Month: September 2017

Saturday Morning 30 September

Day 21

Mississippi.  Deep South, Dixie’s Heartland.  We arrived yesterday.  I don’t live here.  I can observe, ask questions, take pictures, even write a blog, but no way I can claim to understand what lies deep within Dixie’s Heart.

Yesterday at breakfast, I chatted with MI Broh, who grew up in Texas.  In the late 1950’s, before the Civil Rights Act was passed, he traveled by car with his family passing through Mississippi.  The age of segregation.  Restaurants, bathrooms, drinking fountains he visited were for whites only.

Yesterday we set up and served lunch beside a small church.  One of the deacons arrived and he invited Martha and me inside to see the sanctuary.  Simple wooden pews had pockets holding well worn versions of old King James Bibles.  No hymnals.  The deacon said everyone just sang along with the choir.  The deacon was black and I asked him if the congregation was all black.

Yes, he replied, but people bring white visitors.  Anyone is welcome to attend.

After supper, several of us attended the nearby high school football game.  Two private schools were playing – Indianola Academy and Greenville. The game was much larger in scale than last week’s game at Shamrock. Larger crowds, more players on the roster, bigger linemen, louder music.  People in the crowd cheered enthusiastically and I saw Tiger Tom chatting amiably with several of them.

Most of the football players were white.  Over 90 percent of the crowd was white.  Indianola is 80 percent black.  Was there was another football game in town?

Wondering what barriers prevented others from attending Indianola Academy, I looked up the schools website.  Annual tuition is $5485, plus an expected donation of one or two thousand to the annual fund.  About 7K total.  That’s about what it costs to do a Pactour transcontinental.  We don’t have any black people in our group either.

The Ride

While I was driving the lunch truck, most riders rode in pace lines, battling headwinds across the Mississippi delta.  Flat roads crossed acres of cotton fields and rice fields. As the road approached the Mississippi, it circled the perimeter of an Oxbow Lake, formed many years ago when the Mississippi decided to cut itself a new channel.

Shortly after lunch, Tucson Bill took a spill, hitting a log in the road.  We picked him up, took him to the ER, and I understand he is back at the motel this morning.  At this time I don’t know the extent of his injury.

 

 

Friday Morning 29 September

Day 20

Last night because Martha and I were busy prepping Pop’s Macaroni Slop, aka PacTour Goulosh, to server for lunch today, I didn’t have time to post anything. Here’s what I remember from yesterday.

The ride

I think we all rode easy – only 98 miles, little climbing, winds light and variable.  Quiet country roads through eastern Arkansas, small towns, pine tree farms, deciduous forests cornucopia of tree species. Spent the day being lazy, just being nature’s friend.

I was the last rider to leave Arkadelphia and allowed James and Daniel to pace me for 15 miles until we caught up to Brent and Karen Ann, then Young Ian and Captain Jack. After listening and digesting more words of wisdom from the Captain, I blew off the first sag, then rode slowly allowing other riders to catch me.

A fifteen second stop at the second sag allowed me to continue riding slowly and also hang briefly with groups of riders as they later passed me.  Any one of these groups would have happily allowed me to glom onto their wheels, or ride in with them, but this day I preferred to noodle along slowly, enjoying the scenery, lost in my own world of thoughts.

I thought about the riders, this group, what an extraordinary privilege it is to ride and hang out with them for nearly a month.  Each individual speaks kindly, acts graciously, rides straight, steady and strong. Bicycle angels in cycling heaven.

Tidbits

After reading my blog post from several days before, Captain Jack gently corrected some of my statements about musical acoustics.  If you want to learn about music, don’t rely on my blog.  Talk to the Captain.

As a crew member, I spend some time shopping and waiting in lines at places like Walmart.  Back home, everyone waiting in line is doing something on a cellphone.  Here in the South, people are talking with each other.

A few weeks ago, I whined about lousy layouts in WordPress.  Turns out I didn’t know how to use the gallery feature.

QB Ken showed us a link from the Shamrock, TX newspaper. Tonight in Indianola, he says there’s another game, and both teams are undefeated.

 

 

 

 

 

Wednesday Evening 27 September

Day 18

A 1500 descent along the Talamena Parkway hurled us into the heart of Arkansas.  Narrow roads wound through acres of yellow pine, which Bill said is harvested for pulp.  We crossed and re-crossed the same creek, which apparently fed a large lake near Arkadelphia.

