The Al Johnson Bachelor Ride

A big congratulations to N.C. RBA Al Johnson who is getting married in October to Dorothy Jones.

On Saturday best man Mike O’Connor organized a pre-nuptial bike ride.

I signed up under the mistaken belief we’d be heading to Hooters for a bucket of wings. Wrongo, Bucko. Our ultimate destination was Yanceyville’s annual Brightleaf Hoedown, a small street-fair named for a variety of North Carolina tobacco that was first cured in Caswell County in 1839.

Pre-ride, I put the Schmidt hub and rear lights on my bike -- you never know what time of night a bachelor event will wind down and you sure don't want to get caught sans reflective gear. I rolled out my door at 7:30 a.m. for the 15-mile ride to Al’s house in Morrisville.

Al, Mike and I struck out at 9 on the 63-mile course to Yanceyville. We followed a route Adrian stitched together, traveling first through RTP, then past the weekend’s Gay Pride celebration in Durham and north on a busy artery or two before we hit the rural roads.

Although we had a headwind most of the way up, nobody much cared or complained. The sun was out, temps were in the mid 70s and life was grand. There were several long flat stretches where Al and I swapped PBP stories.

The conversation trailed off as we hit a couple short, steep climbs.

“Who put up that wall back there?” Al asked as we chugged up from a creek bottom.

Fittingly, we rode past a dozen tobacco fields. Most of this year’s crop is already in the barns although we saw one farmer harvesting the top leaf.

Here’s a picture of a new-fangled curing barn near Gordonton. Not as picturesque as the old wooden structures, but you get the same heavenly sweet smell as the tobacco dries to a golden brown. If cigarettes tasted half as good as that aroma, everybody would smoke.




We stopped for Cokes and carbs at a corner store in Leasburg before the final 11-mile push into Yanceyville. The last mile up Hwys 86/158 featured a lung-busting ascent. Fun!








The Hoedown was in full swing when we arrived in Yanceyville and we made our way to the town square. It was roped off, with a central stage as the anchor point for dozens of craft booths and food stands.








We parked our bikes in the rack beside Gilbert Anderson’s shop. Here’s a picture of the storefront in the old A.H. Motz Building.









It's just across the street from the magnificent county courthouse.







Gilbert is a PBP ancien and the owner of one of the finest René Herse bikes on the planet. His shop is a randonneur’s delight. Out of the way, but well worth a visit.









We didn’t have to wander far to find the pork rinds. There they were, in the booth right in front of Gilbert’s shop. A dozen varieties, including the “whole wheat” bag for those who prefer a “heart healthy” label on their pig skin. Haha. Hehe. Hoho.






Beside Gilbert’s shop were a variety of antique farm devices: an old steam tractor, a 1920s hay baler, several “hit-miss” engines, toy tractors, and a Ford Model T or A converted into a “Hoover Tractor” through a unique gearing system.

Here's a video of A.C. Culpepper explaining how his hit-miss engines work. He had three on display, including the Moonshine Special, which ran on alcohol fumes.



I wondered the square and videotaped this tobacco auctioneer holding a mock sale. Those auctioneers and their singsong chants were once as common in the Tobacco Belt as late summer locusts.




Today there are two surviving traditional flue-cured tobacco auctions in the United States. Here’s an NPR story about that dying craft.

Meantime, Alan’s fiancé Dorothy and Mike’s wife arrived with a sheet cake to celebrate the upcoming nuptials. Gilbert rousted several riders -- Mike R, Adrian and Byron -- who’d ridden up the night before and were camping down the hill. Everyone crowded into Gilbert’s shop. We applauded Al and Dorothy and in true rando style nearly demolished the cake in 15 minutes flat. Only a small corner, I'd call it a cake edge really, remained. Byron vowed to polish it off at breakfast.

I decided I’d had too much bachelor cake to bike home (better safe than sorry!) and hitched a ride with Mike and Alan and their better halves. I crowded into the back seat, apologizing in advance for the smell, which was not at all like the sweet aroma of cured tobacco.

Congratulations, Al and Dorothy!

"Are we in Loudeac Yet?"

