2014 - peaceonabike

August 16, 2014August 24, 2023

Didn’t Want to Do It

PINKHAM NOTCH, NEW HAMPSHIRE

Each year it seems harder to bring myself to New Hampshire to ride this mountain. But it seems to be more about the 1,400-mile drive (round trip) than the ride up the mountain. And this year I wasn’t “feeling it.”

Rest Area on I-91 near Brattleboro, Vermont

I was surprised when earlier this week my daughter, Ashley, asked me when I was going and if I needed a driver. I hadn’t made any gearing adjustments to my bike and was planning to call it a career at six successful hill climbs.

But with Ashley volunteering, if not wanting to go, I decided to go. Besides, I would see the Gubinski family again.

Mount Washington Hotel (we did not stay there)

Two years ago was to be my last time racing this mountain. I needed a ride down and found the Gubinski family, or they found me. But every rider needed a driver and no vehicles could go to the summit that Saturday morning unless they were bringing a cyclist back down the mountain. It was a marriage of convenience. Lucas and Alexa were hiking to the summit and their parents, Vic and Alison, were to drive up and meet them – as long as they were bringing a rider back down. And thus we met.

Near Crawford Notch, NH (Credit: Ashley Snow)

Navigating here yesterday, and anticipating it would be the last time, I decided to try a different approach to North Conway. We came up I-91 so we could stop at our favorite rest stop in Vermont. Then we followed US 302 and came in on the other side of the mountain through Crawford Notch, a drive neither of us had done before.

I never saw a moose before until Ashley came with me in 2007. The race was canceled that year but she was happy – she saw a moose. She came with me again in 2008 and, again, we saw a moose. Ashley hasn’t been with me since 2008 and I haven’t seen another moose. Yesterday, we saw a moose. When I told my friends, the Family Gubinski about her “Moose Whispering” skill, they didn’t believe it – they always wanted to see a moose. So we left registration at the same time. We found another moose.

This morning I was hoping the race would be canceled. It would be appropriate bookends that Ashley was with me for my first (2007) and last (2014) races and both were canceled. The weather did not look great. When I checked before leaving the hotel it was 37 degrees at the summit with winds at 44 mph – wind chill was 23 degrees.

On the other hand, were the Gubinski twins, Alexa and Lucas. I had met them two years ago when they hiked to the top of the mountain. They loved watching the race and decided to come back – as racers. And they talked me into coming back last year. And this year. And today they were excited and ready to go. Alexa had taken brakes off her bike, weighed her water bottles to take the lightest ONE, and was going up without a spare tube or tool kit. She is extreme!

Before coming here I had purchased a larger cassette (32 tooth) to put on my bike but hadn’t, thinking I would return it unopened for a refund (if the race was canceled). This would make the bike easier to pedal. I had my mechanics change the front ring from a 30 to a 24 but last year ran a 24:28. The 24:32 would be better.

Riders getting ready at the start (Purple – Group 4)

Ashley went up the mountain. The starter gun (actually was a small cannon) went off for the first wave of pro and “Top Notch” riders. I decided I better put the cassette on my bike. I was in the fifth and last group to start, 20 minutes behind.

This took me back to my short-lived Cub Scout career when I was working on building a plane to fly on a wire. I waited until the last minute to attach the propeller. At the race, my plane won its first two heats, easily in fact. In the third, the propeller came loose and fell off because the glue had not set yet. This was a life lesson that should have taught me preparation. It did not.

Some riders in my wave. The unicyclist and young girl beat me.

My quick change of cassettes did not go as expected. I had a new lighter wheel from my Trek Domane which I planned to switch to my climbing bike. It has an 11-speed cassette. My mechanic assured me the wheel would fit, and I guess it did, but it did not like the new 10-speed cassette. I couldn’t get the cassette fully tightened.

It could have been operator error but the second group was now headed up the mountain. (Just three groups left to go.) I took the last three gear cluster from the 10-speed and replaced the last three gear cluster from the 11-speed and tightened it. Now I was running an 11-speed cluster on my 10-speed bike/derailleur. This, my friends, is not a good combination. That 10-speed cluster is not meant for the 11-speed hub and I didn’t even bother to test it. I failed Cub Scouts too.

Unidentified rider climbing toward the summit

I was sitting in a field with two wheels, neither of which was working with my bike, and less than 10 minutes to go. The gears would have to be. I lined up at the back of the last group, which was also the largest group. I started dead last (which I always do). There were two unicyclists ahead of me. The cannon sounded. I didn’t move. The group had to space out first as they took off.

