The hill before home...

Guinness -- It's Good for You

I recognize Capn by that necklace he always wears, but who's that other rando dude with the tie?

Bicycle Things I Found While Cleaning Out The Home Office

And I ain't done yet....some pictures are fuzzy because I snapped em with the phone camera. The real camera is buried in the rubble...


A RUSA window sticker from Membership Czar Don Hamilton...


A tube of Udder Butter, made by the folks at Lantiseptic...


A card from Hotel Aerotel, near the start of PBP...I think Jimmy Williams gave it to me...


A "proof of passage" postcard from Byron, sent to me when he did an overnight Lake Loop....


A very nice card from our friends in France...


My patch from the one and only year I did the ride...


A blank postcard from Jan Heine at Bicycle Quarterly...


A book, still unread, I believe from JoeRay...


This picture, mounted on foam board, was in my mail when I returned from PBP, with the message: "We already know the story but we are waiting to hear your version." It freaked me out until my buddy Anthony owned up. Shot is from the German movie, "The Lives of Others."...


Portion of laminated route from Blackbeard, done before I knew the route by heart...


And here's a shot from the Blackbeard route. The tall sign has since been removed...


A shot of me and Cap'n Ende eating hamburgers near the finish of the inaugural Cascade 1200. I photoshopped in that background...


Rich and Dan eating ice cream at Mapleview on a very cold birthday century four or five years ago...

Happy New Years...

Happy Holidays

Photographer and videographer Damon Peacock took this great shot of Yad Moss blanketed in snow. It's used with his permission. For a look at his season greetings in other languages, see his photo stream. He also has several cycling videos that are worth checking out.

Cap'n Ende and I saw that same scene in slightly greener conditions during LEL. Yad Moss was the high point -- and one of the highlights -- of LEL.

Grandpa Patents a Bike?

A rider on the DC-Rand list who works at the National Archives shared this image of a velocipede patented on this day in 1869. Looks like they hadn't quite figured out the chain thing yet. Click on the image for a larger view. Notice the last name. No relation that I'm aware of.

The posting drew this response from another DC-Rand rider: "Back to the Future!"

Roadside Attractions

Cafe Racer

Got Time to Kill? Bikes and More Bikes

Randonneur extraordinaire Bill Bryant sent me a link to this Flickr photo album. You didn't really have anything to do at work today, did you?

Keeping the Faith: Jan. 8 Salisbury 200K

Hell is the rhythm of others.
-- Paul Fornel, Need for the Bike

Randonneurs talk about "riding your own ride," about setting your own pace, cycling within your limits, feeling your own chain, finding the sweet pain in your legs that will carry you through the next 100k.

Fall into a group that is coming over the hills too slowly, or pushing too big of a gear in the flats, or accelerating at unexpected moments, and the game plan quickly goes out the window.

And so it was yesterday, on Tony G's 200K, a spectacular route deep in the Piedmont that took us through a host of towns with biblical names -- Mt. Gilead and Locust, and Faith, a town where JoeRay and Wes would lose their way.

A crew of 25 lined the street outside of a Salisbury bike shop for the 7:30 start and there were lots of familiar faces -- JoeRay, Jimmy, Wes, Jerry, Dean, Brother Rob, Gary, JoAnn, Tom, Mary, Chuck, John, Vance, JD, Lin, Joel, Ron and others I'm forgetting to name. A 27-degree start required cold weather gear, but we all knew we'd be baking in high 60s and sun by the afternoon. That 40-degree swing made it a hard day to dress for.

The group dropped it into social gear for the first 10 miles or so, and for a brief moment I thought we'd all hang together for the full 125 miles. That plan got derailed when Byron missed a shift and broke a chain on the first steep rise of the day. A few of us stopped to offer moral assistance only -- nobody wanted to get their hands oily. A true mechanic, Byron had the chain repaired in five minutes flat.

Rolling again, we chased the lead group to the first control in Oakboro. I left just in front of them for a nature break and had to chase again to latch on as the pace suddenly jumped up a couple clicks. I was expecting big things from this front bunch. Jimmy was there, a superb and stylish rider, and he'd brought along a buddy, Will from Greensboro, who once logged a 5th place finish on the Assault on Mt. Mitchell. Also along was Wes, John, JoeRay, Ron and Joel.

