Cycle Upper Left

Wine and Mud – But Beware of the Pines and the Posts

2011-12-14T12:53:00.000-08:00

I installed new Schwalbe Marathon tires on my Las Cruces cyclecross bike yesterday along with shifter and brake cables. For a shake down, I rode over to Trailside in Lake Carroll to pick up December's vino del mese – a bottle of 09 Pine & Post Merlot from Washington State. I arrived round 3:15PM, stuffed the bottle of vino in my backpack and headed out hoping to get home before dark.

On my way back, I decided to detour around the west and north side of the lake and hopped on Lake Carroll’s trail hoping to link up with Koch Road. Ron Mattson at Freeport Bicycle Company told me that Koch Road runs into the north end of Lake Carroll and links up with the trail. Before leaving home, I checked Google Earth and could just about make out that intersection.

Now, I’m on that trail, and the next thing I know, I'm riding down a super steep hill into the deep woods on a muddy rut with rocks as big as your fist. At the bottom was a creek, so I dismounted and hauled the bike over cyclocross style mud and all. I jumped back on and continued up the trail on the other side.

“Wait a minute,” said I to myself! “Was that farmer's lane I saw down there by the creek Koch Road?” Back down the hill I go through more mud, and up the lane. Now I'm pedaling through more ruts of soft greasy grass up a long hill for about a half mile.

At the top, I could see a house and prayed for a road. Praise the Lord! Koch Road! Needless to say I arrived home at 5PM with a big satisfied smile on my face. Wine & Mud are a great mix. Mountain bikes have their place too I’m sure, but not in my playbook.

Chilled Wine & Knotted Quads

2011-11-21T06:48:00.000-08:00

As days shorten and cold winds blow, I return to gravel roads confiding in the image of a tough-guy.

This afternoon, the mission took us to Trailside General Store south of Lake Carroll to apprehend November’s featured special. Famous Fossil’s fruity ‘Traminette’ wine begs chilling, and an obliging wind blew like hell out of the southwest. On the outbound, we ducked alongside tree lines and traversed hillsides – anything to dodge la brezza tesa.

We beat our way west along Hershey and Loran Roads then came about on Carter and Zier Roads to Trailside. West of Route 73, Hershey Road rolls smoothly into forested hills. Then, it goes gravel and descends gently into the Val de Loran.

The low sun burned my retinas. With one hand on the bars, I used the other as a visor and squinted around my puffy glove at the surrounding views from this beautiful road. In a flash, I thought, "should we abandon the vino and cruise back home on this glorious afternoon?" But, a thirsty tough-guy shouted “press on!”

At the bottom, I turned left on Loran Road and looked up from the handlebars to a huge heat-seeking buck in hot pursuit of amour. Then a second doe flanked me, shot across my path and soared over the fence on the hill above. Freeze-frame!

I was now in earnest of expiring daylight. It was 4:00 P.M when we arrived at Trailside. I stuffed the ‘Traminette’ in my backpack and ran for home with the wind in my sails. Time trialing on a cyclocross bicycle is rare, but darkness was fast upon us.

Rather than duck back on gravel along Loran Road, I stayed on Bolton for speed’s sake praying that a sleep-deprived grain-truck driver wouldn’t collect me on his bumper. The notion of wine and broken glass exploding over cold chrome nearly conquered the knots in my quads.

At last, we arrived at the top of the hill near Chateau Chang. Greatly relieved, I looked over my left shoulder above the speckled ember tree line to the close of a magnificent sunset. An intense ribbon, orange as my Las Cruces bike and Patagonia shell, glowed against the deep clear azure heaven above.

Here was an opportunity to celebrate the sublime -- pain, fear, and nature’s blessings. Regrettably, I had the wine but not a glass and a corkscrew.

Early Monday Morning

2011-11-07T12:09:00.001-08:00

Riding at 8:30 AM on Monday in early November is early for me (period). But Jilly used here charms to draw me out into the cool morning and the prospect of more gravel roads.

We’ve had very windy days of late, but today was still and crisp. I gently pressed the big BMX pedals on my Trek 760 happy I had gone back for my down gloves.

We met along Becker School Road and headed west along Loran to Maple Grove Road. We turned and rolled south to Butts Road and followed that west across Route 73 to Lott Road. Then, we were north on Lott to Walgren and east through Pearl City following Block Road back to Maple Grove, Loran, and Becker School Roads.

This morning, the gravel roads were kind to our skinny tires. The harvest field equipment and grain trucks have flattened them down. Now, let’s hope the township road commissioners leave them as is until spring.

Halloween into November

2011-11-06T10:32:00.000-08:00

It’s Halloween, and I look up from my ride at burnt umber hills tufted in deep flat red—the only remaining leaves hanging on oak skeletons. For the first time in a year, the cold is biting my toes. Grey skies filter precious sunlight and long shadows. Winter is barely more than a month away, and I’m thinking of what was accomplished around our family during this cycling season.

The season began with our two grandsons, Luca and Massi (short for Massimo) learning to ride on two wheels. Massi was first—the personification of fearlessness. A week later, Luca ditched his training wheels. Our older grandson is more cautious but still fiercely competitive.

In mid-June, I picked up a vintage Trek 760 in Denver. “Back in the day,” the only feel was steel, and all were made in Waterloo, Wisconsin USofA. Joe Dadez and I overhauled it at the bike shop, and I’ve been riding it joyfully since.

In late-June, we held our Tour for Cancer and netted over $2 Grand. Abbracci to our riders from Freeport’s ChainLinkCyclists; our GOATS neighbors to the west; and the super folks with Robbie Ventura’s Vision Quest organization who again drove all the way out from Chicago to ride with us and support our Cancer Center.

November 1, 2011 – Indian Summer is back for a day. We’re in the 60s and our sunlight has returned. I soak up the vitamin D dazzled to see yesterday’s drab oak leaves sparkle like rubies.

Summer flooding in Pleasant Valley obliged us to be dazzled by gravel along new roads between Route 78 and Massbach Ridge. Yesterday, Bill Leibman joined me in another ride of discovery. We rolled north off Elizabeth Road on Route 78 and flew with the wind down the hill. At the bottom, we turned left on Old Galena Trail and continued north eight miles on this beautiful scenic road.

Neither Bill nor I had been on Old Galena Road. Thanks to the flood that closed the Plum River bridge at Bethel Road and Hwy 78, we now have a new loop in our repertoire. So far so good for November 2011.

Gravel Dazzle

2011-10-25T08:16:00.000-07:00

Often we ride by roads and wonder where they go. A map is just a direction and a tease of what might be. The question won’t be answered until we turn off our familiar roads and explore for ourselves. In the Upper Left Hand Corner, gravel roads are plentiful, and something besides skinny tires may be helpful—especially as we tilt upwards.

I had been making a list of these roads in my head during the past couple years. Jilly Whiting introduced me to many above and around the hamlet of Loran. Last Saturday, we joined forces with Andreas Ruppert from Galena’s GOATS Cycling Club and covered 32 miles over everything from deep muddy ruts to Fiat gulping chuckholes on Hairpin Road.

This Saturday, I planned to park at Massbach Ridge Winery and ride west and north. Alas, I arrived there without my cycling sandals. VivoBarefoot shoes do not work well on Speedplay Frogs, so we aborted that plan and returned to Freeport for correct footwear.

Thereafter, nearly an hour and forty minutes behind schedule, I devised an alternate route from Loran that could take me over uncharted roads in the hills west of Pleasant Valley. From there, we’d continue west over to Hanover then return through Massbach and Pleasant Valley to Loran.

Once again, the Salsa Las Cruces cyclo-cross bike clad with Schwalbe Marathon tires seemed the only logical tool for this excursion into the unknown.

Today was sunny in the low 60s. I forgot about the delayed start and looked forward to riding into the light and shadows of late afternoon. Here is my recap of roads not yet travelled:

HEADING WEST OUT OF PLEASANT VALLEY: We turned west off Hwy 78 on Goodmiller and then left on Beck Road. The we quit the valley up a very sharp but PAVED hill, turned left at Good Hope Road and rode southwest across the high farm fields to Elizabeth Road. Along the way, I slowed to assist a young couple lost and looking for Massbach Ridge Winery.

HEER TO CURTISS TO GAMBLE HILL: We first did this leg in mid-winter over snow covered frost bitten gravel where we met a hunkered down peacock on the roof of a barn. Today, we encountered two lost souls on skinny tires at the bottom of Curtiss Hill steep and piled up with loose gravel. These pleasant lads were riding overland from Hanover to Savanna and thought the paved portion of Gamble Hill Road might offer a good short cut.

This is certainly a very scenic option. It passes by mysterious Lake Fitzgerald serenely tucked away in a valley. Although, skinny road tires are ‘pas utile’ here. I imagine they were obliged to walk the bikes up to the top of Curtiss Hill.

RETURNING FROM HANOVER: Steele Road lies just outside town as you begin a big 13% climb up Hanover Road to Rocky Water’s Vineyard. We rode north following the Apple River until Steele turned away east across the valley. Soon, we were sitting back in the saddle grinding our way up to Pleasant Hill Road. From there, we rolled leisurely on beautiful Reusch Road capped by a paved climb up to Derinda.

LIEBERT – LOVE IT OR LIEB IT: This road is paved as we descended eastbound to the creek at the valley floor. From there we jogged right and left on rude gravel willing our way up and up and up again to Massbach Road. If you have climbed up to Massbach on Skene or Bethel Roads, you can only imagine what it is like to do this on fidgety limestone.

BACK TO PLEASANT VALLEY ON THOREN, GOOD HOPE, GOODMILLER & KNAPP: The shadows were beginning to lengthen as I turned east off Massbach on Thoren Road. Thoren falls leisurely until we met a steep tight slippery hairpin left turn. We then continued north and immediately east on Thoren up the hill to the intersection with Good Hope Road. Here, we turned right on Good Hope then left on Goodmiller. Good deal!

We followed Goodmiller easterly straight into a left turn on Knapp Road. The afternoon sun shimmered across Pleasant Valley. Released from gravel’s grip, I dropped precipitously down to Route 78 on real tarmac. Here was the grand finale to our expedition this Saturday!

RETURN TO LORAN OVER HAIR’PIT’ ROAD: We followed Willow Road back to Loran via Hairpin, Goldmine, and South Loran Roads. Along HairPIT someone had scrolled the name and phone number of a guy named John. No doubt, John is the township road guy. I wonder if John is a collector of auto and bike parts which he nips off with his cavernous chuckholes.

Cycling in the Wind and the Chill

2011-10-19T11:59:00.001-07:00

While many cyclists are shutting down their season or are waiting inside for the next swell of Indian Summer, a few of us are still out there braving the chilly wind.

What’s our secret?

First, we crave fresh air and abhor cycling to nowhere indoors. Then, we dress for comfort.

Cheating the wind and keeping warm and dry are our mantra. Layering and wool are our pals, and marino wool is preferred for its softness. Wool wicks moisture, so we wear that marino close to the skin. A company called Craft also makes great underlayments-- like a high neck pullover with a wind breaking front panel.

Then we pull our long sleeve jersey over the top. As the thermometer dips, we wear a vest over our long sleeve jersey. The vest breaks the wind around the chest and lets the sweat out the back and underarms.

Keeping our head warm keeps the rest of us warm. When it dips into the 50s, we don a soft wool cap beneath our helmet. In the 40s and below, we pull on a helmet cover to keep the wind out.

The howling wind can cause tinnitus and temporary insanity or worse. We prefer ‘Ear Bags’ to earplugs. The Bags keep ears warm and attenuate the rush that drives us nuts and prevents us from hearing vehicles approaching from behind.

Wool socks keep our toes comfy into the 50s. Below that, we pull on booties to cheat the wind. In winter, we buy toe warmers for a buck a pair from Farm & Fleet or Menards and stick em on our wool socks beneath our tootsies.

A light cycling glove works great down into the mid 40s. Below that, we pull on lightweight wind proof mittens over our gloves. We don't care to be texting while cycling in winter. We really don’t want to be texting while cycling period.

If we’ve forgotten anything, drop us a line. Just remember: Fresh air’s the thing, and indoor cycling is boring.

Finally, if we must hang up the bike, because we simply cannot cope with the wind and the chill, we don’t hang it in our unheated garage. We hang it in the warm dry basement. Otherwise, we’ll be visiting the bike shop next spring to replace a rusty chain and/or other moving parts.

Oro Strade Bianche

2011-10-11T06:46:00.000-07:00

We are in the midst of a wonderful Indian Summer. It is early October. L’Eroica riders are pedaling their vintage bikes over hallowed roads in Tuscany, and it is time to refine our handling skills on familiar and unfamiliar gravel roads around the Upper Left Hand Corner.

In the past we’ve written about the Glories of Gravel in Jo Daviess County, but this week, we stick closer to home. We discover that gravel roads take on the personality of their caretakers—the township road commissioners who maintain them.

These surfaces can very greatly given the material used and the attention given. A finer grade of top limestone can pack in nicely and be very tame indeed. We even rode our old ‘83’ Trek 760 East on Lamb Road to Farwell Bridge Road. We returned to Freeport on Maize Road and had an easy time of it with 700 x 23 Vittoria Rubino Pro tires. The Rubino Pros look more like a 25 diameter tire. They are very quiet, grip well, and are extremely tough—a good road tire on well maintained oro strade bianche.

We had an entirely different experience along Block, Silberman, Raders and Heitter Roads. The size of the gravel material is simply too large and has not compacted even months after the top surface was laid down in the Spring. These roads were barely passible on my cyclo cross bike and would have been a chore even on a my Trek 7000 mountain bike.

The township commissioner responsible for those roads is either unfamiliar with how to prepare and maintain a gravel road surface or just plain stubborn and sadistic—maybe both.

Nevertheless, we continue to ride our oro strade bianche (golden white roads), because they are sparsely travelled and scenic. Also, we can capture a bit of the heroic of L’Eroica right here in the Upper Left Hand Corner of Illinois.

Circle the Vineyards 2011

2011-09-29T07:50:00.000-07:00

I pulled into Galena’s Recreation Park half expecting to ride solo in this year’s “Circle the Vineyards”. The weather was hardly promising, but the 100 kilometer tour of wineries around Galena, Illinois would commence as scheduled.

This year, we invited riders of vintage steel bicycles to replicate the epic L’Eroica tour in Tuscany. We even made up a trophy—a steel lug welded to a spoke stuck in a walnut base. My 30-year-old Trek would be the only steel bike on this year’s “Circle”, so the trophy presentation will wait for another autumn.

Happily, as the 10 AM departure time drew near, Andrew and Bill arrived with their carbon fiber Treks, and after a quick photo shoot, we were away through town en route to our first winery twenty miles to the south.

To get there, we evaded the traffic along Blackjack for roads less travelled through Irish and Batey Hollows. These are hallowed roads in pastoral valleys where wild turkeys trot around the cattle.

We were obliged to tackle a very sharp 18% ascent on Irish Hollow. Without proper gearing we would have been off the bikes quicker than you can say Sram. If you plan to ride out here in this drift less corner of Illinois, remember to bring a small chain ring and a big rear gear.

Our reward at the top of the climb was a grand ridge-top roll along Rocky Hill Road. Our pace was civil, and we were treated to splendid Mississippi overlooks evoking Albert Bierstadt and Thomas Moran.

After a 14% grade above bucolic Hanover, we arrived at Rocky Waters Winery. Of our three wineries, this is surely the most picturesque. From the tasting room, you can look through a spreading oak across the Mississippi Valley to a wildlife refuge on the Iowa side.

In 1997, the Spahn Family planted vines in the cow pasture and began growing grapes. After four or five years, they were selling their produce to wineries like Galena Cellars and Wollersheim. Their winery opened a year before we rode our first “Circle”, which was three years ago.

Bill bought me a glass of their semi-dry Lakeside White and himself a slightly sweeter Log Cabin White. Andrew held back for Massbach Ridge but helped himself to a handful of Mrs. Sipps spiced almonds.

Rocky Waters reminds me of Elk Cove Winery in Oregon with its old oak tree and big view. This winery certainly inspired our “Circle” ride.

Our next leg to Massbach Ridge is eleven miles. We detoured north off Hanover Road on Pleasant Hill and took Reusch Road over to Derinda. L’Eroica covets their famed white limestone gravel roads (strade bianche) in Tuscany. Lovers of old bicycles come from around the globe to join Italians in their celebration of these historic roads and heroic racing in days past.

Reusch Road begins with a stretch of gold limestone road (oro strada). After a mile, it turns to chip-seal and rolls through a high meadow before descending into a capacious valley, which cradles a pleasing farm owned by the Sullivan family.

We arrived at Massbach Ridge Winery to find their grape stomping party in progress. Andrew was ready to treat Bill and me to a taste. Megan Block was delighted to take his nine bucks and pour us each a glass of vino bianco. Massbach Ridge’s crisp semi-dry Seyval really takes the edge off a dusty bike ride.

While we sipped, a friendly visitor from Ohio took our picture. She and her husband were part of a vintage Triumph sports car rally. The warm hospitality of this winery makes it a great destination. This is certainly a reflection of its owner, Peggy Harmston.

Alas, we passed on the grape stomp but grabbed a bunch each of concord and marechal foch. It was time to fill water bottles and push on to Galena Cellars twenty four miles to the north.

Our third leg of the “Circle” took us through Woodbine into the Apple River valley to a short section on oro strada on Grebner Road. From there, we ascended Hoffman Road to Elizabeth Scales Mound Road and were joined by lovers of chrome, leather and V-Twin power.

This country is made for weekenders on Harleys. Their “Circle” is much larger than ours, but double digit climbs and oro strade are off their map and happily so.

After a couple miles, we turned left and screamed down Rawlins Road, through Guilford back up Ford Road. After yet another 12% ascent, we crossed busy Stagecoach Trail and shot down the hill to Galena Cellars. There we saw enough parked cars to fill the lot at the Brookfield Zoo.

With a twinge of agoraphobia and a taste for that other beverage, I beckoned the lads ahead to the General Store at Council Hill Station. At long last, we could sit down, stretch out and trade viniculture for hops in a bottle.

By unanimous vote, we are renaming our event “Circle the Vineyards, & Have a Beer!” Council Hill Station is indeed a comfortable hang out. You are instantly treated like a regular once you discover the reach-in beer cooler. Then you can kick back and be entertained by local musicians, including the owner, Jamie, who used to run a tavern up in New Diggings.

Be warned of passing freight trains though. We were told Council Hill Station sits alongside the longest continuous railroad grade in the US, and trains may need to be divided to get up it. So where's the respect for pedal pushing drift less hill climbers? I can tell you this; we certainly did not fancy climbing back up to Stagecoach and prayed we wouldn’t have to shift our bicycles between moving freight cars.

Thankfully, the ethanol tankers passed by in short order, and we were up the hill on our final leg of the “Circle”. After a dip through the Galena River valley, the grand finale of our "Circle" is a long blessed descent on North Council Hills Road.

This year, we were a tiny band of brothers. But the weather and train parted before us, and we made new acquaintances with vintage sports cars, purple feet, and a harmonica.

FYI you cycling statisticians: my Garmin showed: 67 ¼ miles; averaging 13 MPH; and 5,300 feet of climbing.

DeLauney Delight

2011-09-16T07:14:00.000-07:00

I have no idea if Boris Delaunay’s triangulation theory has anything to do with the ride characteristics of a bicycle frame. Perhaps you “math wizards” would care to comment?

I had not heard of DeLauney until consuming a few beers on a roof top bar in Ann Arbor in the company of a gentleman who was math gifted, an Olympic class fencer, and a brilliant conversationalist. He was working to apply Boris’s work to the stress analysis of a computer generated solid model. Well, enough of that.

I have been preparing for our “Circle the Vineyards” tour around the wineries in Galena and Jo Daviess County. The inspiration for this event is the enchanting and rigorous bicycle tour through the Italian Tuscan countryside. It is called L’Eroica (heroic), and it rolls over pristine white gravel roads or Strade Bianche.

L’Eroica obliges its participants to ride only steel bicycles made in 1987 or earlier. Shifters must be on the down tube, and clip-less pedals are not permitted. The heroics are in the hearts of gracious folks who get their vintage bikes up and down the hills wearing woolen cycling outfits of days gone by. L’Eroica celebrates that old roads and old bicycles should never die but be always there for us to enjoy.

And so, on this spectacular afternoon, of 15 settembre, I set forth from Stockton to shake-down of my old 1981 Trek 412 for our “Circle” tour.

We were bound through Elizabeth via old friends like Brown, Pleasant Hill, Reusch, and Skene Roads.

In preparation, we modified the 412’s gearing for the serious undulations. The original Silstar crank set with its 42 tooth small chain ring was relegated to the parts bin. On went Sugino’s compact crank with only 36 teeth. Our expectation was that six fewer teeth would significantly reduce the grinding of our own dentures and knocking of knees in the hills.

Our first test was up the hill to Massbach Ridge. To my great astonishment, the 412 jumped to the climb like a Labrador pup to a lake. Pedals turned freely considering that we also retained the services of the 412’s original six-speed freewheel and its 30 tooth sprocket.

