Tour de la Campagne--Stage 2

Thursday, July 5

6h45: I am amazed that I’m awake now. I set my alarm for 7am, and I figured I’d have to drag my ass out of bed. Instead, I’m totally up and ready to go.

I’m not as sore now as I was at the end of the day yesterday. There are several reasons for this, I think. One was the long, hot shower I took after I got here. Just being able to warm up after having been cold and wet on the road for so long did a lot to relax me. Another was the walk I took to go down to find something to eat (there’s a nice little eatery tucked away behind the man on the bench). It helped to loosen up those parts of my body that were all tight from the ride. Then there were the nachos. Can I just say that there is nothing like the perfect food to satisfy a craving when you are ravenous? The nachos came on a plate the size of my bike piled high with chicken, beans, veggies and cheese. I could have done without the cheese, but I was in no mental state to pick it off just to save a few calories. I know I’ll burn through them today. Finally, a little Advil® took the edge off and allowed me to sleep after I’d done some chores.

I made it back to my hotel room with plenty of food for today’s ride, and I set straight away to trying to fit it into the limited space I have in my pack. It helps that I have pockets in the back of my jersey. There are three big pockets back there that can hold a lot of stuff. I keep my mp3 player in the center pocket, along with my phone (when I need to have it out). I put my maps, in the one on my left, where I can get at them most easily. The one on the right holds Power Bars and my handkerchief.

Everything fits where it needs to, but the pack is now heavier than it was yesterday. I decide not to wear it on my waist today, but to attach it to the aero bars on the front of my bike. I’ve experimented with this during training rides. I know it fits there, but this is not an ideal situation. If the pack is not on my body, it won’t put pressure on my hips and back, but I lose the ability to use my aero bars as a result. It’s not what you think. I do use the bars to tuck in and reduce wind resistance when I’m moving fast (an example of this is at right), but they are far more important to me as pain relief. I rely on them to take pressure off my upper back, shoulders and arms when they get tired, and to allow my body to shift in the saddle (you sit on different parts in a tuck than you do otherwise). Not being able to use them means that I will not be able to shift around as much, and I will get sore faster. It’s a decision based on how my hips and lower back feel today. The Advil helped last night, but I can really feel the pain deep this morning. I’m reluctant to abuse them more at such an early point in the journey. I’ll take the chance that my upper body will absorb everything, and the lower parts will appreciate the day’s rest.

Before I went to bed, I repaired the puncture in the tube I replaced. It took 10 minutes and I did it while watching fireworks on TV (sadly, there were none to be seen locally because of the rain). I also made sure my clothes--all of them--were well on the way to drying. My shorts, especially, need to be dry. Riding shorts that are wet on the inside will chafe instantly, no matter what creams you put on your parts.

8h30: It’s still raining as I head down to avail myself of some continental breakfast. The Weather Channel says it’s supposed to clear up soon. I think I’ll wait a bit, to see if it does. While I’m waiting, I’ll share with you some photos of Great Barrington.



This is the road into town. This picture is not noteworthy for anything except to show you the road shoulder. It looks nice and wide, doesn’t it? Wide enough for a car to pass a bike? I thought so, too. Then why did the driver last night whiz by me so close I could have touched him and HONK HIS HORN?

Road riding is filled with stuff like that. Drivers in this country simply don’t have an understanding of what that kind of behavior does to cyclists. I consider myself a veteran cyclist, but when someone blows their horn right next to me as they pass, I goddamn near jump out of my skin. I know less experienced cyclists who have crashed as a result of such things. Somewhere along the line, drivers have forgotten (did they ever learn it?) that they must have respect and attention for everything and everyone around them. We need to start educating people to do better. I am writing this to encourage you to spread the word, and to act by example. Give cyclists (and everyone else on the roads) space and lay off the fucking horn!

To be fair, it’s not all the fault of drivers. Cyclists, too, have forgotten their own obligations to road safety. I see cyclists routinely riding against the flow of traffic or darting across streets, not signalling or stopping at lights and not looking to see what cars are doing. I say it to you now: If you are riding a bicycle, you will lose every interaction you have with a car. Your best defense, your only defense, is to be as predictable as possible. Obey the rules of the road, and teach others by example.


This next photo (above) is for Fran. It’s St. James Episcopal Church, named (I must assume) for the same saint as the Episcopal church in my town. It’s quite majestic, and I thought I would share it with her because she likes beautiful buildings.

The photo below demonstrates what my pack looks like when installed on top of my aero bars. Can you see why I chose to put it there? It’s heavier than it looks. The gallery I’m parked in front of had some nice pieces on the walls. Mostly modern and probably overpriced, but nice to look at.



...

8h30: The rain has stopped. I decide to head out after a short walk to loosen up my muscles. I’ve had breakfast: A bagel with cream cheese, a banana and Gatorade. I know. It’s not my first choice either. The thing about Gatorade, though, is that it does an excellent job of replacing electrolytes lost through sweat. I need to replenish them regularly if I’m to avoid exhaustion or, worse, heat stroke. This wasn’t an issue yesterday, but it will definitely come into play as the temperature rises today and the sun breaks through the clouds.

I mount up and set off. It takes a minute for my legs to quit snivelling, but soon my cadence is up and I’m cruising along quite nicely. The roads are wet at first, but they dry quickly so I’m able to take advantage of the generally downhill grade of the road. Simply Red is playing on my mp3 player. It’s an exquisite morning!

...

9h05 (9 miles/42km//81 miles/142km total): I stop at the top of this hill to take things in for a moment. You can’t see it in the photo, but the fog disappears just off the top edge to reveal a mountain that pokes up another 500 ft/150m. The air is cool and heavy. There’s only the smallest hint of a breeze, but there is the promise of warmth held in it. The trees and plants along the edge of the road give off a cacophony of sweet and earthy smells, but there’s also the weighty aroma of asphalt serving as an undertone. The birds are busy chirping and calling back and forth, and something small is scurrying about just out of view in the underbrush. There’s a truck rumbling up the hill behind me, it’s engine bearing down as it sets to pushing its payload up the incline.

I wait for it to pass before setting off. A truck is broad and boxy, and is an excellent windbreak. If I stay about a car length behind it and just off to its side as it goes down the hill, I will get pulled along by the wake it produces in the air. This process, called drafting, is a great way to conserve effort because it removes the single biggest contributing factor to work in distance cycling: Wind resistance. The more you can make air work for you, the less you have to work to move the bike forward. It sort of works like surfing. If you can catch the wave just right, you can go a long way. Unfortunately, trucks go much faster down hills than bicycles, even racing bicycles, can so it’s not possible to draft for long. Even so, I’ll take every bit of help I can get.

As it turns out, I don’t make it down to the bottom of this hill before I see this sign.



I decide to stop and have the bike strike a pose. One state down, two to go.

...

9h25 (12 miles/19km//84 miles/135km total): My planned route takes me along a country road shortcut around the town of Hillsdale (in the distance in the photo, left). I debated whether to do this because one can never know what the road will be like. It could be really hilly, or the pavement could turn to dirt or be of a condition that otherwise makes it not suitable for skinny road bike tires. This choice turned out to be a great one. The road was in great condition, and it was quiet. There were beautiful farms along it and the views, as you can see from the photo, were were truly eye-catching. Relegated to the position of “nice afterthought” was the fact that this shortcut shaved two miles off my trip.

...

9h50 (16 miles/26km//88 miles/142km total): I make my next scheduled stop here, at the town of Copake. Please note the quaint clock located at the main intersection. I’m making decent time. If the roads stay as they are, I could be in Kingston by 2pm. That’d be nice! I’d have time to go exploring. After all, I’ve never been to Kingston. It might be a wonderful place!

...

10h15 (19 miles/31km//91 miles/147km total): I left Copake about 10 minutes ago, but forgot to look for a bathroom. It always pays to take the call to nature when you’re cycling because you never know how you’ll deal with it if you’re on the road when she calls. I’m faced with such a problem now. It’s not that I mind doing my business in the trees. It’s that there is no guarantee that one will find any that aren’t part of someone’s front yard. And let’s take a moment to remind everyone of an essential piece of wisdom from the saddle of distance cyclists everywhere: Bring your own tp. You will never regret the small amount of space it takes up.

Hey! There are some trees over there!



...

11h30 (30 miles/48km//102 miles/164km total: I almost missed this turn. The sign was partially hidden, as you can see, and I was looking down when I came upon it. Had I not looked up and seen that there was another sign facing the turn, I would have blown right by it. A lucky break! Speaking of breaks, I should take one. It’s about time for lunch.

...






13h20 (46 miles/74km//118 miles/190km total): I’ve pedaled straight since lunch and moved along at a nice, sibilant clip. The wind has picked up (see flag, right), but heavy traffic has helped mitigate that somewhat. I stop at the top of the Kingston Bridge to snap this pic (below, left). That’s the Hudson River. I’ve made it to the Hudson, people! I’m feeling pretty proud of myself right about now, then I remember that I haven’t been able to check in with Suzanne since noon. We had standing plans for me to call at 12pm and at 7pm, just to confirm I’m ok. There’s a reason behind this that some of you know. Perhaps I’ll post it sometime. Anyway, I tried calling her when I stopped for lunch, but there was no signal. I have tried every 5 miles or so after that, but with no better luck. It’s 1h30 now, and she’s probably freaking out. I’ll scoot to the other side of the river and try again from there. There’s a little rest area I can get to, I think. Before I go, though, I want to show you these mountains (below). Can you see them there in the distance? Yeah, those. That’s tomorrow’s fun. I ride right into those. Nice!

