What Kinds Of Choices Are These?

Be forewarned:  I'm going to whine in this post.  So, if you'd rather read, or simply do, something else (e.g., ride your bike), I understand.

Here goes:  I had to use up some airline miles by the other day.  I didn't have enough to get a ticket:  Indeed, the last long flight I took was to Prague nearly three years ago.  And I didn't have enough for much of anything else.  Hey, they said I didn't even have enough to donate to charity!

But the airline group (Delta) offered me magazine subscriptions.  Wouldn't you know it?  There wasn't a single cycling-related publication on the list.  Nor anything having to do with poetry or literature in any other shape or form.  Or history. Or art.  Or France, Italy or England. The only travel-related publication caters to gazillionaires.

No Atlantic Monthly.  No Harper's Bazaar.  No Paris Review.  And no New York Review of Books.

So what kinds of magazines were offered?  Cigar Aficianado.  (I have smoked exactly two cigars in my life and don't plan on smoking another. )  Wine Spectator. How, exactly, does one become a "wine spectator"?  Now, I've known a lot of whine (actually, whining) spectators in my time and have been one more often than I care to admit.  There were also magazines about parenting and other things I've never done and probably never will do.

I found only three that even remotely interested me. One is The Economist.  While their politics are different from mine, I can rationalize subscribing to it because it's literate, intelligent--and British.  What were the others?  Please don't hate me for choosing these:  Time and Vogue. At least I can tell myself that the latter will help me with my personal and professional image. And, even if I hate the writing, I can just look at the pictures.  As for Time:  I can read whatever I find halfway relevant and donate each copy to my hairdresser's shop.  

Beer, Cheese, Football--And Cycling?

If you were to ask people what the best US States for cycling are, a lot of people--even those who've  never been to those states--would probably pick Vermont, Oregon, California, Massachusetts, Washington, Colorado or Michigan (especially the Upper Peninsula and the upper parts of the Lower Peninsula).  Nearly every state would get a vote from someone:  After all, we all have different ideas about what "the best" cycling conditions are.

And, I would suspect, at least a few people would pick Wisconsin.  I've never cycled in the Badger State, but I know that its capital, Madison, is consistently rated as one of the most bike-friendly communities in the nation.  And, during cycling's first heyday (during the last two decades of the 19th Century and the first decade of the 20th), Wisconsin had one of the most extensive networks of bicycle lanes.

However, as in much of the rest of the US, the automobile rapidly overtook the bicycle as the chief means of transportation for those who did not have access to mass transit (and even among those who had it).  The bicycle was largely seen as a children's toy.

But, during the "dark ages" of cycling, Wisconsin did more than its share to keep the flame of adult cycling alive, if flickering.  And now the state--better known, rightly or wrongly, for cheese, beer and football (the US version), now boasts some of the greatest concentrations of cyclists and bicycle shops (both brick-and-mortar and online) in the nation.

Jesse Gant and Nicholas Hoffman tell this story in a book released in September:  Wheel Fever:  How Wisconsin Became A Great Bicycling State.

I want a copy for the cover alone:

Happy 69th To Eddy!

Sometimes I can't believe I'm in late middle age. It seems like I did my first multiday bike tour (at age 20), first century (same year).  foreign bike tour (age 21), and race (age 25) all last week.

And it seems that Eddy Mercx's legendary exploits happened a month before that.  He was the first racer I'd ever heard of, and I followed his career passionately. That might be the reason why, in my mind, I still hold an image of him as a young man with long dark hair and an almost-Latin kind of flair that belied his Flemish heritage.

And, of course, I always remember him on his sunset-hued bicycle.  I still think of that color as "Mercx orange" or "Molteni orange", in homage to him and the Italian team with whom he had his greatest professional achievements.

Call me sentimental, but I still think he's the greatest cyclist who ever lived (or, at least, who competed).  In contrast to more recent Tour de France winners, Mercx won hundreds of single- and multi-day classics in addition to his five Tour victories.  (Only Jacques Anquetil preceded him. and Bernard Hinault and Miguel Indurain followed him, in the five-Tour club.)  And he was a superb track rider who set an hour record that stood for twelve years--a geologic age in the world of cycling records.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, he is one of the four athletes who competed during my lifetime (and I had the privilege of seeing) and thoroughly dominated his sport.  

Happy 69th, Eddy!

(Aren't you glad I didn't mention a certain low-speed "chase" that happened twenty years ago today?'-)

Required: A Single Wheel

As a cyclist who teaches--and as someone to whom odd facts seem drawn the way flies are attracted by --well, you know-- I'm surprised I didn't hear about this sooner.

In St. Helen's  School--a parochial kindergarten-though -8th-gradeinstitution in Newbury, Ohio--unicycling was a required subject for many years.

No, not an elective.  Not an extracurricular activity.  A required course.

So, kids passed each other in the hallways, astride their single wheels.  From all accounts, accidents were rate.

That should come as no surprise, given the level of expertise St. Helen's unicyclists developed:  They were asked to perform at events from Worlds' Fairs to Super Bowl halftime shows--and Jimmy Carter's inaguration.

I could find no explanation of why they unicycling requirement was dropped.

I must say, though, that I am surprised that a school in Ohio rather than, say, California had such a requirement!

A Ride To Point Lookout And A Father's Day Mystery, Almost

Today I broke a promise to myself and rode to Point Lookout.  It's not that I have anything against PL or the ride; i just figured traffic would be heavy on the way to the beach on a warm, sunny Father's Day.

Well, there was some traffic going over the bridges from Broad Channel to the Rockaways and Rockaway Beach to Atlantic Beach.  But it wasn't as bad as I expected.  I guess people had backyard barbeques (I saw a fair number of those) or celebrated in other ways.

It's interesting to see couples , usually middle-aged or older, who raised kids who've moved out.  I guess once a parent, always a parent.  I often see such couples on Mother's Day as well:  On that day or Father's Day, it's common for one spouse to take the other out for lunch or dinner.

I wondered if one such couple was at Point Lookout when I got there:

For a moment, I didn't see anyone else, let alone a couple who might've worn those shoes.  Could they have wandered out into the water only to for one of them to have a heart attack, or a memory lapse?

Fortunately, I saw them walking on a sandbar.  No kid was anywhere in sight.