The next phase of the shake-down was to test the sturdiness of the 412s frame. This commenced, as we plummeted off Massbach Ridge on Bethel Road. Again, my admiration for this old Trek swelled as sure as you can cry “Ishiwata 022!”

Up Bethel we went to Brown Road and up again to stunning ridge top views before dropping into Woodbine. From there we contended with a very rough and torn Woodbine Road on our decent into the Apple River valley. Again, the 412 proved steady and safe as houses-- its old Dia-Compe brakes keeping things in control.
As we rolled along Apple River Road, the harvest was in progress, although one wonders what yields will come of it. Another serious flood this summer slimed the cornstalks and spewed gravel across the road surface. Nevertheless, the 412 pedaled along comfortably up to Elizabeth.

We entered town by the old fort, crossed Route 20 and continued out the west end on Pleasant Hill. Turning south, we tucked into some really bold rollers before hitting the hell of the Hill. Nevertheless, my old Trek steel bike continued its climbing magic.

Last year, I installed a longer Nitto stem and their sensational Noodle Bars. The stem is formidable and the bars are so ergonomic— a positive addition to the 412’s solid feel.

Speaking of ergonomics, the Brooks saddle Bill Leibman sold me off his Waterford touring bike was blessedly comfortable. The way we test a saddle is to ride it on hard roads for more than 40 miles. Admittedly, fit, level, and bike frame make a difference, but they are constants in this inconstant design of fabrications per il fanny.

Once on top of Pleasant Hell, we took the first left on an unmarked gravel road heading east. The road forks in about a quarter mile, and we stayed to the right on Reusch Road. When the gravel turned to chipped seal, I stopped to have a snack in the sun. The air was warm and hushed disturbed only by my chewing the granola bar. I crunched quickly and was again at peace on a beautiful road.

Reusch Road descends through the forest into a lovely bucolic valley. I rounded the corner passed the Sullivans’ farm-- the 412’s mischief factor greatly enhanced by Nitto’s bar and stem and the big flat RMX pedals. I simply stood my weight on the outside pedal, pressed down with the inside hand, and around she went tight as a trout on the line.

At the next corner, I could hear barking and see tails wagging, but they were well back off the road as I spun past up the long hill. The climb continued in earnest up Derinda Road. At the crest, I turned back east on Skene Road for another rush through the woods.

I thought of my friendly Butterflies (Jilly & Colleen) and our near miss of a deer when we last flew down this hill. Skene Road runs through yet another scenic valley and climbs steadily back up to Massbach Ridge for the run into Stockton. There are days when you don’t want it to end.

On Saturday, we’ll do a full dress rehearsal of “Circle the Vineyards.”

The Country Seat

2011-08-30T14:46:00.000-07:00

I'm feeling more at home on my dear old 83 Trek 760, thanks to a great new country seat.

Long have I lusted after a Stella San Marco Regal saddle. Typically Italian, it incorporates those classic buttons of a Brooks without looking clunky and overweight. Regrettably, the $100 price wedged itself between my fanny and the Regal.

Ahh, but then I ran into Nick Ginster at the Heartland Velo Show last Saturday. Nick owns a company called Fyxation, and he designs and markets cool products for the BMX and Freestyle dudes. To my great delight, Nick also has a saddle which looks surprisingly like the Stella Regal.

Nick's classic button saddle may not be quite as graceful looking as the real Regal, and it doesn't come with titanium rails. And the likes of Greg LeMond, Tom Boonen, and Stijn Devolder haven't ridden the Fyxation Classic Button.

But Nick's saddle was mine for a special Velo Show price. The classic button is a dead ringer for the real Regal. It is also clad in real leather. And most importantly, I have discovered that it is very very kind to me bum.

ABBANDONATO Schwinn Tiger.

2011-08-05T16:30:00.000-07:00

SCOPERTO (Discovered) in the front yard of Lance & Judy Barney.

DORMIRE (Sleeping) as a yard ornament near the Barney’s garage for two years.

RINNOVATO (Renovated) To new luster as a bespoke towne n beach cruiser.

We pulled the Tiger from the hostas and tore into it with WD-40 and my Milwaukee reciprocating saw. The stem was rusted through the head tube, so we sawed it off. The rest eventually came loose thanks to WD and a hammer.

We scoured the frame and then reprimed and finished from a can of Rustoleum's Hammered Metallic Verde Green paint. Other than the frame, nearly everything on this bike was beyond saving. Truth be told, I did have the crank arm, cloverleaf chainring and seat post clamp rechromed, but we'll save those for another project.

We painted over the white background on the head badge with metallic copper to give it that "beach" accent.

In all, about 300 bucks worth of new crank, chainring, bottom bracket, chain, wheels with Shimano built-in three-speed and coaster brake, tires n tubes, chrome fork, stem, handlebars with ergogrips, and a smart looking tan Bontrager saddle. Whew! Restoring an old bike isn't cheap. But we now have a one-of-a-kind beach cruiser to auction off for our community college's foundation.

Ooo, forgot the sweet flat peddles. Whether you ride in town or on the boardwalk, this Tiger will turn heads-- especially with your white standard poodle trotting alongside.

Alas, please take a step back as you admire the paint job.

Our thanks to Joe Dadez, at Freeport Bicycle Company for his collaboration in this renovation.

Also to Checkered Flag Auto Body and Troy Pukoj for a professional clear coat finish on the bicycle frame.

Day at the Bike Shop Sorting the 760

2011-06-27T14:44:00.001-07:00

On Friday morning after a thirteen hour drive from Evergreen, Colorado back to Freeport, Dave stopped at Freeport Bicycle Company to have Joe Dadez look over the vintage Trek 760 roadie he purchased from Bob Barones in Denver. This was a Fathers’ Day Purchase to last a lifetime, or at least through L’Eroica in 2012.

Before leaving Evergreen, Dave sought the good counsel of his boyhood pal and steel bike fan, Dan DeKoven. He also had time to look over some Campy jewelry in Dan’s parts bin, meet Dan’s two grown sons for the first time, visit with his lovely wife, Margaret, and enjoy a superb supper, good vino, and a soft bed afterwards. Oh, did we mention riding Dan's 94 Eddy Merckx up High Road to a stunning view of Mount Evans?

Dave and Dan concluded that the original racing blue paint was in pretty good shape. So eventually, Dave will remove the old decrepit decals and replace them with new.

So what did Joe and Dave accomplish at the bike shop?

Joe used his handy tool to straighten the bent rear derailleur hanger, and then he straightened the derailleur pulley wheel cage to keep it out of the spokes. Joe trashed the worn 7-speed freewheel and installed a 14-28 tooth 6-speed Shimano made in China along with a new drive chain to the proper length. Dan suggested Dave's old knees would favor having the 28 teeth on the hills.

Joe changed both brake cables and housings, and Dave cleaned up the brakes and pads.

Together, they cleaned and greased the Stronglight headset, and Joe tightened it for a smooth action.

Dave trued the front wheel and Joe the rear. Joe’s was truer. Then, Dave cleaned the wheels, rotated the tires and added new tubes. This lightened the bike considerably, as Former-Owner-Bob had injected green slime into the old tubes to avoid punctures and delays to his daily commutes.

Dave cleaned and greased the Cinelli stem repositioned their Giro d'Italia handlebar and the non-standard but very comfy Tektro brake levers. Now we have a sweet flat feel over the bar and hoods. We also like the look of how the drops parallel the down tube. Finally, Joe finished it all with beautiful silver wrap.

Dave cleaned and greased the LaPrade seat tube and replaced the non-standard ugly ( & too small) saddle with an Italian made-in-suede Turbo, which looks appropriate on this bike.

Now the 760 is solid and slick shifting, and what a sensational ride. At last, we have a superb Trek steel bike Made in Waterloo and another satisfying “Joe n Dave” collaboration. And thanks to Dan & Margaret for a lovely afternoon and evening in Evergreen, CO.

https://picasaweb.google.com/106097685508719356454/Trek760?authkey=Gv1sRgCKGCwrPPscqlnQE

The Krape Park Bridge Lives!

2011-06-01T12:12:00.000-07:00

We’d like to thank all those who helped keep the Krape Park Bridge open for foot and bike traffic. It is such a handy way to get into our lovely park from the neighborhoods on this side of Yellow Creek.

During the terrible flood last year, we walked over to gasp at the high water at least six feet above the bridge deck. We were even more anxious to see a large tree wedged against the west steel span. When it survived that assault, we knew we had one tough bridge.

The Krape Park Bridge is a classic “Pony Truss” design and is registered on the Bridgehunter.com website.

We have cycled over the Apple River on a longer three-span “pony truss” bridge on Georgetown Road just north and west of Elizabeth. That bridge was erected in 1890, and was eligible for the National Register of Historic Places. Sadly, the great 2010 flood took that bridge out.

These old structures are fast disappearing from our landscape. Many have been replaced by newer decking or have succumbed to ravages of age, flooding and neglect. We’re so pleased that the City and the Park District have chosen to try to preserve our sweet old bridge as a charming entry point to Freeport's most beautiful park.

Raleigh Cool Single Speed

2011-05-14T12:27:00.000-07:00

The Raleigh Record conversion to a single speed is done.

Three years ago I was in Freeport Bicycle Company talking to the manager, Joe Dadez, about a single-speed conversion project and asked Joe if he had anything interesting he wished gone from the basement. Up came a vintage mid 70s Record.

The Record was Raleigh’s entry-level road bike, so there was little need to preserve the entire package. Also, the frame had serious road rash, because this Record had been across the USofA three times.

Moreover, the lemon yellow and black paint scheme did not suit my English bike. It simply had to be British Racing Green.

So we repainted it BRG with a stealth charcoal metallic accent on the head and seat tubes and the fork blades. I had to use a pin to dab the red and black paint into the head badge. This was a shaky business, and the damned green paint proved prone to chipping.

So the steel frame and fork is all that remains. The rest were either: (A) purchased Additions or (B) from Bin parts on hand. I’ll hit only the highlights.

I love the Sram brake levers (A). They feel great beneath my hands just like the Force shift levers on my Madone.

The Biopace 42 tooth chainring (B) was inspired by Sheldon Brown. Sheldon was an exemplary authority on the bicycle, and he was perfectly correct. Biopace is how to drive a single-speed bike. For more on this, check out Sheldon’s Bioplace page at http://sheldonbrown.com/biopace.html

From my first-foot experience, peddling from a standing position on flat peddles is so much easier with Biopace. Your feet don’t pop off the peddles at the top of each stroke.

Now what you can't see in the photos is the magnificent Phil Woods bottom bracket (A) that compliments the Biopace to give the drivetrain its silky smoothness.

Other main components are Nitto handle bars (B) and stem (A) and the Tektro brakes (A). The Mavic MA 40 wheels were purchased used from Joe along with the Shimano 600 headset gimmie which is tight as new. It was remarkable the 600 headset threaded onto the Record's fork tube.

In all, this was an excellent collaboration with Joe who has helped me on a couple other conversions. Thanks, Joe.

Eureka L'Eroica

2011-03-14T19:16:00.000-07:00

When I shared a Vimeo video of L’Eroica with a good friend, he suggested I might rather ride a three-stage tour in Wisconsin if I wished to rip my legs off.

With all due respect to our more competitive riders, here is my answer:

Those who ride in L'Eroica must ride steel bikes built before 1984 with down tube shifters and no clip-less peddles. 11-speed electronic transmissions on carbon fibre bikes need not apply.

Those who ride L'Eroica sport kits like Fausto Coppi and Gino Bartali. Wool, not spandex, is de rigueur. Even modern helmets—though extremely important for safety—appear out of place.

L'Eroica's routes are over white gravel roads -- strade bianche. The Triple Crown no doubt is all tarmac.

L'Eroica is one stage only -- but one may choose grand 200K route to fill the day.

L'Eroica is a "happening." Triple Crown is a race.

L'Eroica is in Tuscany. Parma ham n cheese come from over the Apennines maybe 50 miles away, and the chianti is picked, pressed, aged, and bottled locally. Need we say more.

Ci vediamo a Gaiole in Ottobre 2012.

Lusting for the Feel of Steel and Other Substances

2011-02-02T18:21:00.000-08:00

I am continually enchanted by my Obsidian Blue Madone 6.5. Technology moves beneath me in a sensuous telepathic groove every time I throw a leg over and with every stroke of the peddle.

But, alas, when I swing, straddle and roll upon my sweet ole revamped Trek 412, or the rescued Giapponese Sanwa that strayed into my life, I’m all smiles.

Thanks to Bill Leibman (who also owns a Madone 6.5), these simple diversions on old steel bikes have become—well—how can one convey the appeal of what today are turned out only as works of art?

The answer came when Bill pushed me on to Robert Penn’s "It’s All About the Bike" where he chronicles his pursuit of happiness on the ultimate road bicycle.

And so, as we approach 65 aboard our glorious Trek carbon fiberology, we find ourselves still yearning. Perhaps, if you play piano, it is like striding Gershwin over the ivories of a Bosendorfer grand yet unable to quench a thirst for the Steinway just beyond your hands.

We ushered in 2011 with former teammate and dearest high school friend Gil (too close to Norwegian) Gulbrandson and his gracious wife Debbie (Don’t you dare refer to Indiana University as U of I, or I’ll kick you till you’re dead.).

As the New Year approached, Gil introduced me to his Victrola, along with a memorable collection of big band music, and his Waterford bicycle.

Hold it!

Did I say WATERFORD as in custom bicycle built in what was formerly Schwinn’s Paragon custom bicycle facility in Waterford, Wisconsin?

Gil’s Waterford is a light and lithe late 1990’s set-up, which our dearest high school buddy, Dan Dekoven discovered for him on “ebag” (sic.) for less than the cost of a entry level Trek street bike.

Dan creates lovely fine furniture and passionately restores old steel bicycles in Evergreen, Colorado. As I lifted Gil’s Waterford off the floor, I became instantly connected, and immediately emailed Dan and to ask why he hadn’t thought of me.

Little was I prepared for what transpired after that:

January 2nd, 2011

Dan: “I just acquired a 1994 Eddy Merckx Century frame on ebag (sic.). Paint is rough but frame is straight and rust free. Not too shabby for $280. Hope to get it built up by spring as I have most of the components left over from previous bikes. "Hello, my name is Dan and I'm a bikeaholic..."

Dave: "My God. Why am I missing these opportunities?

Perhaps I’ve been slow at the trigger, lacking in Ebay Savvy, and, yes, because I spent nearly $5 Gs on my 6.5 Madone not 1.5 years ago. Now I suffer through Bob Penn’s book and have for some time been transfixed by the work of an extraordinarily gifted artisan named Dave Wages of Ellis Cycles.

Now back to Dan and his 94 Merckx."

Dan: “I have a mixture of new and used Campy components for the Merckx - Chorus brakes, shifters and headset; Nitto stem, bars and seatpin; Veloce compact crank; new Athena11 speed derailleurs that my friend the bike mechanic said will work with 10 speed; and my Campy Proton wheelset. This is my 4th Merckx and I've regretted selling the other three - especially the MX Leader, which was #98 of the last 100 produced, so will probably hold on to this one. They hold a certain mystique for me... This one is definitely used, so has character.”

Dave: "Has Dan gone off the deep end? No, he is just really detailed passionate about bikes. In fact, when we rode the Santa Fe Century together last May, Dan was straddling his Waterford that he found on “ebag" (sic.) The color scheme is a bit unctuous, but, beneath the paint, it is a lovely bike nevertheless.

We continued our dialog after my dumbfounded concern about the headset on my own restoration of a Raleigh Record—something we’ll chat about later."

January 25th, 2011, expounds January 2nd’s conversation.

Dan: (Dave’s translation of Dan’s tech lingo) “I have the gruppo together. It's a mixture of various Campy components: Record (not Raleigh but Campy as in Campagnolo) headset, Centaur BB, Veloce compact crank, Chorus 10 speed shifters, Veloce 13/29 cassette and chain, Chorus brakes (Centaur, Veloce, and Chorus are all Campagnolo creations.), Nitto (Non e italiano ma Giapponese) seatpin, bars and stem, and new Athena (Campy also) 11 speed front and rear der. (derailleurs) that my bike guy says will work fine with 10 speed. Some new and some used off ebay or parts I had lying around. Bike mechanic just prepped the frame and I treated it with Framesaver before. I'll get it from him on Thurs. and sand out the rust spots before touching it up with Testor's (the company which makes paints we used to use on our model airplanes as kids). We'll probably put it together pretty soon before he gets busy.

By the way, another great resource that my riding buddy Greg turned me on to a couple years ago is www.probikekit.com. They're Brits (funny fellows with funny accents who are wild about anything remotely mechanical) and have the best prices (probably only in Pounds Sterling) I've found with free shipping all the way from England. The only hang up is that they ship via the Brit equivalent of Parcel Post combined with all the new tighter shipping regs. (homeland security provisions) due to package bombs (Brits take very seriously those who skulk in from the colonies not intending to play fairly by the rules of cricket.) - so it generally takes about a month to receive your order.”

Dave: "Gracious sakes alive. I cannot wait to try this Merckx out. Danny, I’m breaking off early from Linda’s family reunion in New Mexico and coming up to ride this re-creation.

Now, we move deep to absolute bottom of bicycle riding psychology. I temper my translations of Dan’s male anatomy jargon trusting that cycling adults will get the point."

Dan: “I see that you got a used Brooks for your vintage Trek. (This was a gift purchase from Bill Leibman who found the lovely leather too soft.) I'm a Brooks convert - currently have four of them. My only complaint was that, unlike modern saddles, there’s no accommodation for your balls on most models.”

Dave: “Wait, Dan. Are there accommodations for one’s balls on any saddle—Brooks or otherwise?”

Dan: “Actually that's not my only complaint - they take forever to break in. The B17 Imperial addresses this with a gonad cutout. I traced it and applied it to my other B17's and my Brooks Professional. I found that it definitely helps me. I'd be glad to send you a pattern and directions if you encounter a case of numbnuts (I don’t ride my 412 all that much and definitely don’t ride it more than 20 miles.). I also gave the Brooks Pro the Sheldon Brown treatment. Do you know about him? He just died, but was perhaps one of the most knowledgeable bike people around. He suggests soaking Brooks saddles in neat’s-foot oil (Mon dieu! I mistakenly thought it was motor oil). My bike guy and many other experts say this is not advisable (Admittedly, since Brooks provides their saddle softening lubrication) , but I like the results.

This is the kind of bicycle minutiae that the dudes at classicrendezvous will go about forever. I'm hooked. It's a nice diversion from the harsh reality of trying to survive as an artisan (Dan’s furniture is on a level with Dave Wage’s bicycles. These are two great artists and craftsmen.). At some point I hope to free myself from this attachment to the material - but not yet...

Don't get me started. Have they hung Lance Armstrong yet?”

Dave: So there you have it. We shall forever love and miss Sheldon and love to hate Lance. The allure of steel is and will be with cycling lovers until the Apennines come tumbling down.

Hard Lessons

2011-01-20T09:50:00.000-08:00

Last week, we received word that Richard Nicodemus was stuck and killed by a truck on a rural road east of Orangeville.

After his retirement from Kelly-Springfield tire company, Richard was smitten by the bicycle bug and became the aerodynamic recumbent protege of Tyger Johnson.

Richard was a soft spoken rider and always in a delightful place while he rode.

It is hard enough when fellow riders crash and are seriously injured as was Chuck Garrett last summer. Loose gravel on pavement at the bottom of a hill was Chuck’s demise.

At Richard's visitation, Chuck told me that while his wife, Janis, was in for knee surgery, Richard visited with Chuck as he was recovering in the room across the hall. That was Richard exactly.

Fellow rider Paul Heitz was sideswiped on Pearl City Road a few years ago, gravely hurt and very nearly dispatch from this earth. Bones were broken and a lung punctured. Paul was laid up in hospital but today is back on the road as active as ever.

Adam Schultz was returning home on Park Boulevard when a careless person blew the stop sign at Park and Empire and threw him up on her windshield. She had no insurance and little remorse. I guess Adam made her late for an elective college class. Adam’s surgical repairs are ongoing.

Peter Flynn was struck from behind in broad daylight by an elderly lady. She was so distraught that she nearly backed over him. Later, Eric Walser said the same lady brushed him, whereupon he chased her down and gave her a severe tongue lashing.

These close encounters are terribly unsettling but death is too final, and the only person who can say what really happened is the driver of the truck which killed Richard. He is Peggy’s neighbor and is taking it quite hard and will most likely live in a dark place for the rest of his days.

Riding bicycles can pose hard lessons. It is easy to lose our focus for self preservation as we drift into riders’ rhapsody. So our joy of riding begs a certain amount of circumspection.

I write this in the company of jazz pianist, Bill Evans, playing his “Re: Person I Knew.” It is thoughtfully haunting-- typical of Bill’s compositions. 

In and Out of the Canyon

2011-01-19T16:56:00.000-08:00

Packer fans are chomping their brats after soundly biting the Falcons beaks last night. And while the Bears were ripping out the talons of the Seahawks, I was pointing my cyclocross deep into the cold wild country where, as Yoda Yonda would say, “the owls screw the chickens.”