...

13:40 (not much farther than last time): I’ve arrived in Kingston, but I have to stop to deal with this.

Does everyone remember what this is a picture of? See Stage 1 for the answer. This time, it’s on the back tire. This is a bigger pain than simply changing the front because it’s greasier, but also because remounting the tire requires stretching the frame a little. This is a job that properly requires three hands, but I’m able to do it with two and several choice words to the cycling gods. I was fortunate that this happened in front a beautiful house with a small bench in the front yard. I was able to sit quite comfortably in the shade while I worked! I left the homeowners a small note of thanks.

I have a listing of cycle shops in the area, and one is supposed to be right close by. I think I’ll head over there to see if I can get another new tube. I’ve used the one new spare I brought with me, but with this flat, I’ll only have patched tires. These are perfectly good, you should understand, but I’d just feel more comfortable knowing I had an unrepaired safety net.

...

15h45 (61 miles/98km//143 miles/230km total): I rode over to where the bike shop was supposed to be, but it appears that they’re now a bunch of Asian women doing manicures and tanning. Who’d have guessed? I wonder for a second if I should work on my rather stark tan lines, since I’m here. I’ll never be able to wear sandals or sleeveless shirts until they fade, otherwise!

The tanning bed rejected, I head to the Sky Top motel, just west of town. It’s name, apparently, comes from its location at the top of this extreme hill (see right). The photo does not do this climb justice. It’s straight up! Just what I need at the end of a day’s ride.

After I check in and do laundry (see Stage 1), I get into street clothes to search for provisions and find pasta. I noticed as I was climbing up to the motel that the clouds coming over the mountains to the west were looking dark and ominous. I’m glad I beat them!
I’m sitting at a country diner enjoying a heaping bowl of linguine augustino as the clouds let loose. Again, the picture doesn’t quite do this torrent justice. The wind is howling outside and the rain is going horizontal. I’ll have to walk home in that eventually, but that’s much better than having to ride in it. I’ll just linger over this pasta a while, maybe get some dessert, too. I left my raincoat strapped to my pack. Does anyone here have an umbrella? How about a large garbage bag?

Tour de la Campagne--Prologue and Stage 1

Prologue—Tuesday, July 3

I’m a little nervous, but only because I’m itching to get on the road. I finished my last training ride Sunday (a 35-mile trip into the Berkshires to practice hill climbing techniques), and now I’m resting my muscles. I don’t like the resting, but it is a necessary part of the preparation. There’s nothing to gain, and everything to lose, from training right before a long ride, but it screws with my metabolism. It’s like getting all wound up, but not releasing the tension. Still, I’d rather be antsy than injured.

My girls really get a kick out of their papa going cycling. Nieve thinks I look cool in my cycling shorts and jersey (ever the fashionista, that one) and SiSi likes to watch me do my pre-ride prep (put gear on the bike, get into my clothes, do equipment check, etc.) She gets very excited at the thought of riding her bike 400 miles (“when I get to be a bigger kid, right?”) I am excited at that thought, too, I guess. I haven’t challenged myself in this way in a very long time.

I’m really expecting to put myself to the test on this trip. It’s been a slow and laborious journey to get to a point of physical and mental fitness that will allow me to succeed, but whether it’s enough to do a trip like this, I just don’t know. I’m proud of how far I’ve come, though. Since Christmas, I’ve ridden over 800 miles in preparation for this trip. I’ve run, walked and lifted weights consistently as well, and I am finally beginning to reverse the effects of nearly fifteen years of bad diet and a less-than-active lifestyle. I’ve lost 30 pounds, which has been great, but I’m really more proud of the state of mind that has come from all that effort. For the first time in a very long while, I feel like I’m able to live a life that is nourishing to my body, mind and spirit. I’m feeling more powerful every day, too. I love that I’m beginning to remember what it feels like to run fast! Now that graduate school is done, I’m starting to feel alert and energetic, and not because of the coffee. Whether I end up completing this adventure or not, the yield from all this preparation will have been worth the effort.

I’ll be honest in saying that I don’t have any real expectations about my success. I could do very well (my training leaves me cautiously optimistic), but I’m not distressed by the possibility of failure. I’m doing this to find out what I’m capable of, not to have a particular result. Good adventures are much more about the journey than the destination, and this is no different. I just want to give the best I have to it, know inside that it really is the best I have, and see where that takes me. I wanted to do the same thing in graduate school, to demonstrate what my best really was. If it was good, then yay. If it wasn’t, at least I would know where I stood. It turns out people thought highly of my work, but that didn’t mean as much to me as the idea that *I* was proud of it. I have spent more time in my life than I have wanted on things that were less than true quality. On this effort, as with graduate school, I want to be able to say I did something I could be truly proud of.


Stage 1—Wednesday, July 4

It’s only 5:45am, but I’m up and futzing around putting things in order to leave. Yesterday, I packed all my gear, checked the bike over about 12 times and packed the bag that will go in the van, so I’ll have real clothes after the ride is done. I might look decent in bicycle shorts now, but they’re just not the kind of thing you wear around town all day.

OK. Everything’s ready. I’m ready. It’s all already ready, already! If it were just me here, I’d be on the road right now. I’d don my helmet, get saddled up take a deep, cleansing breath and, with no fanfare whatsoever, set out to do this thing. I’d do that if it were just me here, but it’s not. There is a house full of people that wants to see me off. I’m really flattered by the attention, and I’m grateful for their blessings, but it leaves me a little abashed. I’m not really good at accepting that kind of attention, and it’s a little unnerving to have everyone so interested in this trip. Maybe this means something to more than just me? Nah, probably it’s just curiosity. I can’t really think about that now, anyway. It’s too distracting, and I need to keep my head on what I know, not what might be.

I need to remind myself constantly that I know what I can do. I can climb hills. I can ride 75 miles, and more. I can handle the challenge of pushing myself beyond doubts and fears, misgivings and denials. I can live in the moment. I can keep a cool head in a crisis. I can read a map. I can read my body. I can totally. Fucking. Do this.

…

08h15: Finally, the rest of the house is up and I’m set to head out. I pick up my pack to put it on and I realize it’s heavier than I’ve trained with. It’s got some equipment I’ve added at the last minute and toiletries, so I sort of expected it to be, but I was imagining a few ounces, not what feels like pounds. Maybe it’s the extra food? Oh, well. It’s too late to deal with it now. I’ll have to work it out on the road. No problem, though. I can do this!

Caleb, Maeve and family come down to wish me luck, and the girls bring out their bikes as a show of support. There’s some chatting, a photo op with my groupies (right), and it’s time to go. The morning is sunny and cool, and there is a lightness to the air, despite the lingering humidity. It’s going to be a beautiful day to be on the road. I wave good-bye and pedal off.

The first 20 miles of this stage are familiar. I’ve ridden them numerous times and I allow myself to focus my attentions inward as I ride. How does everything feel? Are my muscles loosening up? Is anything rubbing that shouldn’t be? How’s my pacing? There are no issues, of course. Things are fine, so I just settle in and enjoy the experience. I come across a small group of women riders training for a triathlon, and we wish each other well. I also meet a woman out for a day ride on her mountain bike, and we chat about things for several miles before our paths diverge. By the time I stop at Haydenville an hour later to eat and apple and re-lube, I’m feeling really good about this trip. It’s only been 20 miles, but so far, so good!

…

10h15 (24 miles): The next hour takes me into new riding territory. I’ve never been on these roads before (the photo at left marks the farthest I've ever ridden) and it takes me a minute to find my way along the back roads I’ve marked on my map. I’m not taking bigger roads because, well, there aren’t any that go straight west. I have chosen to follow the older roads, the roads less travelled. They will take me into the heart of the Berkshires, where the first set of climbs awaits me. I’m not there yet, though. Right now, I have to figure out which of the innumerable forks in the road I’m supposed to take to get me there.

Why is it that in New England nothing is ever properly marked? I think it’s charming when I drive around my own part of the world, but when I’m trying to get somewhere on a bike (and trying not to be about it all day), it sure can be a pain in the patoot! I take one that felt like it was right (sometimes it just comes down to feel when the map doesn’t show what it should) and suddenly I’m cruising down this nice downhill. It makes me instantly nervous. I’m heading into the mountains. There’s not supposed to be a lot of downhill riding. I mean, if this turns out to be the wrong way, I’m going to have to climb back up to the top of this damn 2-mile hill!

…

12h45 (43 miles): The turn worked out, thank the gods! Now, I’m in the Berkshires, heading toward Blandford. I left Huntington just a while ago after a brief break for some water and grease up (see pic, at left). The climbs have become longer and much steeper. I’m standing in the pedals in places, and the weight of the pack pulls on my back and hips when I’m up out of the saddle. It is an accepted fact that, as you continue to ride, you get stronger and better able to climb hills without getting out of breath. That’ll be great in New York, but right now is when I need it. I’m getting my ass kicked a little, here! All the training I’ve put in and the first day’s ride is giving me trouble. How embarrassing. Good thing no one is around to see this.

