Uberall ein erstes Fruhlingslarmen.
Everywhere there is the first noise of spring.
A soft rosy afternoon light graces the muffled dribbling of a basketball on the driveway. The male cardinals sing as we fire up the Broilmaster again. It’s nearly time to celebrate spring, but we’re tempted by the teasin season and March Madness.
Here is a good route to take when the wind is west by northwest, but it's a wunderbar route when the wind is west by southwest. Ann Mattson from the Freeport Bicycle Company put me on to this last October, and we’ve done it three or four times these last two months. You’ll find a mix of flats and long gradual hills, with a few rollers in the middle. It's the perfect ride for the start of cycling year.
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Chuck Beichel and I slip into our Lightning P-38 recumbent bikes and work together to shadow each other from the wind. Herr Beichel will punctuate our ride with Marztag, a German romantic poem by Detlev von Liliencron.
Our ride takes us southwest on Van Brocklin Road til it ends at Bolton Road. Turning left on Bolton, we ride to the corner of Florence and Shannon Roads.
Turning right, we continue west on Bolton Road to Saben Church Road. Then we turn right and follow Saben Church north and back west up a long lazy hill past the Mattson’s farm to Route 73.
Following Ann’s directions, we cross Route 73 and continue west on Saben Church Road to the “Tee” at Lott Road. Now, we turn right and sail with the southwest wind in our backs. As we reach the high point of this ride, Herr Beichel unfolds his newly memorized poem.
"Volkenshatten fliehen uber Felder, (Shadows of clouds fly over the fields,)
Blau umdunstet stehen ferne Walder." (Distant Forests stand with a blue haze around them.)
And that is exactly what we see from our overlook as we ride merrily over the rollers to Loran Road.
Turning right on Loran, we glide east down a long hill to Route 73. Crossing back over Route 73, we continue east to Mill Grove Road. In this broad flat valley, I sometimes think we’re in Kansas or Nebraska.
At Mill Grove Road, we turn left and ride north by north east over the bridge at Yellow Creek up past the Owl’s Club. Next to the old limestone building, you'll find cover from the hot summer sun. At the top of the hill near the Emerald Camp Ground, Mill Grove Road "Tees" up to Block Road.
We turn right on Block Road and ride over a couple nice rollers to Pearl City Road. Now, it's time to hoist the spinnaker and sail for home along the newly paved tarmac. The new road and shoulder are wide, but we’re careful to watch for traffic along this busy section.
Wollt’ es halten, musst’es schwimmen lassen.
I wanted to hold on to it, but had to let it float away.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Friday, March 9, 2007
March Sunday Granny 2006
Tough going on Saturday! We rode over the big hump to Pearl City on Babbs Grove Road. Continuing west on Goldmine Road into the Loran valley, we braved the big climb out. With 15 miles to get home, the last five was head down into a gusty north wind.
Cycling in March puts your face in a wind no matter which direction you ride. We had the sun to lift our spirits, but still, legs were spent and the tanks emptied.
On Sunday the sun climbed into an azure sky. I called Chuck Beichel about a 9 AM start. "It’s cold; 28 degrees—well maybe 30. Think I’ll ride later or walk today."
Forget yesterday's tired legs. Out we went into the sun and another March blow.
It was early in the season, and we were glad to have a triple crankset with the little "granny" chain ring. Just deflect the wind, stay in ole granny, and spin away.
Riding up bumpy Van Brocklin, we turned west on Stephenson Road and headed over to Rink Road with the wind slapping at our right shoulder.
Turning right on Rink, we kept our head down as far as US Route 20, and continued across. The newly paved section of Rink Road north of 20 was a pleasant relief. The hills and the woods sheltered us from the stiff March wind.
Arriving at Cedarville Road, we reversed the route, hoisted the spinnaker, and sailed for home happy for our granny gear, the sun in our face and clear roads in March.
Cycling in March puts your face in a wind no matter which direction you ride. We had the sun to lift our spirits, but still, legs were spent and the tanks emptied.