I’ve ridden through but never out of Apple River Canyon State Park. This seemed like an excellent place from which to explore new roads between Stockton and Apple River.

It was 16 degrees as I parked the Blazer in the lot. I lifted the Las Cruces out the back and began adding layers over my Craft tee and merino V-neck-- a hooded jersey followed by a fleece lined nylon vest, and finally my Patagonia lined ripstop hunters-hold-yer-fire orange shell.

Then, toe warmers to socks and booties on tap; puffy down gloves; and warm woolen cap. These are a few of my favorite things.

I rode east out of Apple River Canyon Park to Fiedler and turned south. After about a block, as Fiedler turns right, I continued straight ahead on Kupersmith Road. Kupersmith is paved down into the valley to the intersection at Rush Town Road.

“Let dogs delight to bark but not bite for God hath made them so.” A pair of honey furry golden retrievers trotted along side on my approach to Rush Town.

At the stop sign just across the little bridge, it was straight south up a very abrupt incline. After tackling that, I rode flat and curled back east to Rush Town Road along Kupersmith and Chelsea Roads. Several creeks run together chiseling solitary hollows around this loop.

Back at the intersection of Rush Town and Kupersmith Roads, we might have ridden straight ahead on Rush Town over to Canyon Park Road. Instead back turned north on Kupersmith up the hill past our fluffy tail waggers to Fiedler Road. From there we reached over to Canyon Park Road.

Circling back into the Park, we crossed the bridge, and turned left. My GPS measured 17% on the climb out of the canyon. On top, Canyon Park Road eases its way west to Broadway Road.

For years, I have passed by the south end of Broadway Road. On a whim, I drove it in the Blazer the Friday before and was delighted at my discovery. Broadway runs from the village of Apple River southwest and terminates at Townsend Road just east of the Boy Scout Camp.

After a couple easy rollers, the road dips into a quiet coulee and rises steeply out the other side around a corner near the Bonjour Farm. I was impressed with the grip of my Schwalbe tires and was pleased I had listened to Bill Leibman’s lesson on tire rotation.

In the next quarter mile the coulee converges with Apple River Canyon, and you look down on either side through tight naked woods expecting a buck or buckskin covered Boy Scout. In fact, I was close a place where people practice orienteering to build teamwork and leadership skills, and perhaps mix it up with the Scouts. It was tough terrain on a bicycle but I preferred riding on frosty gravel to trudging through the thick forest.

I squeezed the brakes down the hill to Townsend Road and approached my turnaround at the entrance to the Scout Camp. After slowing for a lady in a dirty cream Chrysler I came about. Alas, I cut handlebars too short. The snow clogged rear tire met the cold hard pavement, and, BANG, down I went. All the mummified layers failed to cushion my left shoulder from the fall. I prayed for my rotator cuff as I climbed back up Broadway and made my way back to the Park.

Maybe I should take up snowboarding -- eh, maybe not.

412 Revival

2010-05-28T10:44:00.000-07:00

This week, Joe Dadez and I revived my ole Trek 412 purchased in 1981 by yours truly.

The Brooks saddle came from Bill Leibman who just couldn't get used to it and graciously sold it to me. A new seat post makes for friendlier more comfortable adjustments.

Speaking of comfort, I took Bill's advice and installed Nitto's "Noodle" handlebars and their longer stem. Fresh brake levers permitted us to wrap the cables into the handlebars with Bontrager's simulated leather tape. The cocoa tape and honey brown saddle colors don't quite match-- yet.

The original Michelin tires still held their pressure, but to avoid flatting on Freeport's livelier streets, we installed new Bontrager tires and tubes.

My Vibram Five Fingers and Terra Plana "barefoot" shoes grip well enough over the MKS RMS Sneaker peddles from Rivendell.

Now, it's time to look for some touch-up paint. Master painter, Jason Sanchez from Milwaukee finishes Dave Wages' fabulous Ellis hand-built bicycles, and he suggested using Testors' model paint. Jason's good advice echoed that of my ole "geezer" buddy, Dan Dekoven, who rode his lovely Waterford with me in this May's Santa Fe Century.

Twenty Something Again

2010-04-25T14:05:00.000-07:00

This winter, I made a New Year’s Resolution to maintain some familiarity with hill riding in our Upper Left Hand Corner. On January 16th, we explored ghostly rural roads between Massbach Ridge Winery and Hanover. On Sunday, the 24th, we revisited “Twenty Something,” a route we blogged last May.

Twenty Something begins and ends at the Salem UCC church just up the hill from the Slurp n Burp in Loran. We named it Twenty Something, because there is something close to a twenty percent assault twenty something miles into the ride.

This January, we were in forty degree wool piercing nearly dreary “sun please appear” weather. A southwest blow squelched the tinnitus in my ears as I rode into the stately Val de Loran towards Mount Carroll.

In Carroll County, I happened to look over my left shoulder to see an ominous looking earthen dam holding back Lake Carroll. I turned back to the road ahead and instinctively quickened the tempo.

Then, a deep baritone growl invaded my conscious. Glancing down through the handle bars, I was horrified to see water gushing over my tires. The peddles now turned in great earnest as I struggled to keep my rims above the rising water. This was now a race to get out the valley before being swallowed by the deluge.

Then, miraculously, the water vanished, and I remembered the possible side effects from the Analox antibiotic I was taking for a pesky sinus infection—“hear voices, see things, or sense things that are not there (hallucinations).”

Relieved, I ascended the west wall of the valley and pressed through the wind to the corner at Meyer’s Road. Now, the blow barely hissed in my left ear as I rolled through the hills and valleys of one of the loveliest roads in the Upper Left.

Meyers Road is unique, because it doesn’t follow through or cross perpendicular to the valleys. Like the path of a great mogul skier, it takes an oblique path sliding over the dales. And so, you receive a different perspective of the surrounding hills and woods.

I confess to being cheeky about a certain training camp in last May’s blog. Only recently did I learn that Blackwater’s facility trains law enforcement people in special weapons and tactics with an emphasis on tactics.

Mark Marti opened my eyes to how critical this kind of training is to preserving our freedom from fear and intimidation. Mark is recently retired from Freeport’s Police Department, and he shared his experiences as a volunteer officer for the United Nations security force in Kosovo.

There he received several letters of commendation for bringing down some truly bad guys without so much as shot fired. While producers of movies and television sell heavy armor and gunplay, real law enforcement strives to shield innocent folks like you and me from becoming innocent casualties of desperate gunplay.

Mark’s experiences echoed stories I had heard from a former Captain of the New Mexico State Police Narcotics Division. While the Cohen Brothers’ No Country for Old Men may be gripping in its entertainment, it would be refreshing to see a factual treatment of the hours of training spent by those who keep us from harm’s way?

Always grateful for a tail wind, I pressed up the 20 (something) percent grade on East Loran Road. A sweet looking lady in a shiny new Chevrolet Traverse rounded the corner as I crested the hill. She gave me the look like, “wherever did you come from?” I don’t believe she was an Avalox induced hallucination.

Finally, it was all down hill to Loran past the Slurp n Burp tavern to the little church and the heated seats in my trusty slightly rusty Blazer, Ruby.

Byrne's Bicycle Diaries

2010-01-30T07:05:00.000-08:00

In his book, Bicycle Diaries, David Byrne circles his feet over his peddles and writes about cities he has visited around the world.

Santa Fe, New Mexico is as close as I’ve been to urban cycling. Even the central plaza in peak turista season seems a quiet neighborhood compared to Byrne’s experiences in Berlin, Buenos Aries, Istanbul, London, Manila, New York, San Francisco, and Sidney.

Although they impinge with all manner of vehicular and pedestrian traffic, Byrne finds these places worth seeing from the seat of a bike. Several cities, like Berlin, Paris, London, and New York are actively promoting bicycle use with special lanes, creative racks, and short-term rentals.

Recently in Paris, I saw locals in business attire straddling loaner bikes. Renting from Velib is as simple as swiping your credit card and plucking one of their bikes from the rack. Peddle into the Parisian traffic, and if you persevere for thirty minutes, vous payez rien.

I found Byrne’s socio-cultural, artistic, and, yes, musical commentaries thoughtful once we got through the Bush Bashing. This “Talking Head” has his views and is not bashful about bringing them along on the bike. But can you think of a better place to talk politics?

The author closes with a discussion of urban planning and future travels along the streets in his home town, New York City. He peers over the horizon where technology and legislators promise to curb automobile driving freedoms in Manhattan. And what will become of urban cycling if rallies like Critical Mass “cork” in the paths of others? Will we jeopardize control of our bicycles? More of that later, and permit me to digress.

The first time I saw the New York City was on a bright Saturday in my “72” BMW 1600. Riding shotgun was David Lipp, a fellow Army classmate who was born and raised in Chicago’s near north.

We emerged from the Holland Tunnel and drove into an empty financial district not yet shadowed by the World Trade Center. Then, only stately Trinity Church stood guard over Wall Street. Lipp and I waived off a proposition from una Madonna della strada and walked over to Fraunces Tavern where General Washington bid farewell to his officers. On the way, we passed Delmonico’s Restaurant, when a ghost appeared in my imagination. It was a cigar smoking Samuel Clemens eating sautéed sweetbreads.

Back in the Bimmer, we headed north on Lafayette where Midtown’s congestion swallowed us whole. I had driven in downtown Chicago but had never experienced anything like this cacophonous gridlock.

Lipp was a huge astronaut groupie and worshipped adventures in Outer Space. His eyes grew wide, and he cried out over the din, “I can’t believe they live here.”

Even after reading Byrne’s book, I tend to agree. Permit me to paraphrase Walt Whitman:

“Take your Manhattan streets with its powerful throbs, beating drums and the endless noisy chorus.

Give me fields where unmow’d grass, fresh corn and wheat grow and serene-moving animals teach content. Grace me with solitude and glorious hills as I cycle the Upper Left-hand Corner of Illinois.”

Call of the Wild

2010-01-18T19:35:00.000-08:00

I confess I have never read Jack London’s classic. How could Buck (a dog) be “called” from sunny Santa Clara to the greed-fed violent frozen emptiness of Alaska?

January had me hoping for a little sun and light winds to explore a few rural roads that caught my attention while glancing over the Galena & Jo Daviess Road Guide. When I “Googled” these roads, I discovered Fitzgerald Lake, which lies just below a long 15% climb up Gamble Hill. And so on Friday, as I drove back from Woodbine along well cleared Brown and Bethel Roads, my hope became a calling to the wilderness.

On Saturday, winds wheezed, and the predicted sun merely peaked through the foggy frost as I swung a leg over my Salsa Las Cruces at Massbach Ridge Winery. Massbach and Derinda Roads were clear as a bell, but what would we find on Heer Road? Ice? Slush? Slop? All three?

The air nipped my nose as I turned off S. Derinda Road. To my great delight, the surface of Heer Road was chip sealed with a just a dusting of snow, salt and sand.

Curtiss Hill Road was gravel but hard packed, and Las Cruces’ Schwalbe tires gripped with confidence as I descended into a hushed valley. Halfway down, I stopped to photograph a barn and met a Peacock clinging to the peak waiting, as I was, for the sun to show itself.

Around the corner, I turned left on Gamble Hill and soon was riding along the north shore of Fitzgerald Lake. At last, the sun appeared to punctuate a particular solitude and mystery which only occurs in the hoar frost of winter.

There is a story about the ghost of an Indian chief which appears around the lake in early morning. I shifted down and commenced climbing in ernest through dark woods up the steep hill to Hanover Road.

During warm easy June cycling days, we sometimes take nature for granted. Only in January when we scarcely have a day or two together can we say we were truly called.

Centurion Candidate

2010-01-01T09:13:00.000-08:00

Just this week, I engaged in an email debate with a dear friend edited as follows:

Dave, please circulate. I am in Colorado. Liebman may be interested, Rick Long and others. http://www.centurioncycling.com/

We've been talking about this, Lyle. The admission fee is pretty steep as I recall. We can have more fun on our Tour for Cancer Century and the Cercle les Vignobles for a lot less $ ($150 for the 100 miler) and raise money for a good cause instead of lining the pockets of organizers outside our community. Nevertheless, we'll pass it on.

Certainly this is a race not a ride.

No kidding?

It is patterned after similar events in Italy. For anyone with a few competitive juices this should be investigated.

Lyle, our Cercle les Vignobles is patterned after the L'Eroica epic event in Tuscany. http://www.eroica.it/index_en.php Come ride with us around the Galena wineries, and we'll keep your heart rate at a competitive level.

It is close and an event to aim for as we do our winter training and start our Spring riding.

The Centurion isn't until August. How bout joining us closer in June for a "tune-up" at the Tour for Cancer Century?

Remember Italy has been the home for the Giro for nearly a century.

Lyle, then let’s plan to ride the 15th stage of this year's Giro which starts in Mestre just across the lagoon from Venice and finishes at the top of historic Monte Zoncolan in the Dolomites. I've talked with Trek Travel, and they will rent us bikes for the occasion. Yea, for real! If you really wanna be a stud, forget Madison; go to Italy!

Happy New Year!

Epilogue -- By definition, a Centurion is a commander of an ancient Roman company consisting of 100 men. What I wouldn’t give to have 100 people riding the Tour for Cancer Century and another 100 in our slightly epic Cercle les Vignobles. That’s $4,000 directly to our Ferguson Cancer Center if our riders each donate $20.

Passed Winter Solstice

2010-01-01T08:09:00.000-08:00

We’re on the other side of the Winter Solstice, and the festival of light is upon us. Well almost.

Rain all day on Christmas Eve, and I circle Ohare’s terminal waiting for Katie and Scott to retrieve their bags. Meanwhile, Satchmo Louis Armstrong recites “Night Before Christmas” on the College of DuPage’s jazz station. Finally, my Santa Feans appear at Vestibule 3E, and we are off to the Upper Left-Hand Corner of Illinois through a steady rain and holiday traffic express.

It snows all Christmas Day and all the Saturday after. We have a houseful, and grandsons Luca and Massimo make enough noise to drown out all ten adults talking at once. This is Christmas at “Condo Fondo” and surprisingly not as cramped as Linda and I feared.

Outside, the snow thickens, and we join Luca and Massi for a Saturday morning sled. In late afternoon, flakes fade, and the western sky glows faintly pink. I manage 40 minutes on the trainer imagining I’m out on Schapville Road in the glorious hills.

Now it is Sunday—the first in the last two that we won’t be riding out-of-doors. Alas, I sit at the computer thinking it will be several days until we ride in fresh winter air. Meanwhile, we’re on the trainer with my IPod time transporter.

I let music dictate tempo and intensity. The Thad Jones & Mel Lewis Jazz Orchestra drives “Little Pixie.” This is big gear high rev stuff. I “scat” along, fly my head and shoulders, and give the legs their freedom. Thad’s fabulous arrangement is nearly eleven minutes long and fills the workout time with a big sound.

We switch genres and gears to Ravel’s “Walses Nobles et Sentimentale” with solo piano by Abbey Simon. For fifteen minutes, we ride from the Noble monumental “Modere” to the sublimely Sentimentale “Epilogue.” I visualize a delicate light in the French countryside.

Finally, Butterfly and Pinkerton sing Puccini’s “Bimbi dagli occhi piene di malia.” This most lovely opera duet attests that this love and all indoor cycling are temporary. I am transported from a view of Yellow Creek to Nagasaki and hence to Tuscany.

So what would otherwise be 40 minutes of drudgery pass joyously through rhythm and imagination. Now, please let the sun come out and the thermometer rise.

December Kit

2009-12-26T08:47:00.000-08:00

It is a December Sunday morning following 16 inches of snow in our Upper Left-hand Corner of Illinois, and as I read my morning email, I receive one from Jilly.

“Are you riding today?”

“Are you serious?” I reply.

“It’s 33 degrees, and I wanna play.” She replies.

Now she has me thinking. Why not? Here’s a promise of fresh air and time to try out two new acquisitions from Rivendell Bikes.

Form most definitely follows function at rivebike.com as exemplified by their ST gloves and possum wool bicycle hat. The gloves are like a lofty down sleeping bag for your fingers, and the “possum” tea cover fits nicely under a helmet, shelters ears entirely, and has a nice little bill to shade your eyes on a bright winter day.

So we’re off on Salsa cyclocross through slush and salt. As I ride behind the Meadows Mall, I’m surprised to find that the ice has nearly vanished, and Fairground, Park, and Becker School Roads are clear as well.

I meet Jilly, and we get in an invigorating twenty mile ride. Only our feet feel the chill.

The ST gloves are like riding barehanded in June. Forget handlebar muffs and lobster gloves; these do the trick for $30 plus shipping. And the possum bill stocking cap is light, soft and warm. Maybe by keeping body heat from escaping the lid and fingertips, we’ll get extra miles from tootsie toes. Bravo, Rivendell. Best fifty eight bucks I’ve spent on winter wear.

So, I guess this is not so much about Jilly and Dave’s excellent December 13th ride. After all, trying new winter gear nudged us out the door in the first place. Nevertheless, a glorious ride, Jilly!

Now, what about winter après cycling? Today’s ride was full of salty sand and wormy road guts, calling for a Salsa scrub afterwards.

Out comes Linda’s watering can to wash Salsa in frigid winter quicker and easier than a garden hose. I dribble warm water over the bike, and rub down lightly with a fleece mitt. Than we dry with an old towel and re-lube from a spray can of Boeshield T-9—another Rivendell miracle.

I first learned of this friction fighting wonder from David Bell at MelloVelo in Santa Fe, New Mexico and rediscovered it on Rivendell’s site. Boeshield is a great all purpose lube for bikes, and slicks up our garage and Chevy Blazer doors when WD40 and lithium grease leave the squeak. Google “Boeshield T-9” for details.

And about our feet; our cold numb feet after our winter ride? No matter! We pull on Keen’s new Winterport II boots while cleaning Salsa. This is truly our acquisition of the season. We feel Birkenstock support inside these warm dry light weight slip-ons which grip the ice and snow like Blizzaks. These boots are it. Unfortunately, they are not available in women's sizes.

And so, this is a Sunday December story (perhaps too commercial). Winter riding brings the joy of outdoors after a stormy confinement. Inevitably, sunlight will clear the roads, and all will be well again.

Crossing to Safety

2009-11-01T06:42:00.000-08:00

I borrow this title from a novel by Wallace Stegner.

We have dear friends who just returned from a cruise of the Danube. They left the country while Judy’s mom was sick with pneumonia. She needed to stay in touch, and thanks to the rapidly developing digital world, she was able to pop into an internet café or otherwise borrow a laptop from a shipmate.

One rainy afternoon, I shared a beer with Mida Smith. Among other things, we talked about a bicycle ride she and Tim took across the USofA in 1999. Mida reminisced that, “It was the greatest feeling of freedom I’ve ever had in my life.”

On one hand, we have the digital connection on the Danube, and on the other a near independence from that sort of thing across the Kansas plains.

When I ride my bike, my mobile is always on in my back pocket. But I beg only a silent comfort. Otherwise, when it rings, the aggravation level rises to distraction. Jilly Whiting’s phone invariably rings at least three times while we’re riding. Then we must endure repeated reminder beeps.

We are children with digital toys. We must have them, and yet we reject these tools when we seek our freedom of solitude.

The other day, a young man rode his hot crotch rocket past my condo. Looking like Tom Cruse in Top Gun, he dismounted and immediately pushed up his shades and flipped open his phone. Solitude done; back to the world. Or one's internal vision of one's world?

Here’s a thought. We could ride our bicycle from Freeport to LaCrosse, Wisconsin. Certainly, some of those rural roads run through hills inaccessible to the cellular net. Then if we have a problem, we must seek out a stranger to visit with. Perhaps this is partly what Mida meant by feeling freedom.

Is it an opportunity to solve problems on one’s own or approach a stranger on a personal level and gather a smile. How self satisfying this can be as opposed to a raucous too familiar flip phone stuck in your ear and a vacuous too familiar conversation.

Sandals for US

2009-09-08T18:52:00.000-07:00

August 17, 2009

Shimano American Corp.
1 HollandIrvine, CA 92618

We love your first generation cycling sandals and are terribly sad they were discontinued.

Please consider bringing back the original design. It was better looking, much lighter and stiffer than the big bulky thing that succeeded it.

We love it far more than any other sandal we’ve owned. Jilly particularly likes the open toe, cause she can tan her tootsies.

Best wishes,

Dave Fonda and Jilly Whiting
Chainlink Cyclists Cycling Club
Freeport, Illinois

Fausto the Obsidian

2009-08-16T15:06:00.000-07:00

The Cash for Clunkers is on, and we’re all taking (or being taken on) a ride.

I have a few ole Clunkers in my stable—my trusty, slightly rusty, 2001 Chevy Blazer for one.

Then there are: my 1981 Trek 412 (my own first bicycle purchase); a recently restored late 70s Motobecane Grand Jubilee (a gift from a barn in New Hampshire); an in progress Raleigh Record (a gift from Joe Dadez, which has been across the United States three times); and a dormant Schwinn Varsity (a gift from Eleanor Chance, which weighs as much as the other three bikes combined).

