Ride # 15: Shad Dart on a Gray Landscape

February 27, 3:00 PM

The ride is over now, I've done this one, it's in the books and on Shad Rides. I'm sitting at a kitchen table, quiet in the aftermath of dinner, listening to a live Dead show from the Pauley Pavillion at UCLA, November 17, 1973.

It was mostly overcast today, raw, gray. Between 1:00 and 2:00 snow flurries drifted through. The sun pulsed faintly from behind the gauze. For a brief few minutes just as I was about to launch the sun came out and shone like an omen of encouragement (above). Then it got swallowed up again for most of the rest of the ride. Swathes of flat grays and ashy creams. Dull gray puff skies. Crusty old snow pack like concrete. Dirty white crust across a rolling landscape into Lancaster, the Drumlin, the Princeton Hills, Lemonstar.

The Drumlin, Lancaster

At a certain point, cognizant of my hyper glowing limon neon top, I thought to myself - My god! I am a shad dart in an icy & clear water river and I'm being reeled along in a jagged fashion by a madman with a rod and reel and everything is basically tones of black & white, yet I am a neon abomination darting and flying through the sameness.

Shaddy Shad Dart

Of course, visibility is the key to continuing on with life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. At least in amateur cycling. At one point tonight I should have turned right, essentially rounding the corner of the ride and pointing it homeward. I would have gotten home with plenty of light.

But training for the Rasputitsa is not about getting home with plenty of light

I opted for more climbing and a further loop. The cloudy over cover made it darker than it should have been and the yeasty flat sun sinking ever lower couldn't quite make it bright anymore and after a certain point I was psyched to have my flashing red tail light, my maniacally flashing rear helmet light, and my icy blue/white face-forward handlebar light. With all the blinking and flashing and the eye-popping limon top I felt pretty safe. Only a karma shot for transgressions unknown could derail the last leg of the ride, the dash down out of the hills and through the Grove St neighborhood and past Doyle Field to Shad Lane and the home hearth.

Back Before Dark

In the long run, I was right in my choices. Even my garb. I added in a layer of old school duofold underwear and also slid a paper bag in place. Donned a skull cap, a head & face mask, and a bandanna. And a helmet. Not too bulky at all. A pulsing limon-glowing wheelmon of the irie forward motion. It was 30 degrees (-1 C) when I passed Landmark Storage on my way through the Lemonstar 'hood and it was 24.6 (-4.1 C) when I got home. Crisp, righteous, a joy. I was almost overdressed. Never once cold. Positively Icelandic. Which is to say embracing the elements, a celebration of the Great Gift.

And then there was the business of dinner. Knowing I'd be hungry when I got back I'd thawed a package of beef liver that I scored for free last week when picking up the monthly meat & poultry CSA share. There are always free frozen parts available including (I found out this time) whole lamb's heads. I hear that the cheek meat is excellent - succulent cheek meat of the roasted head. But that's getting ahead of the story of ride # 15.

Tonight, a simple cast iron skillet dish done on the grill.

sliced onions & red peppers (olive oil'd)
slices of beef liver each the size of two shad darts end to end
three cloves of garlic chopped roughly
lots of paprika (smoked or sweet or both)
sea salt
pepper ground like dirt
bacon grease

Beef liver from John Crow Farm, before being sliced

Spice the ingredients accordingly. Fire up a hot grill. Put the cast iron skillet on it and get it hot. Add onions and peppers. 7 minutes, stirring plenty. Remove the onions and peppers from the skillet and add the liver. Cook 30-45 seconds on one side. Tend it closely. With tongs flip each piece. Don't overcook. Know the liver.

Added to the overall Platter of Plenty, crispy pan sauteed chickpeas and sauteed crimini and shitake mushrooms.

Sauteed mushrooms, crisped chickpeas,
beef liver with red pepper and onions

 The Reward

Ride Stats: 25.75 miles (41k), 13.3 mph, almost 2 hours riding. Felt great. Power in the climbs toward the end. But extremely cautious on all down hills and at any hint or suggestion of frozen wet surface. Careful and fearful of the white line.