On Sunday the sun climbed into an azure sky. I called Chuck Beichel about a 9 AM start. "It’s cold; 28 degrees—well maybe 30. Think I’ll ride later or walk today."
Forget yesterday's tired legs. Out we went into the sun and another March blow.
It was early in the season, and we were glad to have a triple crankset with the little "granny" chain ring. Just deflect the wind, stay in ole granny, and spin away.
Riding up bumpy Van Brocklin, we turned west on Stephenson Road and headed over to Rink Road with the wind slapping at our right shoulder.
Turning right on Rink, we kept our head down as far as US Route 20, and continued across. The newly paved section of Rink Road north of 20 was a pleasant relief. The hills and the woods sheltered us from the stiff March wind.
Arriving at Cedarville Road, we reversed the route, hoisted the spinnaker, and sailed for home happy for our granny gear, the sun in our face and clear roads in March.
Thursday, March 1, 2007
Providence in Las Cruces
Providence! We finally get a break from February’s icy grip. Our niece, Sarah, was to be wed in Las Cruces, New Mexico, and we were invited along with her Godparents, Captain Larry & Mrs. Susan Barton, our friends from Janesville. El Capitan is celebrating his fiftieth year as a private pilot and graciously bid us to join them on board Barton Airways.
It was seven below at Rock County Airport on the morning of February 15. But we were ILS filed and wheels up and headed for the Lower Middle of New Mexico. As we climbed towards our cruising altitude of 12,000 feet, I saluted the frozen Upper Left Hand Corner of Illinois.
One stop and seven hours later, we were descending into Las Cruces. Barton Airways flys a Beechcraft Bonanza, replete with turbo-charger and GPS navigation. This is one quick airplane considering we took an hour for lunch and gas in Hutchinson, Kansas along with an unexpected diversion.
On our way into The Crosses, air traffic control in Albuquerque obliged us to detour around the military missile ranges and Hutchinson Air Force Base. We checked out the White Sands from a safe distance and briefly chased an F-16 until he lit his burners.
Las Cruces has the dubious distinction of being the second fastest growing retirement community in the US. We were not surprised to see rampant growth and franchise frenzy. No matter, because it was sunny n sixty and we were here to celebrate the unity of our fair and elegant Sarah and her man Josh.
We were also grateful that our daughter Katie drove down from Santa Fe to join in the fun. Kate was so thoughtful to stuff my dear old Vitus 979 in the trunk of her amigo mobile. The thought of getting back on a bike in sunny dry weather was Providence itself.
Booming Las Cruces crowds the Mesilla Valley. The valley is historic and agriculturally interesting despite its flatness. The river that runs through it is the Rio Grande—a long lazy sometimes trickle which ambles down the middle of New Mexico to form the border with Old Mexico. Up north, just west of Taos, the Rio Grande rushes through a deep black snake of a gorge, impatiently dependent on the snows in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains to push it into the broad flat valleys further south.
The Mesilla Valley is the last to be served in New Mexico. Here, the Leasburg Dam diverts the Rio’s flowage to irrigate acres of onion and cotton farms and a forest of pecan trees.
When you’re cycling through such arid country, it is providence to find the shelter of any kind of tree. In the Mesilla Valley you’ll ride through groves of them, a vast stretch of man (and machine) pruned pecan shade along Highway 28.
Thanks to Nicole Blouin and her book, Road Biking New Mexico, I was directed from our hotel towards New Mexico State University. At the north edge of the campus near the Pan Am Plaza, is Milagro’s Coffee Y Espresso. I would never have found it had I not caught up with a local rider named Ty who had passed me on South Triviz Drive.
Ty led us down to Milagro’s where we joined several other Saturday morning riders. This was obviously a bike friendly place for a coffee. Two quick shots of espresso, and we were forming up. I accepted a couple compliments on my vintage Vitus as we rode west on East University Avenue.
We took a couple jogs around the historic town of La Mesilla. At Snow Road (Route 372), I bid farewell to the group and turned southeast. Now, I was rolling happily alongside the pecan trees and freshly worked fields. I crossed over Route 28, and continued east to Route 478. The morning sky was clear and blue, and the Organ Mountains rose up in the east like the spiny back of giant pink iguana.