Our group motored down Hwy 731, a rolling stretch of smooth pavement to Mt. Gilead. Four of us -- me, JoeRay, Wes and John -- snuck out of the control first. Perhaps it had dawned on all of us that our only hope was in the pit stops, not on the course.

It's an odd phenomenon. One minute you have wings, you can fly and you're gliding effortlessly through a crisp landscape. The next you're tugging on the anchor rope, dragging a sunken dinghy up from the river bottom. For me, the transition occurred on Old US 52, a nasty excuse for a paved road. Anytime you see Old in front of a highway name, rest assured that the state has abandoned this stretch of asphalt to the cruel hands of time and weather. We bounced along into a headwind for a mere 1.8 miles -- just enough distance to chisel a few letters into my tombstone. I was cooked, but it would be another five miles before the buzzards started circling. Meantime, buddies JoeRay and Wes, danced up the hills. Glancing back, they could smell the stink of collapse on me; they know me too well.

We made it to the next control just in front of Will and Jimmy and Joel and a few others. I made the pretense of leaving with them, but now it was just a matter of time before my legs folded and gave the finger to every other body part that was counting on them to do forced labor. I was off the back in five miles, left alone with a sting in my lungs. I drifted along, all focus gone. But drifting is still forward motion, and on a brevet, sometimes that's all you need. It's taken years, but I now have faith that I will indeed recover. Just keep moving and wait for the shift, a click of some mental switch and all is right with the world once more, and the legs are back in the ring for Round 2.

It was on this stretch, at Barrier Store Road, that I checked the cue sheet and saw the mileage: 100.6. Another century in the books. That made 86 months in a row. I'd just taken the mantle from Brother Rich, the guy who inspired my streak and coaxed me into randonneuring.

Joel caught me and we rolled into the control at Locust, which had a McDonalds. I had a solitary burger and fries and a Coke, gathered myself together. We were 94 miles in. I could limp along for another 30 miles.

I waited for everyone else to clear the parking lot before striking out, solo, on the 20-mile run to the next control. We had a very favorable wind on this stretch. Pedaling was optional. By the final intermediate control at Mile 115, I felt fully recovered. I finished the day with Joel and Ron and JD. Brother Rich was there to greet us at the finish, and we capped the celebration off at a downtown Salisbury restaurant staffed by one of the world's chattiest waitresses.

On the way home I got a call from Brother Rob that he'd successfully finished. A big congratulations to him on what was a demanding but rewarding course.

There was one spot on the route that really captivated me. There was something magic about it, and I made a feeble effort to capture it on film. No luck.



Another great day on the bikes. Speaking of bikes, John M asked that I take a picture of his new ebay purchase. Iowa, if you're out there, here's the proof that she is being ridden and loved.

From Feb 8 200k

P.S. Dean sent along this picture. That's Brother Rob in the red.

From Feb 8 200k

Tolerance Ends

Better than a Handlebar Bag

I saw this floating around on a site I check occasionally. From a 1940 Popular Science magazine.

RUSA 10th Anniversary Ride Picnic

Post-ride photos.

Postcards from the Edge of Darkness on the Edge of Town

Byron, Mike R & Sridhar struck out on a nighttime Lake Loop last weekend. Because stores that serve as the regular controls were closed, I asked them to mail postcards from towns along the way.

Well, the first one from Byron has arrived:



Fantastic! I may have to start asking for postcards more often.

Hot enough for ya?

Riders suffering though the Heat Wave on the East Coast will enjoy today's highway cam shot of a snowy pass in Washington.


Here's a shot from LoupLoup Pass. We crossed that on the Cascade 1200K. We saw lots of rain, but no snow.

I'll bet the Shenandoah 1200K riders would have enjoyed a brief snowstorm on last weekend's steamy ride.

Thanks to Mark Thomas for the images.

News of a friend from Down Under

I’ve been saddened by a tragic accident halfway around the globe.

There’s a bit of a set-up, but here goes. Paris Brest Paris officials customarily schedule a mandatory bike inspection the day before the event. PBP 07 was no different, although ultimately the inspection was canceled because of rainy weather.