Now the Bad News. Road kill. Another opossum. WARNING: Grisly crime scene photos below.

Opossum, Sterling, MA Feb 27, 2014

Opossum, Sterling, MA Feb 27, 2014

Ride # 14: Back in the Saddle

February 22, 2014

After the storms and ravaging of the past eight days, finally a break. Three successive days with the temperatures above freezing. The accumulated snow has begun receding. Everything is softer, sloppier. Leave home at 47 degrees and get back three hours later and the temperature has gone up to 49.

Blue jays, crows, robins (lots), a mockingbird, two raptors in trees, sparrows, juncos, a pair of cardinals.

There's still a lot of snow and today a lot melted and slopped up the roads but the plastic bag butt protector continues to work well.

Lemonstar - Lunenburg - Shirley - Groton - Devens - Lancaster - Princeton - Sterling - Lemonstar

Ride Stats: 43.68 miles (70k), 14.4 mph, just about 3 hours a-pedal. 147 lbs even this morning.

Roadkill: One opossum. Also found one blown-down wasp nest.

Some more photos from Sunday's 43+ mile jaunt. Great getting back to pedaling. Rolling across the landscape, huffing the air, sniffing the breezes, daydreaming about the way things really are.

The Lay of the Winter Land

Intersection on Devens

I happened upon a wasp nest that had fallen, not altogether whole, into the street where the above photo was taken. I actually passed it on the first go and then turned around and went back and picked it up. There wasn't much left but I loved it nonetheless.

Wasp Nest for the Love of Bruegel

The Shad Man in High Vis neon, keeping it safe and irie.

Taking Stock

Nor'easter!

Yes, it is February in New England.

Another day, another snow storm. I'm not sure even a Fat Bike would be of much use in this snowmageddon.

Today's nor'easter (raging as I type this) will certainly dump a foot of snow on us, possibly more. Ugly business.

Nor'easter Style
February 13, 2014

So how many days will it be before I can ride again?

The positive thing is that the days are getting longer, inexorably so. The rotation of the earth is in Shad's favor, even if winter itself conspires to defeat my training.

Ride # 13: Cold and Sunny

February 11, 2014, about 1:30 PM

Cold and sunny, that was today's ramble. Clean, sharp, clear. 28 degrees (-2 C) when I left around 1:45 in the afternoon and 25 (-3 C) when I got back. No cloud cover today excepting the occasional drifting puff smear of a cloud. But even though the sun is strong there is little melting. What spots that normally get enough sun to melt did so yesterday so that today the roads are mostly dry. Except for those patches where the sun doesn't strike at all and, in the Princeton hills, that meant patches of packed snow covering the pavement.

Indeed, the hill roads were iffy. Hobbs Rd in Princeton, a short but vicious incline, is not blessed by sunlight. I included it in today's ride as a descent. Snowy, slushy, at points wet or possibly icy, I couldn't tell. I had to inch my way down, hands clamping the brakes tightly. At one point, I un-clipped my left foot to steady myself in the event my wheels skidded out from underneath. I could never have ridden up it.

But excepting a few of the steepest and westernmost roads, the surfaces were good. Just winter, that's all. Nice and frigid. We haven't had temps above freezing for a week now. And I don't really mind it. I conjure the feeling of enthusiasm for the cold that Iceland imbued in me, an awed attachment to the semi-darkness, to the crunchy snow underfoot and the ice-covered sidewalks and roads. Winter makes the skin hum and the eyes twinkle.

Shadows of the Dub

And today I felt strong. Great night's sleep last night, eating well, weighed in at 145 lbs this morning. I am a little concerned that, though I'm at a lightness plateau poundage-wise, I could be stronger. Perhaps I should be thinking about trying to add 5-10 lbs of muscle mass. My hips could use some strength as could my hands, my shoulders, my forearms. Nevertheless, I was able to sit and pedal strongly and without fatigue up some inclines that, at earlier times and when in poorer condition, I'd have to stand and hoof it. No struggle today.