Vic Gubinski nearing the finish (Credit: Alison Gubinski)

My gears seemed to work only for the first three but anything beyond that and they were skipping. That cluster of three gears was molded as one whereas the rest were individually added with a washer. Those other gears would be problematic except I would never get to them. I could have ridden a single-speed up the mountain as long as it had 24:32 gearing.

Lucas, Alexa, Barry (Credit: Alsion Gubinski)

The weather was warm, around 70º (21ºC), at the base, and I, along with most racers, wore a short sleeve jersey. No jacket. No arm warmers.

**Jill Landman, Geoff Hamilton** – I don’t know them – they just passed by me and I took their picture

The lower section (first two miles) is just beautiful. It’s just a 12% grade road headed up through a deep forest. At 1.5 miles I passed the first of a few people pushing their bikes. In the past, this was mentally deflating but not today. I kept going not even thinking about them.

Lucas Gubinski nears the summit (Credit: Alison Gubinski)

Around Mile Three or Mile Four it got cold. Real cold. Real fast. I sort of envied those riders who had jackets or arm warmers. The wind was strong – at times it was a headwind.

Seven times – dedicated to Alex Shepherd

I came to Mile Four realizing it was more than halfway. I wasn’t working that hard. I felt good. I passed a red bib rider (first group). Plenty of yellow (second), blue (third), and purple (fourth) too. Although I had been passed earlier by both unicyclists who were racing (after I passed them at the beginning), I overtook them too.

The top of the mountain was cold – my hands were starting to feel it a little, but otherwise, I was OK. I came to the final 22% grade and saw the Gubinski family cheering for me. I smiled. I waved. I gave thumbs up. I slowed down.

I finally shifted into my lowest gear (32t). I made a big deal about changing that cassette and never once used the lowest gear. So I made sure to get my money’s worth. I climbed the 22% grade and looked at the time – 1:48. Yuck. Same as always.

I was surprised. I thought I had done better. It’s about power to weight (ratio) and even though my weight is up this summer I felt good. This was the first hill climb where the “Quit Monster” didn’t hound me. Thoughts of Jake The Hero Grecco, Alex Shepherd, and Jamie Roberts carried me to the top. Every previous climb here I have had to fight not to quit or stop. Today was cool. Just climb. And since I didn’t use the easiest gear, I thought I might be going better than last year. I guess the wind or maybe cold slowed me down. Ah, it didn’t matter.

I don’t have power data but I do have heart rate data for my seven climbs:

2014 – 161.1/176 bpm
2013 – 161.8/173
2012 – 160.8/178
2011 – 153/173
2010 – 156/176
2009 – 158/177
2008 – 156/176

Alexa Gubinski powers to the finish (Credit: Alison Gubinski)

Each year I hit my max on the final climb. The last three years my average has been 161; before that, it was 156. I have no idea what all this means except I’m alive.

As far as perceived effort, my climb in 2008 was a 10. I want to think today’s effort was a 6, which is probably not what one wants to do in a race. But twice I almost stopped not to rest but to take a picture. The only reason I didn’t was it is so hard to get started on a 12% (or higher) grade.

Ashley found me, we took some pictures (seven times up the mountain!) and I found the Gubinski Family. Alexa came in at 1:20:30 and, as she would find out later, finished 5th in the Women’s Division. Lucas did well too, coming in under 1:15.

At the bottom, we enjoyed a great turkey dinner and said goodbye to our friends. I didn’t want to make this trip this year but am glad I did. Although it’s good to retire with seven straight climbs, I do have that new cassette, only used once (and with a low gear almost not used at all). Any takers?

Four finishers. Apparently I need coffee.

As for real racers, John Kronborg Ebsen beat Cameron Cogburn (and 516 others) to win in 52:53. Marti Shea won for the fourth time in 1:06:01.

“Shea hoped to finish the climb in under 65 minutes, but the cold and windy weather got in the way of that plan. The temperature was just over 40 degrees and winds about 35 miles per hour for a wind chill factor of 25 degrees when the top riders reached the summit.

“‘Down below, the weather was good,’ said Shea, ‘But around four miles the wind started, and then it was off and on – a side wind, then a head wind. I was losing body temperature. There have been a few races here with conditions like this, but this may have been the worst I’ve seen. Anyway, I’m happy about my fourth win.'”

Race Report Source: Facebook page of Mt. Washington Auto Road Bicycle Hillclimb
(16 Aug 2014)

My Strava time was 1:46:53. Not competing for anything other than PRs, this is more accurate than the cannon time since I am usually near the end of the group and can lose up to 90 seconds or so at the start. But this is point-to-point and is consistent over time. My PR is 1:42:15. I am, if nothing else, consistent. Consistently bad perhaps, but consistent.