What am I to do with all these clunkers? The only one which has any hope of fetching clunker cash is the Blazer. But to give that up is to acquire another thirty grand of debt to a Japanese Toyota Prius or the new sleeker Honda Insight.

No. We need to buy American and take nary a farthing from our struggling fellow taxpayers. And, mark you, we need to remain fit and fulfilled into the bargain.

As we approach sixty two and enter the great internal struggle, which would it be?

The American-made carbon fiber wonder of the Pro Cycling Tour or the artistically lovingly hand-shaped steel from the Mecca of custom bicycles to the east Waterloo?

In June’s Tour for Cancer Century, I had the delight of riding with Dave Wages who crafts bicycles in his Ellis Cyclery shop in Waterford—once the home of Schwinn’s Paramont custom shop. Dave luggs at the hearts and desires of those who adore what only a true artisan can provide.

However, time is rolling rapidly away from my body’s ability to keep pace. Technology, spinning, and abstinence from Blue Moon and vino may be the only answer to the grim advance. Spinning is too early in the AM, and abstinence from golden foam and fragrant red is unthinkable. Trek held hope—and not just any Trek, but the Madone endorsed by the Great American Armstrong himself as customized by their Project One programme— a simply obscene Obsidian Blue Red Carbon 6.5 in all it’s elegant simplicity.

This bicycle greets one with a paint job which is free from graphic distractions and appears as deep and mystical as Lake Tahoe. Obsidian has the power to heal and make young. Faust (Fausto) himself could ask for no more. And the new Madone comes with the endorsement (viz. peer pressure) of more than a few of our fellow Upper Left Hand Corner of Illinois riders.

“It is the best investment I’ve ever made,” claims Eric Helm. Eric passed his beloved Serotta down to his son and found new wings on his 6.5. Fred Shappert strapped on a new electric blue Fizik saddle and tactile bar tape on his 6.5 and sold his 5200 on Ebay even to the envy of that greedy Cote from Huh knee well.

Then came Rick Long, who only two years ago was on an old steel Columbia with enough weight and road rash to make one groan on or alongside the saddle. First, Rick bought a suitable LeMond aluminium. Then, he trekked to Madison only to return with a Baccetta recumbent. Finally, the Lorelei Madone lured Rick smack dab into the promise of carbon fiber.

Now, that same siren has claimed the Fausto within me. And so, not unlike Doktor F. himself, I traded a small portion of my trust for the hope of continuing (pray lingering) youth. Ohh, to be swifter, fit and free from the dread of what lies ahead!

Mind you, this is the ultimate stimulus package: A USA made in Waterloo, Wisconsin Trek Madone Obsidian Blue frame & fork replete with Sram Force components from a company headquartered in Chicago, Illinois USA and Race X Lite wheels, tires, brakes, stem and handlebars made by Bontrager— owned by Trek USA.

Perhaps this isn’t really as risky as Goethe’s tragic obsession. This could be a patriotic celebration of all that is good and clean about the American dream. For what is the risk if the return on investment is at hand or peddle.

I recall purchasing an IBM Personal Computer back in the early 80s. As advertised by Charlie Chaplin’s silhouette, that piece of windowless word-bound technology cost me well over five grand. Imagine what its power represents by today’s standard. And instead of getting me out of doors into the fresh air, this technology drew me into its royal blue vacuum tube.

Basta! I will not further remorse this decision. The deed is done. I have turned my back on the Clunker junk money and struck a deal with my local Freeport Bicycle Shop on a pride of America purchase. It is my fantasy, my trust, my life. Now, it truly is time to lick the plate clean

Pour Cercle les Vignobles

2009-07-12T09:13:00.001-07:00

Most Chicagoans think of Illinois as farm country flat. On weekends, thousands stream out of the Windy City for the lakes in the North Country. We bike riders haven’t yet mastered the miracle of riding across water, but we do know there are spectacular roads in the Upper Left Hand Corner of Illinois closer to Chicago than Wisconsin’s lakes.

The choicest of these routes meander around the Galena, and some of the most scenic pass by three vineyards which have grown to maturity in the Upper Left during the last decade.

Last autumn, I had it in mind to ride my bicycle along these peaseful roads and visit each of the wineries on a kind of tour I’ll call Pour Cercle les Vignobles, or Circle the Vineyards. The Saturday on Memorial Day Weekend seemed the perfect time to reconnoiter la route. The weather cooperated with moderately warm temperatures and light winds—a splendid day to explore les vignobles, meet nice people, and enjoy a wee taste at each destination.

Leaving the trusty Blazer at Galena’s park on Stagecoach Trail just east of town, I rode immediately to Kayte’s Coffee shop to fuel up on a cappuccino fortissimo. No artificial additives please; just two shots of rich espresso and foamy whole milk.

From Kayte’s we headed out the south end of town on Blackjack Road. Blackjack can be tediously busy and not at all pleasant for biking unless you have a shiny chromed Vee Twin between your legs. So, we detoured left on Irish Hollow Road which flows into Rocky Hill Road and rises up upon a ridge line above Blackjack. To get on top, prepare to climb a 15% to 18% grade which might put you off the bike if you aren’t suitably geared or trained.

Your reward is to roll easily along beneath the shade trees free of traffic with an occasional belle vue over the Mississippi Valley. Cross over Blackjack Road near the ski hill and ride towards Blanding Landing. As you drop off the ridge, squeeze your brakes for a hard left turn on to Batey Hollow Road. This is another lovely bucolic road which will take you back up to Blackjack. From there, ride Blackjack down to Hanover and follow Route 84 through town.

At the southern edge, as Route 84 fades to the right, ride straight ahead and prepare to climb up Hanover Road—about 11%. After you crest the hill, the large limestone gate marks the entrance to Rocky Waters winery. The Spahn family has been growing grapes here for nearly 12 years and just recently opened their handsome tasting room which overlooks the vines and majestic river valley to the southwest. The setting looks like it dropped out of Oregon, but from here you can definitely see Iowa.

Departing Rocky Waters, continue east on Hanover Road over to Derinda Road. At the top of the hill, turn right and ride into one of the most beautiful valleys in the Upper Left, and peddle out on a long steady grade to Massbach Ridge. The road surface is smooth—an excellent opportunity to settle into a nice tempo and pray not to be unnerved by the raucous Vee Twin Harley’s.

Roads like this are Hog Heaven on weekends. But no matter; they pass by quickly, and we’re back into our thoughts and the rhythmic rotation of peddles.

As Derinda tops off, turn left at the sign pointing to Stockton and Mount Carroll and left again towards Stockton. Massbach Ridge winery is just up the road. While not as spectacular as Rocky Waters, this winery has developed a great following over the years.

Today, Peggy Harmston’s tireless work on her terroir is paying off with a remarkable Reserve Red. And that is exactly all I tasted for the day. Peggy was entertaining guests, but took time for a photo with the Chianti Kid. Thereafter, it was time to face the challenge of the route to our final winery.

Continue towards Stockton about a mile or two, and hang a left on Skene Road to take you back over to Derinda Road. The descent off Massbach Ridge on Skene is a total scream. My friend Dennis Robinson has easily topped 50 MPH down this hill on his Baccetta recumbent.

Not surprisingly, the climb back up to Derinda is equally steep. On top, turn right for more steady climbing north to Terrapin Ridge and busy US Route 20. Cross over 20 and plummet into the Apple River Valley on Becker Road.

At the bottom, Becker flattens out and rides easily over the Apple River on a concrete deck which was once an old steel “pony trussed” bridge. We’re now on Goose Hollow Road which narrows and serpentines through yet another picturesque valley up to Shaw Road. Turn left, and climb Shaw over the only gravel stretch to the Elizabeth Scales Mound blacktop.

Like Derinda Road, Elizabeth Scales Mound is smooth tarmac, and has been surprisingly devoid of traffic the last three Saturdays I’ve ridden it. The tree line also scrubs off the stiff northwest winds we’ve been braving in the Upper Left this Spring. We’ll continue north on E-S Mound to Rawlins Road and turn west.

This was one of the few times I’ve had the pleasure of going down Rawlins Road. Instead of slugging up the18% face, we flew down and continued west over Gilford Road to Ford Road. Turning right on Ford Road, we trudged back north up to Stagecoach Trail for our final vineyard.

I had considered a couple extra climbs en route but passed, as I had never been on Ford Road or to Galena Cellars for that matter. The next few miles confirmed a wise decision.

I arrived at Galena Cellars off a sharp hill on the north shoulder of Stagecoach Trail. This oldest of wineries in the Upper Left Hand Corner of Illinois was more humble than I expected. And the view to the Northwest across the vineyards and the Galena River valley is lovely indeed.

Galena Cellars was a buzz with visitors packed inside the tasting room, touring the winery, or otherwise sitting in the shade outdoors enjoying the splendid view. I dearly wanted to flop down in one of the vinyl Adirondacks and join them, but legs stiffened their warning to respect the steep hill back up to Stagecoach Trail.

Unlike Derinda and Elizabeth-Scales Mound Roads, this stretch of Stagecoach is well populated by vehicles of all kinds. So, we cautiously glanced over our left shoulder on our decent into Galena.

Our departure on this journey round the vineyards began with coffee at Kayte’s. If you haven’t tasted enough along your Cercle les Vignobles, may we suggest Jamie Carroll’s Wine Studio? Jamie’s is on the north side of the street a block or so west of Kayte’s.

You can sit in her tasting room, or browse for a bottle to take home.

So now the seed has finally been sown, and we’re planning to organize our first Pour Cercle les Vignbles during the fall harvest. If anyone is interested, please send a comment or email me at cycleupperleft.il@gmail.com.

Jilly's Trek 5500 Now On Sale

2009-07-03T10:10:00.000-07:00

One spin on this bike, and I ask myself, why is she selling it. Compared to my 2100, this 5500 is a rocket. It probably is a combination of lightness, stiffness, and drivetrain. Duh!

The 56cm frame is just a bit cramped but not at all uncomfortable. This bike has a dream ride compared to my 2100. The bumps just melt away.

The JillyTrek has a 52/39 DuraAce crankset, and the arms are a shorter 172.5mm compared to my Bontrager 50/36 compact with 175mm crankarms. So, when I step on it, the bike really shoots ahead.

Joe Dadez and I did some basic clean-up of the bike. I had a nice Bontrager saddle, and we installed new cables and cool carbon fiber lookin housings and retaped the handlebars black. I also added a nice Bontrager black bottle rack with black bolts.

The DuraAce gruppo feels more positive than the Ultegra on my 2100, and the Mavic Cosmic Elite wheels are light and tough. But the paintjob on this bike is really cool. It was done by Metal Specialties with a mirage dual tint metalic paint that changes color in the light from green to purple.

This is also the first time I've ridden a bike with real aero bars, and it is slick feeling like Lance or Levi in the TTTuck.

All in all, this is bike will bring a lot of smiles to someone for a Mille Cent.

Tour for Cancer Century - 2009

2009-06-29T04:56:00.000-07:00

This past Saturday morning was busy around the Pretzel City. The Pretzel Fest was in full swing all over the city, and the Kids Triathlon at the YMCA were the headliners.

It was also the sixth year that avid cyclists straddled their bikes and headed into the west country on our Tour for Cancer.

Most rode the beautiful 115 mile course through the communities of Lena, Warren, Stockton, Mt. Carroll, and Pearl City. Some opted for a shorter 30 mile ride through McConnell, Buena Vista, and Scioto Mills.

This year, the Grand Century reached further southwest into the hills along Massbach Ridge and Elizabeth Roads into Mt. Carroll. It was a scenic tour de force, as the sun broke our cloud cover, and the southerly winds intensified, as the heat of the day rose into the 90s.

Thankfully, the wind pushed us back up Loran Road towards Pearl City. I slapped on more sun block and packed extra ice in my water bottles. On the way home, I poured as much water over my head as I drank.

As a side note, custom bicycle builder, Dave Wages of Ellis Cycles, joined us from Waterford, Wisconsin astride his beautifully repainted steel cyclocross bicycle. Dave won the best lugged bicycle award at the North American Handmade Bicycle Show this year. It was fun riding with Dave and hearing him talk about his craftsmanship.

We would like to thank all our riders who came out and graciously contributed to the Ferguson Cancer Center. Our Tour doesn’t require an admission fee, and we don’t hand out Tee shirts. Our riders come for the love of peddling long challenging miles in our lovely Upper Left Hand Corner of Illinois. They come for the camaraderie, and each helped our local Ferguson Center combat Cancer.

Because of the absent mindedness of yours’ truly, nearly half of our contributions were temporarily lost. But a very thoughtful honest gentleman returned them to us through the Freeport Police Department.

Thanks once again to mio amico, Chuck Beichel, for helping mark the course, and a special thanks to Joe Dadez and Ann Mattson from the Freeport Bicycle Company for their technical assistance and support for this year’s event.

Hope to see you all again next year.

Peggy in the Rockies

2009-06-20T14:26:00.000-07:00

Our diva of ladies cycling fashion was spotted recently as she flew across the Rocky Mountains of Colorado. Our man on the scene caught up with Peggy, but only briefly as she dusted him up to Monarch Pass.

Lyle hung on, caught Diva at the top, and sent back a couple of great photos. Now the entire cycling world knows of her haute couture. Instead of strolling down a runway at the House of Chanel, Peggy gave new meaning to the French word haute by peddling up the big Rocky passes.

Formidable, Mme. Badgett.

Twenty Something

2009-05-16T16:11:00.000-07:00

This Sunday is as good as it gets. “It’s tulip season again, and I’m oh so happy.”

Last week we had a bit of blackwater fever—much ado about something related to that murky paramilitary organization which operates a training facility for police SWAT teams deep in the undercover bowels of the Upper Left Hand Corner.

My instructions were not to spend too much time on the bicycle, as grandsons Luca and Massimo were in town. So, I decided to encircle the Blackwater Camp along a lovely hilly 25 mile loop which I will christen the “Twenty,” because the last and best climb is just past the 20 mile mark.

We start at the church just north of the Ville de Loran and head south through the Val de Loran then up a big hill towards Mount Carroll. At Meyers Road, we’ll turn north, and roll easily. The crabapple, tulip, and redbud trees pop out red, pink, and purple blossoms as we head over secluded hills and valleys past Skunk Hollow Road leading up to the training center. Why don’t they call it Skunk Hollow Camp and hang a set of whitetail horns over the entrance?

After a spectacular series of hills n dales, Meyers Road intersects with Route 78 which runs between Mount Carroll and Stockton. We turn right and head down a long hill into Heavenly Valley for about a mile where East Loran Road turns east up a nice gradual incline towards the “Twenty.”

Just past the 20 mile mark, the hill kicks up to around 20%-- well maybe 17%? I’ve learned not to place too much stock in my GPS when it comes to gauging the incline of these hills, but my legs felt like it was indeed “Twenty.” So that's where we'll leave it.

So after an hour and three quarters, we’re back in the Blazer and heading home to wrestle with Luca and Massi.

Tube Tales - Gettin Gassed

2009-04-26T07:29:00.000-07:00

At our Spring Banquet of the ChainLinkCyclists, I was asked to enlighten our fellow club mates on the advantages of carrying a couple small CO2 cartridges and a filler attachment instead of the tried and true traveling pump.

I was using my Bontrager regulator attachment, in the demonstration, which I thought only fit Presta valves. These are the smaller diameter stems found on most bicycle tubes today.

I noticed that we were not entirely successful in fully pressurizing our demonstration tire, and meanwhile, my fingers and palm were starting to get frost bite as we repeatedly released the gas from the cold cartridges.

During the demo, the most asked question from the audience was, “Do they make a cartridge filler attachment for a Schrader valve?” Now the Schrader valve is the one we all know when we fill our automobile tires with air. It has a larger diameter than the Presta.

I said I suspected that such things were on the market and referred my charges to Ron and Joe at the Freeport Bicycle Company table across the room.

Not a week later, while riding with Peggy Badgett out of Stockton, I got my answer.

As we descended into Apple Canyon Park, I blew a big hole in my new tube inside my new tire. After getting the bike under control and off on the shoulder, I reached into my kit and pulled forth my regulator and a CO2 cartridge in eager anticipation of showing my prowess at filling the new tube.

After expending two CO2 cartridges, the pressure was still so low that it would have been impossible to get back. Peggy was considering going on ahead to retrieve me in my Blazer. But, as an afterthought, she produced her very trusty pump, saying she did not like cold hands either. In no time, we had the tire up to pressure and continued on out of the park and over the Binkley Bonk into Stockton.

For all my trouble, Peggy bought chocolat milk shakes, and we reviewed the necessities of bicycle carryons.

On the drive back to the Freeport Bicycle Company, I was considering giving up on the CO2 system and getting a pump just like Peggy's. Joe replaced my exploded tube. He said he'd be happy to sell me a new pump, but suggested I use a Presta to Schrader adapter the next time I used my filler attachment. Opps! The missing component in my kit?

The following Tuesday afternoon, Jilly and I had a good laugh over this as we pushed through the grisley westerly wind at Bump n Jamb. She urged me share it on the blog.

So, si tutti, the regulator attachment does fit a Schrader valve. In fact, I have one along with my Presta adapter.

MiddleMarch

2009-04-19T08:13:00.000-07:00

The earth is still in browns, yet another mild March weekend holds the promise of greener times ahead. The hills beckon, and we are back out to Stockton with bike in Blazer.

This time, we’re on the cyclocross Las Cruces heading northwest out of town along gravel roads bypassing a big climb up Binkley and a relatively busy Canyon Park Road.
In layman’s directions, head north on Park Road, jog west on Binkley, and continue up Park Road and another jog west then northwest up to Townsend Road.

Once over the hill, we cross Canyon Park Road and continue west on Townsend Road which, wavy of surface, can be busy with vehicles to and from Apple Canyon Lake.

Finally, we drop into the valley across the Apple River. We ride to the stop sign at Scout Camp Road and climb north up Scout Camp to the first left which is Schapville Road. We sigh relief and shed impatient traffic on our way west to the hamlet Schapville.

March legs stiffen in the hills over two climbs before we arrive at a favorite Upper Left Hand village. Just past the church at the intersection of Stadel and Shapville Roads, we turn right on Mill Creek Road.

Now, we truly are free of the beaten path as we ride northwest over chip and gravel in the midst a lovely long valley along Mill Creek. The rock outcroppings and trees offer cool shade in Summer, but this is March, and the sunlight sparkles through the naked canopy as we ride easily in bucolic splendor. Last Fall, Peggy Badget, Dennis Robinson, and I celebrated Dennis’s birthday along this road on our way to New Diggings.

Too soon, we pop out at Elizabeth Scales Mound Road and turn left. Immediately, our legs awake to an arduous grade as we head south towards Elizabeth. Just past Shapville Road, we take the next left on Menzemmer Road and cruise southeast on a long descent.

At the intersection of Stadel Road, which leads back up to Schapville, we continue straight into the gravel on Menzemmer. Back on the chipped surface, it’s up the hill to Hoffman Road. We turn left on Hoffman and left again as it meets Goosehollow Road. Caution is advised on the descent into the corner before Hoffman intersects with Grebner Road.

Keeping the creek on our left, we ride south on the Grebner Gravel. We don’t turn left over the bridge at Salem Road but stay on Grebner until it curves left across the creek and climbs over the hill and the new bridge over the Apple River. At the stop sign, we turn left on Apple River Road and ride east to fork at Woodbine Road and thence up to Woodbine. Once there, it is the third right at Brown Road which crosses Highway 20 and heads south along the east side of the golf course.

At Center Road, we could turn left and ride straight back over to Stockton. But we’ll continue climbing up Brown Road until we reach Baugh Road. Then we’ll loop around Baugh to Eden Road back down to Center. The Las Cruces helps us explore beautiful hilly gravel roads like Baugh and Eden. The Maxxis cross tire on the back wheel grips the gravel over the rollers back east to Stockton.

March Encore!

2009-04-19T08:08:00.000-07:00

It is nearly spring, and the oatmeal land could hide a deer or a Weimereiner relaxing in the warm dormant grass anticipating Spring. In March, our senses are magnetized with anticipation of the coming season. The pull to get outdoors is irresistible.

Here’s a special 35 miler to jump-start your cycling season. Unless you’ve put some miles under your legs, you may want to stay out of the big chain ring for the first 20 miles.

Our preference would be to stop at Karen’s in Stockton for lunch beforehand then hop on and head west on Front Avenue to Golf Road. Follow that south to Center Road which will take you west over to Massbach Road. Continue south to the next stop sign where Massbach turns right and west up your first climb.

Once over, you’ll find a couple of nice rollers as Massbach Road begins to head southwest along the preeminent scenic ridgeline in the Upper Left. Enjoy the open country as you head over to Bethel Road, then turn right and scream down Bethel into the valley which cradles Rush Creek.

Later in the season, you may be tempted to loop back up to Massbach Ridge on Gras Road, but this is March and no time for madness. So exercise patience, because our next climb is just ahead, as Bethel Road rises up to meet Brown Road and a big view of Terrapin Ridge.