I'm also glad no one was around to see this when it happened (see photo, at right). Why does the bike look like this, you ask? Well, the cause is a piece of glass this big--[]. That’s right. That's how big it was. My whole cycling life, I have never had a flat caused by glass. I have ridden over broken stuff more times than I can count. Never have I had one so much as scrape a tire. Now I'm sitting here at the bottom of a hill witha piece of glass you wouldn't notice if you stepped on it that has somehow managed to embed itself so deep in my tire that it punctured the tube. Unbelieveable! I won't take the time to repair the flat. I have a new tube in my pack, so I'll just use that. I can take time tonight to repair this one, and it'll be faster, easier and more comfortable that if I sat here.

The best way to find a puncture in a bike tube, if you never learned this during childhood, is to immerse the tube in water and look for the air bubbles. To do this on the side of the road is, to say the least, more irritating than to do it in the comfort of a hotel room with a sink. Also, the best way to repair said puncture is to buff the area, coat it with rubber cement and wait for it to dry before applying the patch, then put the . This doesn't take but a minute or so for a small hole like what I have, but I'd still rather do it while watching cable in a hotel room than I would sitting on a guard rail.

I set to work changing the tube. I'm pretty quick at it but, as I'm cleaning up and repacking things, I notice that it's starting to cloud over. I knew when I got up this morning there was was a chance of rain, but it’s looking pretty certain at this point that I’m going to get wet in a bit. Crap!

Riding in the rain sucks. It’s dangerous, too. The roads get slippery on skinny, smooth road tires and cars have a harder time reacting to cyclists because they can’t see them as well. I have reflectors and a light on the back, which help my visibility, but these roads are narrow and winding. I stop when the rain starts (in the middle of a climb—grrr!) so I can take off my sunglasses and stow the music. I brought my mp3 player with me on this trip. It has a radio, but it’s also loaded with 80’s hits! Just the thing to entertain while cruising along on a bike for 7 hours or more. I’ll need to be at my most alert right now, though, and that means making sure I can see and hear everything, even far away. It would not do to be in an accident on the first day, would it?

Now, to get back on the bike and get to the top of this hill…

…

14h55 (58 miles): Oh. My. God. I am so sore! I cannot believe how much it took out of me to get to this point. More than two hours to cover less than 15 miles?!?! Yes, it was all uphill at a nice 7-8% grade, but that was so much harder than it needed to be. And I still have another 10-15 miles to go. It’d better be all downhill from here…

…

16h55 (72 miles): I stopped in Monterey (61 miles, I forgot to take a picture), on the west side of the Berkshires, so I could get out of the saddle, stretch my legs and get a bite to eat. I was just too wiped from that climb to go much further, even though it turned out to be an easy ride. While I sat and ate my last apple and finished off a bag of pretzels, I had the chance to meet another cyclist on his way to Boston. He set out from Hyde Park this morning, and was looking to get as far as Springfield before it got too dark. We shared stories and advice while the rain clattered off the porch roof of the Monterey General Store (closed, according to the sign, so the proprietors could go see fireworks). It was just the thing I needed to remind me that I would get though the day. I wonder if there'll be fireworks tonight.

I tenderly mounted up again and finished the last 12 miles in good form. The rain even stopped just as I turned the corner to head into downtown Great Barrington. I checked in to the Day’s Inn, took a nice, long shower and washed out my riding clothes. This bit of laundry is a necessary ritual because dried sweat and salt can do awful things to lycra (in addition to making it smell horrendous). Apart from that, though, I had 20+ miles of road mud on everything, and I would never have been able to stand trying to put them on in the morning.

I’m in my spare set of clothes now, and I’m hungry enough to eat a horse. It’s only a short (rainy) walk to downtown from here. I’ll have to get provisions for tomorrow: Power Bars, pretzels, fruit and trail mix, as much as I can fit in my pack. Then I’m off to find some supper. I wonder if there’s a bar or a Mexican place. I’m feeling like nachos. A lot of nachos.

La Fête Nationale de la France (Bastille Day)

Aujourd’hui est associée au défilé militaire du 14 juillet qui remonte les Champs Elysées. C'est aussi une fête populaire avec l'organisation de bals et feux d'artifices, mais le 14 juillet est avant tout une fête républicaine symbole de liberté.

Le 14 juillet est la date symbolique du passage de la monarchie à la république. Dans les premiers moments avant la révolution française en 1789, une grande agitation régnait partout en France. Le Tiers État (les représentants de la bourgeoisie) se sont opposés au Roi de France Louis XVI et ses abuses. Ils ont voulu de la liberté, égalite et la création d'une constitution. Le Roi a été totalement opposé, alors les députés du Tiers État ont fait, le 20 juin 1789, le serment du Jeu de Paume de "ne jamais se séparer jusqu'à ce que la Constitution fût établie".

Le peuple était mécontent, le peuple avait faim, il s’est soulevé avec les députés du Tiers Etat et il a décidé de marcher sur la Bastille, prison d'État qui a symbolisé l'absolutisme et l'arbitraire de l'Ancien Régime. C'était cette prise de la Bastille qui a commencé la revolution. Dès lors, la prise de la Bastille symbolise pour tous les Français la liberté, la démocratie et la lutte contre toutes les formes d'oppression.

...and now, in English...

Today we associate July 14 with the military procession that marches down the Champs Elysées. It’s also a popular festival for organizing parties and fireworks, but July 14 is first and foremost a symbol of freedom throughout the Francophone world.

July 14 is the symbolic date of France’s passage from a monarchy to a republic. In the time immediately preceding the French revolution in 1789, a great tension pervaded all of France. The Third State (representatives of the middle-class) were opposed to King de France Louis XVI and his abuses. They wanted liberty, equality and the creation of a constitution. The king opposed this, so the deputies of the Third Estate made, on June 20, 1789, what we know as the Tennis Court Oath “never to separate until the Constitution was established”.

People were dissatisfied, people was hungry and they raised themselves up with the deputies of the Third State and decided to march on the Bastille, a State prison which symbolized the absolutism and the capricious nature of the old ways. It was this storming of the Bastille which began the revolution. Therefore, for the French the storming of the Bastille symbolizes freedom, democracy and the fight against all the forms of oppression.

Here’s some basic stuff to learn more about France and Bastille Day:

Bastille Day—Standard wikipedia information on (easy to read and to understand, I think) is available [HERE]

Déclaration des Droits de l'Homme et du Citoyen (the Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen)—One of the fundamental human rights documents, together with the Bills of Rights of both England and the United States, and also the more recent Universal Declaration of Human Rights adopted by the United Nations. Its text is originally in French, but an English translation may be read [HERE].

La Marseillaise—The French national anthem. Its lyrics in both French and English are [HERE].

La Marianne—Marianne, the national emblem of France, is a personification of the Republic, and holds a place of honor in many French monuments. A popular representation of her, by Eugène de la Croix, can be viewed [HERE].

The French Flag—The origins of le tricolore are said to be a rosette, which the king liked, that was created in July 1789 just at the start of the French Revolution. The combination of the colours, often credited to the Marquis de Lafayette (chief of the King’s Guard), is of the coat of arms of Paris (red and blue), symbolically separated by (some say surrounding) the royal colour, white.

I have just a moment to let you all know that I reached Lock Haven, PA, right in time for the bell tower to strike 12pm. It took six days and exactly 4oo miles to get there by bike , but I was not beaten by a single hill and there was no chafing (some mild bruising, muscle soreness, chapped lips and sunburn, but no chafing). I picked up my degree in person, and spent some time talking in person with my professors before my family met me right at the entrance to the university. I'll post details about the trip over the next several days (bear with me, please, because our next couple of stops are without WiFi). It was a lot of fun, and a great way to close out graduate school.

All my bags are packed...

Well, actually, it's only one bag. It is packed, though, and I'm saddling up in about half an hour. If all goes well, I'll be in Great Barrington in time for fireworks. The weather is cloudy and rain threatens, but the reports say I should be fine for most of the day. Who knows what tomorrow will bring. That's then, of course. Right now, it is a quiet summer morning and I'm enjoying a cup of coffee and a banana before I go. I'm obviously not taking a computer with me and we won't have WiFi in all the hotels where we'll be, so you may not hear from me a lot during the next 10 days (not that you've been hearing from me a lot lately, anyway). I'll be taking lots of notes and pics, so I can share the adventure with you when I get back. See you then!

Lock Haven 2007—The Route

Several people have asked me how I’m getting there, so here’s what I’ve planned.

Day 1: Wayfarer House, MA to Great Barrington, MA—65 miles (105km). The first half of this route I’ve travelled before, and it poses no special challenges. The second half has a long, but gradual climb into the Berkshires with some expected steeper climbs around the ski areas between Otis and Great Barrington. You’ll notice that there are not many roads on the map where I’ve drawn lines. That’s because most of them are tertiary roads. The thing about this part of the route is that there is not truly direct route from start to finish. All the good roads run north/south, so moving laterally requires using back roads, the quality of which are always in question. I know which roads to take down as far as Northampton (I can get to Gardner State Park on roads with decent asphalt), but I have no idea what the roads are like after that. The bike clubs here have very little intelligence on them, so I’m winging it a little. I’m staying right in downtown Great Barrington, which should afford easy access to fireworks and food in the evening.