August 8, 2014March 6, 2023

25,000 Miles Cancer-Free

BAINBRIDGE ISLAND, WASHINGTON

I had told my friend, Chey Hillsgrove, I’d be joining him at the end of his cross-country cancer ride. I had hoped to get their route and ride backward from Bremerton or Bainbridge Island until I found them.

My friends, Dale & Kimber Polley were visiting Seattle. Kimber wanted to take me to Chey (after some begging by me, I think). It worked out because while I envisioned we would encounter the riders on the road and I would start at that point, we left very early and Chey’s group planned to leave very late. We arrived in Port Townsend before many of the riders did (they had homestay visits the night before).

Shelby Perkins inking Chey (it will wash off)

I said hello to Chey and then met Shelby Perkins. Shelby was a college classmate and soccer teammate of Jamie Roberts and it was good for both of us to meet someone who knew her. Riders and friends joined hands for a dedication circle.

Words cannot explain what being part of a dedication circle means and I won’t try. Suffice it to say that my two highlights of a week of riding were meeting Alex Shepherd in Ashland, Oregon, and being in the dedication circle. Neither involved riding.

We rolled out as a group, apparently minus one. I was riding with Mike McDonald (Virginia Tech) and chatting about others. He told me Adrienne Rivera also goes to Va. Tech and I asked where she was. After looking around he said “missing.”

Chey had dropped back to go find her. Ellie Stevens, Natalie Fischer, and I waited. Natalie left cue clues for them on the paths. Once we got together the five of us rode as a group the rest of the day.

At Mile 15 I pulled over long enough to raise my bike above my head to the bewilderment of the other riders. I just celebrated “Around the World” – 24,901.6 miles ridden cancer-free (started in 2010).

The first water stop was by the sound and by some fabulous blackberry bushes. I failed to grasp at the time that the entire area is basically covered with wild blackberry bushes. I started picking and sharing blackberries wherever I could find them.

These were the best blackberries I have ever eaten. I know now the best blackberries come from the coast of Washington. The best strawberries come from Finland.

Natalie Fischer Summiting the Wall – It’s steeper than it looks

Ahead of us was a steep hill. It measured 1/2 mile from the bottom which included the lower section where the water stop was. The “wall” portion was 1/4 mile long and it kicked up to 20% in a couple of stretches.

I had preloaded a turn-by-turn cue to Garmin which Chey provided two days earlier. That helped our navigation. Once we actually went off cue to stay on course, in the process saving some miles (I think). Later we followed riders up the road even when Garmin told us to turn. Garmin was right but we were with everybody else.

(This is also why it was not a good idea to go to the end and then ride backward until we met. Chey’s group was prone to going off-course at times but then did make it across the country so they did something right!)

We rolled into the campground for the riders last night. I thought they deserved better than camping on their last night. Actually, I’ll say it – they deserved better than camping on their last night.

After a quick lunch with Chey and his friends, I decided not to bike the surface roads back to Bremerton but instead to ride to the Seattle ferry. I was first in line to get on the boat and first off – which I needed. Because then I had to figure out the system — get a ticket to the Bremerton ferry which was boarding. I was last in line and last on the boat. But I made it.

The riding was fun but the dedication circle made the day. Jamie, Jake, Alex.

Three rides all part of a great day

August 7, 2014December 16, 2016

Home Sweet Home

SWEET HOME, OREGON

This ride was simple. Find someone’s ride on RidewithGPS.com. Download it to my Garmin. Follow it. Improvise at will.

I am as Pennsylvanian as they come with all my ancestors of at least five generations having been born in Pennsylvania. With one exception. My grandmother, Ruth Ann (States) Lowmaster was born in Oregon. Sweet Home, Oregon. Her dad, John T. States, was a lumberman in Indiana Co., Pa., in the early 1900s. He and two brothers went to Oregon as did the family of Mae Bartlebaugh, who was probably then 15 (when she moved).

While in Oregon, they met, married, and in 1907 my grandmother was born. Family tragedy would bring them back to Pennsylvania by 1911 and my grandmother never returned to Oregon to see where she lived, a disappointment she carried with her.

Dam at Green Peter Lake

Today was my day. I started by a covered bridge then rode out on US 20 – the same US 20 that rolls through Erie, Pa. I followed Foster Lake then made a climb through the lush forest to Green Peter Lake. I turned around and went alongside the other side of the lake and then my map took me away from town. I could have crossed a bridge and made a loop, albeit 20 miles or so but I was looking for 40 (or so).

