Friday, October 12, 2012

RIDING SAN ANTONIO AND THE MISSION TRAIL


Visit San Antonio, Texas where the local folks are friendly, the beans and beef are almost as good as the beef and beans, and where you absolutely have to visit the Alamo. Whatever the reason for your visit, missing the Alamo would be like stopping for a day in Vatican City and not seeing that chapel. Really.
 
Serious urban cycling is relatively new here. There are newly marked bike lanes, dedicated bike lanes and some of the main roads outside the city have well maintained  wide shoulders. If all you want to do while you are here is pedal around the downtown or see the historical Monte Vista neighborhood, find a B-cycle Station and use your credit card to rent a heavy duty Trek three-speed for $10.00 a day. That does not include a helmet or light. It does have a cable lock. Take a look at info@sanantoniobikeshare.org for more info.

If you want to get in a few more miles bike the Mission Trail (about 16 miles one way) and bring your own bike (expensive unless you drive to San Antonio), or rent one from one of the several area shops. I like Abel's Bike Shop (abelbike@swbell.net). He rents hybrid, mountain and road bikes and will deliver and pick up rentals at the local hotels at your convenience. Each of his bikes comes with a helmet and the official San Antonio-Bexar County (say "bear" because down here the "x" is silent) Bike Map. Don't leave your hotel without it. Abel's rates start at $40.00 a day for hybrids.

The first church on the Mission Trail is San Antonio de Valero, now known around the world as simply "The Alamo". The actual building was never completed and it is unlikely it was ever used as a mission church, but many in Texas consider it the most sacred mission site of them all. The others (in order going south) are Mission Conception, Mission San Jose, Mission San Juan and finally, Mission Espada. San Jose has been in constant use as a place of worship for almost three hundred years and is in beautiful condition. Each of the missions has unique beauty, so take time to visit each one.

Now be warned. I have a decent sense of direction but I had a difficult time finding my way around downtown San Antonio. Maybe that's because the original city planners were mounted on horseback. Today the pavement meanders a bit and both ends of the same street might not share the same name. Despite having three paper maps, two iPhone map apps and help from Siri, I was lost several times one day trying to get back to my hotel. But, frankly, unless it starts raining (it did) being lost here is kind of fun.

Enjoy, and ride on pardner.


Monday, September 3, 2012

THE MOST INTERESTING CYCLIST I HAVE EVER MET, SO FAR


            A lone scale model P-51 Mustang flew guard outside Ed McNeff's tent on RAGBRAI this summer. It helped him find his tent in a large field of look-alike canvas shelters. It also flew as a reminder of how he spent he spent many of his 88-years before he retired, the first time.

                                               Ed McNeff's tent on RAGBRAI XL, 2012
   
       Ed graduated from high school in 1942 and joined the US Army. Fourteen months later he had learned to salute, march and fly a Stearman Army Air Corps trainer well enough to get his pilot's wings. Later that year, 1943, he flew his first combat missions in a P-47 Thunderbolt guarding American bombers on daylight raids over Germany and Eastern Europe. In 1944 he first climbed into the cockpit of a P-51 Mustang, one of the best fighter aircraft ever built. It was at home on a low level bombing mission as it was a dogfight at 20,000 feet. It was the only Allied plane that could hold its own with the new but few jet fighters Germany built before the end of the war.

       When the Army Air Corps became the United States Air Force on September 18, 1947 Ed McNeff went right along into the new service. When he retired from the Air Force in 1975 he was wearing two stars and had led US fighter commands all the way from Eglin Air Force Base, Florida to Fuchu Air Station, Japan.

       When he retired from the Air Force Ed entered law school (I didn't ask him but I have to believe all of his professors would have called him "sir") and then set up his own firm. When he retired from this second career he looked in the newspaper for a used road bike. He found a nice used Nishiki (red, double-butted chrome moly steel) for $250 and without any particular training Ed started riding from California to his old home in New Jersey. Good fighter pilots are notorious for making big, important, life altering decisions in a very short amount of time. And living to tell about them.

       He bought some transcontinental maps from Adventure Cycling, outfitted his Nishiki with panniers and other lightweight camping gear from REI and at age 61 pedaled off to see America, this time from  ground level. A grandson and his granddaughter started with him but soon the prospect of pedaling 3,000 miles across the country sapped both their excitement and enthusiasm and the two returned home. Ed rode solo to Oregon, met his daughter Cathy for the ride across Washington and Idaho into Montana. After she returned to work Ed continued east and rode the long downhills out of the Rocky Mountains.