Day 2: Great Barrington to Kingston, NY—50 miles (80km). This route is the shortest of the lot because the next day takes me through the Pokono mountain range, and I want my legs to be as fresh as they can be to climb those hills. My path takes me through mostly open farm country in upstate New York, where the hills roll gently and the views go for miles. There are only occasional towns along the route I’m following, so I’ll need to make sure I’m loaded well with food, and I’ll want to fill up with water every chance I get. The biggest challenge of this day’s ride comes once I reach Kingston. I have to cross the bridge to get over the Hudson. This section of road is not bike-friendly, so I have to be alert, and I have to negotiate a ramp exit so I can get to Rt 32, which takes me into town. That’s where the urban riding skills come into play. I investigated several options that would take me around Kingston, but none of them put me easily where I need to be on the other side of town, so I decided to just bite it and ride through. Even so, I can’t get to Rt. 28 directly. I have to skirt the center of town (the roads there are 4-lane, and bikes are prohibited) and ride side streets, zigging and zagging, until I come out past my hotel, then I have to backtrack a mile or so. If I have any mechanical issues, this is where I’ll solve them. There’s not another bike shop for two days.

Day 3: Kingston, NY to Hancock, NY—65 miles (105km). This is where the fun starts! I haven’t climbed serious hills in more than 15 years and, while I believe I am prepared for these, one never really knows until one gets to them just how the body will do. I’m going into this with very little advance information about elevation changes and road conditions, so it promises to be a day full of mystery and surprise. If it wants to rain a little on the uphill parts to keep things cool, that’d be ok. The route on this day takes me by several reservoirs (I even get to cross a dam), and the scenery is expected to be spectacular. This is also the day where my family catches up to me. We’re staying at a small hotel off my planned route by several miles. Whether I go to the hotel directly or wait for them in Hancock will depend on how I feel.

Day 4: Hancock, NY to Montrose, PA—55 miles (90km). As the crow flies, the distance between these towns is only about 32 miles (52km) but, as on Day 1, there’s no good direct route. I’ve been researching a possible shortcut, but I may end up just sticking to the established route. I’ll ask locals once I get some distance past Hancock. They can tell me if the side roads are asphalt and passable with a road bike. The mountains become hills again, and the ride should be smooth if my legs have survived the day before. This is a part of the world I have never even driven through, however, so I have no idea what the scenery will be like. The hotel is in Hallstead, about 10 miles off the path.

Day 5: Montrose, PA to Hillsgrove, PA—70 miles (115km). This is the longest, but supposedly smoothest, day of the trip. There are no major elevation changes, and the roads are expected to be good the whole way. I had hoped to do the distance from Montrose to Lock Haven in a single day, but that’s around 110 miles (175km) and I was not convinced I’d make it. I may go further than Hillsgrove, though, since it doesn’t really matter where I stop at this point. The hotel where we’ll be staying is in Williamsport, so my family can come pick me up and drop me off wherever I end up stopping.

Day 6: Hillsgrove, PA to Lock Haven, PA—45 miles (70km). The last day of riding is also the shortest. I’m hoping to get into Lock Haven early, so I can stop by the registrar’s office and pick up my diploma (yay!) and arrange to visit my professors. I also want to explore the campus a bit. Everything I’ve seen of Lock Haven suggests that it is a beautiful place! I really have no idea what I’ll do once I’ve met everyone and taken care of the actual business I have there. If I’ve actually ridden the distance, I may just stand there for a while and bask in the sense of accomplishment. Maybe I’ll go find a pipe shop (more on that in another post).

So, there it is! What do you think?

Get it all out now, please…

With my girls off at a friend’s house for a nice, long play date Friday, I decided to take the opportunity to get my miles in for the day (see #9 of the previous post). I had a nice 20-mile loop waiting for me, plenty of time to enjoy it and weather that was simply exquisite, especially for riding. I should have known it was too good to be true.

I don’t know what I hit. I went back to look for it, but it must have squirted out from the tire after I ran it over. I’m sure it was hard. It would have to be to take a bite out of my back rim like it did. It must also have been sharp, too, because it sliced a nice gash in the side of my tire and caused what can only be properly described as a “catastrophic flat”. A catastrophic flat is one that causes instant loss of pressure (otherwise known as "instaflat"), but which cannot be fixed on the road. This flat qualified not only because of the size of the holes, but the quantity of them, as well. There were 3 separate punctures--two “snake bite” holes from where the rim bit into the tube as it ran over the mystery object, and a nice ¾” gash from the mystery object itself. Coming on the heels of 2 separate trips to the bike shop during the past week, plus other repairs, this just seemed wholly unfair, but sitting there on the side of the road I was left to consider my options while appreciating the beautiful weather.

It is worth noting here that I did not have a spare tube on the bike at this moment. A catastrophic flat, therefore, usually means one of two things: I call for a ride or I walk. Well, as I sat there on the side of the road (enjoying said beautiful weather), I imagined myself on the road in New York with the same problem. It is certainly possible that the same thing could occur there (it has before, on other tours I’ve done). What would I do? Would I call for a ride? No. That would be admitting defeat.

I decided to see if I could actually fix the tatters of my inner tube and ride home. What the hell, I said. It’s a nice day, I said, and my children are being entertained. Plus, there was a nice mailbox there to lean against. I must have been in a good mental place. I’m not sure the situation warranted it, but I was actually enjoying the challenge of dealing with a normally impossible situation. Plus, did I say the weather was nice?

I got out my trusty patch kit and set to work. I proceeded slowly and carefully, the only way one can really patch a tire that has to hold 90psi for a dozen miles. I used all of the patches I had in my kit and the tube of rubber cement was toast by the end, some 45 minutes later. It took three tries to get it right, but the tire eventually held the air it needed. I put the rim back on the bike, adjusted things so that it would turn cleanly (I didn’t mention this before, but whatever I hit, in addition to shredding my tire, actually put the rim out of alignment enough that it rubbed against the frame) and made for home. I didn’t set any speed records, but the cell phone stayed in the pouch.

I picked the kids up and we headed to the bike shop yet again. A new tire and two tubes, please. $47? Charge it! I changed out the useless stuff for the new stuff while the kids played in the back yard, then spent 30 minutes realigning the wheel (it’s nice and straight now, thank you). Another 30 minutes to make some minor adjustments to the shifting mechanism (it was clicking in the high gears), and again, for the 4th time in two weeks, it was as good as new.

I’m going riding tomorrow to do some hill training. I’d like to think I’ve covered all the problems I’m likely to encounter on my trip. I’d like to think that, but I’ll pray to the cycling gods anyway before I head out. And I'll bring an extra tube.

13 for Thursday—Trip Prep (posted late)

Over the next several days, I’ll be putting things in order for my ride to Pennsylvania. I’m doing this trip on a road bike, not a touring bike, so there are different things to consider.

1. Make sure the bike is in good mechanical order. It’s had a number of upgrades over the last month (new bearing assembly, new rear rim, new rear gear cassette), so I’m feeling cautiously confident about this, but I am still breaking things in and there is always a period of fine-tuning that occurs. I’ll undoubtedly be fiddling with the new parts while on the road. The older parts of the bike are in solid working order, but will need to be tightened, lubricated or otherwise loved the day before I leave, just to make sure nothing falls off. It’s bad when things fall off the bike.

2. Check to see I have all the tools I need. I have learned from harsh experience not to go anywhere without certain tools on the bike: Spoke wrench, tire patch kit, pump, screwdriver, pliers, allen wrenches. I know all these are in the pouch now, but I’m going to add some other tools to the “sag bag” that Wifeness and Co. will bring with them in the van when they leave. I’m sure I’ll be able to survive with the minimum until they catch up to me, but I don’t want to have to go shopping for chain parts or rubber cement after having ridden 90 miles.

3. Is the pack packed? Apart from myself and the bike, everything I’ll need for this trip will fit on a medium-sized fanny pack. The trick is to make sure it’s all in there: 1 change of non-riding clothes (shorts, shirt, 2 pairs of socks), prescription glasses (in hard case), rain jacket, wet/dry shoes (so I can walk around—road cycling shoes are for riding, not walking), Advil (I’m not too proud to say I’ll need this), anti-chafing cream (there must be no chafing!), cable and lock (it would simply not do to have the bike stolen), deodorant, shampoo, toilet paper.

4. Peripherals? The gear that isn’t in the pack that will come include the following: Wallet, cell phone, mp3 player (sometimes you just need a distraction), 2 water bottles, handkerchief (you’d be amazed how important this is), route maps and contact info for hotels, extra AA and AAA battery (the first is for the blinky light on the bike, the second is for the mp3 player).

5. Pack the “sag bag”. This is a collection of tools and gear to work on the bike during the last half of the trip, but will include stuff for the rider, as well, such as Icy Hot (for those overused muscles), extra anti-chafing cream (say it with me now, “there will be NO chafing!”), electolyte powder and sunscreen.

6. Get contact info for people to meet in Lock Haven. I’m hoping to meet some of my professors once I reach the end of my journey, and I also hope to pick up my diploma. It’s a big campus. I’ll need to know where everyone is.

7. Make sure Wifeness brings the laptop. How else am I supposed to share this whole experience with you?

8. Pack the tourist clothes. Once the trip is done, the whole group will be travelling to Hershey and its environs to explore and relax (they will explore, I will relax). I’ll want comfy clothes and real shoes.

9. Ride a little every day through Sunday. This is important because it will condition my body for what’s coming. Twenty miles per day is adequate here. Also, I’m still breaking in the new equipment, and I want to make sure any mechanical issues are resolved before it matters.

10. Do NOT ride Monday or Tuesday. These rest days are imperative. I’ll spend these days doing chi kung and stretches to relax everything and store up the energy and sleep I’ll need to make the first couple of days go smoothly.