Continue on Bethel down across Little Rush Creek towards another long climb up to Terrapin Ridge. At the stop sign, you’ll find Derinda Road as it intersects with US Route 20. Turn left, and ride south on Derinda Road. You’re heading over three long grades averaging about 9%. This is March and a perfect opportunity to build up your climbing legs and enjoy the smooth tarmac and wide rolling khaki hills wooded in sepia and burnt umber.

This time of year, you ride in the leafless trees full of light and the land beyond. From April through October, Derinda is among a favorite Upper Left road for folks with big bellowing “V-twin” chromatics between their legs. But we leg propelled have merely to endure a steady hiss of the warm southern wind in our ears.

Derinda Road becomes Ridge Road at a junction where we turn left over to Massbach. At last, the wind is in our sails as we turn left and head back along Massbach Ridge to Stockton. If you need to fill a water bottle, stop at the winery, and marvel that Peggy Harmston can turn water into Ridge Red.

The Promise

2009-02-15T14:00:00.000-08:00

An azure Sunday Morning
Looking for cycling out of doors.
Legs willing, but spirit cautious
As I settle into a cold leather chair
Espresso in hand
And look out at the white field.

Certainly, the sun will warm this Sunday morning’s earth
And clear roads after Friday night’s snow.
But what if clouds drift over?

Each beginning of the cycling season
Holds promise and uncertainty.
This sunny Sunday morning, I’ll bask in the Promise.

With Promise clearly in mind, I loaded Salsa Las Cruces into my trusty Blazer, Ruby, and schemed my way over to Loran Valley via Mill Grove Road and Owl’s Glen.

I disembarked at the Loran Church and headed south then west on East Loran Road. It was time to ride over some hills.

Up until this morning, most of our rides have been along tame terrain. So this was the first grade test of the season, and it didn’t take long to feel the strain in legs and knees.

We had a short respite as we dropped into Heavenly Valley. Then we turned north on Route 78 and met “The Hawk.” The unyielding north wind drove in its talons, and I was forced into the small chain ring or seize up altogether.

But once in a rhythm, the promise of a good ride returned. Turning back east, I was delighted to be along Willow Road again. This is one of my favorite routes in the Upper Left Hand Corner. Today, “The Hawk” nearly spoiled our pleasant reunion as we approached the Willow United Methodist Church which hosts a “folksy” version of Woodstock each August. Check it out at willowfolkfestival.com.

It was total drudgery on the roll up to Airport Road, but now we were headed directly east. “The Hawk” released its talons and we flew away.

Our Sunday Promise realized, it was time to let the endorphins flow through our spirit and scheme more stories as the season progresses in the Upper Left Hand Corner.

Finally a February Thaw

2009-02-11T16:34:00.000-08:00

I guess you could say Sunday, February 8th, was our first official “big outing” of the year.

January was pure winter freeze your face off with no hope of any window of opportunity to ride a bicycle out-of-doors. Thankfully, February opened with the promise of better cycling days to come. A few of the intrepid Andrew “Diet right” wannabees were ready and chompin at the peddles during the first week. Then came Saturday the 7th, and then Sunday at the ole HCC rendezvous!

We were the ChainLink Eleven -- Dennis, Bill, Marsha (We believe that was you underneath the black mask.), Steve, Bill, Paul, Richard, Dave, Chuck, Mike and Andrew with camera in tow for the group photo. Nice pic of the goofy cyclocross snow pile climber, Andrew.

We rolled out a nice leisurely early season pace down Pearl City Road to Van Brocklin. Once around the corner, friendly Sunday riders started falling off the back when a frisky fella on a recumbent challenged a couple uprights. Was that really a head wind? I was too busy gasping for air.

Our ChainLink Eleven cleaned Casey’s General Store out of all their coffee, cocoa, and other human propellants for the return trip. Now we really relished the wind at our backs. Marsha (Our Masked Lady) pulled us back to Freeport in good fashion.

Ahhh, Spring is just around the corner. Maybe.

Glories of Gravel and Old Steel Bridges

2009-01-20T18:07:00.000-08:00

We are blessed with an abundance of paved scenic cycling roads in the Upper Left Hand Corner of Illinois. Many stretch south and west from the village of Stockton through Massbach, Mount Carroll, Savanna, and Hanover. They also extend west northwest through Woodbine, Schapville, Elizabeth, and Galena.

Stockton has been home base for my favorite playground this season as we continue to explore challenging roads in the company of fabulous scenery.

I had been riding my Salsa Las Cruces cyclocross bicycle on road tires, although this versatile bike’s standard kit calls for narrow knobby off road tires. In autumn color with the 2008 season drawing to a close, I felt it was time to strap on the knobbies and explore the roads less traveled.

On a mild November Saturday, we started in Stockton from Northwest Eyecare’s Clinic and rolled west to Golf Road and south to Center Road. Center goes gravel just past the north junction of Massbach Road. It wasn’t long before we’re in “driftless” country untouched by ice age glaciers and graced in bucolic splendor.

Before Woodbine, we turned southeast on Eden Road for a climb up Baugh Road. This road is a gem you won’t visit on road tires. Still with knobbies, the Salsa was challenged up steep gravel.

A cyclocross bicycle combines the lightness of a sporty road bike and approaches the terrain versatility of a mountain bike. The drop handlebars provide more comfortable hand positions, and the drivetrain is geared to gobble hills. My Salsa was built up by Ron Mattson at Freeport Bicycle Company who finished it off with beautiful set of tough DT Swiss wheels.

Riding in the forest along Baugh Road, you are treated to long views through the trees on either side. At the intersection of Baugh and Brown Roads, a grand panorama spreads out ahead. When riding over these ridgelines, The Cream’s Jack Bruce sings in my head, “She’s gone, but I don’t worry, cause I’m sittin on top of the world.”

We turned south on Brown Road then slid off the high ridge to Bethel Road and west into the valley. This is a long glide followed by a steady peddle up to Terrapin Ridge. My large chain ring has 48 teeth and mates well to long easy grades like this. But there’s feisty finale on the approach to Route 20 compelling Las Cruces’ lowest gear.

Once across busy Route 20, and over Terrapin Ridge, you’ll scream down Becker Road into the Apple River valley. Like the run up, the steep descent soon moderates and you'll cruise easily into the woods before arriving at Apple River Road. Here, we'll turn west up to Elizabeth over a crescendo of rollers.

The most direct way through Elizabeth is to turn right on Route 20, and follow that around the corner. Route 20 forks to the left, ride straight ahead on Main Street down Georgetown Road.

Georgetown Road shortcuts across Elizabeth Scales Mound Road and intersects with Longhollow Road. Along the way, you’ll traverse the Apple River on a rickety old “Pony Truss” steel bridge. This is one of the few remaining steel spans over the Apple River. It was built around 1890 to a length of 200 feet and is eligible for the National Register of Historic Places.

Sadly, this span is endangered, and its condition is ranked by Bridgehunter.com as follows: “Inspection (as of 03/2008) -- Deck condition rating: Fair (5 out of 9)--Superstructure condition rating: Critical (2 out of 9) -- Substructure condition rating: Poor (4 out of 9) --Appraisal: Structurally deficient -- Sufficiency rating: 14.6 (out of 100)”

We were cautious not to catch a tire in the split planks and avoid being pitched into the Apple River. Once across, we exhaled a sigh and headed out of the valley over Elizabeth Scales Mound Road and down Longhollow.

Just before the Equestrian Center, we turned right on Clark lane which climbs in spurts to a high ridge at the eastern edge of the Galena Territories. Clark Road continues over to Rawlins Road, but we turned right on Wachter Road and left on Morley Road to bypass the huge climb up Rawlins to Elizabeth Scales Mound.

Often, we have returned to Stockton across the ridge through Schapville. But today, our knobbies pointed Las Cruces down Menzemer Road in search of more gravel.

On our decent beneath Schapville, we followed Menzemer to Hoffman Road. Continuing south and east to Grebner Road we rolled south across a wide concrete deck which until recently was an old steel trussed bridge spanning the Apple River. Surely, as funding permits, these old bridges will disappear forever.

Back in the Vallee de la Pomme Riviere, we turned left on Apple River Road east into the gravel towards our second old bridge crossing. This 143 footer was also built in 1890 and is classified as a “Through Truss” design. Bridgehunter.com says the May 2006 inspection yielded similar dismal results. “Deck condition rating: Poor (4 out of 9)-- Superstructure condition rating: Serious (3 out of 9)-- Substructure condition rating: Poor (4 out of 9)-- Appraisal: Structurally deficient-- Sufficiency rating: 18.4 (out of 100).”

Before these old steel bridges head to the scrap yard, we’ll cross ourselves, light a candle to the Blessed Virgin, and ride happily over these delightful old spans.

Once over Old Steel, you may turn left and continue up Apple River Road to Scout Camp Road. But in search of new gravel, we went right on Welsh Road following that over to Scout Camp. From here, we jogged north on Scout Camp and continued east into a pretty valley on Welsh Road. Eventually, you emerge to a Tee at Logemann. Avoiding Route 20, turn left on Logemann and right on Townline back to Canyon Park Road. From there, it’s south to Binkley and over the Big Binkley Bonk back to Stockton.

Bridges, a Bonk, and a whole lot of gravel along the way. A cyclocross bike is a huge kick to ride as you explore the really rural roads in the Upper Left Hand Corner of Illinois. We increased our repertoire of routes and improved our riding skills. The Salsa Las Cruces has been a Really Outstanding Investment.

The Santa Fe Century

2008-06-29T12:42:00.000-07:00

It has been well over a month since we rode the Santa Fe Century. Yesterday, we completed our lesser known but equally inspiring and aspiring Tour for Cancer Century here in the Upper Left Hand Corner of Illinois. So, it is time to catch up.

After a week of cycling in Northern New Mexico in preparation for the Century,
I drove down to pick up my race packet on Saturday evening, the night before. My confirmation number was 497. But 497 was nowhere to be found, so one of the fuzzy faced veteran organizers pulled out number 2800.

So, I’d guess that at least 2,000 riders rolled off the line at Saint Vincent’s Hospital on Sunday morning.

We worked our way along Zia Road towards the Turquoise Trail (Route 14) which winds its way through the Ortiz Mountains and the eastern slope of Sandia Mountain to Albuquerque.

The wind was out of the northwest as we glided south along Route 14 through the Ortiz and the old mining town of Madrid (pronounced Mad Rid). This is the colorful hippie art colony which captivated the producers of Wild Hogs starring John Travolta. Today the Harley’s were in the minority as we peddle pushers rolled through.

The climbs through the Ortiz are long and steady, and the road surface was in excellent condition. The Turquoise Trail is a vastly more scenic and relaxed way to travel between Santa Fe and Albuquerque if you have the time. And we had all day to enjoy the views as we rolled happily along at 26 mph. More than once, I was awakened from my mellow zone by a tandem flying by with eight or so bikes on its wheel.

Just south of Golden, we turned left on Route 344 and proceeded to chug up the biggest bump in the road. Heartbreak Hill kicks to 19% after a mile approach. I stopped at the top to visit with local Firemen supporting our tour and watched my fellow riders zigging and zagging up the steep grade. One gentleman protested that he was trying to save his knees. I pointed down at my 32 tooth cog and suggested he “get one of these.”

I brought my Salsa Las Cruces cyclocross bike out to New Mexico specifically because it is better geared, tougher, and aesthetically more suited to the Southwest than my Trek 2100. My dear old knees thanked me for it.

Once over the Heartbreak, Route 334 winds its way down through the pinon and juniper trees into the flatlands. It jogs back west to Cedar Grove and drops down to Route 472. From there we headed dead east on the flats over to Route 41. This is sparse ranch country on a broad plateau. In spite of incessant cranking, there were few vehicles and many opportunities to draft behind other riders.

On our way north from Stanley to Galisteo, the snow capped Sangre de Cristo mountains rose up. In the distant Northwest, the Jemez Mountains were majestically framed by dark rocky mesas in the foreground. Such vistas are the reason this Century ride is so special.

In the midst of all this grand scenery, the village of Galisteo was a welcomed rest stop after four hours in the saddle. In contrast to the tin roofed frame bungalows in Madrid, Galisteo is a typical New Mexican settlement where adobe abounds. It is soft and friendly with art galleries and a very nice bed & breakfast. I vote this best rest stop.

We rode north of Galisteo to Lamy and turned left on Route 285. After a long climb up through the huge Eldorado development to Interstate 25, we commenced the most uninspiring section of this Century. We rolled along a very wide shoulder on I-25 with cars pulling campers and boats and trucks roaring past. It was time to tune it all out and hammer back to the finish at Saint Vincent’s Hospital.

The Santa Fe Century was the grand finale to a beautiful week of cycling in Northern New Mexico. Santa Fe is a bike friendly town, and for the most part, the residents are courteous towards peddling turistas.

Early on Monday morning after a great big juicy steak at the Bull Ring (courtesy of darling daughter, Katie), we hopped in the Passat Wagen and drove straight through to the Upper Left Hand Corner of Illinois. It took me three days to recover.

Via Cundiyo My Darling

2008-05-25T07:30:00.000-07:00

Last May, we rode a very smart looking Eddy Merckx carbon fiber bike up to the serene El Sanctuario de Chimayo northeast of Santa Fe, New Mexico. (See Pilgrimage to El Sanctuario de Chimayo.) This year we were back in Santa Fe in preparation for their famous Century ride.

We arrived on Mothers’ Day Sunday and spent the afternoon visiting with mia madre, Dorise, e figlia, Katie. It was a day of celebration and acclimatization. The altitude in Santa Fe is 7,000 feet, and during the first couple days in the high country, one must demonstrate a certain amount of respect.

On Monday, Katie and her friend, Scott, treated me to a hike up the mountain trail above Rio En Medio in the high hills above Tesuque. Kate and Scott do a lot of hiking and snow shoeing in the mountains, so ole Dad tagged along pacing himself, enjoying the streams n waterfalls, and hoping the hike would benefit his days in the saddle.

On Tuesday, dad was back on the bike heading up the long hill from Nambe to Chimayo. But this time, instead of turning left down to Chimayo, I continued up NM 503. The road climbs in fits and spurts towards 7,000 feet and descends into a beautiful valley and the hamlet of Cundiyo. Then it’s back up 400 feet out of the valley. Once over the top gorgeous views spread forth in every direction before you scream down a series of switch backs into Rio Chiquito. I could smell the brakes burning in protest as I hung on for life, limb, and skin.

At Rio Chiquito, 503 joins up with Route 76 between Espanola and the hill towns along the High Road to Taos. As I circled back through Chimayo, I vowed to be a man and return to the big climb out of Rio Chiquito to Cundiyo.

New Mexico was bone dry from little or no spring rain when I arrived. But Wednesday showed the promise of precipitation in the west over Los Alamos and the Jemez Mountains. I set off towards the grey clouds and Los Alamos in hopes of riding a 30 mile loop around White Rock and Bandelier National Monument. You can begin this ride in Los Alamos or turn off NM 502 on Route 4 and park on the wide shoulder near the intersection of Route 4 and East Jemez Road.

The route rolls easily over to White Rock. Then you descend lazily to 6,200 feet and gradually climb back past the entrance to Bandelier about 12 miles to 8,000 feet before returning Los Alamos on Route 501. Just past Bandelier, it began to rain. Ahhh! Damn!

Oh well, it was still a great ride in spite of wet socks, etc. Too bad we couldn’t enjoy the scenery from Bandelier to Los Alamos.

The rain increased steadily from Wednesday night into Thursday. My legs welcomed a break, and we used the time to recon the Century Route. The thirsty desert came alive in the blessed moisture, and our dry dusty Tano Trail turned a quagmire in the steady rain.

Friday dawned blue, as the desert spilled forth fresh fragrance. It was time to become a man. We pursued a rite of passage reversing Tuesday’s ride in order to face the climb from Rio Chiquito to Cundiyo.

I again parked in Nambe just up 503 from the main highway between Santa Fe and Espanola. We began with a very smooth gradual climb from 5,800 up to 6,200 feet before dropping into Chimayo. El Sanctuario was full of tourists, so I continued up the road to Route 76 and turned right towards Truchas.

My plan was to loop back up on 503 at Rio Chiquito. But my legs felt fresh as the desert flora, and Truchas lay only 6 miles up the road. Actually, it was 6 miles and nearly 2,000 feet, as Route 76 rises in little fits and big spurts. For the most part, the local traffic gave me a wide berth as I trudged for Truchas.

This legendary Spanish settlement and Hollywood movie set perches on a high plateau beneath the tallest mountain in New Mexico. It is a safe haven for the decedents of the penitential Spanish conquistadors and a small colony of artists. Anna Kerin’s gallery is located in an old Spanish chapel just above the main part of town.

I walked into the old chapel and chatted with Craig Scogin who taught photography at the Art Institute in Atlanta. His work was exquisite (www.desertlens.livejournal.com) and another artist displayed very cool bells fashioned from old gas cylinders.

Riding down off the Truchas plateau is long and fast with the wind rushing through Frank Weldele’s custom fitted ear plugs. I smoked brakes on the approach to Rio Chiquito and turned left on 503. Suddenly it was wonderfully quiet and peaceful, time to collect myself for the knee buckler of the day. According to the GPS, the climb is a third of a mile culminating at 18%.

Now, we have the firm of Binkley, Gras, and Rawlins here in the Upper Left Hand Corner of Illinois…..but not at 7,000 feet. It was a delirious thrill to master this climb, and be rewarded with a splendid aroma in the valley cradling Cundiyo.

Two 16% spikes out of Cundiyo, and I sailed down to Nambe ready for Sunday’s challenge on the Santa Fe Century.

Jilly Does Da Mud

2008-04-08T09:54:00.000-07:00

Dis is da mud Jilly will be runnin in on April 19th. Minnesota's version of April snow.

Good luck, Jillyfish!! Wear some old beat up shoes!

Ahead of the Season

2008-03-19T19:40:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Carl "Chuck" Beichel for sharing last Saturday's ride to Monroe.

Saturday at 11:30 a.m. four hungry, cold “Chain Link Cyclists”walked through the door of Baumgartner’s, one of the must stops when visiting Monroe, Wisconsin. Chuck Beichel, Mike Perry, Dennis Robinson, and Chuck Garrett had just struggled their way through snow-pocked hills against a cold northeasterly to reach their goal: Baumgartner’s with its delicious bratwurst, cheese sandwiches and hot soups. They quickly stripped off their damp outerwear and got down to business. The food was great and the service quick. Beer sounded tempting, but the boys figured it wouldn’t serve them well for the 26 mile return trip. They guzzled water instead, for during the 32 degree trip they hadn’t consumed much.

The Chain Linkers had left Freeport at 9 a.m. and had taken the eastern route up Henderson, Bolender, and Schueyville Roads. Nothing but cloudy weather, hills, and cold hindered their progress until they found themselves winding through the wood that surrounds the intersection of the road and the Jane Addams-Badger State Trail. Two large patches of ice forced them to dismount and “skate” their way forward. Then, with a little friendly sunlight they rolled into Monroe and their goal.

At noon, as the Linkers redressed themselves in the outerwear, they looked forward to the helpful sunny sky and the encouraging northeasterly wind. They were delighted as the wind pushed them down the western route: County P, County HK, Hulbert, Damascus, Scioto Mills, Winneshiek and home. But being Ahead of the Season takes its toll. Fatigue and muscle ache set in. This was the first ride of the season for Lightning P-38 rider, Garrett, and Perry was on his new Bachetta for the first time! Riding his Trek Pilot, Beichel was struggling with neck and shoulder discomfort. However, the highly conditioned, competitive Robinson raced off easily in his typical fashion and left his fellow Linkers to their work. The three others slowed to a comfortable pace and arrived in Freeport at about 2:40 p.m. Goal achieved! The Chain Linkers wondered whether any club members had made this 55 mile trip earlier than March 15, the Ides of March. Certainly it was a ride far Ahead of the Season.

Cycle Antarctica

2008-03-06T14:27:00.000-08:00

We had yet another Sunday among the drifts, as Andrew, Chuck, and Dave turned out at Highland College. This winter, any day you can get out on your bike is a special day. So the three amigos headed west up Saben Church Road on a favorite 30 mile loop

At points along the route, Andrew managed to snap a few photos to commemorate the ride.

This winter, we've been doing more drinking than riding. Our Thursday afternoons have been spent at local watering holes as we bemoan the continuing cold and snowy weather. Thankfully the Guinness at the Fieldstone and Eilerts has brightened our spirits.

Team Freeport Attacks Tour of California

2008-02-22T12:14:00.000-08:00

Led by our own Bill Leibman, Team Freeport went on the attack at the opening of the opening of the Tour of California.

Bill's son Chris lives in Palo Alto, which hosted the prologue this year. He managed to get his father and brother, Adam, into a charity event that ran just prior to the real race featuring the top US and European racing teams.

Rumor has it that Austana and Slipstream riders were distinctly agitated when they saw the Leibman boys go off the start. No professional wants to be upstaged by proletariats.

Click on the link below for news coverage of the prologue before the prologue. Team Freeport is about 10 minutes into the video clip and you can skip to that point once it loads – make sure your sound is on.

http://cbs5.com/video/?id=31332@kpix.dayport.com

Sloppy Super Sunday

2008-02-03T20:02:00.000-08:00

Today is Super Bowl Sunday, and for extra February fun, we planned a bicycle ride. After all, we had a new fender to try out, and the weatherman promised a sunny Sunday.