       He trained for the ride as he rode the ride. Twenty miles a day was plenty at first. As he went further his daily milage went up. By the time he reached the Dakotas he could turn out a hundred miles a day. He did concede the self-contained ride wasn't nearly as enjoyable as sleeping in a bed at night in a room with both a bed and a shower and eating food in places that had real tables. He shipped his camping gear home. But even without the extra weight the trip had taken its toll. Ed threw in the towel in Minneapolis and flew both himself and his bicycle home to southern California.

       He regretted his decision almost immediately and decided to continue his ride across America from where he had left it. He flew back to Minneapolis, reassembled his bike and headed north. His enthusiasm returned along the way and his remaining belly fat disappeared. He was back on a mission.

       He veered off the Adventure Cycling maps when the mood struck him. He crossed the border at Sault Ste. Marie and then pedaled across Canada to Niagara and crossed back into the states. He pedaled across New York, Pennsylvania and then to Atlantic City, New Jersey. When he finished the home stretch to Cape May, where his brother still lived, he had been on the road a total of 63 days.

       Ed didn't rest on his well deserved laurels after he rode across America. He wanted to see the ceremonies at the 65th Anniversary of the D-Day landing on the Atlantic beaches in France. As a retired military officer he flew on a space available basis on a C-17 to a base in Germany. There was plenty of room for his bike in the huge aircraft. He pedaled from Germany through Luxembourg to a bed and breakfast on a farm near St. Lo, France. After the ceremonies were over Ed put his bike in the back of a rental car and drove back to Germany.

       In late summer 2009 "space available" for someone with a bicycle back to the states became "no space available", even for a retired Major General. Ed took his bike apart into as many pieces as he could and mailed everything back to his daughter in Texas. Suddenly the Air Force found space for a retired general traveling light.

       Back in Texas, Cathy took the Nishiki to a local bike shop. They reassembled it, tuned it up and both waited for Ed's return. When he reached the states, Cathy told her dad that she had been offered $250 for the bike, the same price he had paid for it 14 years and thousands of miles earlier. Ed sold the red Nishiki and bought a more modern, lighter weight road bike.

       Ed and his daughter Cathy have ridden the Tour of Tuscon twice, the Ride the Rockies a couple of times, the Grand Canyon to Nogales Tour and, of course, RAGBRAI, once in 2011 and again this year.

       This year my friends and I rode 1400 miles this year training for RAGBRAI. Ed told me he went on a 50 mile ride a few weeks before the big Iowa ride and decided he was fit enough. And he was. He did catch a sag wagon one day 30 miles into that day's ride.  That was the day the heat index was 120 out on the asphalt roads, and I think that was the same day I rode 12 miles before catching an ambulance to the hospital suffering with dehydration. Like a lot of the riders, Ed has taken some time off his bike since RAGBRAI. He will go on some little hour and a half 20 milers just to keep in shape.

       What's next? While he doesn't yet have any firm plans, Ed daydreams every now and then about a bike trip through Italy. If he does he will see some countryside from down on the ground that he had only seen from the air, 68 years ago. Ride on, Ed. Ride on.

                                                 Ed McNeff, Maj. General, USAF (Ret.),
                                               with his daughter, Cathy Shaw after a day's
                                                  ride (and a shower) on RAGBRAI XL.




     




     



     

Sunday, August 5, 2012

I  cycled across Iowa last week with RAGBRAI. Sunday, 64 miles from Sioux Center to Cherokee, was one of the best rides I've ever had. The folks along the way were friendly. The hills were rolling and the wind wasn't in our face. It was hot, but not too hot. In fact as the sun came up over the corn field, many of us were already 15 miles toward Cherokee, our ending town for the day. When the temps are in the nineties and higher, it is a very good thing to start as early as possible.


A big part of the adventure of cycling is meeting new people along the way. Of course I do that whether I am cycling or not but cyclists are pretty interesting. At a breakfast stop about 20 miles out I met a philosophy prof from UCLA who was riding. I don't remember how we recognized as pipe smoking, tweed wearing thought thinkers (my BA is in philosophy) but before we knew we were trading quips about Descartes and that pesky Hegel on the edge of an Iowa corn field. Who would have thought? RAGBRAI riders eat whenever and wherever they can. Cornfields, sidewalks, under shade trees...wherever.