11. Review the route. I planned a route that I believe is free of traffic and construction issues, but a final check for these will ensure that I don’t have to add miles unnecessarily. It’s easy enough to change things before I leave, but a lot harder to do so once I’m on the road. More on the itinerary later.

12. Touch base with students who are working over the summer. I have a number of students I’m advising as they complete work from the spring semester for my class and others’. I don’t intend to do anything with them during the time I’m on vacation (that’s just not fair), but I do want them to keep working. A little direction before I leave will help them to be productive.

13. Go to bed early on Tuesday. I want to be out the door by 7am on Wednesday, so I have the bulk of my mileage in before it turns hot (assuming the worst). It’ll feel weird, especially after 3 years of going to bed LATE, but I really don’t want to be fending off heat exhaustion on day 1.

I’ll share more about the details of the trip with you in the coming posts.

Blog Backlog

For what will be the last time, I’ve had to go underground to work on graduate school. More about that later. For now, just know that beneath this post will appear the numerous things that I’ve either started, but not had time to finish, or wanted to start, but not been able to put into words. A couple of entries are already down there. Nothing much, just some stuff to catch you up. More will follow as I get it written. Thanks for sticking with me!

Lock Haven or Bust!

I leave in a week on a bike trip that will take me from Wayfarer House to Lock Haven, PA. This trip will take me 6 days and will cover about 400 miles. I’m doing it on my racing bike, not a touring bike (I like light and fast, with thin tires and aero bars), and I should be covering between 75-90 miles per day. In the days that follow, I’ll post more information about the ride, my route and my preparation for the adventure. Won’t it be nice to check in every day and finally see new postings?

I’ve been asked by a number of people if I really think I can do it. Well, I know I can ride that far for consecutive days. Last week I rode from Wayfarer House to my school (60 miles roundtrip) two days and, though there was some bugs discovered that need to be worked out by departure time, the ride itself went fine. I’ve got a bike that is in good shape. I’ve got a body that is in decent shape. I’ve got a route that is challenging, but achievable. There’s a lot working for me. I don’t honestly know if I’ll make it the whole distance, but the point is less about making it than about enjoying the journey. I guess we’ll find out together in a week or two if I was successful. Keep reading!

Did you hear that?

That was the sound of my M.Ed. portfolio going live, and me letting loose three years of graduate school stress in one moment of shuddering release. I posted it online for my professors to review at 1am, and I don’t mind telling you that it was a little anticlimactic not to hear the earth-shattering kaboom when I pressed the enter key. Actually, I think it was more that I’d been running in overdrive for the last month putting the portfolio together (and trying to stay on top of all my teaching stuff), and I simply wasn’t able to slow down immediately. The coffee I’d had at 9pm also might have contributed, as well.

I came into my M.Ed. program expecting to be able to work on setting up the school Wifeness and I are putting together, and I got a lot done on this project during this time. I have a much clearer sense than I did before about what the next steps are, and I’m more convinced than ever that we will create something that has lasting value for many people. I’ll say that I’m proud of the work I’ve done over the last 3 years for this degree, but it is really only the first step in a very long journey. We take the next step soon, when we actually create the non-profit organization that will act as the framework for the school. Stay tuned for more on that in the coming months.

I’m looking forward to having my evenings (relatively) free for the summer, and to being able to go to bed at a (relatively) decent hour. It’s going to take some time to adjust my biorhythms, though. The habits of three years will not be immediately expunged. Fortunately, I have a number of little projects to fill the time until that happens.

The quote, by request, belatedly...

A math teacher had just given his class a two part project. At the time, there were about 3 weeks left of school and, according to Rachel, this project would have taken most of those 3 weeks to complete. The phrase described before was uttered in exasperation at the news that she was still going to have to do the assignment, despite her pleas. This was her response.

“This project you’re giving us at the last minute is so pedantic, and it fucks students who are trying to get serious work done before the end of the year.”

I’d have given her credit for the project just for this sentence. The math teacher chose not to, but did acknowledge her creative and accurate use of both advanced and vulgar English vocabulary.

The Vast and Varied World of Language

Thank you to Rachel for demonstrating recently that it is possible to use ‘pedantic’ and the F-bomb, use them well, creatively and (in my opinion) appropriately, and use them in the same sentence. It is worth mentioning that Rachel is a 10th grader at my school. Gratefully, the sentence wasn’t directed at me; I don’t have her in class this year.

I’m pretty sure I didn’t know what ‘pedantic’ meant when I was in the 10th grade. I’m absolutely certain I would not have been able to combine it as well as Rachel did with an F-bomb. I’m a big fan of the creative and intelligent use of language—in all its forms. I care more about the ability of my students to use their words well than I do that they respect all the rules of language. Don’t get me wrong: I absolutely think it’s important for people to know how to speak and write effectively, and that means knowing the rules of the language they’re using, but there is some wisdom to the contention that students will learn those rules if they’re taught to think about how to use language creatively.

Do the English teachers disagree?

It’s Exhibition Season

All of my students complete a two part project as part of their work for my classes. This project, called an Exhibition, is based on the model for assessment endorsed by the Coalition for Essential Schools. Instead of measuring a broad range of skills over my entire curriculum, however, the Exhibition my students create is limited to a single topic. This topic is of their choosing, and only needs to have a clear and relevant connection to the language they are studying or the people who use it.

Students learn how to determine their topic through general exploration, then they engage in focused research using search engines and translation software. They produce a research document with sources and notes, prepare an outline and create over two drafts a formal 5-page research paper (in English for my first-year students; ½ in the target language for my second-year students; 100% in the target language for everyone else). That’s the “academic” part of the Exhibition.

The creative part comes in the form of their Demonstration Element, when they take a facet of the topic they’ve chosen and prepare a lesson on it for the class, including both a demonstration of their understanding of their topic and an exercise that actively and directly involves the class in learning something important and valuable about the topic.

The final month of classes for me is reserved for the students to present their Demonstration Elements. One student presents per day, and they fill up the full class period, so I don’t actually do any teaching of my own. I basically spend my time supporting my students as they do their thing. It eases some of the end-of-year stress because I don’t have daily work or exams to grade, but it does mean that my time during the school day is non-stop busy.

The payoff comes in watching what my students are actually able to accomplish. I had two Exhibitions just conclude on the Cuban Revolution that were outstanding! Each group talked about the event in general historical terms, introduced the major players (Batista, Castro, Guevara, etc.) and talked about some of the reasons why it occurred. This was not really what they wanted to teach the class, though. Joe and Aaron decided to explore just how 300 revolutionary guerilla warriors with no money and little modern weaponry was able to defeat more than 10,000 seasoned troops with tanks and missiles. They showed just what Castro and his followers went through to achieve military success by developing a board game to simulate the events of “Operación Verano”, which the class played for more than an hour. Sarah wanted to look at was what it must have felt like to be an ordinary citizen in Cuba during the time of the Revolution. She created a role-play game in which students had to make choices based on random events over the course of a simulated revolution. Students were tasked with simply surviving. Some decided to join the revolution. Some decided to help Batista. Some simply remained uninvolved. What they did determined how Sarah’s version of the revolution eventually concluded (Castro ended up winning), and a number of students suffered ill effects in the game. Both demonstrations led to a great discussion afterward on the complexity of the Cuban Revolution and its very real effects on people.

There will be others coming in the next couple of weeks, and I’m really looking forward to them. I’ll share some with you, if you like. For me, it’s truly inspiring to see what my students are capable of doing when given time and support. It sort of even makes up for the fact that they can’t get a lick of homework in on time from September to May!

Random acts of love at my school this week…

Someone wrote “I love you!” on a sticky and stuck it to me. I wore it on my shirt all day.

Someone gave me a note that said, “I heard you had a ‘low esteem’ day yesterday, so I made you some ‘high esteem’.” Attached to the note was a piece of key lime pineapple pie. It was scrumptious!

I got a hug from a senior who was having a lot of stress and who just needed to hear someone say it was all going to be all right. It will be. I’m with you every step of the way!

A teacher, with whom I’ve been having some professional tension, sat down with me and reestablished our bonds of friendship. We are still on opposite sides of the issue at the heart of our tension, but we’ve agreed that this will not get in the way of a good thing.

A parent, whose daughter I have been working with closely to help establish academic routines that will allow her to take responsibility for her own success, wrote me a note to say, in essence, “Thank you, and we really appreciate what you’re doing.”

These are just some of the reasons why even a bad day as a teacher is filled with things that make me glad I’m in this profession.

Thundering and lightninging

I finished today’s 20 mile bike ride just ahead of the first of several thunderheads to roll across the Pioneer Valley. I was locking the bike onto the rack of my car when the clouds, which had been growing ever darker and more ominous, finally shot their first bolt of lightening to earth. The sky flashed that brilliant blue, the pungent smell of ozone that always accompanies such events filled my nose and BOOM!

I love to watch thunderstorms. I love the energy that seems to charge the air when they pass over. I love to see nature, in all it’s splendor, remind all living things unequivocally that we are an insignificant part of a much greater universe. It’s humbling and empowering at the same time.

How does thunder and lightning affect you?

A French Mother's Day Recipe

(Translation)

Take a teaspoon of tenderness

And a cup of cuddles

Add a ton of patience

Mix it all together

And top it all off generously with

LOVE,

Then you get:
The best mom in the world!

Joyeux Fêtes des Mères!

