Neil Fein's account of our October ride to Red Bank, NJ, is posted at the Crazy Guy On A Bike website:
http://www.crazyguyonabike.com/doc/shoretour2007
It's entertaining reading, but I must disagree with one of Neil's statements. He writes:
"Frustration stemmed mostly from our different perspectives on tour planning. I mapped the tour out turn by turn, knowing that my deficient sense of direction would [require] adjustments along the way. Neil saw this as a problem, but I like to think that the point of touring is to see things, meet people, and to explore."
I don't think this is an accurate description of my 'perspective.' In fact it's a straw-Neil. I enjoy seeing things, meeting people - well, most people, and exploring. But they have to be worth seeing, meeting, and exploring. A salt marsh on a road bike isn't one of them. Nor is a parade of parking lots.
No, I think the frustration both Neil and I felt - yes, there was some frustration on Neil F.'s part - was that the route was excessively plotted. Neil F., on his first tour, was determined to get it "right", and so his analytical abilities went into overdrive. It was inevitable we would get lost. I was on my first tour, and I don't deal well with frustration. Frustration is part of touring, and so we lost our tempers at times.
On our recent tour of Philadelphia, I purposely kept the tour vaguely plotted. I knew we needed to be in certain locations by certain times, but until then we had the run, err, ride of the city. Neil F. could relax and not worry about maps and compasses, and he seemed to have a good time exploring. I did too. And if Neil F. had been with me on Sunday, he would have probably enjoyed my visit to Colestown Cemetery, a spontaneous bit of exploration on my part.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Photos from the November Tour
Three photos of the Neils on Wheels Bike Touring Team camping it up in the Quaker City. The third photo is with a historical marker I helped dedicate back on July 4, 2004.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Lessons from my latest tour
Lessons I learned from my recent two day tour with Neil Fein:
- I make too much fuss over equipment. I rode home in crosstrainers instead of the cycling shoes I wore on the way down, and I had no problems. I could have saved space and weight by not wearing my cycling shoes. Unfortunately, it's a bit too late to save money, since I bought them.
- Riding in winter requires layering, just like any other sport.
- Drink just as often as you do in hot weather.
- The Trek Navigator is not suited to overnight tours of any distance. I've clearly outgrown the bike. It's slow, heavy, clumsy, and the upright position is uncomfortable for long rides.
- My 7.5 fx is getting a rack. And a kickstand. I got the 7.5 when I was under the spell of a roadie who kindly helped teach me to ride. But a side effect was that I became convinced I needed to become a roadie myself. Some of my frustration the past couple of months has been my inner tourer and transportational cyclist fighting the roadie persona being thrust upon it. What use is a bike that can't stand up and can't carry anything?
- I like bike touring, and on the bike, I don't have anything to prove to anybody.
- Frustration is part of touring, and I did better dealing with it this time than last. In fact, I remained calm during our extended problems traveling with bikes on PATCO.
- A person who has an intolerance to dairy products should not have milk, even lactose-treated milk, before riding home on tour.
- I make too much fuss over equipment. I rode home in crosstrainers instead of the cycling shoes I wore on the way down, and I had no problems. I could have saved space and weight by not wearing my cycling shoes. Unfortunately, it's a bit too late to save money, since I bought them.
- Riding in winter requires layering, just like any other sport.
- Drink just as often as you do in hot weather.
- The Trek Navigator is not suited to overnight tours of any distance. I've clearly outgrown the bike. It's slow, heavy, clumsy, and the upright position is uncomfortable for long rides.
- My 7.5 fx is getting a rack. And a kickstand. I got the 7.5 when I was under the spell of a roadie who kindly helped teach me to ride. But a side effect was that I became convinced I needed to become a roadie myself. Some of my frustration the past couple of months has been my inner tourer and transportational cyclist fighting the roadie persona being thrust upon it. What use is a bike that can't stand up and can't carry anything?
- I like bike touring, and on the bike, I don't have anything to prove to anybody.
- Frustration is part of touring, and I did better dealing with it this time than last. In fact, I remained calm during our extended problems traveling with bikes on PATCO.
- A person who has an intolerance to dairy products should not have milk, even lactose-treated milk, before riding home on tour.
Amazon Link
Some of you may have noticed a link to Amazon on the left side of the blog. If you visit Amazon through that link and make a purchase, I get a little money. Any funds raised will go towards my cross-country tour next year. Right now I've raised 47 cents. Folks, can you help me bump that up a little?
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Day One of Tour - Neils on Wheels in Philadelphia
"It's 9:30 Saturday morning, and I'm here with Neil B. on the Shoyelkill Trail - "
"That's 'School-kill', Neil."
" Schuylkill River Trail, under the radioactive power lines near Norristown, and I am starting my five day tour." Neil Fein turned off the hand-held tape recorder he was talking into and looked at me. "What do you think of it?"
"It's so high-tech I'm surprised you didn't start the entry with "Star-date."