 

We’ve arrived in the old south, though not quite the heart of Dixie.  The first town we entered was in a dry county, so no beer or hard liquor for sale there.  However, they did sell daiquiri sour mix.  Arkadelphia does sell beer, just not good beer and not on Sundays.

 

 

We ate lunch in a vacant lot next to a small country Store in the small village of Alpine. I chatted with the proprietor, Wilma Buck.  She and her husband Troy have owned the store forty one years.  Several years ago, she said they tried to close it down, but the community raised a ruckus and they decided to keep it open.

 

Tonight we’re staying in a Days Inn Motel.  The room smells of antiseptic.  Two copies of the same picture hang on the recently painted walls.  Across the street sits Fat Boys Fine Food, where I remember eating eight years ago and eleven years ago.  The first time I ate there it was called the Pig Pit.  I bought my daughter a T-Shirt there.  I tried to buy a tank top for myself today, but the only sizes are X-Large and XX-Large.

 

 

Tuesday Evening 26 September

Day 17

Four hundred million years ago, the South American Plate slammed into the North American Plate to create an east-west fold called the Ouachita Mountains. Today we rode along the ridge of these mountains on the Talamena National Scenic Parkway, leaving Oklahoma behind and saying hello to Arkansas. Total distance for the day was only 99 miles, but the 7500 feet of climbing with grades of 11 – 13 percent tested everyone’s legs.

Blue sky with puffy clouds, temps in the 80’s, no headwind, mostly smooth road surface, birds chirping, acorns falling from oak trees, wide open vistas to the north and south, what more could a rider want?

Speaking for myself, a little less body fat and stronger legs would have served well. My goal was to “ride into” this tour in time to ride strong on the Talamena, but there’s only so much you can do with only two weeks of training.  The guys who did their homework motored by me.

Indeed, the steep hills fractured most of the groups who had been riding together. I started the day riding in with the Nutter gang for a few miles, and saw how gaps were forming as they climbed the rolling hills before the Talamena. On an early climb, TC Tom and Larry came motoring by me.  Their buddies Phil and Paul were way ahead.  Eastside Matt also came flying by.  “Where’s Rich”, I asked.

“Back there somewhere.”

I’m amazed at how well old guys can climb.  Eastside Ernie (70), Fast Phil (67), Tiger Tom (65), Dr Don (65), Tucson Bill (68), NY Richard (61), MI Jerry (69), MI Mose (64) all rode by me, attacking the hills with Gusto. Wild Wes (60) the youngster may or may not have passed me; my eyes were glazed over much of the day.

 

Road surface gradually became rougher as we reached the eastern extremes of Oklahoma. I tried riding a smooth stripe that ran through the road, but it wavered too much to be useful.  Perhaps other riders tried the same.

 

When we reached the Arkansas border, the surface changed to glass.

I stopped to snap a picture of the sign at the border when Seattle Gary came flying by. He slowed down and we enjoyed riding the final few miles to Wilhelmina Lodge together.

Like many cyclists, I confess to being self-absorbed on rides like today, absolutely focused on the climb, what my body is doing. Talamena provided a pristine setting for riding.  The magnificent vistas, diversity of plants, trees, wildlife I hardly took Time to notice. Thanks to Winchester John for reminding me to listen to the bird calls and the sound of acorns falling through oak leaves and striking the forest floor.

One hilight of the day was strolling with Martha after supper along the path outside the lodge.  She showed me a fat walking stick carrying a baby on its back. Then she noticed the nuts on the ground.  She dropped a rock on one to crack it open and get the meat. It was hickory. We shared a few bits of dessert together.

 

Sunday Evening 24 September

Day 15

A glorious day in Oklahoma: 112 miles, winding roads over rolling hills, farm land, pastures, and long vistas.  Lon said the roads would be rough chip seal, but someone came along and resurfaced them without telling Lon.  Headwinds and cross winds meant that everyone, including me, was looking for a little extra help from a group to share the work of pulling into the wind.

Acoustic Musical Theory

I rode the first leg out of Weatherford with Captain Jack. From riding with him last year, I knew he is a highly accomplished French Horn player who also taught music performance at the college level. Since then I’ve been wanting to pepper him with sophomoric questions about musical acoustics.

“Captain Jack, for over a year I’ve been wanting to ask about music theory. I already know some stuff, like the circle of fifths and diatonic scales.”

“I hope I can keep up.” (The captain was teasing of course.)

My question: Why are instruments of the orchestra tuned to different keys? It  complicates tuning the orchestra.  Why aren’t they all tuned to the key of C?