Green Peter Lake

The (pre-programmed) route I was on was called Berlin Wall and the author sort of chastised anyone that wanted to try. I was on Berlin Road and this was a good name for it. I started climbing and reasoned it couldn’t be too hard. It kept climbing. And kept getting steeper. I was working hard to get myself over the top. Well done guys!

Liberty Rock Products

Once over the top it was down in the valley to a loop turnaround. I was passed by a number of logging trucks and two Weyerhaeuser plants. No mistaking, this is a lumber town.

The Rio - Theater in Sweet Home — The Rio – Theater in Sweet Home

Back in town I continued through town looking for a cemetery and looking for miles since I was close to 50. The cemetery is Gilliland, which I found (with help from a rural letter carrier). My great-great-grandmother, Emma Ruth (Ross) Painter, mother of Mae (Bartlebaugh) States, is buried here. I found her grave and was completely satisfied with a day of riding around my grandmother’s birthplace and a little tombstone hopping.

Emma Ruth Painter

August 7, 2014July 23, 2015

Crater Lake and Alex

ASHLAND, OREGON

I have dreamed for years of visiting Crater Lake but it’s pretty isolated for this East Coaster. But when I started planning this trip I knew I could visit the lake. And not visit but to ride around it.

Both Crater Lake and Alex Shepherd are in the southern part of Oregon. Alex is a 12 year-old battling brain cancer. He’s an avid cyclist as well and last year I made a promise to him or to myself that I would ride with him.

I drove to Crater Lake and, following one rider’s suggestion, parked at Rim Lodge and rode clockwise. I would not recommend this.

It was a beautiful morning if not a bit chilly. The temperature was in the low 50s. I wore arm warmers and a vest. Headed out I headed up. None of the climbing was hard – just long. On my first climb I came to stopped traffic and went up the road past them to the front. There I had 15 minutes of quality conversation with a flagman. In the park they were working to remove loose rock along the side of the road before nature does.

There are more than 30 pull-offs. At one I saw two women both taking a picture of each other. I stopped and asked if they both wanted to be in one. They were so glad I stopped. Then they asked how far I would ride and I replied “around the lake.” They asked me if I could do that in a day. I told them I better do it in three hours.

Phantom Ship Rock

At one lookout I met Mike from Tucson who was riding a trail bike. At the Phantom Ship I met an older lady, probably 70, who was riding counter-clockwise. She told me counter-clockwise was easier because there’s less climbing. I’m still scratching my head on that one. To me there’s the same elevation gain and loss no matter which direction one rides. She may be referring to one direction has more linear climbing because the grades are less but longer while the other direction has steeper grades. And that would depend on your climbing preference.

As far as parking at Rim Lodge, I might recommend that for a counter-clockwise ride. But on a clockwise route with three miles to finish, I passed the visitors’ center (a good place to start). Then I began a three mile climb to Rim Lodge, to the finish. After three hours in the saddle I would have preferred not to finish with a climb. Like direction, you’re going to get the same amount wherever you start but I would much prefer starting with the climb while my legs are fresh.

Overlook at Rim Lodge

After the ride at Crater Lake I drove to Ashland to meet Alex. At first, Alex and his mother, Aushna, were out trying to get his medications and Aushna encouraged me to meet her husband, Dan, and daughter, Lily. Dan is also an avid cyclist and I thoroughly enjoyed talking about cycling (and life) with him. We also discussed Alex’s situation and their efforts to get him into a trial.

Falling Hurts

It was late in the day, I had been there for a couple of hours and still no Alex. I was on East Coast time and was getting tired. I also had a four hour drive ahead of me. I thought about leaving a note for Alex and Aushna but decided one doesn’t do that. I would stay until midnight to meet Alex.

Alex and Aushna did come home and I was able to meet them. Alex isn’t riding his bike right now, a couple of brain surgeries in the past few weeks will do that to you. But what a neat kid. He showed me some of the motorized Legos that he has built. I told him to let me know when he’s back on his bike – I still want to come out and ride with him.

Aushna Shepherd, Barry Sherry

This is an incredibly beautiful family. My prayers are with this family daily and I ask that you join me.

August 5, 2014July 9, 2017

Oregon

CORVALLIS, OREGON

I rode with a group of college students riding to Portland on their second and third days in Pennsylvania. This trip had been planned for quite a while and I hoped to see them again in Oregon. Once Jamie Roberts was killed I knew that I must see them, not for their sake but for mine.

Bridge over Willamette River, Corvallis, Ore.