My wife and I were staying in Paris before PBP07, so the morning of the bike inspection I took the RER train from the city out to St. Quentin, where the ride started.

I wasn’t the only rider who did this and the PBP participants with their fully rigged randonneuring bikes were easy to spot. As we waited on the platform for the next train, I struck up a conversation with another rider. We were both equal parts of nerves and excitement. We only shared 15 minutes, a thin sliver of time, but it was enough for the first threads of friendship. When you're getting ready for a life-changing event like 1200K of cycling, friendships form easily.

He told me his name – Bjorn – but I got in my head that he was Ian. I snapped a picture of him on the platform.


Here he is. His gesture says it all. A fellow rider brimming with life and enthusiasm and confidence.

There are also a couple photos of him on the PBP photo site. His frame # is 4966.

I did not see Bjorn again, but I had his picture in my PBP folder. I had it in the back of my mind to email the photo to him so we could reconnect for a laugh or two.

Last week, an Australian rider named Ewen posted about this Research Trailer Park item. I saw the post, thanked Ewen for it, and took the opportunity to forward the picture of “Ian” and ask for help in hunting him down.

Ewen emailed back with the bad news:

This is a picture of Bjorn Blasse from Western Australia. Sadly Bjorn is in a coma in hospital after a parachuting incident a few months ago.

I was stunned. I had not expected anything like this. I’d so looked forward to surprising Bjorn with the picture and reliving our PBP adventures.

There is some information about Bjorn’s condition on the Audax Website, and Ewen has promised to keep me updated.

I also found Bjorn's Web site.

My heart goes out to Bjorn and his wife. I look forward to the day that Bjorn and I get to share another easy laugh.

Caption Contest Closed -- We Have A WINNER!

Thanks to all who participated in the recent photo caption contest. The Cap'n has pored over the entries with a fine-combed tooth and selected his favorites.

First Place goes to Adrian Hands. His entry:

Never one to trust arrows nor cue sheets, Cap'n scans the heavens for celestial navigation, like the randonneurs of the golden age.

Second Place goes to Anonymous for this entry:

"That's a long seatpost. How tall did you say you were?"

Prize packages are on their way.

Supernova E3 Bicycle Light: Photos

I got this light in last week and have not had a chance to wire it yet. But here are a few shots. It's beautifully made. I can't wait to try it out.

The rack on my Coho randonneuring bike has a braze-on for a front light. I've been mounting the E6 there. The E3 is actually a snugger fit, as you can see in these shots.

I'll post as I begin the wiring process. It looks a bit trickier than the E6. Stay tuned.

FYI, The E3 light was purchased from Mark Thomas' shop in Washington. He may have more, so give him a holler.

In June, I hope to get a Schmidt Edelux for a side-by-side comparison.

"Immer"

Paul P and I slogged to the top of the leg-breaking hill. A small sign rolled into view and Paul cracked me up:

"'Immer?' Imm 'er some big d@*# hills!"

Had I not been gasping for air so hard, I would've laughed myself right off the bike.

But that lonley "Immer" sign stayed with me. Was it the site of a forgotten community, or a general store long gone? A year later, Google still won't give up anything, but my Topo software offers a clue. Remember the sharp curve with the pretty church up above it? The USGS map says that is Immer. Makes sense. There are signs of civilization there, as opposed to that shaded, quiet intersection. So maybe the DOT just put the sign in the wrong place. A little comic relief for us randonneurs.

And Immer glad they did.

Quick update (from Mike): Ed has posted photos from the 400K here. A few of the usual suspects show up.

Bike to Work Week: Day 1

These people apparently missed the memo.

Bike Photos on a Sunny Day

Our friends dropped by last night before a dinner date. They asked for a peek at my bikes, so I rolled them out of the dungeon and into the light of day. I took shots of a few interesting bits. Bikes include: 1971 Silk Hope, 1969 Raleigh Professional, 1970 Raleigh International, 2 1971 Raleigh Internationals, 1965 Schwinn Paramount, 2008 Coho Randonneur, 1958 Rudge 3-speed, 1974 Raleigh Gran Sport, late 1950s Raleigh Lenton Grand Prix. Not all are pictured in close ups. Enjoy.