Thus ensued a fascinating (for me) question and answer session on acoustic musical theory.  An assortment of things I learned:

• Instruments are tuned to different keys because their sound is more complex than a pure tone; harmonics add to the complexity, and each sounds best in its own natural key.
• There are actually multiple ways of tuning instruments in an orchestra: meantone temperament, just intonation, well tempered tuning, pythagorean tuning, and more.
• Shubert wrote much of his work for the key of b flat. Beethoven favored e flat.

It goes without saying that I’m a nerd to ask questions like this while riding a bike.  Captain Jack gratefully and enthusiastically humored me.  We pedaled the first 27 miles easily, allowing a larger group 100 yards ahead set our pace. The captain pulled off at the first sag stop and I rolled slowly by.

Here Comes Big John

So I was rolling along soft pedaling, figuring I would eat one of the bagels and save my energy when Big John rolls up beside me.

“Come on Karl.  I’ll pull you up to that group up ahead.”

Big John is twice as strong as me.  All I could do was sit tight on his wheel while he powered up the road. In a couple miles John caught up to NY Rich, Winchester John and Eastside Matt.  I managed to hang in for a few miles before my legs protested and ordered me to let them go.

Tacoma Steilacoomb Boys

So I’m back to soft pedaling, figuring now I can rest, even stop and take some pictures, when I hear another “Hi Karl.” It’s Paul and the the Tacoma boys: Larry, Phillip, and Tom.  Back to being a bike socialite.

Happily, the TS boys were going a little easier than the other guys, so I was able to  ride with them easily while chatting.  Even better, one of the guys – it was Tom or Phillip – also had musical talent, and we rode up and down hills listening to him belt out songs from the 60’s and 70’s.

Young girl, get outa my mind, my love for you is way outa line…

If you’re goin’ to San Francisco, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair…

Eventually we reached the second sag stop, 58 miles into the ride.  I grabbed a couple cookies and rolled on alone … slowing down for awhile, until Rich and Matt caught me again.

And so the day went, rolling along, boy’s havin’ fun. Riding through the beautiful rolling hills of Oklahoma.  I arrived at Purcell tired, but with a smile on my face.

Footnote

My very close friend Anne Marie introduced me to Pactour in 2003. We used to ride endless miles, talking and laughing together about all kinds of stuff.  One thing she explained to me was that a bike tour needed to have more than a minimal number of chicks to be a fun friendly tour. Anne Marie and I used to argue over many stupid things, but on this point I wholeheartedly agreed.  Another way of putting it, we guys are all cavemen. Women add charm, style and intelligence to a ride. This tour has fewer women riders than other Pactours I’ve ridden.  Hopefully I’ll have chances to ride with them too.

 

Saturday Evening 23 September

Day 14

Route 66, the Will Rogers Highway, established 11 November 1926, carried tenant farmers from the dustbowl of Oklahoma to dreams of California in the mid 30’s.  Today we rode the opposite direction, thin tires bouncing on each expansion joint of the old concrete pavement.  Perhaps ten cars passed all day, while an endless stream of cars and semi’s thundered along over I40, just to our left.

Pictures tell today’s story better than words.  Good thing, because I’m too tired to write much.

 

Friday Evening 22 September

Day 13

Gentle crosswinds blew from the south while I soft pedaled east across the Texas panhandle.  Still in cattle country, grassland and granaries  straddled both sides of old Route 66.  I didn’t notice the Burma Shave signs that Martha told me about later.

As faster riders approached I was able to catch a few action photos.

Texas High School Football

QB Ken, who played quarterback while in high school, discovered the local high school was having their homecoming game.  He organized a small group to attend the event, which started at 7:30.  Ken, Tom and Broh rode their bikes while I walked a mile and a half along a quiet side street.  Dogs barked at me from behind chain link fences, and as I approached the school, a stream of pickups began passing me.

Locals greeted us at the gate.  Clearly we were not from Shamrock so we became a mini-attraction.  Everyone else knew each other.

“Welcome.  Thanks for coming.  Enjoy the game.”

“Best seats are to the left of the entrance on the 50 yard line.  Sit there.”

The newspaper reporter took our picture and asked some questions. Tom described our trip.  I guess we’ll be in the paper next week.

At the concession stand, Tom asked if they had something we couldn’t buy elsewhere.  They sold him four frozen pickle pops – dill pickle juice frozen in 2 oz. cups.  Incredible recovery treats.

The home team Irish Shamrocks had 23 men on the roster.  Fans wearing green shirts held their index fingers high while a small band played the school song.  Then after a moment of silence, both teams entered the field and everyone stood while the band played the National Anthem.