Aaron Hoxworth sent me their turn-by-turn directions and I told him I would ride the route backward from Corvallis to Eugene to find them. I started my day by riding to a rental car facility in Portland, taking it back then barely squeezing the bike box in the car. But it fit.

I drove to Corvallis and arrived later than I wanted to but it was the best I could do. Wheels down at 10:00 a.m. I followed my preloaded map and directions. I had ridden about 11 miles when, out on a country road next to the Willamette River, I saw four riders coming to me in the distance. As I passed they called out my name. I did a U-turn and congratulated each rider.

We rode together for a little more than two miles then I turned around and and went back to find the second group. There too I was met with warm greetings as I turned and rode with them. And I did the same for groups 3, 4, and 5.Once I hooked onto the last group, one with Ki Young Kim in it, I was enjoying good conversation when I saw the second group off to the side of the road. I told Ki Young I would drop off and ride back with them.

First Caitlin Epps was sitting on the ground, bike upside down, spinning the wheel and trying to true the wheel. Then Ashley Arnold took over. I was really impressed. On Day 2 they struggled with changing flats and here they were truing a wheel.

Once back on the road I took them the way I came which was over a wonderfully old rickety wooden bridge in Corvallis. Unfortunately that meant we missed coming off the newer bridge and seeing the mark to the lunch stop. It was only one more mile to the Boys and Girls Club – their hosts for the night, but it was noon. And we were the only ones there.

A quick phone call and we discovered where lunch was. Another mile back – bonus miles – and I got to meet the rest of the team. It was good to see them happy and I spent some private time with Caitlin. I said goodbye to Aaron, and not many more, because after an impromptu game of barefoot soccer, most of the riders scattered into town.

I was so happy to see them. They have come a long way – much further than 4,000 miles on a bike.

Willamette River

Caitlin Epps

Bridge over Willamette River, Corvallis, Oregon

What’s Missing Here Joanna Wang?
Your Helmet
(With Chris Blazer)

August 5, 2014July 23, 2015

Portland

PORTLAND, OREGON

Portland, along with
Minneapolis and Boulder, is one of those “bike Mecca” places.
I’m not sure anyone is a fan of riding in urban areas but if you have to
ride in a major city, try it out in one of these cities. Your turn: Portland.

Alaska Airlines operated by Horizon

My biggest fear was
getting here, knowing I’d be flying with my bike and on a small plane
from Seattle to Portland. As I boarded, from the rear, I asked the guy
in the cargo hold if my bike was in there. He said it was. Sweet.

Suitcase and Bike Case

I figured out the light rail system and for $2.50 took a train to downtown Portland then put my bike on the suitcase and rolled them both up the street to the hotel. It was about a six block walk and beat paying $40 for a cab.

Once to the hotel and I got the bike assembled, I went for ride. Completely by “feel.” There’s a river (Willamette) so I reasoned it would be hard to get lost.

I stopped at Metropolis Cycle Repair on Williams Street for a CO2 cartridge (can’t fly with them) as well as some lube. And some free air. The guy in the shop was very friendly and directed me up towards the St. Johns Bridge.

St. Johns Bridge

It was a nice ride up and back. I was gone long enough to form some impressions.

First, there are lots of bike lanes. But like a lot of cities, the bike lanes are dangerously close to parked cars or include the gutter.

Second, glass. It’s America. There is broken glass on the sides of the road, which is where the bike lanes usually are. Proceed with caution.

Third, signage. Sometimes good. Sometimes spotty. I followed the signs to the St. Johns Bridge until I lost the scent. Same with Downtown Portland to get back.

Fourth, track stands. At every intersection multiple cyclists can be stopped waiting for the light. The really cool cyclists do track stands, that is, balance on their bikes without ever putting a foot on the ground. I’m not that cool.

I’m not a fan of urban riding but it’s a great city to ride in.

August 2, 2014August 2, 2021

Punxsutawney Phil

PUNXSUTAWNEY, PENNSYLVANIA

I’ve done this ride before although never quite like this. It was “wheels down” at 6:30 a.m. on a cool morning with a cloud cover. I left Friedens and rode up Pa. Rte 281 to Stoystown and not a single car passed me. I stopped briefly to take a picture when I found one of the decorative 1930s gas pumps that celebrate the Old Lincoln Highway.

In Stoystown I got on Plank Road for what should have been an enjoyable descent down to and past the Quemahoning Reservoir. And then I remembered a couple of weeks earlier laughing at Frenchman Arnaud Demare stopping during the Tour de France and running into someone’s camper to use their bathroom. Karma would get her revenge today although there were no campers alongside these forested roads. The good thing is that no cars passed me on this stretch of road either. (**)it happens.