The weatherman turned on us, but we had our fender and the fresh air beckoned, so off we went to meet whomever at Highland College. That turned out to be none other than Andrew Soria, our intrepid cycling commuter. I was delighted to have Andrew’s company and not at all surprised to see him turn out on a day like today.

We headed west on Pearl City Road and angled down through Owl’s Glen to Loran Road. Though it was 25 degrees, the tailwind made for a very comfortable ride. Andrew is always one for good conversation, and he’ll ride any pace you please.

We followed Loran past Route 73 west up to Lott Road then turned south. Now the hills and wind made their presence felt. Turning back east on Saben Church Road, Andrew was ready to don his balaclava. Unfortunately my soft little Smartwool was home, but I had plastered my puss with olive oil testing an old Italian secret on cold weather skin protection.

Cycling alone in weather like this is a real pain and a bit foolish. Andrew and I switched off the front making a lousy situation tolerable. Our buddy system confirmed that any day riding outdoors beats riding inside on a trainer. Even spin class took a back seat to winter riding on this sloppy Super Bowl Sunday.

Thanks for the companionship, Andrew.

Jillyphant's Winter Woes

2008-01-18T11:03:00.000-08:00

We all have our woes in winter and especially when we are laid up with a cold or an ailment when we could be out in the winter sunshine on our bicycles. Here's a tale of winter woe from our own ChainLinkCyclists club president, Jill Whiting. Given the lousy road conditions of late, this is probably the best time to be off the bike.

"I am injured right now and so depressed. How did I get injured?? Would like to come up w/ a better story (climbing Nepal, on a polar bear expedition, even cleaning the bathroom) …but the real story – sitting in a car (for waaaay too long!) . I am ALWAYS telling KB my body has a tough time in a car – now I am really gonna be adamant about car rides. Started with a big bump on the back of my knee (I diagnosed myself (how’s that for scary!) with a bakers cyst….but then my whole knee blew up….now it’s my calf – elephant leg! And I’m getting a “cankle”! Sooooo painful. The doc checked that it wasn’t a blood clot (wasn’t) – but then just blew me off. So I called to go back (tomorrow 9:45 am) and I’m going to be much more aggressive. I’m hiking Grand Canyon in 3 months. I need my leg back!

Oh well, thanks for letting me whine (like you had a choice!)"

~ Jillyphant

Across the Top and Into the Past

2007-12-02T10:30:00.000-08:00

In May of this year, I received an email from Elizabeth Taylor. This was astonishing.
But another glance at the subject line read “Conference Point Camp Reunion,” and Beth Taylor threw open a door in the heart of my adolescence.

I fired back the usual “Wow!” and “What’s happening in your life, and by the way, I’ll ride my bike over.” Then began the usual anticipation and preparation. Beth needed help locating other camp staffers. I looked for several and found two.

I was eager to take my Salsa cyclocross bike. The Las Cruces is rugged enough to tote panniers, laden with clothes, shaving kit, camera, I-pod, and road food, in style and grace. We removed the off-road rubber and resoled Ron Mattson’s beautifully built DT Swiss wheels with our favorite Bontrager Race Lite road tires.

My pilgrimage to Conference Point Camp took me north through Afolkey and across Hickory Grove, Walnut Grove and State Line Roads all the way east to Wheeler Road which turned back south to Yale Bridge Road. If you’re planning a ride over to Lake Geneva, there’s a boat landing on Yale Bridge Road just across the Sugar River where you’ll find water and a potty.

Yale Bridge Road continues straight east over to Bluff Road and the Rock River. A short jog north over the river on Prairie Avenue, and we were in busy traffic. Crossing Routes 2 and 151, a detour took me up the west side of the Interstate to a busy Route 75 interchange. Traversing the interstate, the traffic thinned as we continued north on a new four lane boulevard. At the stop sign, we turned right on Highway 67.

Highway 67 continues east past the Beloit Airport. Gliders glistened like huge gulls on this sunny blue Friday. We crossed into Wisconsin and followed County Road P.

County P angles northeast across Highway 140 just south of Clinton where it intersects with County Road J and Northrop School Road. We turned north and rode up Northrop School to Lake Shore Road. This road took us straight over to Fontana. Several years ago, we ran the 18 miles on a hot Saturday morning and were grateful to dive into Lake Geneva at Fontana Beach. I was happy to be on my bike this time.

Lake Shore is a pleasant road freshly surfaced in spots where I remembered it being very hard on hot feet. It is also flat, and my luggage laden Las Cruces rolled happily along as if under its own power.

Lake Shore Road becomes Brick Church Road at the big brick church three miles west of Fontana. We carefully crossed over US Highway 14, and cycled up Six Corners Road to Willow Bend Road. Willow Bend took us straight over to Route 67 just southwest of Williams Bay.

It would have been easy to turn north on 67 and ride that into Williams Bay along the smooth wide shoulder. But the lure of a scenic route took me down the hill towards the lake on Stearns Road. Alas, my loaded panniers were a real drag on the climb back up the hill on N. Lakeshore Drive. This took me back past the entrances to George Williams College Camp (now Aurora University) and the grand entrance to Yerkes Observatory.

Just as West Geneva Street and Route 67 bare left down the hill into Williams Bay, we rode straight ahead on Congress Street in front of the old school and turned right on Colle Street and left on Conference Point Road. We followed Conference Point Road down to the very end and the camp.

I had ridden 80 miles and was making a much anticipated grand entrance. Only nobody appeared to be around to applaud the arrival. I cycled up the steep hill to the Administration building and walked inside for the first time in 40 years.

Conference Point Camp has changed. Summer hire college and high school students who tended the grounds and beach, cleaned the cabins, washed dishes, and served meals to the large groups attending the camp are now gone. In their place are caretaking and catering professionals.

This weekend, the “camp family” returned to reminisce about past friendships and personal lessons working at Conference Point. Frankly, without the hustle bustle of young fresh staffers, the camp looked a tired and forlorn.

Today, TLC of so many buildings is much more expensive, and visiting group receipts are down from the days when this place buzzed with hundreds of campers and staff.

But Conference Point is still magical, and Beth and Dave walked up to the main chapel across from the dining hall to ring the dinner bell in the tradition of the good old days. After dinner, we savored Lake Geneva from the promontory and walked through the lonely grounds and large vacant old buildings sharing memories of our staff family.

On Saturday, our small camp family headed up the hill to tour Yerkes Observatory, the sprawling ornate spawning ground for astrophysics. I elected to go in style on my trusty Las Cruces taking extra time to roll about the handsome park surrounding the observatory.

On Sunday, I bid farewell to Beth and her family and pointed Las Cruces towards Freeport. The light drizzle turned to a steady August rain, and my thoughts floated over such a peaceful weekend reunion. Turning south from Davis towards Winneshiek Road, the sun peaked out to dry my sopping discomfort.

If you have the urge for a long weekend retreat on your bike, follow the route over to Conference Point. Their web site is www.conference-point.org.

Remember Floyd

2007-11-08T17:34:00.000-08:00

It's been over a month since our last post. Working really gets in the way of writing.

So tonight as I browsed through Getty Images' wetsite, we happened on a series of photos of Floyd Landis, our tragic 2006 Tour de France champion who's crown and title are now tarnished by a doping scandal which haunts professional cycling.

As we look across Floyd's facial expressions together, you be the judge.

Thank you, Getty Images, for preserving millions of photos of thousands of human stories. Truly, you are a repository for our collective civilization.

Peggy Badgett's Reminiscences of Cycling in Oregon

2007-10-03T05:07:00.000-07:00

Close your eyes and imagine your favorite dream (no, not THAT one!) of riding your bike along winding roads with breathtaking views of thick green forests, rushing streams, and beautiful mountain passes. Your powerful legs spin the cranks as you float up steep grades and fly down the other side. You awaken every morning to fresh crisp air and the smell of breakfast cooking, ready to spend the whole day on your bicycle exploring a new part of the country you have never visited. At night your head meets your pillow with stars shining down upon you after rehashing the days events with friends over dinner and a few beers. Only you pinch yourself and realize it is not a dream, you are riding “Cycle Oregon”.

Cycle Oregon is an organized tour of relatively uncrowned country roads, fully supported. The caravan includes a traveling kitchen, semi trucks hauling stainless steel showers and outdoor sinks, tents for open air dining, vans of bicycle mechanics, a stage for each night’s entertainment, and of course dozens of port potties (blue rooms). As one of the 2000 riders, your only duty is to play on your bike, stuff food into your mouth and jersey pockets at the daily rest stops and three square meals, and set up your tent every night.

I signed up one dreary Midwest winter day, seduced by the promising brochure. As departure drew closer, my anticipation grew. My training consisted of my usual summer mix of racing a few time trails and pleasure rides with all my cycling friends (after all, I love climbing hills!). The most difficult part of preparation was packing. We were only allowed 1 bag, maximum weight of 65 pounds, which for me was several week project as I wrestled the tent (borrowed from Chuck), sleeping bag, and clothes inside to get them to fit. There was no room for high heels. I practiced setting up the tent in our living room several times, narrowly avoiding poking our children’s eyes out with the poles. I am a novice camper, so I made sure I had everything I would need as outlined on the ride web site.

My journey began with Dennis and Darryl as we boarded our flight from Chicago to Portland. Ron and Joe had packed my Madone into a box and shipped her out ahead; she waited for me at the ride start in her box painted with orange and red horse designs. We stayed with Jim and his family in Portland who were wonderful hosts that Friday, and Cheryl from Florida joined our group after her flight arrived late that night. Saturday we set out for Sisters where the ride was to begin. As we drove along the mountain roads, excitement built. I would soon be on my bike with no cares in the world, no pharmacy customers demanding my attention, no bills to pay, and no children to be nagged. I was free.

When we arrived in Sisters, we parked the rental van in the remote parking area and walked to the information building to pick up our rider packets. They put wristbands on us and gave us stickers that had to go on our helmets and bicycles, identifying us by number. Dennis and company wandered to find their tents in the “gated community” (tent and porter service they had signed up for - I referred to them as the suburbs). I dragged my bag to a promising site relatively close to a set of port potties away from the main crowd. And so set the rhythm of the week; as I wrangled the poles amid offers of help which I graciously turned away, I set up my humble abode and organized my cycling gear and skort for the next day. Later, after I picked up my Madone which had been carefully reassembled by the mechanics, we all met for dinner at the food tent.

The days that followed were a blur of meeting new people, miles of majestic evergreens marching, lush quiet forests, peaceful winding roads, and river water rushing over weathered smooth stones as I pedaled along. Sometimes I rode with my friends, sometimes alone admiring the scenery, and sometimes with new acquaintances. Some days the sun rose to melt the frost on my bike as she stood guard at my tent, some days a gentle mist fell softly. Some days the sweat rolled down my arms as I met new ascents, happy and at home climbing upwards. Some days I shivered with fear and chills during the descents. The highlight of the week was a once-in-a-lifetime ride around Crater Lake as the sun shone hot and bright and I chased down group after group up and down the hills.

Photographs and words cannot do justice to my experience. There are memories I will treasure for the rest of my life; the feeling of power as I passed everyone climbing the mountains, icy cold waters of rivers and lakes I swam in, joking and laughing with my new friends as we recounted events of the day, and even the homesickness and tears that hit me suddenly that week (and abated after a few beers!). Even though I was very happy to exchange the wafting odors of the blue rooms and dampness of everything in my tent for the comfort of my bed and arms of my family, I find myself wistfully remembering the openness of the wide skies out West, in the magical land they call Oregon.

Northwest Illinois Century aka Tour for Cancer Century

2007-09-25T16:40:00.001-07:00

We should really call this the Tour de Teresa, since Teresa Isbell orchestrated this spectacular September event and invited all her friends from bikejournal.com to join her in the Upper Left Hand Corner.

We gathered in the wee crisp hours last Saturday, and Teresa had name tags and a big banner waiting. Bill Leibman, his son Adam rolled in and were joined by ChainLinkCyclists Andrew "Diet Rite" Soria, and Steve Spyrison to welcome bikejournal riders from Racine, Roscoe, Savanna, South Elgin, et elsewhere.

Still shivering beneath the early sunrise, we headed out on our favorite Tour for Cancer Century route. Teresa and her husband, Chris, had carefully freshened up the road route markers for newcomers and the forgetful. How could we not remember last June 30's century for cancer?

It was hard not to smile at the wonderful early autumn weather, as we turned south from Warren down Fiedler Road, and the grace of the countryside embraced us. Bill, Adam, Steve and I rolled happily and effortlessly down to Canyon Park Road over one of the most beautiful stretches of this Century... or any century.

Naturally, we had to climb over the Binkley Bonk. I was on top first and became the cheerleader as Adam hurdled up at an amazing velocity. Then came Dad (Bill) and Steve.

Full of our achievement in the backdrop of a grand view, we streaked down the east side of the bump ready to consume whatever delights awaited us at Karen's.

Karen's is a scumptious eat n bakery in downtown Stockton. With more than 45 miles under the belt and 55 to go, fueling the engine at Karen's is a must. I believe we each had an egg and bacon (or sausage) sandwich on fresh bread or croissants. Bill and I followed that with hot Dutch Apple and rhubarb pie which we reluctantly shared with our tablemates.

Shortly after arriving at Karen's Andrew "Diet Rite" Soria and Craig from South Elgin arrived. Naturally, Andrew was porting his favorite carry-on lunch-- shrinkwrappedfreezedried Salmon.
Yummy!

Craig pulled up a chair and was complimentary of the route. Indeed, this century is majestic, and the best was yet to come. Our next stop was Mount Carroll, and we rolled out of Stockton with our legs laden with egg n pie. Soon, we were wringing out for the big roll down the grande Loran Valley.

En route, we happily met up with some bikejournal.com guests, and we rolled south together into Mount Carroll. Our destination was (as always) the Dairy Queen to prime the pump with a Hawaiian Blizzard. Then it was homeward bound along Cyclone Ridge Road and north out of Lanark over Center Road. Then we ran into Dennis Robinson while waiting for a train.

Dennis led Bill, Adam and me home wishing he had ridden the previous 75 miles. The Commodore had just returned from a great Cycle Oregon (Check out his photos of Crater Lake.) and was full of piss and vinegar. He challenged us on his P-38 recumbent. But Adam was up to that, and his dad would not be put off the back.

As for me, it was a pleasure to have another opportunity to ride this great century route with good friends on such a magnificent day.

Thanks Teresa (and Chris) for making it possible. Thanks to Bill and Adam for the company and the Bergie Oktoberfest afterwords. And thanks to all the bikejournal.com riders for joining us in the Upper Left Hand Corner.

Mattson Places 6th at National ABR 50 Mile Road Race

2007-09-23T16:11:00.000-07:00

WEST LAKE VILLAGE, ILLINOIS -- This just in from Ron Mattson, owner of the Freeport Bicycle Company and team leader of their bike racing team. Ron's recap demonstrates the importance of having a team focused on getting their leader to the line and on the podium.

"I felt honored to have the support from my teammates, Bob Kenneke and Russ Damhoff. They are great climbers and it was a rolling course so they used all their energy working for me. They covered the early breaks by Team MAC (4 guys) and allowed me to sit in for the first 16-18 miles of the50 mile race.

The pace was pretty fast but I felt really really strong. Then, on the start of lap3 (of 6), we got caught out on a huge attack (7 guys) lead by Team MAC. Bob started to work to bridge me up but popped. Bob must have covered a half dozen vicious attacks and worked his buttoff. So I had to go it alone with one guy on my wheel ... who did zero work.

I had to go since all the medals were up the road. I TT'd it @ 27-28 mph for ~ 3 miles to catch the lead group (still with 3 Team MAC guys). The lead group was now 9 guys. We worked together until we completed lap 3. Then the attacks started again with MAC guys one after another attacking.

I covered 2 or 3 attacks myself and still felt super strong. I made the decision to mark the two best sprinters in the field ... turned out to be the wrong choice. Team MAC attacked again (They had two guys left now) and 3 guys opened up a 20-30 sec gap.

I figured we had 6 guys still in our group and someone would help bridge the gap. But no one would take charge, and the gap grew to 1 minute with the 3 guys up front working hard together. I had only 2 laps left by now, so I went to the front and hammered, but still found no one to help work.

One of the sprinters had a teammate in the lead group so he would not work. The other sprinter refused to work. After about one lap, there were only three of us left-- Team MAC's sprinter, a Polish Sprinter (Best in the Midwest), and me. The 2 other guys with us could not hold the pace on the rolling climbs and got spit out the back.

With one lap to go I bridged ~30 secs so I kept hammering. The two sprinters were yelling at each other because neither one would do any work and they had no chance to win unless we bridged... but they still didn't help. I knew my only opportunity to get a medal was to bridge the group and beat one of the three lead guys (6 of us and only 5 medals). So I kept the pace up 26-27 mph.

With only 3-4 miles left, the lead group was 10-15 secs up the road, and I kept up the steam. When we reached the last corner ~ 1-1.5 miles from the finish, I was 8-10 secs behind and they knew I was coming.

With about 200 meters left I has out of the saddle giving it all I could. The 3 lead guys started their sprint and the two sprinters, which I towed for 20 miles, came around me. I had no gas left and took 6th (3-5 secs from first). That's racing. I made the wrong choice."

Congrats, Ron, Bob & Russ. Great effort!

Return from Cycle Oregon

2007-09-23T15:57:00.000-07:00

Dennis, Darrell, and Peggy have returned from Oregon, and Dennis has some fantastic pics of Crater Lake. Here they are.

La Vuelta a Espana 07

2007-09-20T18:50:00.000-07:00

We are in the final week 2007's last great pro cycling tour. Sadly, there is no TV coverage of the Vuelta a Espana. Versus ain't at the Vuelta, and the pro cycling media is more concerned with sad sack doping than grand competition.

There is, however, a fantastic web site with a very cool photo gallery to keep you entertained.

Spain is a wide open country with scenic beauty beyond compare. Check out the Vuelta web site when you get a chance.

http://www.lavuelta.com/07/ingles/webimagenes/imagenes18.html?e=18

Photos courtesy of above.

Northwest Illinois Century

2007-09-18T19:31:00.000-07:00

This is our Tour for Cancer Century and our lovely Saturday coffee ride, Lyle's Ewe Turn.

Teresa Isbell has invited the world to join her on these two routes on Saturday morning, September 22nd. The rides begin with group photos at 6:30 am at HCC and the YMCA.

Teresa has planned an after ride get together at Cimino's.

If you missed the Tour for Cancer Century on June 30, here's your chance to bite the hair of the dog. or else "Bonk on Binkley."

Thanks for your enthusiastic persuasion, Teresa. We love your spirit!!

Trib Tidbits

2007-09-16T18:04:00.000-07:00

Here's one from the Sunday Trib. Meet "Strangers and Friends" while cycling in Europe. Cycle along the Danube, and plan ahead using this bike tour web site: http://www.biketoursdirect.com/.

Also a footnote in the Transportation section on Bicycling & the Law: Your Rights as a Cyclist. Cyclist/lawyer Bob Mionske has written a 384 page book available through Velo Press for $18.95. "This covers rights and duties of cyclists in commuting, accidents, group rides, property damage and bike theft."

Finally, a photo of our Badger Bicyclist, Lyle Krug, taken by his lovely wife, Jane, on some nifty single track southeast of Steamboat, Colorado.

Upper Left in Oregon

2007-09-13T17:23:00.000-07:00

Commodore Dennis Robinson has been urging us to join him in Oregon (the state) for their annual cycling tour. This year, Dennis is joined by Peggy Badgett and his ole Komrad, Darrell "Wrigleyville" Windle. Darrell is an experienced Cycle Oregon rider, and Peg is going out to bash some of the locals.

We hope their weather is favorable, and here are some photos off the Cycle Oregon web site...

Giro a Brodhead e Retorno

2007-08-23T18:57:00.000-07:00

We’ve been biking steadily through the month of July, although there hasn’t been much coming out on the page. This is symptomatic of an over preoccupation with the Tour de France.

On Sunday, July 29th, we followed butterflies out over the big hills to Galena and 112 miles of glorious suffering.

On the first Saturday in August, it was time to shake off the lactic acid of Galena and head northeast out of the Upper Left Hand Corner.

Our destination was Brodhead, Wisconsin which is the southern gateway to the Sugar River Trail. It is a cycle friendly community with a very nice town center where we found a bike shop with a bed & breakfast above.

Our route took us up through Clarno, Twin Grove and Juda. A lumber yard in every town in case we would require a 2x4. The roads were in great condition and traffic was light—nearly nonexistent. Unlike the previous Sunday where the incessant sunlight sucked the life out of my legs, the weather was overcast and cool.

Out of Juda, we headed north to Greenbush Road and followed that east to County F. Here we took a detour towards Albany in order to catch a lovely “Rustic Road” called Park which we followed back down to Brodhead.