Last year I drank a bottle of G2 every hour I was on the road. In addition along the way I drank water and Iowa FFA Blue Lemonade (don't ask, just get a cup if you are lucky enough to find it). Staying hydrated isn't just something your mother told you that can forget as soon as you pedal out the front door. You positively, absolutely, have to do it. If you don't you will experience what I did last week.


Keep rolling on. It feels good.

Thursday, July 26, 2012

THE NICEST MAN IN IOWA

Meet Larry, the nicest man in Iowa. He lieves on the family farm 10 miles west of Cherokee. When RAGBRAI announced the 2012 route would pass in front of his home Larry turned his shaded front yard into an unofficial rest stop for hot, tired cyclists headed for Cherokee.

He built a dozen 2x12 benches under the trees in his yard. He put a livestock tank in front of his house where riders could dip their heads or their caps into refreshing, cool water. He filled picnic coolers with ice and bottled water. He stocked home freezers and refrigerators with more ice and water and stayed busy ferrying refills on his farm 4x4 to restock the coolers.

The price for this service? Zero, zilch, nada. No donations accpted. Larry said he did it because he likes to help people and enjoys giving a thirsty person a cold drink of water and a comfortable place to rest.

There are Larrys all over the world. The 12,000 or so riders who passed by this front yard oasis really appreciated finding this one.

As I finish writing this in a Cedar Rapids park a teenager walks up carrying a big tray and asks me if I want a slice of fresh pie. "Do you have rhubarb?" He doesn't but says he will be glad to go get me one. "Is your name Larry?", I ask. "No, Ben Geiger.", he replies. I guess that would have been way too over the top.

Ride on and do something nice for someone even if your name isn't Larry.

THERE'S NO WHINING ON RAGBRAI

But there might be a few teeny tiny exceptions.

1 It is 94F when you get in your tent at 9PM.
2. Thunderstorm hits at 9:15 with 40mph winds. Driving rain crushes tents.
3. Camp portable toilets topple in the wind.
4. Screams emanate from general vicinity of toilet area.
5. Police cruiser drives into park announcing "SEEK SHELTER, SEEK SHELTER" and then speeds away as over 200 riders run from their tents and try to get in his backseat after realizing there's no shelter in this park.

It was a long, long night. But I didn't whine. I was too busy hanging on to my air mattress promising to be good for a long, long time.

Ride on and promise to be good.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

ROUGH RIDE IN IOWA

It is 104F in the Iowa shade, if you can find any. That means the temp out on the roads (asphalt with no shade at all) is 120. Six of our 70 riders have thrown in a sweaty towel and left the ride. Two others have spent an overnight in the hospital and one (me) was in the ER for about three hours. Heat related all.

In past years nine-passenger vans filled in as sag wagons. They pull trailers that can hold a dozen bikes. If the the riders are small or willing to sit in laps the sag drivers can cram 12 riders into the vans.

Today, Wednesday, so many riders are dropping out that yellow school busses are replacing the nine passenger vans. Instead of bike trailers at least one 53 foot semi has been pressed into service to haul the bikes to the overnight town.

All in all, a rough day to ride in Iowa.

THAT FUNNY FEELING

You know that funny feeling. Something is not right but can't quite figure out what it is? I had that feeling twice Monday morning. The first time was when I put my bicycle shorts on backwards. It was pitch dark when I got dressed and I didn't want to light up my tent. I kept wanting to sit on my bike facing backwards.

After I turned my shorts around I rode 12 miles to Aurelia for a big plate of Chris Cakes, an Iowa favorite of mine. I felt fine but the moment I swung off my saddle I boinked. That word isn't in my dictionary but it means listless, weak, dizzy and otherwise not fit to crank out another five miles.

Thus boinked I walked slowly to the EMT's at the Aurelia fire house. A blood pressure, a glucose test and an oximeter reading later I was in an ambulance headed to a nearby hospital.

My ride partner and pastor, Fr. Pat Connell, called my wife and told her not to worry. How do you say that and not worry someone?

Two hours later I was discharged with a diagnosis of Inadequate electrolytes and fluids which caused a drop in blood pressure and some irregular heartbeat.

I knew better. Last year on RAGBRAI I drank a bottle of G2 ever hour I rode. Not this year. I cheated. I figured I could get some G2 later, drink some more water later. Actually the ER doc said water wouldn't have done much good. I needed the blue, red, yellow or azure stuff. Don't Like the taste? Tough. Cowboy (or girl) up and drink your electrolytes. No rhubarb pie until you finish your azure stuff.

Don't like rhubarb pie? There's some obscure RAGBRAI rule you have at least one slice. I love it.

Drink and Roll on.