Shad Lane

As usual, Shad Lane was about the worst road I went on all day. Though the above pic doesn't make that so clear, Shad Lane is consistently snow-covered and slushy, a neighborhood side street that gets intermittent attention from the DPW. It's positively Russian.

Ride Stats: 20.9 miles (32 k), 11.0 mph (had to take it seriously slow at a few places due to adverse road conditions), an hour and forty five minutes in the saddle.

No road kill. I saw a mockingbird come to light on a telephone wire and then immediately set off in pursuit of a robin that happened to be flying nearby.

Ride # 12: The Sun Gauze Days

February 8, 2014, around 12:30

Let's get the details over with quickly. Saturday. Sunny. Warming by the half hour. I rush into Wheel Works in Belmont and have them put on a new chain. Those guys are great. Big shout out to Scott. On the way to rt.2, stop at the Craft Beer Cellar in Belmont center for Belgian-style ales in the big bottles. Then drive home with urgency, passing slow Saturday drivers and trying not to let them annoy me. There's a ride to be had! New gloves! A new chain! The second ride on my new rear tire! And it's February - there's a foot of snow on the ground. Allez!

That's the stage.

Still Sunny At the Start

Road pedal imaginings. An imitation Harry Crosby diary entry, Shadows of the Sun.

The Sun Gauze Days

And the pattern has been that the Sun shines in the morning and in the early afternoon the Sun Gauze rolls in from the west. The high, flat, gray-white cottony enmeshing of the Sun; the thickness of atmospheric pillow. And I have set out with High hope for a fine ride and the roads are dry but streaked with salt and narrow and the inevitability of cars accompanies me. I am in stride. I am accompanied by the Sun. And I am warm and dry and my mind is comforted by the rhythm of the wheels and my thighs are strong and I have reason to believe that I am capable of bicycling excess.

This is how one must approach the Cosmos, with humble intentions, with delicate balance, with certainty of the Sun. The train rolls into Terrapin Station and off it goes again. And half way through the ride (which hovered around the freezing mark) I began to think of the Belgian ale and I began to think of the herb-crusted pork loin and the garlicy-spinach, and I thought of Popeye and Olive Oil and the Great Meditational Herb of Plenty and I took solace from these thoughts and pushed my thighs and calves and shoulders on to greater effort and the road obliged and unspooled before me sometimes damp sometimes sand-strewn sometimes pot-holed and frost-heaved but always Onward just as I remain on a trajectory to the Sun.

Ride Stats: 34 miles (54k), 14.2 mph, 2 hours 25 mi-newt-os.

Wildlife Notes: In Shirley, just passed the President Building, I take a right onto Catacunemaug RD and shortly thereafter ride alongside a wide slow-moving creek tucked into the base of a sheltering ridge line. For whatever reason, that spot's prevailing micro-climate ensures open water for the hundreds of mallard ducks that have gathered there. They are a prodigious sight. A short while later I hear squawks overhead and look up in time to see another six ducks coming in to join the gathering. A Colloquy of Ducks.

Elsewhere, robins. It seems that they've all chosen to over winter here. On every ride I see them by the flocks. Today, for example, one flock I saw had congregated in two cheery trees on a suburban front yard. On the white snow in a concentric ring around each tree lay the detritus of their cherry foraging, the stems and pits and little broken branches, a scattered Zen-like rim of discard.

No road kill espied.

Addendum

Lemonstar - Lunenberg - Shirley - Groton - Ayer - Devens - Shirley - Lunenberg - Lemonstar

Riding from Groton toward Ayer, the road descends alongside wide open pasture, the view across which runs away to the west and unveils Mount Wachusett on the horizon. This is the view from the farthest point of this ride's wide circle.

Mount Wachusett  from 30 Miles Away
Not Going There Today

Shad Rides

OM AH HUM

~ With the gratitude of Niceness and the honor of Moment. Inity in a dichotomous world. ~ 

Not Today

February 5, 2014, around 3:00 PM

The predicted storm showed up. Lemonstar got 10 inches of powdery snow. It snowed all day. By nightfall it was all but over. All that was left was the clean-up.