Brodhead has spruced up the old limestone buildings in its center. We found a friendly sandwich shop and tavern at the southeast corner of the piazza and settled into a nice lunch. My guest, Geno Sapinski from Downers Grove, very nearly spoiled my prime rib sandwich when he asked if my lively Salsa cycling jersey was available in a mans’ color.

Afterwards, our route back to Freeport took us south along Mount Hope Road past the go cart track where Indy Racing League star Danica Patrick launched her meteoric career. Mount Hope carves through the flat rich bottom land and eventually rises up to meet State Line Road.

Turning west, we hugged the state line over to Davis Road. We rode south on Davis Road to Walnut Grove Road and turned west again. Walnut Grove, though freshly sealed and overly chipped, was a welcome alternative to rough treeless boring Rock Grove Road. So we crunched through the chips over to Juda Road and Rock Grove.

From Rock Grove, we continued west towards Afolkey Road along Hickory Grove Road. Hickory Grove is another “preferred” route to Dakota Road which is in terrible shape.

We stopped at Berner Cheese in Afolkey to see if we could get Geno some cheese to take back but no such luck. So, we continued down Afolkey to Angle Road and took that over to Henderson Road and the home stretch to Freeport.

In spite of a light drizzle, this is a great 80 mile ride over some beautiful scenic rural roads.

Rain Rain Get Out a Here

2007-08-23T18:32:00.000-07:00

I rode 75 miles back from Williams Bay, Wisconsin through a warm (ish) rain last Sunday. South of Davis, along Farwell Bridge Road, the clouds thinned, and a warm breath blow dried me and my pannier laden Las Cruces.

Since Sunday, however, we have had nothing but rain, soak and soggy.

Makes one think of our Irish friends.

Adventures in Thompson?

2007-08-06T05:27:00.000-07:00

On Sunday, July 29, suffering from Post Tour Anxiety, I followed two butterflies over the hills to Galena and back to Freeport. Jill Whiting, Colleen Neary and I had a glorious 115 mile ride, although the sun sucked the life out of me legs. More about all that later.

The Tour de France and the PTA has really put the brakes on my writing. So, I share Jill's trip to Thompson this past weekend with you now.

"Still HIGH on the ride Dave took us on last Sunday (which I did AGAIN on Monday – but on the back of Kenbob’s motorcycle – I found I did a LOT less heavy breathing the second time around), today Colleen, Michelle and I (Jillyf!sh) started from Freeport and went out East Loran to 78 North.

At this point I had a not-so-pretty blow-out. Left a quarter-inch hole in my tire, right in the center where “the rubber meets the road”. I put in a new tube along w/ a dollar bill to cover the hole.

As I attempted to pump it up, it blew again. Colleen generously donated her only tube and I tried again. George Washington was staring out the hole at us, so I took one of Colleen’s patches and covered the OUTSIDE of the hole (if I would have thought about it BEFORE pumping, I’d have put it on the inside of the tire. At least George was blind-folded now.)

We were thinking maybe it best to start heading back though we were really psyched to do the planned ride. I said, let’s see if I get 5 feet down the road, and,……if so, we’ll go to Massbach Rd (if I make it that far) and re-evaluate. Well, the patch was still on and the tire still held air, so I felt cocky and said let’s keep going.

We rode Derinda south to Scenic Ridge Road along the east side of Pallisades.

We hit Savanna and Michelle took off down Rt 64 to head back while we took the path down to Thompson. There we found a delightful bike shop called “Arnold’s Bikes and Embroidery” -- REALLY!!! Too funny! He had quite the inventory – a fun shop.

We stopped for lunch and the rain hit! By the time we were ready to hit the road, it subsided a bit but still rained on us all the way to Freeport. We were soaked but happy! We zig-zagged through Chadwick, Lanark, Shannon and back. Clocked 104 miles. Michelle did about 20 less and later wished she rode the extra 20 just to have someone to paceline with and take turns blocking the headwind. NEXT time!

Once I got home the patch was still there but pretty much worn through and George was peeking out again. I really think ol’ George made our ride possible.

For those interested, the 2006 Hawaii Ironman will be televised again tomorrow (Sun) from 4 – 6.

Andrew, gotta tell you about a fun bike gadget I saw at the Embroidery Shop – OOPS, I mean BIKE Shop J, that you’d find interesting as a commuter.

No Italian from me, except CIAO!"

__~O
-\ <,
(*) (*)

~ Jillyf!sh

2007-07-10T12:18:00.000-07:00

This is our Bigdaddy—the Tour for Cancer Century. The route was originated by Dennis Robinson to touch nearly all the clinics in our health network, and it is one of the premier long rides in the Upper Left-Hand Corner of Illinois.

We start from our YMCA located on the Highland Community College campus and cycle north by northwest through the villages of Lena and Warren. The route then swings southwest down gorgeous Fiedler Road to Canyon Park Road—a wide blacktop which rolls south towards Stockton through a broad valley.

Our destination in downtown Stockton is Karen’s Restaurant for an early lunch. Our right of passage is a beastly 15% grade on Binkley Road which we call the Binkley Bonk. Pray that a dog doesn’t chase at your heels on the way up as it did me the first time I climbed the Bonk. Once on top, your reward is a spectacular westerly view from the summit.

Karen’s has humongous sandwiches and yummy pie. We tucked into piled high turkey clubs and bacon cheese burgers. Darrell Windell lured us to the rhubarb pie, and this prompted Andrew “Diet Right” Soria to proclaim that we were “an eating club with a bike disorder.”

From Stockton, our Century heads east over to the borough of Kent. My legs felt like lead with all that lounging and eating at Karen’s. But my tum was pleasantly full with fresh warmed homemade pie.

South of Kent, we tackle some big rollers and swing into another beautiful valley which meanders southwest along Loran Road towards Mount Carroll. We lovingly call this the Valle de Loran.

As we approached Mount Carroll, the pace quickened. Evidentally Karen’s pie wasn’t enough to satisfy our craving for sweets. Dr. Mike Perry and Chuck Garrett were locked in on Hawaiian Pineapple and other Blizzards at the Dairy Queen. Their flying P-38 recumbents set us up with a nice draft down to Mount Carroll.

Our route from Mount Carroll to Lanark runs off Route 40 onto Cyclone Ridge Road. Praise Almighty, the winds were out of the southwest. We set our spinnakers on Cyclone Ridge, and flew over the rollers to Lanark. From Lanark, it’s back to Freeport and Highland College via the village of Shannon with a short stop at Casey’s if called for.

Wanna ride this fabulous Century? Drop me a note. The course markers should remain visible for the next few months, and I’ll send you a map and detailed directions.

Better yet, come ride with us on June 28, 2008. All contributions go directly to our Ferguson Cancer Center here in Freeport.

Lanesboro

2007-07-05T12:53:00.000-07:00

Where is Lanesboro, and what is so special about it? To find out, we ventured out of the Upper Left Hand Corner of Illinois. Our destination was the Lower Right Hand Corner of Minnesota and their smooth bicycle trail which has been in existence for over twenty years.

Lanesboro is the centerpiece of this tarmac trail system. It is an enchanting enclave surrounded by limestone bluffs with the Root River running through it on its way to the great Mississippi.

“What happens in Lanesboro stays in Lanesboro.” So say the T-shirts on sale there. This must refer to cash receipts from visiting tourists, because Lanesboro is an economic tourist engine-- like the Wisconsin Dells but much more quaint and classy. And it’s all because of a bike trail.

The town also draws tattooed Harley riders and scantily clad river tubers who seek the cool ripples of the Root River. On Saturdays and Sundays it resembles Lake Geneva, Wisconsin with its cacophonous parade of two and four wheeled chrome machines.

But the majority of folks arrive with bike racks on the backs of there SUVs and vans. They come as families and friends to ride the Root River Trail. They come, as we did, to enjoy the après biciclette when the bikes are in the barn, the sun is over the yardarm, and extraordinary wine is lovingly uncorked. They seek the succulent slightly pink legs of lamb arched delicately over beds of couscous graced with mango jalapeno chutney. Peddle pusher or not, this is gastronomic heaven.

Our appetites were fed by the fresh out-of-doors, as we rose early in the morning sparkle to ride bicycles. During midday, we poked into an array of smart shops and lunched on a shady deck overlooking the river. Following lunch and the Schell’s pilsner, we napped in the afternoon with Wallace Stegner’s “Angle of Repose” by our bedside.

In the early evening, we rose to observe Doctor Mike “Sparky” Perry assemble a great wood fire on the lawn and sample the wines he had carefully chosen for this magical weekend.

Who says bicycle riders are boisterous barbarians? Admittedly, we were a loud as we pulled our vinyl Adirondacks around the roaring “Sparky” Perry fire. As the vino flowed from our throats to our brains, we leapt from our seats to dance and chant like Sioux warriors.

Here we were on a splendid weekend-- long married couples sharing our love for life and cycling in this special place. I say long married, because we couples together represented over 200 years of devotion.

Thanks go to our beloved Commodore to for arranging our weekend in Lanesboro. We may have been too hard on him of late complaining of his appalling routes through the Upper Left Hand Corner of Illinois. But he showed himself to be a cultured gentleman along the banks of the Root River in Lanesboro, Minnesota.

Rodmanson’s Meyers Road 60

2007-06-26T08:48:00.000-07:00

Meyers Road is a five and a half mile chip sealed surface stretching between Route 78 and Loran Road. It is a lovely sequence of hills and valleys introduced to us by Ron Mattson of the Freeport Bicycle Company last year.

You can start up Meyers Road from the south off Loran Road as we did last autumn under Ron’s recommendation. The fun begins after you roll three miles along a plateau in the company of a westerly belvedere. Thereafter, you commence a series of four plunges followed by five sharp 10% grade climbs before arriving at Route 78.

Our first encounter with Meyers Road was unforgettable for its beauty and pain. It was punctuated by emerging fall color and a nasty northwest wind uncharacteristic for September. This year, we longed for another dance.

That occurred on June the third, and this time we approached Meyers Road from the north and Route 78. For extra fun, we were obliged to ride over to Route 78 via East Loran Road. This knee buckling prelude was orchestrated by none other than Dennis Rodmanson our beloved Commodore.

Yes, we know Dennis’ real name is Robinson. But we prefer this moniker, which combines the idiosyncrasies of former NBA bad boy, Dennis Rodman with the dark persona of Charles Manson.

Admittedly, our Commodore was fresh from his huge ride on Memorial Day weekend (See Mean Ole Skene.). He really does arrange the most interesting, and appalling, bicycle rides in our Upper Left Hand Corner.

So, to get to Meyers Road the Rodmanson way, depart Highland Community College, and head west on Pearl City Road to Block Road which is just around the big “S” turn about five miles. Follow Block Road down past the Emerald Acres campground to Mill Grove Road. Turn left, and ride Mill Grove down through Owl’s Glen to Loran Road.

Turn right on Loran Road and ride out west about seven miles across Route 73 over the big hill into the Valle de Loran. A very short mile south of Loran, turn right on Althoff Road. Althoff becomes East Loran Road and six miles over the knee bucklers into Pleasant Valley and Route 78.

Along the way, we received an extra adrenaline pop as we approached our final climb around a big sweeping turn at 20 miles per hour. Dennis and I were in front with Yoric Knapp hot on our tail in his titanium Bachetta. Yoric screamed “Deer,” and Dennis and I braked just in time to avoid a big White Tail flying full tilt across our path.

This magnificent creature hurtled over the barbed wire fences on each side of the road ahead. He hung his hind quarters on the second fence, but his momentum scraped him off the barbs, and he was gone. Twang!! OUCH!!

We didn’t much mind the final climb over to Pleasant Valley after witnessing that.

East Loran Road ends at Route 78. Turn left and ride two miles south towards Mount Carroll. At the top of the long grade on 78, turn left on Meyers Road. Enjoy the next five and a half miles over the big rollers.

When you arrive at Loran Road, turn left and ride back to Freeport through the beautiful Valle de Loran. We thank our Commodore Rodmanson for this 60 miles of June nirvana.

Report from the Mean Ole Skene

2007-06-11T12:58:00.000-07:00

This week, Cycleupperleft is proud to offer a guest feature from none other than the Commodore himself and his riding pal Peggy Badgett. Andrew Soria provided the photos.

Well, three of us actually got up early to try a challenging ride from Stockton to Galena and back--Andrew Soria, Peggy Badgett and I. We started at 6 AM sharp and went out on a south route toward Massbach. As I have mentioned, since I learned Skene Rd had been paved, I've wanted to get the bike out there. Skene Rd goes between Massbach Rd and Derinda Rd--the road delves deep into a valley, and then, naturally climbs just as dramatically back out.

Ok--you all know Andrew is an experienced cyclist who has logged many miles. His previous top speed was 46 mph. On Skene Rd, he hit 52.2!!! I hit 53. What a descent--unbelieveable and breathtaking. Speaking of breathtaking, then we had to climb back out to Derinda Rd. We took Hanover Rd on over to Hanover and then headed out Blackjack.

I had noticed a few roads had been seal coated over the past several years, and wanted to explore, and Peg and Andrew were game. After we climbed up Blackjack out of Hanover, we took Sawmill Rd to the N (I think--the roads do not go any particular direction out there as you know). After we dropped down into the valley, we took a left onto Rodden Rd, and this undulated threw a magnificent valley for quite a few miles.

Essentially we were riding in a valley between Blackjack and US Highway 20 toward Galena. Rodden Rd eventually breaks off to the north to meet US 20, and we continued toward Galena on Irish Hollow. Some of us have ridden a bit of the west end of Irish hollow in the past, but the east end is really spectacular. We followed it along and eventually it meets up with Blackjack about 2 miles from Galena, which we road on into town.

We hit the nice coffee shop that we tried last year, and once again, Andrew produced a smoked salmon from his bag--and they set him up with sandwich fixins, so he was set. Peggy and I ate the regulation turkey--we realize fish have feeling too.

The trip back was our usual favorite--Guilford--Rawlins (ugh), Schapville, Townsend, and then the grand finale--Aunt Binkley Hill. The consensus among todays riders was that Rawlins was the hill du jour as far as a climb--tougher than Binkley. and the descent du jour had to be Skene.

Total mileage was 70, and I have no idea how many feet we climbed (of course Andrew insisted we include a side trip up Gras Rd) At any rate, by the summit of Binkley, my hamstrings were on the verge of cramping up on me--I was glad to be done.

Peggy and Andrew were kind to not get too far ahead of me. I was on my old bike (Lightning P-38 recumbent), cause I was getting a little back pain last few days. Regarding Peggy--do not let her drink caffeinated beverages when you are riding with her--she had a latte in Galena, and Andrew and I paid all the way to Shapville, trying to keep her in sight.
I
promise to incorporate all these new roads into our one way trip to Galena on June 24. The plan is to ride to Galena from Freeport, then have our spouses drive out to pick us up and drive us back after we shower, hit the sports bar in Galena, and take them to dinner.
Hope you all had a great holiday.
Dennis
PS: Now I'm going to bed.

"I second everything Dennis said (except for the caffeine - I needed it!) - of course he kindly did not mention the fact that they had to wait on all of the downhills for me since I tend to hit the brakes, but towards the end of the ride I figured what the heck and gave the bike some rein.

Talk about truly beautiful scenery - we are incredibly lucky to bike this area. My favorite climb was Rawlins - that is such a fun hill, but they were all great. I am one tired girl, but did manage to get a horseback ride in, go to a party, and get some landscaping done after the ride. I'll be asleep by 9!

Dennis - if I can't ride Rawlins on the June ride, maybe I can go back uphill on Skene and catch up with you guys at a snack break. I'll have to drink some coffee BEFORE that ride!"
peggy

Surreal Surly di Giuseppe

2007-06-01T09:16:00.000-07:00

Joe Dadez, manager of Freeport Bicycle Company, recently purchased a surly looking Surly single speed bike for $30.

The bike came with weird olive paint, over Reynolds 631 tubing, dressed with cranberry colored crank and cranberry wheels. The splayed out handlebar drops were a relaxed yet aggressive touch.

But then, Joe dug through the parts bins at the shop and scrounged matching rosso colored V-brakes ($50) and cranberry handlebar tape ($12) plus new brake levers ($20), a leftover Bontrager saddle ($44), and a freewheel ($16.99).

The grand total for bike and adds is $172.99.

Now, Joe has a Surreal Surly-- a spindly Greek olive pitted with a dash of rust and garnished with a flash of florescent pimento.

Che bella bicicletta, Giuseppe! Bravo!!

For extra fun, check out Surly's website -- http://www.surlybikes.com/bikes.html

Lyle's Ewe Turn

2007-05-30T07:29:00.000-07:00

Spring is here, the grass is not too high, the trees are just leafing out, and the landscape is as soft as the lamb’s tummy. This is a story about sheep and rural roads. Odd combination, wouldn’t you say? Read on.

There are hundreds of bucolic gravel roads hidden around the Upper Left-Hand Corner of Illinois and never enough paved ones. So, when we discover a remote and scenic tarmac, we treasure it, hold it in our collective memory, and praise its aesthetic rewards.

One Sunday morning in late April, Lyle Krug introduced us to just such a route. Growing up near Orangeville, Illinois, Lyle has had ample time to sample nearly every road between Freeport and Monroe. So come ride with us in the charming lambscape where sheep safely graze, and please hold all jokes about our four legged friends.

To get to the Ewe Turn from Highland Community College, take Kiwanis north to Stephenson Street and west to Van Brocklin Road. Continue north on Van Brocklyn to Lily Creek Road. Turn right on Lily Creek and ride to the next left at Harlem Center Road. Continue north on Harlem Center Road across Business 20 and over the US 20 Bypass. Take the first left on Winneshiek Road after you cross over the Bypass, and ride west up the hill to the "T" at AYP Road.

Turn right on AYP, and ride north to the next "T" at Cedarville Road. Turn right and ride 2,000 feet, across the Pecatonica River bridge, to Damascus Road. Turn left and ride north on Damascus Road three and a quarter miles and turn left on West Empire Road.

Now, enjoy the first leg of the Ewe Turn. You’ll have just enough time to peek at the scenery as you descend eight tenths of a mile down this narrow tree lined road. Just before the gravel at the bottom of the hill, turn right on Korth Road.

This is the second leg of our Ewe Turn. We’ll ride north with the shade of the hillside on our right up the grade to the iron fence styles. Now, you may stop, look, and listen for our fuzzy friends grazing peacefully in green pastures.

After bidding the ewes adieu, Korth Road falls away and jambs into McConnell Road. Watch for traffic as you turn right, and commence the third leg of the Ewe Turn. You are riding east two and three quarter miles over Richland Creek into rustic Buena Vista.

Lyle’s Ewe Turn is a three-legged ewe which rams into your quads as you climb out of Buena Vista. Once on top, turn right, and ride south on Red Oak Road into the hamlet of the same name.

At the end of Red Oak’s main drag, turn right on Beaver Road and ride over the Richland Creek watershed up to Scheider Road. Ride Scheider south to Cederville Road. Turn right on Cederville and left on Scioto Mills Road. Watch behind for fast moving vehicles as you prepare to turn on to Scioto Mills Road.

Follow Scioto Mills Road south and east into Scioto Mills. Just after you cross the Jane Addams bike path, turn right on Iris Hill Road and continue south until you "T" into Winneshiek Road. Turn right on Winneshiek and follow that back to Highland College via Harlem Center, Lily Creek, and Van Brocklin Roads, Stephenson Street, and Kiwanis Drive.

So there you have it. Thirty miles with a Ewe Turn of sheeply splendour. What more could you desire on a bright spring Saturday morning?

Ewe Turn Trivia – You’ll cross the Jane Addams Bike Path four times at Buena Vista, Red Oak, Scioto Mills, and Winneshiek Road.

Finally, our thanks to Commodore Dennis Robinson for naming one of our favorite bike rides in Stephenson County.

Pilgrimage to El Sanctuario de Chimayo

2007-05-21T12:39:00.000-07:00

El Sanctuario de Chimayo in northern New Mexico is a sacred place long valued for its healing powers. On Good Friday and Easter Sunday the roadside up from Nambe will be jammed with pilgrims young and old who park their cars and hike to El Sanctuario.

Somehow the Spiritual Presence eludes me in a large crowd. Rather, a quiet May Tuesday was a better time to make my pilgrimage. And rather than hoof it, I rode up on an Eddy Merckx CHM road racing bike. David Bell at Mellow Velo in Santa Fe rented me the Merckx in exchange for installing new shifter levers on my vintage Vitus 979.

We drove north from Santa Fe to NM Route 503 in Nambe and parked my mom’s ‘89’ Pontiac “amigo- mobile” along the shady road side just up from the intersection at US 83/285. Carefully lifting the brand new carbon fiber Merckx out of the boot, I inserted the Campy front wheel and water bottles, and we were off.

NM 503 is smooth and shaded as you ride up the gentle grade. Nambe nestles in a quaint valley of cottonwoods and mountain streams. Then the road rises up into the high desert of pinons and junipers, and you are rewarded with grand vistas of the Sangre de Cristo and Jemez mountains.