Riding my new Trek Domane, I was wondering if my average speed would be higher today than it was four years ago when I was chased by Rottweilers. But I rode at a relaxed pace, often stopping to take pictures. Or other things.

**Arnaud Demare** takes a comfort break during the Tour de France (2014)
Source: BleacherReport.com

In Northern Cambria at Mile 55, I stopped at the home of Don & Nancy Lowmaster for a needed water break. The sun had come out, it was warming up, and I had depleted my water. Nancy refilled my bottles with ice and water.

Fox Pizza, Davidsville, Pa. – My “One Hour” Photo

Although another 20 miles remained to my destination of a reunion site, these were the hardest miles for me. While the climb out of Johnstown seems somewhat steep, the road is good and the grade is constant. Once on these back country roads the climbs become stepper, the surface a little rougher, but for me, the hardest part is the grades are not consistent. It is hard to find a pedaling rhythm.

Coney Island, Johnstown, Pa. Hot dogs aren’t just for lunch anymore.

On Arcadia Road, I remembered a loose dog last year, so I sped up and went into stealth mode. I thought I was by safely. Then to my right heel was a pit bull chasing. Oh boy. But I was already 200 yards past his house and I think he was more chase than catch. At least today he was.

East Conemaugh, Pa., looking towards Johnstown

Just before Smithport someone went by and called out “Hi Barry.” I have no idea who it was.

After the reunion, I decided to ride on to Gobbler’s Knob and into Punxsutawney. I had never been to Gobbler’s Knob. It was another 6-7 miles with much of it on those nasty little climbs that are steep with no consistency. It was August 2 – six months after or six months before Groundhog Day. Was I early or was I late? It didn’t matter. It was a sweet ride down to Punxsutawney to end the day.

I had my dad leave the reunion and drive my car to the County Market in Punxsutawney to pick me up.

A check of the data shows I was not faster than four years ago although it was my second fastest time – even while not feeling so hot.

July 21, 2014July 29, 2015

Chautauqua Lake

CHAUTAUQUA LAKE, NEW YORK

Even as I drove with my with daughter, Ashley, to Lily Dale, New York, I wasn’t sure where I would ride. Part of me wanted to ride around Chautauqua Lake. Part of me wanted to ride back to Erie, Pa. All I knew was she was visiting Lily Dale and I was going for a bike ride.

I designed and uploaded a route to my GPS that would take me down the east side of the lake, cross at Bemus Point, then head straight to Erie. The distance was around 100 km (62 miles).

Lily Dale sits on the three small Cassadaga Lakes. It was a very pleasant morning, around 70 degrees and sunny. There was a bit of a hill getting out of there – one mile at 10-11% – but once up and over it I rolled on towards Chautauqua Lake.

Stockton, New York

Reaching the main highway at the lake I went down the east side, disappointed that there weren’t better views of the water. I expected a road where I could see the lake the entire time and much of it was too far away behind forests to see the lake.

Bemus Point, New York

I reached Bemus Point, a beautiful small village with a ferry that crosses the lake. I rolled up on my bike. I was the only one there but could see the ferry at the other side of the lake. I waited. I thought I could see it was getting closer. It wasn’t.

Operates Friday, Saturday, Sunday

A couple docked their boat and came ashore. I asked if the ferry was getting closer and he said it only runs Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Say what? Secretly hopeful he would offer to take my bike and me across I said it looks like I have to ride around the lake. He agreed stating “you look like you can do it.”

Operating since 1811 – just not on Mondays

I headed off south not knowing where I was going – navigating by feel staying close to the lake. My best option wasn’t an option. Just south of Bemus Point is a bridge across the lake on I-86. A road sign stated “Erie 35.” My mileage was right. I had ridden 24 miles, and if I could cross there I would be to Erie around mile 60. But I had much farther to ride because I could not cross the middle of the lake.

At Jamestown I made the turn and discovered a statue to Jamestown’s native daughter of comedy, Lucille Ball. That made the trip worthwhile.

When I came to Busti, I stopped at a gas station. I saw a man and asked him if he was local. He said he was. I asked how far it was to the Chautauqua Institute and he told me 20 miles. The road sign for Mayville said 14 miles.

Appropriate name for a church in western NY
Panama, New York

I asked if Chautauqua was before Mayville and he said it was. I then said the sign says Mayville 14. He paused and said, “I still say it’s 20 miles.” Sigh.