Unhappy with the prohibitive cost of flying bikes to France, North Carolina randonneurs recently tested a bike that will fit into an airline's overhead bin.

Test runs on Saturday were extremely positive. Several riders were impressed with the bike's dual suspension system. Others observed that the six-inch, hard rubber tires would virtually eliminate flats.

By unanimous vote, riders recommended that the North Carolina club negotiate for a fleet purchase of the nimble cycles. A fixed gear version will be offered.

A wheel with a Schmidt hub is currently being built.

The plan is to hang a Carradice bag off the back. Presumably the bag could also double as the bike's soft-side carrying case.

Test Pilot #1 Adrian asks: "Are we in Loudeac yet?"



Test Pilot #2 Byron puts the bike through a few aerodynamic spins. His impressions: "It turns on a dime," he said. And why not? It's wheels aren't much bigger than a quarter."

Tar Heel Riders in the News

N&O reporter Joe Miller has just wrapped up his PBP series with a fine article that details the ups and downs of three Tar Heel riders -- Branson, JD and Glenn -- during this year’s ride. (Okay, Glenn’s technically from Virginia, but we claim him as our own.)

The three hung together for much of the 760-mile event, sharing many of the same pleasures and pains. Among the article’s highlights:

* Mountaineer extraordinaire JD Stewart claims this year’s PBP was harder than his climb of the 26,901-foot Cho Oyu, the world’s sixth highest mountain. That puts things in perspective, no?

* Branson describes the hallucinations he had during the ride. As sleep deprivation took its toll, Branson thought he was riding in Quebec. Perhaps that explains a one-hour detour during the event?

* Glenn describes the emotional lows he experienced during the ride, saying he got downright grumpy. And I thought that only happened to me…

If you still want more after reading the article, check out Joe’s blog for a few more anecdotes that didn’t make the print edition.

Bikes, Bikes, Bikes

When I traveled to France in August for this year's Paris Brest Paris, bikes were on my mind. I saw them everywhere -- on the streets, on the PBP route, at work and at play, in art and in advertising. As you'll see, les vélos are a big part of the French culture.



Here's a rack of the Velib bikes, a new self-service bicycle transit system launched by the city of Paris in July. More than 10,000 bikes, equipped with baskets and generator lights, can be rented at 750 locations around the city for as little as 1 Euro a day. The program looks to be wildly successful. We saw the stylish bikes everywhere we turned.

While touring the City of Paris Museum, I spotted this painting of a track race.



What better way to announce that La Samaritaine department store is closed for renovations than with a bicycle poster. Check out the dog in the basket.



This poster was in the door of an art shop just down the street from our hotel near the Bastille. Unfortunately the exhibit ended a few days before we arrived in Paris. That cyclist is in a very unorthodox riding position. Good posture, though.


Here's my very own steed on the train to St. Quentin for bike inspection. Certain train cars are equipped with hooks to hang the bikes out of the way.


You'll see lots of shots of bikes parked outside the gynasium in St. Quentin, where PBP check-in was held. I liked the way theses bikes lined up on the railing beside the soccer field.



Ende took this shot of English rider Drew Buck's vintage bike with a "retodrive" transmission, a two-speed set-up which required Drew to pedal his bike backwards uphill! Read more about retrodrive bikes here.



Here's Drew in action. I snapped this shot of him just outside Brest. Why the onions and the unusual bike garb? Read more about "Onion Johnnies" here.


Here's Cap'n Ende lifting his bike in a victory celebration on the Brest pedestrian bridge. "Careful," I warned him, "I've read that can cause kidney stones."


I took this shot of a postal carrier's bike in St. Jean de Luz. Notice the official emblem, La Poste, on the front bag and the down tube. Does the USPS use bikes? If they do, I've never seen 'em.




I took this shot of a bank poster in St. Jean de Luz. Why does this remind me of my buddy JoeRay? Hmm... that grade looks steeper than 3%....

A frame builder moves to North Carolina

Seattle friend Mark Thomas emailed to let me know one of the riders from the Pacific Northwest has moved to rural North Carolina. Talk about culture shock…

The rider is Charles Lathe, the man behind the custom lugged steel Coho Bicycles.