The next two days are supposed to be clear, cold, bright. Is a ride in the offing? Snowy roadsides, hidden patches of the fabled "black ice." Danger! Beware! Be afraid! Don't ride!

And yet eleven rides already this year. OM AH HUM the balance and the gift of health. But there's a challenge there too. There's a slender little Belgian cyclist on my shoulder shouting encouragement in my ear. He's urging me to stay lean, to ride in all conditions, to think of the pavé.

I take this as a personal challenge.

Today's workout was all upper body. Two decks to shovel off, two walks, a few connecting paths, then some snow-blowing (driveway, city sidewalk). A few hundred calories I'm sure. Not a Sholan Loop but at least it's the body in action. Tonight, shoulders and back resonate with  the day's effort.

But I'm thinking about yesterday and am thinking about paper wasp nests. You know the kind, those big gray blobs hanging from a tree branch. I always associate them with Bruegel. They appear in his paintings, I think. They're like a medieval rugby ball stuck in a tree, a surreal orb of the Underworld.

I saw one yesterday. It had been blown apart by the elements, by time. It hung with dignity but without usefulness.

Ragged Wasp Nest

Isn't that the fear we all face? To be dignified but useless? Or worse. To be useless and without dignity? Sigh. That raspy wasp nest swaying in the February dusk. The reluctance of my quads on the next significant climb reminded me to power through their complaints. Tired legs, after all, an absurdity when faced with the impermanence of wasp nests. Those shredded paper walls, those exposed chambers of the next generation. Who will survive to sting the apple picker next autumn?

Looking Down the Great Expanse of Tuttle Rd, Lemonstar
February 4, 2014

Ride # 11: Between Storms

February 4, 2014, about 3:00 PM

It snowed yesterday afternoon and into the evening, but not too much accumulated. Maybe an inch. It's going to snow tonight and continue into tomorrow, possibly as much as a foot of snow, a pretty serious dumping apparently. That's the way of things in New England.

But this afternoon, after the sun had been out for hours, after the temperature had climbed above freezing and the residual snow had melted off the slate roofs, after the roads had turned to slush or dried out altogether, it occurred to me that I could actually ride today. That caught me by surprise. But I had to act quickly, it was already almost 3:00.

The good thing is, getting dressed is now a quicker endeavor since splurging on some top quality winter cycling garb. I'm ready to go in 15 minutes.

Still, I left later than I'd hoped. That proved too bad because the conditions were really good - empty roads, snowy forests, crisp air - and I felt great and would have turned out a big ride had dusk not been a factor. I could only ride so far before the waning of the light. And with the sandy tarmac, threats of ice and snow patches, and areas of dampness, extra caution was in order and that slowed my speed down considerably.

But that was fine. After all, I was riding! For the third time in February! Frost heave tarmac and snow terrain, the sloped hillsides visible through the barren tree trunks. Pine trees, dark green, edging the town reservoir's snowy-faced expanse. This was joy unexpected.

Joy Unexpected

Conditions were bad enough to be rugged, to remind me that I was riding a bicycle through the snowy Princeton and Lemonstar hills, but not bad enough to be truly dangerous. As always on the hilly roads that comprise a Sholan Loop, there were few cars. Mostly I had the silent sloppy roads to myself. If I had to move to the center of the road to avoid a blown-across-the-road snow patch, not a problem. Even when a car approached from behind, rare was another car oncoming today (this actually runs counter to my usual experience which is that you can be riding along for five ten fifteen minutes and encounter no cars from either direction and then one comes from ahead and one comes from behind and we all three coalesce at exactly the same time, it's weird).

15 Hours After the Last Storm and 12 Hours Before the Next

In short, today's ride was superb. I could have ridden another hour easily. These are all excellent training rides, albeit shorter than I'd like. The Rasputitsa is 47 miles; we did 42 (half in the rain) on Sunday and I felt good the whole way. The key is building on the conditioning I already have this early into the new year. I fret about it. Not the discipline aspect of it but the weather. I dread going a week or more without getting in a ride. Given the two impending storms (the aforementioned one this evening, and a possible Nor'easter this coming weekend), I can't help but wonder when I'll be able to ride again.