Another man asked “do you want to ride to Erie?” and was surprised when I told him I did. He told me to take the road I was looking at, Rte 474, and head west. Said it goes right to Erie. Unfortunately, I believed him.

The road was lumpier than I thought

My designed route was north – I was to pick it up at Chautauqua Institute, but this seemed better. I headed west to Panama and then to Clymer. Just outside of Clymer I saw a road sign “Erie 30.” I had ridden 40 miles since I saw the one for Erie at 35 miles. Forty miles and I was five miles closer!

Ashley was on her way back from Lily Dale and asked where I was. “Not a whole lot closer” I told her. The main road from Wattsburg to Erie is Pa. Rte 8 – a busy two-lane road with no shoulders. I didn’t want any part of that. I told her to meet me in Wattsburg. I continued on and we met at the Wattsburg-Erie County Fairgrounds.

NY-PA border between Clymer, NY and Wattsburg PA

I went farther than if I had just designed a route to get me to Erie. I wanted to see the lake which I did. Throw in some westerly head winds and some hills that I wasn’t expecting, it was a harder ride than I expected. I only wish the ferry had been running but then I wouldn’t have found the Lucy statue, which was pretty neat.

July 7, 2014September 10, 2020

Three Country Ride

SISSACH, SWITZERLAND

I had never been to Germany and a few months ago I told Ben Z. that we should ride (or that he should design) a ride that takes us from Switzerland to Germany. And he designed a good one.

I took the train from Zürich to Sissach, met Ben, and went over to Stonebite bike shop, right down the street from the train station. Met a very nice guy working there. I grabbed a Trek Madone with Di2 (electronic) shifting and he fit me to the bike. One problem though. When I tried to shift I discovered the battery was missing and he couldn’t find it. But a couple of phone calls and 45 minutes later we were off and riding – the train.

(Actually there was a second problem. The bike was too large for me and a seat I could not lower. I would be uncomfortable for a day. Oh well.)

Ben, giving a Turkish Couple directions

We took the train to Basel to begin our tour. Winding our way via bike paths, we found our way across and then beside the Rhine River. It was navigating by feel. Within six kilometers we were crossing into Germany.

And almost immediately once we were in Germany, we were leaving Germany. We crossed the Three Countries Bridge into France. I was in Germany for 600 meters. But it counts.

Three Countries Bridge

Once in France we were on pancake flat roads, parallel to the Rhine River and the Grand Canal of Alsace but never quite seeing it. The road was a chip and tar road and a bit difficult to pedal. After 12 kilometers we turned towards the river and followed a road back to a hydro-electric power plant on the river at Krembs.

Hyrdoelectric Plant at Krembs on the Rhine River

No cars but we could cross the damn on bikes. We stopped to watch a ship come through the lock.

Ship coming through the lock at Krembs

Once we crossed the dam we followed the canal south until crossing into Germany. We jumped on a bike bath which was paved but turned to dirt and gravel. Germany has many bike paths next to roads, most are paved but this one wasn’t. We rode it for a few kilometers before finding another path/road which was paved.

Bike path in Germany ran out of pavement

Ben had printed out directions but we seemed to be off cue as much as on and it sure was fun. We followed open roads to wherever they led – which was not to lunch.

Closed on Mondays

Hungry, my breakfast was a Snickers bar in the train station, we found a restaurant/tavern which was closed on Mondays. Then another. And another. Finally we found a place in Kandern in the Black Forest which may have been Pizzeria Sanlorenzo, but I can’t say for sure. After a cyclists’ lunch of pizza, we headed out and up – up a beautiful road through the Black Forest.

Black Forest

Occasionally at a town or intersection Ben would check GPS but just as often we would say – “let’s go that way” as long as it was headed south or west – back towards his home in Sissach.

Ben and a Bike Path in Germany

We were on country roads, for the most part not heavily traveled, but just as often we jumped on the paved bike paths which followed the roads.

Reaching Rheinfelden, Germany, Ben mostly knew the way except that a landmark old building was missing. A quick question to a tourist and we were headed across the bridge crossing the Rhine back into Switzerland, to Rheinfelden, Switzerland. Two questions really. Which way to Switzerland and is that water (in the fountain) potable? (It wasn’t)

Rheinfelden, Switzerland

Ben said from Rheinfelden it would be 15 km more – all uphill. Before leaving, we found a water fountain with potable water and filled our bottles.

Ben, filling his water bottle

Once we left Rheinfelden we were on a somewhat traveled road until going through Magden. And there the climb began. In earnest.