13 Things Thursday--Don't turn around, oh, oh...

Caleb, who lives with Maeve in the upstairs apartment of Wayfarer House, enjoys games of strategy and battle. So do I. We both run Dungeons and Dragons® campaigns and, although neither of us plays it anymore, we still enjoy chatting about the many possibilities for fun that exist in Magic the Gathering®. The house gets together every so often to play Carcasonne® and Munchkin® (which is really funny, if you also play D&D).

Caleb and I have a standing Friday evening appointment to do battle on either the high seas (in Pirates®, which is a constructible strategy game) or on terra firma. The land-based combat is decided with Axis and Allies Miniatures®. I used to play the original board game years ago, and liked it. The rules in this miniatures version are pretty simple, but allow for good, complex strategies, and the entire game can be run in as fast as two hours (faster than a game of Monopoly®). This works for me, since I don’t have 12 hours in a single chunk to devote to gaming any longer.

I represent the Axis in the game because they are at a slight disadvantage in our collection (I’m the recognized better strategist of the two, and this handicap keeps the games appropriately equal). Even so, the Axis has been victorious in the last two battles we’ve fought.

Since any good battle strategy game must include a certain amount of psychological warfare, I’m taking advantage of my recent triumphs to impart a little Axis country popular culture on Caleb and the Allied forces. The following, then, represent 13 little tongue-in-cheek reminders I've been thinking about sending.

1. A poster size copy of this picture, which depicts Italy claiming the championship after beating France in the 2006 World Cup final. (A small caption on this poster will recall that the United States finished last in its group during this World Cup, while Italy finished 1st.)

2. A small book on how to write Kanji.

3. As the title of this post suggests, a copy of Der Kommissar, by After the Fire.

4. A copy of these lyrics to the national anthem of Japan (The music for which can be found [HERE]).

KIMI GA YO
Kimi ga yo wa,
Chiyo ni,
Hachiyo ni,
Sazare ishi no,
Iwao to narite,
Koke no musu made.

(translation)
THE EMPEROR’S REIGN
May the Emperor's reign,
Continue for a thousand,
Eight thousand generations;
Until the pebbles,
Grow into boulders,
Lush with moss.

5. A recipe for Topfenstrudel (A yummy one with vanilla sauce is available [HERE]).

6. A five hundred Hungarian Forint note (worth about $2.71).

7. An email with a link to THIS SITE for a visual guide to many common kinds of pasta.

8. A Nadia Comaneci action figure.

9. А а Б б В в Г г Д д Е е Ж ж З з И и Й й К к Л л М м Н н О о П п Р р С с Т т У у Ф ф Х х Ц ц Ч ч Ш ш Щ щ Ъ ъ Ь ь Ю ю Я я
(Bulgaria is the birthplace of the Cyrillic alphabet)

10. A podcast from Planet Japan, which offers an offbeat look at life in Japan through the eyes of Amy and Doug.

11. A matchbox size copy of the VW Beetle.

12. A bid on this Lederhosen change purse from eBay.

13. A personal rendition of Volare, by yours truly (sorry, no online recording of this is available).

Tag, I’m it!

Chili tagged me for a meme. Actually, I like being tagged for stuff like this. Most of the ones I come across are fun to do, and they make posting much less taxing on my brain when life is, as it is now, full. Here it is…

A - Available/Single? Not even a little. I have been thoroughly blissful as a married man for the past 12½ years. No, really. It’s been that good.

B - Best Friend? Number one on the list is Wifeness. The number two slot is reserved for all those who are, by conscious decision or happenstance connection, members of the Wayfarer Community.

C- Cake or Pie? The right cake (rich chocolate, with peanut butter frosting) wins over all possibilities for pie. Pie, however, has a great many contenders in the top ten. Blueberry comes in at number two, then apple, pumpkin, pecan and several varieties of cream pies. Cheesecake (technically a torte, which is a type of cake) is in the middle of the list somewhere.

D - Drink Of Choice? Coffee. See #4 on this list.

E - Essential Item You Use Everyday? #2 on that same list, my laptop, pops into my head first. Of course, #4 (the Internet) goes with that.

F - Favorite Color? Years ago, it was blue, but it has changed. I think it’s black now.

G - Gummy Bears Or Worms? It was tradition in my high school to stick gummy bears to the monitor of the computers in the lab to document who finished the most programming projects. Gummy worms are fish food.

H - Hometown? I’m a Navy brat, so I moved all over as a child. I spent most of my teenage years on a small farm in Topsfield, ME., but my family moved west from there shortly after I graduated from college and I have no other connection to the place. The place I’ve lived that most qualified as “home” was the Seacoast area of New Hampshire (Portsmouth and Exeter, specifically).

I - Indulgence? Eating out. For a long time, the quick fix was fast food. Now that I’m working to lose weight, it’s Subway or Panera. When there’s time to savor, I love to go to someplace that does food just a little differently than I’ve ever had it before. I really love to have my culinary palate widened in that way.

J - January Or February? Both are winter months, so they’re the last two months of the year on the list (July is #1). Of the two, January is currently the better because my school goes on intersession break for three weeks in January, so I get to do lots of fun things that aren’t part of my regular teaching duties. February has a week of vacation, it’s true, but it’s just to f***ing cold for me.

K - Kids & Their Names? Two. SiSi is 5½ and NiNi is 3½. Both are incredibly cute, and I am blessed to be their papa.

L - Life Is Incomplete Without? Time alone, new experiences, laughter, My family, the Wayfarer Community, my students.

M - Marriage date? New Year’s Eve, 1994.

N- Number Of Siblings? One brother, five years my junior. He makes me laugh, but we’ve never been terribly close.

O - Oranges Or Apples? I eat apples during the day because they’re convenient and not so messy, but they don’t stay with me very long. I’ll burn through an apple teaching in less than an hour. An orange lasts much longer, but it’s hard to take time out to peel them and deal with the mess when I only get to properly sit down once during a six hour teaching day

P - Phobias/Fears? Hmmm… Bugs crawling on me freaks me out. Psychological terror makes me lose sleep (Silence of the Lambs still makes me sweat).

Q - Favorite Quote? It changes. I think right now it’s, “Golly! That’s amazing!” (said in the falsetto voice of the big fish in Finding Nemo who hears about Marlin’s adventures).

R - Reason to Smile? Watching my girls do their kid thing, interacting with my students in the halls between classes and IMing with my wife when we’re sitting in the same room.

S - Season? Summer is waaaaay in front. Then comes Spring and Fall. Winter can kiss my ass.

T - Tag 3 or 4 people? I don’t know who hasn’t already been tagged, but I’ll do Suzanne, Kizz and SAHM

U - Unknown Fact About Me: Wow! Something that NO ONE knows?? Well, I’ll share this, because it’s on my mind. One of my greatest worries in the world is that I will spend my life working to be a really good teacher but, because of my conviction to do exactly that, I will never get there.

V - Vegetable you don’t like? Brussel Sprouts are about the only one.

W - Worst Habit? Putting things not important ahead of things that are.

X - X-rays You’ve Had? I’ve had several in my life. Most recently, I had one of my left hand to rule out a fracture or joint cause for a problem in my pinkie. I bruised the bone somehow about a month ago and it swelled up to the point that I couldn’t bend it. There was no obvious reason for it, but it is still tender even now.

Y - Your Favorite Food? I eat according to the mood I’m in most of the time, and I have a lot of foods that I like. Anything that can be grilled is high on the list right now because we are officially into grilling season at Wayfarer House. I use a charcoal grill to mix natural charcoal (none of that Kingsford stuff in my grill) with maple from our big tree out back to give all manner of meat a rich, smoky flavor. We had ribs the other day that were simply mouth-watering!

Z - Zodiac Sign? I’m a Leo, through and through, but my moon sign (Pisces) and rising sign (Capricorn) do a great job of tempering and complementing the less agreeable traits of my most central zodiac type.

10 Things Tuesday*^—What is your identity?

So, how do you see yourself? Identity was the topic of an engaging and thought-provoking discussion during a recent faculty meeting at my school, and I have been thinking a lot about the topic since. Identity is different from stereotype. While the latter seeks to categorize individuals using simple labels imposed from the outside, the former establishes from the individual not just a label, but a context for it. Sometimes stereotyping is necessary, since our survival often depends on our ability to make snap judgements based on generalities. Understanding our own identities, however, gives us a key to appreciating the beauty and complexity of the many facets of who we are. All of us are the sum of a great many things. Our experiences, our relationships, our heritage and our geography are only some of what make us distinct.

This week, then, I offer to you 10 of the myriad identities that make up my unique brand of self. They are in no particular order.

1. Teacher. I have known I wanted to teach since I was 13 years old, and it is the only profession to which I have ever truly asipired. I enjoy preparing lessons, honing delivery, sharing my experiences and seeing students take something from them that they find valuable and relevant to their lives. I am blessed to teach in a school that matches very well my own philosophies of teaching, and I hope I am able to help create a school that does as well for others.

2. Papa. I love my children fiercely. I am so incredibly proud of them and the way they are coming into their own as individuals. It is an indescribably exciting experience to be part of their growing up. I feel privileged that they chose me as their papa. I hope I am worthy of such an honor.

3. Husband to my Best Friend. I am married to a woman who is, in every way, my partner. We have adventured, planned, created and realized in wonderful ways during our 12 years of marriage, and I thoroughly enjoy doing all that we do together. Our marriage has a motto: We got along so well we decided to get married. I choose the word “husband” for this identity because it implies the commitment that is the foundation of our marriage, but the word “companion” should definitely be understood as a component of our relationship.

