 73 degrees (23 C) I was pretty sticky on arrival.

To avoid the detour, I took the scenic route home. What is normally a 15 mile round trip ended up as 30 miles. Along the way, I didn’t think I was in Kansas anymore.

A suburban retention pond in Wisconsin…bears would be a stretch; but alligators?!?

https://ytcropper.com/cropped/1N5efa2b6ec33f4

On the way home I stopped to check the cherries on the tree by the middle school. I hoped to pick another pound or three. The tree is dead. Now I know we’re not in Kansas.

I saw someone in a t-shirt that said “achiever” on the front. I wondered if that were a true statement, or aspirational. I wondered about being required to wear shirts that label us, maybe even honestly, or maybe with our family’s judgments, and what they would say: “Underachiever”; “I coulda been somebody”; “Never lived up to my potential”; “I told you you should have gone to med school, but no – you wanted to be a plumber”; “I lie – but mostly to myself”; “My bike deserves better”; “Too much money and not enough sense”. The last two are for people riding bikes that are faster than they are. Your comments/additions are welcome.

Detours were the theme of the week. On our continuing “Wednesday Night’s Greatest Hits” tour, we did the “Mt Horeb South” ride. Screaming downhill at 40+mph we came upon a “Road Closed 1000 Feet” sign, then a “Road Closed 500 Feet” sign. The road ended (with an escape route to the right) in a pile of sand (that we could have turned into a ramp to jump the closed section but I couldn’t talk anyone into doing it while I took pictures). The creek is tiny but the trench was pretty deep and a lot wider than the creek, with steep and muddy banks; not to mention lots of heavy equipment and a crew working. The once and future bridge was nowhere in sight. Some “Road Closed” signs are only suggestions. Rivers can be forded or maybe have something to cross on. We’ve had highway crews welcome us to cross a partly-finished bridge when we asked nicely. This was clearly the end of the route. And of course there was no cell phone service and our map had an inset covering the spot where we were. There was only one way to turn so it was an easy choice. Then it was just a matter of making our way back north and east by any means necessary. This was not the Royal We. I rode with two other people for the first time in a few months. We didn’t share air. or beer.

E-bike commercial

Early in our ride, I saw a car and a bike approaching from the rear. Both were clearly going to overtake us – three men in bike clothes on road bikes, going about 20 mph. The bike came closer and closer. As she pulled around us on the left, she was sitting bolt upright, wearing pedal pushers, and rang her bell, passing us effortlessly. I had to look for the battery. Indeed, it was an e-bike.

I’m not sure which would have looked funnier – three guys close to 70 in bike clothes, or three guys closer to 20 being passed by a middle-aged woman sitting upright on a step-thru frame and passing without breaking a sweat on a 90 degree day. I wanted video. One of my friends thought it would be better were she passing Tour de France riders climbing L’Alpe d’Huez. At any rate, at least one version would make a great commercial.

This being July 4, I have to say something. I can’t think of this holiday without re-posting a history lesson:

While the myths we’ve been raised on are “Give me liberty or give me death”, “No taxation without representation”, and “Don’t tread on me”, the reality is a bit more complicated. Genocide against the current inhabitants was already well under way. Imperialism was a central founding principle. While the term “manifest destiny” had not yet been coined, the US was already expanding, and by the time independence was recognized by England in 1783, the US had claimed land to the Mississippi River and beyond. We had already brought people to work as slaves on our plantations. We enshrined in our constitution that a slave was equal to 3/5 of a person, not to acknowledge that they were more than half human and allow them to vote, but in order to increase the representation of the slave states in the House of Representatives and increase their share of taxes. Were three of every five enslaved people counted, or 3/5 of each person enslaved? At least they were acknowledged as “Persons” as well as property.

Representatives and direct Taxes shall be apportioned among the several States which may be included within this Union, according to their respective Numbers, which shall be determined by adding to the whole Number of free Persons, including those bound to Service for a Term of Years, and excluding Indians not taxed, three fifths of all other Persons.

US Constitution: Article 1, Section 2, Clause 3.

Back in the saddle again

Tonight was my first Wednesday night ride since the tour ended. My bike arrived back from Massachusetts last week and I cleaned and rebuilt it Monday (except for the new chain, which I installed Tuesday).

After riding my city bikes, it felt great to be back on this bike again. Ten miles into the ride I felt my rear tire losing pressure. A prior patch had failed. A woman walking her dog to the mailbox offered assistance. After 4400 miles and double digit punctures, this felt pretty routine. I changed the tube and went on my way.

Thirty two miles felt like a warm up. I think I’ll be able to handle a century in a week and a half. The post-ride pizza felt like a snack. I think I’ll need to adjust my eating to keep from regaining the weight I lost. While riding your bike 80 miles/day for 9 weeks seems like a pretty effective weight loss program, I doubt it will catch on.

Flood

My basement windows are sandbagged. The river is out of its banks and we are currently ½ block outside of the high risk area for flooding. I live on an isthmus between two lakes separated by a lock and dam. They are releasing water from the dam today so the river should rise again. I live on 100 year old landfill. What was once a meandering creek through marshland is now a straight cut from lake to lake. It is dry today so we’ll see what happens.

TNS

You may have noticed that old people tend to reminisce. Truth be told, that doesn’t seem to be limited to old people.

Since I am officially old (Emery, you didn’t see that here), allow me to reminisce.

I was thinking about war the other day, which reminded me of my old friend Francis Hole. He was an agronomist (soil scientist in plain English) and always signed his name “Francis Hole, TNS”, which stood for “temporarily not soil”. Alas, Professor Hole is now PS (“permanently soil”). Aside: It is due to Professor Hole that Wisconsin has a State Soil (Antigo Silt Loam, if you wanted to know).

He was also my draft counselor. Professor Hole was a Conscientious Objector during WW II. I was a CO during the Vietnam War (the American War to the folks whose country we invaded).

from the Francis Hole Memorial webpage

Dr. Hole taught me about the process of applying for CO status and we also talked about our views toward war. He let me know that CO status was very hard to get without the backing of a church. Personal morals didn’t carry much weight with the US government. Dr. Hole was a Quaker, one of few religions with a firm anti-war stance. He asked about my church.

Having the backing of a church seemed like a Catch-22. Since many (if not most) wars arise from religious conflicts (especially if said religion has an imperialistic bent), since the dominant religion in the US is Christianity, and since Christianity is among the more imperialistic religions (imperialism and evangelism seem pretty closely linked, both historically and philosophically), it seemed pretty hard to convince the government that I was firmly opposed to war and a Christian (remember the Crusades?).

Dr Hole sent me to the minister of the church in which I was raised, and of which I was a member (that’s another story). The minister asked me what I knew of the church’s position. Not much, I said. He asked me about my convictions. About that, I knew more.

After we talked for awhile, he let me know that our church (Congregational, now part of the United Church of Christ), taught that each member has a personal relationship with God; that he as a minister was not a go-between, and that he as a minister could not tell me what to believe. (Another aside: you may have noticed that religions, and other belief systems, tend to fragment over time. New sects arise and folks bicker over smaller and smaller differences. UCC is unusual, in that it arose from sects actually joining together.)

He followed that by telling me that he would testify on my behalf before the draft board. My lottery number was high enough that that never came to pass.