Bridge over River Rhine at Rheinfelden Germany and Switzerland

In the morning we had been riding on dead flat roads along the Rhine in Basel and in France. But in Germany we picked up some hills in the Black Forest and now we had a small mountain to get over. My Garmin was showing it was mostly 11-12%. This was a mini Mt. Washington – 12% but for only two kilometers and not 12 kilometers.

Ben at the summit before Sissach

And it was raining. Cloudy in the morning and sunny in Germany, the rain was coming down in Switzerland. But it felt good on the climb. Once over the top we had 3k back to town. I was able to drop the bike, change, and catch my train, all in a matter of a few minutes.

Meanwhile, back at the bike shop

Three countries on a bike. What a great ride!

Barry and Ben

A big SHOUT OUT to Ben and [Friend}, my hosts on this day. They were both exchange students in the 90s who I have kept in close contact with. And on this day they were both texting each other as to my whereabouts. I was staying with [Friend] and she seemed very worried I would miss my train connections to Ben. And when I left Ben texted her with my EPA. Love you both!

July 5, 2014August 11, 2015

Bridge Jumper

BERN, SWITZERLAND

I came to Bern not to ride but to swim. But I got in a ride. (And a blog entry!)

Bern is a neat city. As a genealogist, I trace most of my family history to Germany and England but I trace my Wenger line to Bern. My great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, John or Hans Wenger, was born here in 1705. Welcome home.

I count among my blessings in life the years I worked with YFU. Those amazing foreign exchange students in the 1990s are now amazing young adults in their 30s. Céline Oreiller met me in Bern and knew my bucket list item – jump off the bridge into the freezing River Aare.

Looking back to the city from the bear pits

We walked the downtown area over to the bear pits. We followed a steep hill up to the gardens and across a high bridge back into town.

WARNING: Octopi in the River Aare

After lunch we made our way to the Cathedral of Bern, a place Céline had never been. Although I had a Swiss Rail Pass which was good for local transportation, it was in my stored bags at the train station. I cursed my decision not to have it. With it, we could have taken the funicular to the top of Bern. And we could have avoided the river.

The Kindlifresserbrunnen

A literal translation of the name Kindlifresserbrunnen
would be “Fountain of the Eater of Little Children”

Céline seemed to think I really wanted to jump off a bridge, probably because I told her that. Many times. I was content to climb the high towers of the Cathedral. Or just ride local transportation if I had my rail pass handy. She made it her mission to get me into the river.

Cathedral of Bern
Too Large to be captured by my camera

Around 5:00 p.m. the sun finally came out. We looked way down at the river below and found a “city bikes” location which offered “free” rentals, an oxymoron, indeed. For the first time today I was in my element. On a bike.

Céline, Barry

We rode across a high bridge then found some streets to quickly take us down to the river. At first we didn’t see anyone swimming but as we approached the Schönausteg Bridge, I thought must be the jumping bridge. Someone in a bathing suit walked by. We followed him across the bridge and watched him slip into the water and swiftly was taken away (safely).

Schönausteg Bridge

We didn’t see anyone jumping but the bridge looked like one I remembered in the BBC segment on swimming in Bern. Thankfully it wasn’t the bridge over to the bear pits which I thought I remembered.

I wasn’t sure if it was legal. There were no signs prohibiting it. So I went out on the bridge, climbed over the railing, being watched by others, not knowing what they thought. I was in the middle of the river and was standing on the suspension rails of the bridge. I thought I stood there for an eternity although it was really only a few seconds.

Jumping into the river I was carried away by the swift and cold current of the River Aare. At first it seemed cool being caught up in the current. But I remembered the most important thing is to get out of the river – there is a dam downstream.

Céline on a City Bike
I rode the same cruiser model

I swam towards the shore and saw the first take out point about 100 meters downstream – stairs built down to the river with a railing in the water. I tried to grab the railing and missed. I was being carried downstream. Just briefly, I stopped. I found a rock that I could prop my feet against.

The Dam Awaits

I was only one meter (three feet) away from the railing but the current was too strong to go against the current. And I could not climb out onto the river bank. I let go and went to the next one. I almost missed this, actually thought I had, but I grabbed the railing at the last possible second. Mission complete. So I went back and jumped again.

After I changed, we had to find our way back to the bike rental place. We climbed up a hill and found ourselves next to the American Embassy. I stopped for a photo op although was warned not to photograph the Embassy itself. I didn’t but the Swiss guard was cool. He turned his back. I could have.

U.S. Embassy

We dropped the bikes off after our ride and headed back to the train station to pick up my stored luggage and for me to catch the 6:36 p.m. train to Zurich. Bucket list item achieved.