You can learn more about Charles’ bikes on his Web site and blog.

Welcome, Charles!

Charles has settled in to Franklinville, a small Piedmont town just west of Ramseur. That’s not too far from the 300K and 400K routes of our brevet series, and slightly southwest of the town of Liberty, the site of our near abandon on this spring’s flèche ride.


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Poking around Charles’ site, I learned that his bikes are named after the Coho salmon.

I also learned that the Coho is not Charles’ only tie to the sea. He worked for several years as a clamdigger. Check out his interesting blog entry about that career.

Perhaps there’s something about the Piedmont region that attracts framebuilders. McLean Fonvielle, the maker of Silk Hope and McLean bicycles, once had a one-man frame shop in nearby Saxapahaw. Although McLean died in the early 1980s, his elegant frames are still sought by collectors.

You can see samples of McLean’s work here.

For more information about McLean, see this interview I did with him in the 1970s.

Hokey Smoke, Bullwinkle: Lake Loop September 16, 2007

A dozen riders, lots of sun, temperatures in the low 70s. The perfect day for the Lake Loop.

Wait...A dozen riders on a North Carolina permanent? Hokey Smoke, Bullwinkle!

And a dirty dozen it was. Along for the ride from the local rando crew: Adrian, Branson, Byron, Jerry, JoeRay, Paul, Rich and Wes. Others who joined us included two of my friends from the Gyros, Randy and Mario, and a friend of Branson’s, Chris. (We told those not signed up for the permanent that they could not assist us, and we asked them to stay off the front as much as possible. But we could not stop Mario and Randy from charging up all the hills. Animals!)

We struck out at 8 a.m. from the Stony Hill Fire Station and lost Adrian fairly early. The pace was advertised at 16-17 mph, sort of a friendly recovery ride for the riders just back from PBP. Talk about false advertising -- we finished with an average pace of 18.7 over the 130-mile course. Somebody must have opened the oat bag. This was a frisky crew.

It was fun to swap war stories about PBP. The peloton chatter, almost nonstop, was refreshing, and stood in contrast to the first night of PBP, when everybody clammed up in the predawn rain. No cyclists can hold a conversation better than randonneurs, and Sunday’s ride felt like an extended social hour.

Paul called out “À gauche” to mark one of the turns. Yes, our minds and hearts are still in France. It was clear that the bad memories of PBP are already being erased, replaced by rosier remembrances of that epic adventure -- the good food, the comradeship, the scenic towns, the smooth ribbon of pavement through the rolling countryside. Give us six months and we won’t even remember that it rained.

When we hit Boydton at Mile 65 everything was closed, even the one convenience store, so we rode on to Skipwith, where the drinks from the vending machine still cost $.50. Seeing the price, Joe said, “I think we’ve traveled back in time.” In fact, the entire Lake Loop, held under Technicolor blue skies, had that feel. Motorist after motorist stuck a hand out the window and … waved at us, just glad to see us out there enjoying the day. Odd. We'd traveled back in time and landed in a colorized episode of Leave It to Beaver.

We had lunch at the Subway in Clarksville, For the record, Yours Truly voted for the double cheeseburgers across the street.

It was in front of the Subway where I snapped this picture of the woman in her Curious George T-shirt. Awesome! Where can I get one?

The wind turned favorable as we left Clarksville, and we motored along as a tight little team until Oxford, when we lost Branson and JoeRay. Foul play? No. They came to their senses and decided to ride at a reasonable pace. The group splintered once more on the final climb up to New Light Road, with Jerry, Mario and Randy the first horses back to the barn. That gave Jerry a new course record of 8:26. Not too shabby.

Another beautiful day on the bikes. Thanks to all.

Afterwards, several of us headed to Rudinos, a pizza joint in North Raleigh. Great minds must think alike because three folks ordered the Greek pie. Me? My mind’s not so great. I got the pepperoni. As we were wrapping up, local RBA Al Johnson dropped in and helped finish off a slice or two. Always good to see him, and we got the scoop on his upcoming wedding. The true randonneur that he is, we’re throwing him a bachelor ride at the end of this month.