Now that I have all the necessary gear (except dedicated rain garb) to meet most conditions, I decided that only a few natural impediments could be legitimate reasons not to ride:

* steady rain/snow/sleet/hail
* single digit temperatures
* darkness
* post-storm road conditions (snowy, icy, soaked)

Otherwise? Sure there are all kinds of socio-cultural deterrents but the point is that unless I'm foiled by natural causes, I can choose to ride. Today the choice was easy.

The Reward for Getting Out There

Ride Stats: 19.42 miles (31k), 13.3 mph, about one hour and twenty-seven minutes en bicyclette. Temperatures were upper 30s when I left but right around freezing when I got back. 147 lbs this morning. Saw one big hawk fly closely overhead.

Ride # 10: Hard Core

Leverett Coop Parking Lot, the Meeting Grounds
February 2, 2014

Super Bowl Sunday. The Virginian, Monsieur Rogue, and I agreed to meet at the Leverett Coop at 11:00. We are, collectively, Team Green, or perhaps Team Rasputin; we are all three registered for the Rasputitsa. We thought we'd get out and get some miles under our wheels; after all, the forecast was for mild temps and mostly dry. Perfect.

And it was mild. And milder still down in Sunderland, Hadley, and Hatfield along the Connecticut River. Everything looked like Flanders from 1916. We were wheel men out of time.

Sunderland, MA

This was M. Rouge's second ride of the year; the Virginian's 6th and my 10th. We were ready for a long meander.

Hatfield, MA

And all would have been fine had the predicted rain showers held off until later. They didn't. We crossed the Connecticut into Hatfield then into Whately and headed north. We were a little more than half way through when I felt the first vague drops. Oy. And it rained the rest of the way; at first only slightly but eventually more or less steadily.

Dubstoevsky, Deerfield, MA

At one point we came to the huge pasture in Deerfield that's the start & finish of the D2R2 and decided to honor the spot by taking team portraits.

Where the D2R2 Starts

Monsieur Rogue

The Virginian

Ride Stats: 42.18 miles (68k), 14.6 mph. almost three hours in the saddle. Low 40s temps, high thirties when we got back. Overcast, then rain.

Ride # 9: Above Freezing

February 1, 2014

Saturday. The first day of February. It's a good day. Above freezing from start to finish.

Drive to Alewife Whole Foods, then the Craft Beer Cellar in Belmont. Score more Rasputin Imperial Stout. Then to Wheel Works.

After years of cobbling together winter riding garb (see Layers), I resolve to buy suitable contemporary cold weather apparel. I do. Gore-Tex booties. A body hugging under layer, sheeny and effective; a long-sleeved fleece/nylon full zip-up jersey; a high visibility neon yellow/green windbreaker vest; a slim but hefty and well-pocketed riding jacket of weight and warmth and versatility, it's high visibility lime /yellow green too.

I also bought a NEW TIRE, a Michelin.

At home in the basement, the Crux looked like it needed some attention so I attended to it. I changed out the old tire for the new; I cleaned the chain and chain rings; I wiped down the frame; I breathed like a dragon on the handle bars.

By the time I got underway the sky had begun to gauze over, the sun had begun to relinquish its command of the landscape.

It mattered not in the long run. The temperature was 49 degrees (9 C) when I set out. And was the same when I returned. A break from the Polar blast. A gauzy afternoon.

Gleason Rd, Princeton, MA

It's all gauze, it seems. A moping sun behind a veil of rue. Every afternoon in January and February oozes grays and ash blues, dirty ice whites, cruddy slush, sand bars.

It's Not Obvious, Which Way to Go

That's New England. I read just now that storms approach this week. So be it. This is February. This month will cudgel us once or twice, and then it'll be March. And all March's frustrations. But after March the rest is inevitable.

Today, robins in abundance. A crow. Sparrows at a farm house feeder.

Ride Stats: 22.09 miles (35k), 13.6, 1H 41M or so. Almost tipped 50 degrees with the early sun; I rode later, 2:00 PM; the over-cloud flooded in and the temperature dropped, though only to the low 40's. Pretty mild over all.