4. Athlete. I haven’t felt like this identity was very strong in me for several years, but I’m excited to feel able-bodied again. I have always loved the comraderie of competitive team sports (soccer has been number one on this list for as long as I can remember), but I also love the challenge of individual endeavors like triathlons and distance cycling. I do not consider myself to be a fabulous athlete; I do not expect to ever be tops in any sport I practice. I ride and run because I enjoy it. I coach soccer and softball because it is exciting and a wonderful way to be social with young men and women I would otherwise only get to see in a classroom (and because it is wonderful exercise trying to keep up with them).

5. Linguist. I know six languages fairly well, and bits and pieces of probably another another half dozen (if you count ASL) but, more than that, I love the connection to other cultures that knowing these languages provides. It is incredibly empowering to be able to understand and communicate to someone from a different part of the world, with different experiences, opinions and ways of seeing the world, yet with all the same basic needs and feelings I have. I have a gift for seeing connections and patterns in languages, too, which makes exploring new languages fun. If only it helped me with my Scrabble® game!

6. Gourmand. I’m sure I’ve said this before, but food is my friend. I love to cook and prepare food, but I’m even more of a fan of savoring and sampling it. Yes, I appreciate refined cuisine, but there’s much to enjoy in the world of plebian fare. I make a mean filet mignon, for example, but little in the world beats good truck stop biscuits and gravy. I can eat a wide variety of foods (though I can’t see myself eating some of the stuff they show on Fear Factor) and I’m perfectly willing to try new things—especially if there’s garlic and olive oil involved.

7. Independent Thinker. I do not easily align myself with groups. I am not a member of any churches, unions, political parties, professional organizations or issue-based social groups, and have found very few such institutions that match my values closely enough to endorse. Part of the reason for this may be that I sit squarely in the middle of “moderate” on most issues, and I can appreciate and accept (and sometimes even reject) more than one side of an argument. I guess I just don’t see things the way others do. The things I often see as key points of an issue are just not what the mainstream is looking at.

8. Visionary. I am a big picture person. I see things as they might be, if their full potential is realized, though I also work hard to see their realistic side. I am concerned with the end result, and rely on the detail-oriented people to take care of the minutiae. That’s not to say that I don’t appreciate the process. I may be able to see the end product well, but I recognize the importance of the path I take to achieve it.

9. Problem Solver. If something is wrong, my first instinct is to fix it. This identity serves pretty well with toasters, cars and other such devices since I’m fairly mechanically inclined (and blessed with a good understanding of what my limits are). In interpersonal matters, however, this identity does not always serve people well. If you tell me something is the matter, I will probably remember to sympathize. I will try to be a good listener while you vent about it. I will do my best to offer my love and support, but I will always be thinking about how to make things better. Because people do not always bring problems to light for the purpose of having them solved, the drive to actually solve them can, on occasion, be a bit of a liability.

10. Adventurer. I like to challenge myself by stretching the bounds of my abilities. I’m doing a 400+ mile bike ride to Pennsylvania this summer in part just to see if I can do it. I love to push myself mentally, as well. I like puzzles, riddles and brainteasers of all kinds, especially if they’re of a kind I’ve never seen before. Why? Call it an affirmation of my belief in the capacity of humanity (myself included) to accomplish powerful and amazing things. Adventuring, for me, also means experiencing things that are unfamiliar. I love to travel for this reason, but this kind of adventure is one of those things that can easily be done without leaving your country. Have you ever been to a restaurant and put yourself in the hands of the chef? How about shopping for a suit or dress that highlights an identity you do not show very often (you don’t have to buy the outfit to enjoy the experience of having an experienced merchant show you what the possibilities are)? Take a walk or a drive to some part of your neighborhood you’ve never seen before, or go to an event you might never attend otherwise. I am often pleasantly surprised by the experience of just exploring the unknown.

What are some of your identities?


* I had this post started last Friday, but just couldn’t seem to finish it up. It’s done, and I’m posting it now. Sorry for the delay!

^ I’m thinking about changing the theme to 13 Things Thursday (Chili says the alliteration is important). I never seem come up with ideas for these until Monday, which leaves me scrambling to sit down and actually write it all out in time for Tuesday. If I change the day, maybe I’ll have more time to finish at least one (supposed to be) regular weekly post. Any bets on how well it works out?

10 Things Thursday…

OK. We’re off by a month and a couple of days, but I just didn’t have the chance to post this on Tuesday.

I am planning a cycling trip from Wayfarer House in Western Massachusetts to Lock Haven, PA in July. I'm adding it to my list of goals for the year as a reward for finishing grad school. By then, if the universe is kind and I can get my thesis written, I’ll have earned my M.Ed from the university there. I’ve been engaged in this online M.Ed program there and I’ve loved it, but I find it a little disconcerting that I’ve never actually set foot on the campus of the school. I decided it would be a great reward for 3 years of hard mental labor to bike there. The trip is somewhere around 400 miles, and I’ll do it with my road bike and a backpack for the first few days. Then, if I’ve survived that long, Wifeness and the girls will meet me on the road in the van and they’ll spot me the rest of the way. I’ll ride, they’ll go explore the area, meet me for lunch or something and we’ll all meet up at a B&B for the evening. Once I've made it, we'll take our time going home by touring through Pennsylvania.

It’s been a wicked damn long while since I’ve done a trip like this, so I’ve been training since Christmas to be fit enough to make this happen. I’m doing pretty well, though I have a ways to go before I feel I’m truly ready.

I got a nice 40 mile ride in this past weekend, and managed another 20 mile hilly ride on Tuesday. The weather has been phenomenal the last few days (even yesterday's rain didn't keep my softball crew from playing), and being outdoors on my bike has been a wonderful treat! This week, then, I give you 10 reasons why I love distance cycling so much!

1. The experience of riding is interactive. You can smell and hear things around you that you simply can’t from a car, and you are much more in touch with your environment. You feel the minute changes in the weather, altitude and road conditions as you go, but you see them faster than you would if you walked.

2. Riding is interpersonal. You can actually say hello to someone and stop and chat. When you stop to rest or get food or simply look around, someone always wants to know where you’re coming from and where you’re going. It’s a great way to meet wonderful people and, very often, these same people will help you along your journey by offering travel advice about what roads are easiest, and sometimes even feeding and boarding you when you desperately need it. I have great stories of this from past rides, and it is one of the things that makes me keep wanting to do this kind of thing.

3. Actually going somewhere far on your own effort is empowering. I rode to Vermont the other day! I took myself there with my legs (and the help of some very trusty equipment), and I brought myself back home again. How cool is that?

4. There is something very peaceful about the zen of pedaling a long, straight stretch of road. You feel your legs pumping, and the sound of the spinning chain is just audible over the rhythm of your breath. The wind passes over you smoothly, like a fan, and it carries with it the aromas of countryside and fresh outdoors. The sun feels warm on your face and arms. The next thing you know, you’re miles down the road and you’ve reached a perfect state of oneness with the bike and the road. Ommmm….

5. You know that, if you can climb that hill (and you can!), you can do anything!

6. You know that, while climbing that hill, you will test yourself physically, but that the toughest battle is in your head. If you win that, you will see the top from the saddle of your bike.

7. You know that, once you’ve beaten the hill, the reward is getting to go down the other side like a bat out of hell. There is nothing—nothing—like hitting 50mph on a road bike! WHEEEEEEEE!!!

8. The investment in equipment is not always cheap initially, but is longlasting, and easy to upgrade over time. My road bike cost me less than $1,000 new (it was last year’s model, knocked down from $1,200). That was Christalmighty, was it really? 15 years ago, and I have ridden it well over 3,000 miles in that time. It has survived two accidents—including a major frame-bending collision with a lime green Porsche—but still rides as smoothly now as it did when I rode it home from the bike shop that first day. I recently replaced my pedals and shoes (cost: $250), but my prior pair lasted me nearly the entire 15 years I’ve had the bike. Ditto my mileage and cadence computer (cost: $35), and my aero bars (cost: $75). I’ve probably purchased a total of another $500 worth of clothing and equipment since I bought this bike. All together, I figure the cost to do this thing I love comes to around $180 per year to date. That’s ±$10/month; ±$2.50/wk; ±33¢/day. My coffee habit costs me as much!

9. Riding is great exercise, and the kind you can adjust to your ability, mood and time constraints at the time. Do you feel like a real workout? Take on the toughest hill you can find or push yourself to go just that little bit faster. Feel like relaxing and taking in the countryside? Sit up, look around, pedal slowly. You’ll still feel it at the end, and it will feel good!

10. I can ride, even when I can’t run or play soccer, or even be outside at all. I have a trainer that I can attach my road bike to that allows me to pedal indoors. During the winter, my bike lives up in my office in the attic. During the warmer weather, when it’s downstairs, I can still hook the trainer up to it in the living room (if the house is empty) or out in the front hall. I can even throw a movie into my laptop and set it up in front of me, to keep me entertained while I crunch miles. I can also listen to Red Sox games on the radio or watch regular television. I love that, even when it’s crappy weather out, I can still get to work out a little without having to join the gym. I recently cycled 20 trainer miles (which are harder that road miles because it gives more resistance) while previewing a movie for my Spanish class. It's like multitasking!

An interview

This came to my attention first through Contrary, then through Chili. I thought it was a neat variation on the meme theme, so I asked Chili if she'd do me. Here’s what she sent…

Chili: It's actually kind of hard to think up good, provocative interview questions. Feel free to change/alter/toss any of these in favor for something that has a more fun answer...