At Route 478, I turned southeast and followed that down to Mesquite and Route 192. Turning right on 192, we headed back west across the Rio Grande to San Miguel. I couldn’t resist riding down Route 28 to La Mesa to photograph Chope’s Tavern and Café.
On Josh’s recommendation, we (Fondas and Bartons) ate lunch at Chope’s the day before and confirmed that they have the best Chiles Rellegnos in the Valley. These arrive at your table as three deep-fat fried poblano chiles stuffed with cheese. Naturally, the chiles followed Chope’s homemade chips and salsa. For dessert, we had sopaipillas, a deep-fat fried puffed pastry with honey to squeeze into the cavity. All this was washed down with a good amber Mexican beer. We now know why the Mexicanos love their siestas.
When you arrive at La Mesa, “Chopes” (the restaurant) is on the El Paso side of its more colorful tavern cousin. Note photo of Vitus leaning against the tavern.
From Chope’s, I headed back north on Route 28 through San Miguel and Stahmann’s great pecan forest. North of this huge orchard, I crossed the Rio Grande and turned left on Snow Road. Snow Road continues northwest to the stop sign at Calle del Norte (Route 359). By Nicole Blouin’s calculation, this is about five miles, and neither Calle del Norte nor Route 350 are marked as far as I could tell.
So, I crossed myself, turned left, and headed west over the Rio Grande. Just beyond the bridge, Calle del Norte turns north and becomes a bumpy Fairacres Road. I was comforted by my dear old Vitus with its new Douglas Carbon saddle as I rolled happily along this stretch.
As you pass beneath Interstate 10, Fairacres Road turns east to a Tee then continues north up to US Route 70 and West Picacho Avenue. Turning right on US 70, I rode back east towards Las Cruces. The traffic along 70 was heavy, and I was glad to have a good shoulder.
At the first stop light, you can turn back north on Shalem County Trail and follow Nicole Blouin’s sixty mile Mesilla Valley Cruise. But I had arranged to hook up at the Downtown Farmer’s Market and so continued east across the Rio Grande.
Our thanks to Sarah & Josh for gettin hitched in Las Cruces. A huge thanks to Larry & Susan for a grand flight down and back on Barton Airways. We’ll never stop laughing about our self-induced gavage at Chope’s. And thanks to Katie for hauling dear ole Vitus from Santa Fe.
The week after Providence, the thermometer soared into the 40s and we had three good rides back in our Upper Left Hand Corner of Illinois. February was not lost to us after all.
It was seven below at Rock County Airport on the morning of February 15. But we were ILS filed and wheels up and headed for the Lower Middle of New Mexico. As we climbed towards our cruising altitude of 12,000 feet, I saluted the frozen Upper Left Hand Corner of Illinois.
One stop and seven hours later, we were descending into Las Cruces. Barton Airways flys a Beechcraft Bonanza, replete with turbo-charger and GPS navigation. This is one quick airplane considering we took an hour for lunch and gas in Hutchinson, Kansas along with an unexpected diversion.
On our way into The Crosses, air traffic control in Albuquerque obliged us to detour around the military missile ranges and Hutchinson Air Force Base. We checked out the White Sands from a safe distance and briefly chased an F-16 until he lit his burners.
Las Cruces has the dubious distinction of being the second fastest growing retirement community in the US. We were not surprised to see rampant growth and franchise frenzy. No matter, because it was sunny n sixty and we were here to celebrate the unity of our fair and elegant Sarah and her man Josh.
We were also grateful that our daughter Katie drove down from Santa Fe to join in the fun. Kate was so thoughtful to stuff my dear old Vitus 979 in the trunk of her amigo mobile. The thought of getting back on a bike in sunny dry weather was Providence itself.