With so much interest in RUSA’s R-12 award, you can count on another permanent next month. Stay tuned.

Wet Weather Essentials

In the days leading up to this year’s Paris Brest Paris, my wife and I strolled the streets of Paris, riding La Grande Roue, ducking in and out of ice cream shops and patisseries. Life was sweet.

But as we did the museum circuit, I was slightly alarmed by how unsettled the French weather seemed. Yes there were patches of sun, but there were also heavy purple clouds, thick and low, sweeping across the sky. Twice we got caught in afternoon downpours.

Meantime, the weather predictions for PBP had turned from glorious to gloomy. Initially, various forecasts called for a slight chance of rain on Day 1, with lots of sun for days 2, 3 and 4. The sun icons were now gone, replaced by ominous rain clouds and a call for gusty winds.

Having ridden through the sun-filled days of PPB 03, I was hoping for the same this year. But as the start drew near, it was clear the ideal weather of four years ago would not be replayed.

I began preparing for the worst.

I’d brought half fenders, the kind that attach with rubber straps. I put them on about six hours before the start, followed by a quick shakedown ride to make sure nothing rubbed.

Next, I laid out my wet weather accessories. I had decided not to carry an extra bag on my bike for clothes. Simply put, I’d overpacked in ’03 and this time arond I opted for the minimalist approach. My plan was to either wear or carry what I needed in my jersey pockets, or in a Camelbak with its bladder removed.

My goal was to stay reasonably warm. I’ve largely given up on trying to stay dry on rainy rides.

Here’s what I wore or packed:

* Wool long sleeve undershirt. I consider my medium weight merino wool shirt by Smartwool essential cycling clothing for cool weather riding. Even when I was soaked to the bone during PBP, the wool kept me warm.

* Arm warmers. I carried the same pair of Campy arm warmers that I used in PBP 03. A no-brainer: they’re easy to carry, light and warm, and they can be pushed down around the wrists when the weather dries out or heats up. I often wore them under my wool shirt for added warmth.

* Leg warmers. I carried two pairs -- REI knee warmers and Campagnolo full leg warmers. There were times when I wore both pairs. They’re a good option because, like arm warmers, they can be pushed out of the way when not needed.

* Wind vest. I tend to get chilled when riding, even in warm weather. I wore a wind vest for most of the ride, even on the sunny portions of Day 2.

* O2 rain jacket. This thing is worth its weight in gold. It folds up small in its own little pouch, costs about $30 and weighs next to nothing. I pulled it out every time the rain turned heavy.

* Rain paints. I debated whether to carry a pair of goofy Performance rain paints. In the end I rolled them up really small and stuck them inside my Camelbak (I’d removed the bladder). Ende laughed when I pulled em out. But the longer it rained, the better they looked. They didn’t keep me very dry, but they did keep me warm, and they kept road grime off of my riding shorts.

* Ear warmers. I’ve gotten in the habit of wearing ear warmers to keep my neck warm. I don’t like the constricting feel of a balaclava. The ear warmers, in conjunction with a knit cap, produce the same result.

* Knit cap. I carried a knit cap that is essentially a lightweight winter cap that covers the ears. I wore it constantly at night and in the rain, but took it off during the relatively warm Day 2 as we headed out to Brest.

* Wool socks. I typically wore two pairs of thin wool socks. I did this for reasons other than warmth. I’ve found two pairs provide extra padding and help prevent numb toes.

* Neoprene shoe covers. These are not much different than the neoprene socks I sometimes wear for cold water surfing. They velcroed in the back and had an elastic band across the bottom with an opening for shoe cleats.

* Newspaper bags. I carried four newspaper bags -- the ones the carrier puts around your newspaper on rainy days -- and used two for the trip out to Brest and two for the inbound leg. At their very best, they managed to keep my feet relatively dry during the heavy rainstorm as we neared Loudeac on Day 2.

* Long-fingered gloves. Besides regular cycling gloves, I also carried a pair of light fleece gloves. They kept the hands warm, if not dry, during rainstorms.

The weather and the distance took its toll on the long-fingered gloves and the neoprene booties. Both were tossed at the hotel. I’ll replace both before the next long ride in similar weather.