No, I’ll go with the questions you asked. It would seem somehow impertinent to change them, even for the sake of comic relief.

Chili: What's the DUMBEST thing you've ever KNOWINGLY done? What were the consequences?

Oh, wow! Well, I suppose the first thing that’s popped into my mind qualifies as the winner. There’s a little bit of background, though, so bear with me. First, it’s important to understand that this was done with full intention, after carefully considering all sides of the issue, and is an excellent example of making the wrong choice precisely because you actually stopped to do that.

Not long after I moved to Las Vegas, Cirque du Soleil came to town. They opened up their first show outside of Canada at the Mirage, and it was a bit of a risk for them. At that time, they were a bit of an unknown, so there were no guarantees their kind of entertainment would take off in Sin City. They decided to post a huge number of positions through the casino to help get the show off the ground, one of which was a “liaison and interpreter” to the acts in the show.

I came across an opening with them during a random sweep of ads in the major casinos, looking for something stable and sedentary because I was doing a lot of cycle training at the time and I wanted to continue to be able to do that. The job required a French speaker (additional languages a bonus), would go with the performers to the various public appearances they were required to attend and provide simultaneous translation, and would also see to whatever needs they had during their off duty time. It paid pretty well to start and I had just the right qualifications for this position. I applied, and they offered me the job.

This job offered amazing possibilities for interaction with an intensely creative and driven group of people, work an innovative, growing organization that now has shows all over the world. Cirque du Soleil recruits performers from all over, and the chance to speak (really speak) not just French, but Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, German, but any others I might be inclined to learn additionally would have really challenged my gift for languages in a way I haven’t been able to do since college. It was just the right job, so you can imagine what happened, right?

I turned it down.

I still kick myself in the ass for that decision.

Chili: If you had to give up one of your senses, which would it be and why?

Hmmm… Well, I can certainly say that I would keep my sight. I may be all manner of colorblind, nearsighted and afflicted with Graves Disease, but I rely a lot on my sight and to be without it would be a difficult transition for me. I also rely on my hearing quite a bit, too, so that has to stay. I think it would be dangerous for me to lose my sense of touch (hell, I do myself enough harm even having it), so I’ll keep that out of concern for safety. That leaves taste and smell.

I think I’d keep smell and lose taste. I really like food. I like cooking it, presenting it, eating it, savoring it; but, thinking about it, so many of the lasting memories I have of food do not sit in my taste memory as such. They come from the smells. I can close my eyes and instantly call to mind the smells of any number of wonderful things: Coffee, fresh baked bread (from a patisserie in Paris, which also has its own particular redolence), and garlic in olive oil are just the first aromas from a kitchen that make my mouth water. But smells go so far beyond the kitchen. There’s the earthy scent of a warm spring evening (we had one of those just yesterday and it was exquisite). There’s a special type of perfume that I can detect in a crowd which will instantly call up the memory of someone I remember who wore it. There’s even the smell manure from a nearby farm that I think of fondly because it reminds me of the experience of growing up on a farm.

Take my taste buds, then. Maybe then I wouldn’t care if I ate cereal with milk that was just that little bit past fresh. As long as it wasn’t curdled. Then we’re into the whole texture thing.

Chili: If you could go back in history to be a witness to any one event,
which would it be and why?

Oooo! A good question, that. I’ll say that it’s one probably better asked of my wife, the history person in the house, but let me think a minute.

I guess there are several contenders, but here are two:

I’d like to see an instance when Jesus performed a miracle, but not so I could debunk it. I like that there is such a thing as mystery, and I’m comfortable with not knowing exactly how it was done. The thing I’d want to see was how the event unfolded, from the crowd assembling, to the fishes and loaves coming out of nowhere, to the afterglow, to the disciples telling everyone the show was over and to go the hell home (after passing the hat for tips). It would just be an enlightening sort of event to see in person.

I’d like to see the meeting of the pilgrims at Plymouth Rock. I’ve had the opportunity in my life to interact with indigenous people in Brazil (I spent a week with a tribe in the middle of the rainforest—STRICTLY illegal for foreigners without permits!), and I have a sense for what it must have felt like to meet people with whom you could not communicate in any real way. How unnerving must it have been for both sides to see each other for the first time! The Wampanoag probably had in their oral history some encounters with European settlers (the Vikings, after all, landed several hundred years before the pilgrims did), but can you imagine what it was like to see them for real, looking all ratty and destitute, and clearly having no idea what the hell they were doing? From a sociogical perspective, that would have been interesting!

Chili: What is your superpower, and how do you use it for good?

Neat that you asked this, because my students are doing a unit on superheroes and powers in the next couple of weeks!

I have, since my early youth, known I’ve had great reflexes and an almost uncanny ability to instinctively react to things before they happen. I am very good at seeing patterns and relationships, and I think this comes in part from being able to recognize what I see know in what I have seen before. I suppose this would translate to an ability to see just a little bit into the future to see context and consequence—a kind of augury, if you will, that can tell whether a particular action will bring good or bad results in the immediate future. I’m not thinking about being able to predict far into the future, per se (I’m not sure I’d want that pressure), but to see a little ahead would seem a reasonable superpower, based on who I am.

I think the best use of this power for good is an advisory capacity. I don’t mean that I would necessarily prevent people from experiencing natural consequences for their actions, but rather to prevent innocent suffering where possible and to encourage everyone to stop and consider the question of “What happens next?”

I should note here that it might have been nice to have this superpower when I was offered the job at Cirque du Soleil. I might still have turned down the job, but at least then I’d be able to say it was for some reason other than BECAUSE I WAS STUPID!! ACK!!

Chili: When you're an old man, what are the young 'uns going to roll their
eyes at you for saying all the time?

Oh, Christ Jesus, there are so many things! I know that people already roll their eyes when I say, “So, I’ve got good news and I’ve got bad news. Which do you want to hear first?” I’m betting it’ll be that.

________________________________


OK. Now it’s your turn! Here’s how it works:

Leave me a comment saying, “Interview me” or something like that, and either include your email (if I don’t already have it) or send it to: wayfarerbrian AT comcast DOT net.

I’ll email you five hopefully provocative, entertaining questions. There’ll be different questions from the ones I’ve answered here (that’s the beauty of this!)

You update your own blog with the answers to the questions I sent, and include an explanation of how this worked with an offer to interview someone else in the same post.

When other people comment on your blog asking to be interviewed, you get to ask them five questions, and the process evolves.

I leave it to you, then!

PS: Thanks, Chili! That was fun!

Where, oh where, has Wayfarer gone…

It’s been exactly a month since this blog has been updated, and for that I’m profoundly sorry. I hope you haven’t all just said, “F*&# it” and moved on. I’ll get around to everyone in time to let you know on your own blogs that I have not died or moved on to MySpace (I just can’t bring myself to set up shop there), but for the time being just know that things are well.

April has turned out to kick my ass! Teaching issues began the month. This is the time of year when students begin to come to the realization that they might not earn credit for courses, and when parents start to demand conferences and considerations from teachers in an effort to save their children from their own consequences. Please understand that I don’t begrudge parents this right. I think it’s important for children to know that parents will come to their aid even when they’ve made bad choices, but it is really irritating when they put blame on teachers for their children’s negligence.

My administrator is very good about defending the performance of her teachers, but I never take that for granted. I have learned to keep good records, so that I can adequately demonstrate exactly how a student is doing (or not) in my course. It is nevertheless a time consuming endeavor to go back and uncover all the notes, documentation, samples and communication on a student’s performance because the parents hope that, if they say I haven’t done my job right, perhaps the school will cut their kid some slack. I had to do this twice this month, and I am tired from it.

Right on the heels of this came midterm reports, which I should put into context. Eight times a year, my school produces narrative reports for students. Four of these are only for students who are in danger of not earning credit (we call them warnings); the other four are midterm and end-of-semester reports. Those of you who do letter grades with codes should appreciate just how little time it takes to do the task of reporting grades. It takes much longer to do narratives. I actually cheat a little because I have an Excel spreadsheet hooked to my grades that generates a basic narrative based on how students are doing, and this cuts the time *I* spend on reporting down by more than half. Even so, warnings routinely take me 4 to 5 hours and the major reporting takes more than 10 hours to do. Add to that the task of catching up your grading, so you have the most up-to-date information available, and you’ve added several more hours of time to the process. It’s emotionally draining.

Now we’re in the middle of Exhibition season, and my students are writing their 5-page papers. I’ve been getting drafts in from them and, as always, they require a SIGNIFICANT amount of revision. My 9th graders write for absolute crap! I have 65 of these to review in the next two weeks, marking revisions as I go so they can resubmit by mid May. I’m grateful that my TA, Dana, is around to help me with this, but again, it’s more tedium and time away from things I would rather be doing, like blogging.

Finally, there’s my thesis. I’m a little more than halfway through the writing of it (Wifeness is reviewing the first part now), and I’ve made good progress on the second part of it this week while I’ve been on vacation. I’ll need to dedicate more time over the next month to get it out the door, but I’ve managed to work through the research obstacles now, and so it’s just down to actually putting it all down on paper.

So, does that explain where I’ve been? Again, I’m sorry for not keeping up with blogging, but somewhere along the line something had to give. Still, it’s not very nice to just disappear like that, so I’ll commit to leaving word when I’ll be going on hiatus again, if I have to.