The climb up NM 503 is steady and not at all punishing providing you've adjusted to the altitude. We’re riding between 6,000 and 7,000 feet and need a day or two to get our lungs acclimated. After seven and three quarter miles, we turned left on NM 520. Very soon, we were flying down a long grade into Chimayo. I could hear the sound of swarming cicadas over the wind in my ears. It was coming from the Campy freewheel.

The front brake of the Merckx protested a little as we approached the cattle crossing at the bottom of the hill. Immediately after the crossing, I turned right on Sanctuario Drive.

El Sanctuario de Chimayo was peaceful humility in the May morning air. In the absence of pilgrims and tourists, the silence was only broken by a gentle breeze off the mountains. I was tranquilized by this Holy Place and could very nearly hear my heart beat. Riding a bike seemed the perfect pilgrimage.

I believe I reflected on my ailments— the achy back and knees and knotted quads we bike riders endure. I thought I might leave a water bottle or my spare inner tube in the tiny room off the sacristy as a confirmation of my faith in the curing powers of the dirt contained in this lovely sanctuary.

Then my mind briefly turned to the climb out of Chimayo, and before I knew it, I was on the Merckx peddling up the long steep road. The effort was surprisingly little, and my cadence was deliberate and not at all anxious. I stayed in the saddle transfixed in a rhythm coming from deep inside.

Then, I recalled last year’s bike ride to El Sanctuario where the same phenomenon occurred. It was not the light and agile Merckx which was helping me power up the grade but something more significant.

Perhaps here was a formula for the mystery of faith-- rigorous exercise rolling up to a lofty view then plummeting into the solitude of a pastoral sanctuary. The reward is to be refreshed and refocused on the task at hand. And after you have recharged your spiritual batteries and have crested the climb out of Chimayo, a magnificent vista and roll await on your eight mile descent back to Nambe.

I do admit that the Eddy Merckx CHM was very comfortable and responsive-- a light but firm “big guy’s” carbon fiber bike. David Mill’s set-up may have over-geared me for the climb out of Chimayo, but I had acquired something extra special on my pilgrimage.

Photos Galore

2007-05-11T08:57:00.000-07:00

Thanks to J.Paul Getty, we have Getty Images. And thanks to Getty Images, we have a wealth of cycling photos. Check them out sometime when the weather is lousy, and you're indoors with a hankering for such things. Who knows, perhaps one day Getty Images will feature photos of the Upper Left Hand Corner of Illinois.

Spare the Rod

2007-04-30T14:06:00.000-07:00

Commodore Dennis Robinson has been tweaking his P-38 Lightning recumbent over the past several years. He’s added lighter wheels, lighter tires, a lighter carbon crank set, and lighter more fluid pulleys. He even lightened his own corpus to gain more speed to challenge his Lightning squadron and brash upright bike riders who refuse to acknowledge the recumbent rider as their equal.

After all his lightening of the Lightning, Dennis saw the light. He abandoned his beloved P-38 and purchased a titanium Bacchetta Aero recumbent with a molded carbon fiber seat.

Now, I thought, “this is very cool. Let’s ride out to Kent on Tuesday afternoon, meet up with Dennis, and check out his new wheels.”

To get to Kent, I chose the most direct route from my house. I rode up Van Brocklin Road to Pearl City Road and turned left on the smooth new tarmac surface. The wind appeared to be out of the north, but now I was rolling quite nicely west towards Pearl City.

After about two and a half miles, I turned north on Rink Road and followed that up to Dublin Road. Turning left on Dublin I was in the gravel for about four miles. This was fluffy sandy stuff with only sparse sections of hard pack. But this is a scenic section of Dublin Road-- an undulating terroir unseen by most riders on road bikes.

After crossing over Route 73, Dublin Road becomes a nice blacktop surface and stays that way for another four and a third miles until one arrives at the corner of Kent and Sunnyside Roads.

Turning right into a stiff northerly wind on Sunnyside Road, I began to wonder if Dennis had left his clinic in Stockton. The wind was howling me deaf, so I pulled out the cell phone and stuck it in my ear. Just then, I saw the Commodore up ahead.

We exchanged pleasantries and decided to ride south through Kent down to Goldmine Road. But I was eager to feel the weight of the Titanium Bacchetta (Italian for stick or rod), so we stopped in front of Fannucan’s Tavern. As I lifted it up, I was completely amazed at this new breed of recumbent. It felt lighter than my Trek 2100.

I now began to sense what lay ahead on the road home. “Lighter Dennis with big long powerful legs on super slippery light bent seeks upright for dinner.”

Off we went over the big rollers down Kent Road. No matter I was running a 50 tooth chain ring versus his 55. This guy was well and truly gone. And gone he stayed for the next five miles over Goldmine Road until our Commodore pulled up at Flack Road and condescended to ask me for a screwdriver so he could make an adjustment.

And it didn’t make any difference that I was carrying the extra weight of tools on my 2100. This titanium rod was very hot indeed—hot and slippery like a knife thru butta.

Things tamed as we resumed our roll down Goldmine to Pearl City. Just like old times on our P-38s, our Commodore was becoming affable again. We turned left and headed east on Pearl City Road into the afternoon go-home traffic. Dennis suggested we detour off Pearl City Road onto Babbs Grove Road.

As we turned north into the wind, the Commodore again laid down the gauntlet. Now, I was shouting after him that I might have ridden “Bump n Jam” rather than endure such ill treatment. We rounded the corner and headed east. The wind was still hard at us, but Dennis let me catch him. Now, I anxiously anticipated what was coming a mile up the road. Babbs Grove Hill is a short thigh stabbing grade, and I was certain the Commodore intended to drive his titanium stick into my legs.

On this quick steep climb, I was barely able to stay on his wheel. Over the top, the “T- Rod” shot ahead down the long eastern slope. This attack, I thought, was not even worthy of a response.

Again, the Commodore let me catch up. And as we rejoined the smooth surface of Pearl City road, I thought I might tuck into a draft on his wheel. Here was my most troubling discovery.

I found myself fighting to find any sort of shelter. There was no draft to be had behind this slippery stick. The narrow width and slick bottom surface of his carbon fiber seat erased any hint of drag.

Equally disturbing was that the Commodore’s “T-Rod” could draft along on my wheel without so much as his rotating the peddles.

That, folks, was my first experience riding with a Bacchetta Aero. I admonish anyone desiring to test the metal of the Commodore and his “T-Rod.” If you are a seasoned rider on board a Trek Madone or some other professional grade velo, consider your odds even. If not, hang back with the rest of us mortals in the safety and comfort of the pelaton. Your place in the “old school” shall remain welcomed and secure.

Classic Cobbles

2007-04-25T06:02:00.000-07:00

Can a banker, chiropractor and computer systems manager enjoy a week at the Spring Classics in Belgium & Northern France? You bet.

Ron Mattson, who owns the Freeport Bicycle Company and manages the digital world at the Monroe Clinic emailed his conclusions to Cycleupperleft.

"See attached pic of the 50+ miles of pave I road over without any issues or flats (Bontrager race lite 700x25 tires/tubes), Bontrager Race lite carbon fork, SRAM Rival groupo (didn't miss a shift). I saw hundreds of people fixing flats & bikes. My hands are still healing up but I love the cobbles! We road over 500 miles for the week.

The pros are out of this world!"

Ron and his buddies, Bob Kenneke and Mark Wright tickled the cobbles, and they tickled back.

Dusting Off April

2007-04-17T11:08:00.000-07:00

It is Easter week, and we’ve had a string of sunny weather in the Upper Left Hand Corner of Illinois. That’s the good news.

We’ve also been hovering in the 30s, and the cold winds have been very strong and gusty out of the northwest. So, we riders have been seeking shelter.

There are many paved cycling roads in the Upper Left, and most are exposed to the wicked blows in early spring. Thankfully, we have plenty of good scenic gravel roads carved through the hills. These are shadowed by trees bordering creeks and brushy fence rows.

To escape the ugly winds, I spent three days in the dusty gravel on my Trek 2100. And I’m happy to report that my Bontrager Race Lite 700x25 tires have performed fantastically on the rocky surface.

Although rounded on the edges and flat in the center, they’re extremely tough and easy to control. A mountain bike with big knobbies is a boring blunderbuss by comparison. I took the leap of faith, stayed off the brakes, and let the Race Lites roll!

So here’s our dusty trail out of Highland Community College. Head west on Pearl City Road to Van Brocklin Road. For safety’s sake, always stay to the right of the fog line as you ride on Pearl City Road.

Turn left and head south on Van Brocklin. At the next corner, turn right and continue on Van Brocklin to Burr Oak Road. Turn right on Burr Oak and ride the gravel west across Bolton Road until Burr Oak tees up to Voss Road.

Turn left on Voss Road and ride south past Don and Janey’s Arabian horse farm. Around the corner, Voss Road becomes Kermit Road. Follow that back east to Bolton Road and good old blacktop.

Turn right on Bolton Road and ride across Yellow Creek. After the creek und the curve, turn right on Loran Road and follow that up the hill. At South Voss Road, you’ll be back on the gravel again. Try to stay off the brakes and pick a line where you can avoid large rocks and clusters of small ones.

Loran Road meanders along the south bank of Yellow Creek. The countryside is lovely along this stretch as you ride high above the creek over to Mill Grove Road. Turn right on Mill Grove, and now you’re on a chip sealed surface as you loop back across Yellow Creek up through the Owl’s Glen.

At the top of the hill, you’ll tee into Block Road. Turn right, and follow Block past the Emerald Acres Campground over two nice rollers up to Pearl City Road. Turn right on Pearl City Road, and remember to watch for heavy traffic. Just after the left-hand curve, turn right again on Voss Road and gravel.

Follow Voss Road back to Kermit Road and east to the Bolton blacktop. Turn right on Bolton Road and left on Van Brocklin Road before you cross Yellow Creek. Ride back up Van Brocklin to the stop sign. Turn left and follow Van Brocklin north to Pearl City Road. Turn right and ride east back to Highland College.

Our route has taken us nearly twenty miles. We’ve dusted our tires, honed our bike handling skills and are ready to head for Paris-Roubaix.

P.S. Ron Mattson from the Freeport Bicycle Company reports that his Bontrager Race Lites held up beautifully over the paves (cobblestones) on the Paris-Roubaix circuit.

April Fools

2007-04-17T10:58:00.000-07:00

Sunday, April the 1st. We start our ride as usual from Highland College hoping for a thirty miler. But the wind builds out of the southwest, and clouds begin to roll in.

We ride west down Pearl City Road to Block Road, then south on Mill Grove Road through Owl’s Glen across the Yellow Creek. We work together to shelter each other from what is now a ferocious southern wind.

Turning right, we ride west along Loran Road. Andrew “the Psych” Soria reveals that the tech thing on his handle bar says it is a balmy 57 degrees. I scarcely believe my ears which are now freezing. The cold wind blows up my left nostril giving me a great pain in the sinus.

Ominous dark clouds continue to mount ahead in the west, and it begins to drizzle. It is time to bail.

Our fellow Honeywellers, Bill Leibman and Andrew Soria, have psycled in all sorts of nasty weather. Neither protests shortening this ride. So, we dodge north on Route 73 and time-trial it back from Pearl City beating our peddles in retreat. On the way, Andrew’s tech thing reads 49 degrees F. And this wind is out of the south??

Such is the promise of early April. Opening day at Wrigley Field brings nothing but rain and cold wet hot dogs. Shouldn’t we wait another month and go back to play in the palm trees and citrus groves?

Instead, we move daylight savings time forward, as hope ever springs eternal in the Upper Left Hand Corner of Illinois.

Monday, April 2nd finds us licking our wounds from yesterday’s spoils. Chuck Beichel and I meet at 4:15 in the afternoon to try again at our thirty mile ride. Today, the temperature has moderated along with the wind which is now a light northwest breeze.

We point our P-38 recumbents down the new tarmac on Pearl City Road. “Rush hour” traffic on Pearl City chases us on to Babbs Grove Road. We climb the long hump and plummet gleefully down the steep western slope.

Sunday’s episode is all but erased. Today, we are on a good roll.

From Pearl City, we ride west on Goldmine Road up the long lazy incline. The wind is barely a factor, as Chuck and I work together. Our reward is a grand descent into one of our favorite valleys in the Upper Left Hand Corner. At the bottom, we turn left off Goldmine onto South Kent Road.

Now, we’re in the big gear following our peddles and rolling effortlessly alongside the East Plum River between the ridgelines. With the wind pushing, South Kent Road is two and a half miles of wunderbar cycling.

At the church at Loran Road, we turn back east and climb the steep long hill with the wind at our backs. Then, it’s back down the east slope to Lott Road where we turn right.

Now, we reverse last month’s Marztag route following Lott Road over the rollers to Saben Church Road and back east towards home. This is a fine thirty mile ride out of Highland College. But ride it on a good day when the wind is light and westerly and in your favor.

We all have been two kinds of April Fools. We’ve wimped out and stayed at home when we should have been outside with our face in the wind. And we’ve beaten ourselves to death against a relentless cold gale. Today, Chuck and I got it right.

Marztag (March Day)

2007-03-29T09:00:00.000-07:00

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.

March Sunday Granny 2006

2007-03-09T14:36:00.000-08:00

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.

Providence in Las Cruces

2007-03-01T07:17:00.001-08:00

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.

February Chill

2007-02-10T09:17:00.000-08:00

Last year February was anything but blah. In fact, with temperatures lilting between thirty and fifty F., February of 2006 presented us over 200 miles of cycling. Complimenting such moderate temperatures, February road surfaces were unseasonably dry and free of ice.

February OSix was pretty typical of Februarys over the past several years in the Upper Left Hand Corner of Illinois. For nearly ten years, we took our dose of cold weather and snow in late November and early December. Then, as each New Year unfolded, we were teased by the hint of Spring.

But this February, the pigeons rushed home to roost. El Nino vanished, the jet stream dropped in out of Canada and the snows of old man arctic returned to remind us of Februarys past. This February we begged off cycling and are seriously considering snow shoes.

Our dilemma is we’ve been spoiled by outdoor cycling, and work on a trainer is just that. No amount of virtual digital sensory reality tech stuff can compensate for the crisp air in the lungs and the beauty of an afternoon winter light. We’re stuck in a funk between indoors and out.

Today’s lunch special at Mort’s was Italian beef sandwiches laced with pepperincini peppers, Mrs. Mike’s chips and two cups of jus. I was tucking into the first half of my sandwich when a friendly February chill walked through the door and slid up into the stool beside me.

With the first bite of his sandwich, the chill proclaimed, "Fondaman, there are a lot of calories in these sandwiches and chips. (pause & chew) Did you hear that Andrew rode his bike to work yesterday?"

"Yoric, we had a very big snow yesterday, and the thermometer hardly broke zero."

"I know. How psychotic? Never would I do that."

"I hope he was smart enough to get a lift home."

"I don’t really know, but I’m certain he must have. These Italian beef sandwiches sure pack the calories."

The caloric echo pegged my anxiety about not riding a bike these past two weeks. And, I was desperate to enjoy my favorite sandwich and chip combo without remorse. Psycho Andrew was out there on his bike to torture me. Would this atypical typical February ever relax its grip?

Some folks get all nostalgic about the good old days when we had "a real winter." Some sophisticated Midwesterners, high and dry away from seacoasts, prefer the coming of global warming. Why winterize ourselves away from our beloved Upper Left Hand Corner of Illinois and its glorious backdrop for bicycling?

Per me, I hope the Good Lord will soon brush the roads clear of ice and salt and raise the ambient to thirty five degrees F.

There’s still time to fill our lungs with crispy fresh winter air and marvel at the winter light in spite of a wee burr in the saddle. Perhaps before March we’ll be back to normal—whatever that is.

Winter Trail Walk

2007-01-26T09:05:00.000-08:00

It was a soft quiet winter Sunday morning as we pulled into the parking lot at the Jane Addams trailhead. Not a car was in sight; only the fresh show. I had an urge to shift from four to two-wheel drive and cut a couple of donuts before hoofing it up the trail.

As Sue Robinson and I stepped from my Chevy Blazer, Commodore Dennis (Robinson) was digitally recording the event for posterity. This was our first trail walk of the year—a four mile round trip to Scioto Mills.

The Jane Addams Trail stretches north from the trailhead through the bucolic burgs of Scioto Mills, Red Oak, Orangeville, Oneco, and Clarno on its way to Monroe, Wisconsin. We’ve walked and biked nearly every foot of it, save the newest section between Clarno and Monroe.

Occasionally we ride our bikes on the trail, but it is more satisfying as a walking path. The pace is slower and sensations stronger when draped in fall color and the bloomin bluebells in early spring.

The local snowmobile club helped construct and maintain this trail, and they've no doubt been itching to have fresh snow to ride on.

We weren’t long down the trail, before hearing a muffled rasp of a sled gliding up from behind. We scurried to the side of the trail to make way for three machines which passed us in short order. Once clear, they opened their throttles and sped away.

These motorini con skis are very powerful and fast. Their silent menacing exhaust note caused me to conjure up a suitable moniker from the past.

While in the Army at Fort Bliss, Texas, I reluctantly traded in my red "67" Alfa Duetto Spider for a 1971 BMW 1600 Sedan. Our beloved Alfa was ill suited to double dating, and we couldn't afford the more powerful and legendary 2002.

In those days, when you gassed up, an attendant filled your tank. As I pulled into a Chevron station, the good old Texan looked over my shiny new Bimmer and proclaimed, "This is what I like to call a whispering bomb."

And so the "whispering bombs" slid past us and disappeared in front of their white vortex. Left to silence, we followed their tracks, and I thought it probable that snowmobiles might coexist with human powered travel.

At last, with only a mile left on our four mile walk, the whispering sleds returned. By the time we reached the trailhead, they were packed up and gone.

To get to the Jane Addams Trailhead, follow US Route 20 a short mile west of the Illinois Route 26 Exit to Freeport. Turn south on Fairview Road. Go to the "tee" and turn right over the hill. The parking lot is on your right.

Eating and the Art of Cycle Aerodynamics

2007-01-21T10:21:00.000-08:00

Winter has dumped several inches of snow and superchilled the Upper Left Hand Corner of Illinois. So there's nothing whatsoever to do but eat.

Now we can work on fattening up to increase our downhill speed. And since we're becoming more well rounded, we should be more aerodynamic as well.

This is a good time to put in a word for Mort & Saint's bar & grill at 114 S. Chicago Avenue in Freeport just next door to our Freeport Bicycle Company. Today's special was goulash replete with three pieces of grilled garlic bread. We washed it down with a couple mugs of diet cola (no endorsements for soft drink companies in this blog), and were out the door for under five bucks.

Mort's has the best Italian beef this side of Chicagoland, and their Italian meatball sandwich is terrific. The meatballs are larger than golf balls, and you get two sleeves on a great French role for -- you got it -- under five bucks!

While we were smacking at the Hungarian Goul, Duke Herrling remarked that Tyger Johnson was singing and playing his many instruments at 9 East Coffee on Stephenson Street this morning. Tyger is our renowned cyclocross champion who retired years ago to a Lightning F40 recumbent.

http://www.lightningbikes.com/f40.htm

Tyger is our local Lightning dealer and has sold most of the Lightning recumbents ridden in this area. Thanks to Tyger, the Upper Left Hand Corner may have more recumbent bikes per capita than any place in the world.

Nevertheless, the next time we find Tyger playing at 9 East Coffee, we're gonna get him some dark glasses and a monkey with a tin cup. With his talent, he should be able to make enough money to properly refit the shell on his F40.

Now, back to Jill's Goulash at Mort & Saint's. It was so deliciously filling that afterwards I felt obliged to stop in next door and talk bike riding with Ron Mattson at Freeport Bicycle. This was so therapeutic after a big lunch.

Ridin in Winter

2007-01-13T09:34:00.000-08:00

This is the second winter season where our roads have been clear, and the invitation to ride our bikes has been with us nearly every day. And we're in Northwest Illinois-- the "Upper Left-hand Corner"-- in what is typically a frosty landscape in winter.

Herr Carl Beichel and I have logged over 130 miles since the first of January 2007. Our daily rides begin at 3:00 in the afternoon, and we roll in just as the light begins to fade. But we're on the other side of the winter solstice now, and each day the light will linger longer. Now, if only the snow holds back, we'll exceed our 200 miles during January of 2006.

On Saturday mornings, we head out from the corner of Harlem Center and Lily Creek Roads at 8:30 and ride north into the hills above Freeport. We punctuate each Saturday ride with a double espresso e dolce at the 9 East Coffee shop in downtown Freeport.

On Sunday mornings, we ride south from Highland Community College at 9:00. Our usual destination is Jerry's Cafe in Shannon where we warm up with waffles, eggs & sausage. The past few Sundays have been frosty, and our faces are in the wind as we ride to breakfast. But on the return trips, we catch the wind and sail with the sun at our backs and the sparkle in the trees.

Yup, winter riding is very special, and it sets the tone for what is to come in the cycling season.

This is a simple beginning to our bicycle blog in the Upper Left-hand Corner of Illinois. We'll add routes and destinations in Northwest Illlinois as we progress-- perhaps a photo or two-- as we figure this blog thing out.

So join us. Share your joy of riding. Every day on a bike is a good day.