Booming Las Cruces crowds the Mesilla Valley. The valley is historic and agriculturally interesting despite its flatness. The river that runs through it is the Rio Grande—a long lazy sometimes trickle which ambles down the middle of New Mexico to form the border with Old Mexico. Up north, just west of Taos, the Rio Grande rushes through a deep black snake of a gorge, impatiently dependent on the snows in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains to push it into the broad flat valleys further south.
The Mesilla Valley is the last to be served in New Mexico. Here, the Leasburg Dam diverts the Rio’s flowage to irrigate acres of onion and cotton farms and a forest of pecan trees.
When you’re cycling through such arid country, it is providence to find the shelter of any kind of tree. In the Mesilla Valley you’ll ride through groves of them, a vast stretch of man (and machine) pruned pecan shade along Highway 28.
Thanks to Nicole Blouin and her book, Road Biking New Mexico, I was directed from our hotel towards New Mexico State University. At the north edge of the campus near the Pan Am Plaza, is Milagro’s Coffee Y Espresso. I would never have found it had I not caught up with a local rider named Ty who had passed me on South Triviz Drive.
Ty led us down to Milagro’s where we joined several other Saturday morning riders. This was obviously a bike friendly place for a coffee. Two quick shots of espresso, and we were forming up. I accepted a couple compliments on my vintage Vitus as we rode west on East University Avenue.
We took a couple jogs around the historic town of La Mesilla. At Snow Road (Route 372), I bid farewell to the group and turned southeast. Now, I was rolling happily alongside the pecan trees and freshly worked fields. I crossed over Route 28, and continued east to Route 478. The morning sky was clear and blue, and the Organ Mountains rose up in the east like the spiny back of giant pink iguana.
At Route 478, I turned southeast and followed that down to Mesquite and Route 192. Turning right on 192, we headed back west across the Rio Grande to San Miguel. I couldn’t resist riding down Route 28 to La Mesa to photograph Chope’s Tavern and Café.
On Josh’s recommendation, we (Fondas and Bartons) ate lunch at Chope’s the day before and confirmed that they have the best Chiles Rellegnos in the Valley. These arrive at your table as three deep-fat fried poblano chiles stuffed with cheese. Naturally, the chiles followed Chope’s homemade chips and salsa. For dessert, we had sopaipillas, a deep-fat fried puffed pastry with honey to squeeze into the cavity. All this was washed down with a good amber Mexican beer. We now know why the Mexicanos love their siestas.
When you arrive at La Mesa, “Chopes” (the restaurant) is on the El Paso side of its more colorful tavern cousin. Note photo of Vitus leaning against the tavern.
From Chope’s, I headed back north on Route 28 through San Miguel and Stahmann’s great pecan forest. North of this huge orchard, I crossed the Rio Grande and turned left on Snow Road. Snow Road continues northwest to the stop sign at Calle del Norte (Route 359). By Nicole Blouin’s calculation, this is about five miles, and neither Calle del Norte nor Route 350 are marked as far as I could tell.
So, I crossed myself, turned left, and headed west over the Rio Grande. Just beyond the bridge, Calle del Norte turns north and becomes a bumpy Fairacres Road. I was comforted by my dear old Vitus with its new Douglas Carbon saddle as I rolled happily along this stretch.
As you pass beneath Interstate 10, Fairacres Road turns east to a Tee then continues north up to US Route 70 and West Picacho Avenue. Turning right on US 70, I rode back east towards Las Cruces. The traffic along 70 was heavy, and I was glad to have a good shoulder.
At the first stop light, you can turn back north on Shalem County Trail and follow Nicole Blouin’s sixty mile Mesilla Valley Cruise. But I had arranged to hook up at the Downtown Farmer’s Market and so continued east across the Rio Grande.
Our thanks to Sarah & Josh for gettin hitched in Las Cruces. A huge thanks to Larry & Susan for a grand flight down and back on Barton Airways. We’ll never stop laughing about our self-induced gavage at Chope’s. And thanks to Katie for hauling dear ole Vitus from Santa Fe.
The week after Providence, the thermometer soared into the 40s and we had three good rides back in our Upper Left Hand Corner of Illinois. February was not lost to us after all.
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