The Shamrocks dominated the first half.  Each time they achieved a first down, the crowd of several hundred people cheered.  When they scored a touchdown, the band played the Notre Dame Irish fight song and an ambulance at the end of the field hit the lights and siren.

Sitting in the stands, I said to myself, “Wow! I would enjoy teaching here.”

Knowing the hour was getting late for old men, I left right before halftime, not staying for the homecoming festivities. Walking back to our motel, the streets were quiet.  I felt simply happy.  Grateful to be on this trip, happy to be in this town.  I said to myself, “I could live here.”

 

Thursday 21 September

Day 12

New state, new time zone.  Everything is bigger in Texas.  Restaurant next store, called the Big Texan, offers a free 72 oz. steak to anyone who can eat the whole thing, along with the fixin’s in one hour. That’s nearly five pounds of meat. The contestant sits on a stage and the crowd gathers round as the clock ticks down.  Sometimes they win, sometimes they barf.

Three large guys attempted the Big Tex challenge and failed while we were eating dinner there.  Wild Wes walked up and chatted with one of the contestants.  He had just arrived in Amarillo after attending a diabetes health conference.

Twenty mph tailwinds today. Riders cruised east at 40 mph while soft pedaling.  Smooth shoulder meant no flats.  More sub 5 hour century PR’s on Strava today.

Amarillo was established in the 1800’s because it had water and a railroad. It flourished as a marketing center for cattle.  We passed long BNSF trains traveling east and west on this rail line today. Grain elevators and enormous feed lots lined the south side of the road. My friend Debbie couldn’t bear to look at them and had to turn the other direction.

Bike Tech

Check out Daniel’s space age helmet and visor.  I asked him about it during lunch today.  The visor is photo gray, meaning it gets dark when it’s sunny, clear when there’s no light.  He said the visor keeps the wind and dust out of his eyes, prevents tearing, and stops projectiles. The brand name is Casko – a bit hard to read on my picture with bad lighting. It’s made in Germany, is rather pricy, but he was able to purchase it at a discount from a firm in England.

 

 

 

Wednesday Evening 20 September

Day 11

While sitting at dinner this evening in K-Bobs Steakhouse, Lon had to ask me what day it was.  I wasn’t sure either and had to consult my iPhone.  K-Bobs is a chain, a typical PacTour restaurant.  I ordered a rare NY strip steak.  The friendly waitress served me a steak with a red flag that said rare.  It was cooked medium. Tasted ok though, I was hungry after riding 110 miles.

NUTRITION AND CALORIE BURN

Food is our fuel. Muscles work by burning ATP, which the body produces by mixing oxygen with stored glycogen.  Our bodies can store about 2600 kCal of glycogen in our muscles and liver.  Our calorie burn depends on how fast we ride. If we don’t ride too hard, we burn perhaps 3000 kCal, and our bodies can also convert fat to glycogen. Many riders, like me, cannot eat much while riding; we grab just enough to maintain our reserves.

Here’s what I ate yesterday:

Breakfast (before riding): 1/2 waffle, fake butter, syrup, 1/4 c. oatmeal with milk, 3 c. coffee with cream

During ride: 4 cookies, 2 bananas, 8 green beans, 1 slice tomato, 2 tbsp. baked beans, 12 oz. coke, 3 liters water.

After ride: Guzzled Sprite, no idea how much. 1 cheeseburger, small fries at McDonalds. 7 oz. steak, 1/2 baked potato, 1 c. chicken vegetable soup, salad at K-Bobs.

The Ride

The tour has reached the midwest.  Total climbing for the day was less than 2000 feet – pretty small for 100 miles.  All day on U.S. 70, straight road stretching ahead of us seemed to be going uphill. Big John said that illusion is created by the curvature of the earth.  I’m not sure if it’s that or diffraction.

U.S. 70 has a wide shoulder littered with tire treads that contain fine wire staples.  People were flatting all day.  I rode one stretch with Bro’s Todd and Terry until one of them flatted.  I’m not sure which one because they’re twins (riding their first tour together.)  I helped them boot the tire and replace the tube, then flatted myself 200 yards up the road.

CLOVIS POINT

Archeologists discovered fluted projectiles called Clovis Points in a dig near this city in 1929.  They were created by indigenous people 12 – 13 thousand years ago, and represent one of the earliest known examples of tool making technology and archeologists still argue whether it originated on this continent or migrated here.