And so began the latest adventures of Neils on Wheels, opening, as usual, with sniping. When casting about for an excuse for us to go on another bike tour, I discovered Neil F. hadn't been to Philadelphia in years. At the same time, Neil was deciding he wanted to attempt a longer multi-day tour, and so we hammered out a plan; tour from Norristown to Philadelphia, cross over the river, and stay with friends of Neil in Cherry Hill. The next day he would go on to his next stop, and I would ride back home. Several hours of train rides for Neil F. and two hours of pedaling for me from our respective homes brought us to Norristown on a cold Saturday morning.
We hurried down the trail, Neil on his mountain bike, I on my Navigator. I would have used my hybrid, but I wanted to test the Navigator on a longer tour. It definitely showed its limitations as a touring bike. I will not be writing verse about the thrill of riding the Navigator, unlike Neil F., who wrote a rock song about his mountain bike.
We reached the Art Museum about 12, and began to search for a place to have lunch. We rode towards City Hall and posed for photos with our bikes in front of the LOVE statue. After looping around Broad, Market, and Chestnut, we stumbled on a Mexican eatery that featured weak salsa and bad 80s pop music. "I used to listen to this all the time" Neil said about one tune. "I'm not sure which is worse, knowing you listened to it, or that you admitted it" I replied.
After lunch we rode into Old City. Riding on cobblestones wasn't the wisest thing I've done, and Neil didn't enjoy our riding behind the horse-drawn carriages filled with tourists. But still I enjoyed showing Neil the city, and I got to know it better as well. We rode onto South Street, made 'emergency' stops for a guitar shop and a bookstore, and warmed up with cider and coffee at the Philadelphia Java Company. The area was filled with bicycles, and as much as I enjoy living in the country, that afternoon I envied the lifestyle of the urban cyclist. Oh to be young, thin, and riding a fixie to a coffeeshop!
Recaffienated, we headed out for more sightseeing - the Society Hill Synagogue, the Athenaeum, and a historical marker for Johann Nepomuk Maezel on 5th Street that I, in my role as Historian for the Pennsylvania State Chess Federarion, helped dedicate in 2004. Seeing it was getting late in the day, we began to search for the PATCO station. Rather than riding through Camden and risking appearing in a Daily News headline on Monday, we took the good advice BCP members gave us and crossed the river on a train.
PATCO soon had us wishing we had ridden through Camden. The machine ate our tickets, and after we purchased new ones, the handicapped door got stuck and we had to haul my heavy Navigator over the turnstile. But soon enough we were on board for Cherry Hill.
There had been some minor routing problems on the tour so far - I'd missed some turns downtown, and we circled the 8th and Market block because I missed the PATCO entrance the first time - but I made a bigger error in choosing the station to detrain. I chose Woodcrest, not realizing that Haddonfield was a lot closer to our destination. It also transpired that Neil F. wasn't expecting us to take the train, and I was expecting him to map the route from the station. So we found ourselves at Woodcrest without a map or cue sheet. Neil couldn't reach our hosts for directions - they were Orthodox Jews and observing their sabbath, and thus wouldn't answer the phone. Neil's wife was home, however, and she plotted out a route for us, which I took down over the phone. During this frustrating time, my friend refrained from getting revenge for the hard time I gave him for leading me into a salt marsh in Cheesequake State Park during our last tour.
By 6:45 we arrived at our destination, and spent a pleasant dinner and evening with our hosts.
"That's 'School-kill', Neil."
" Schuylkill River Trail, under the radioactive power lines near Norristown, and I am starting my five day tour." Neil Fein turned off the hand-held tape recorder he was talking into and looked at me. "What do you think of it?"
"It's so high-tech I'm surprised you didn't start the entry with "Star-date."
And so began the latest adventures of Neils on Wheels, opening, as usual, with sniping. When casting about for an excuse for us to go on another bike tour, I discovered Neil F. hadn't been to Philadelphia in years. At the same time, Neil was deciding he wanted to attempt a longer multi-day tour, and so we hammered out a plan; tour from Norristown to Philadelphia, cross over the river, and stay with friends of Neil in Cherry Hill. The next day he would go on to his next stop, and I would ride back home. Several hours of train rides for Neil F. and two hours of pedaling for me from our respective homes brought us to Norristown on a cold Saturday morning.
We hurried down the trail, Neil on his mountain bike, I on my Navigator. I would have used my hybrid, but I wanted to test the Navigator on a longer tour. It definitely showed its limitations as a touring bike. I will not be writing verse about the thrill of riding the Navigator, unlike Neil F., who wrote a rock song about his mountain bike.
We reached the Art Museum about 12, and began to search for a place to have lunch. We rode towards City Hall and posed for photos with our bikes in front of the LOVE statue. After looping around Broad, Market, and Chestnut, we stumbled on a Mexican eatery that featured weak salsa and bad 80s pop music. "I used to listen to this all the time" Neil said about one tune. "I'm not sure which is worse, knowing you listened to it, or that you admitted it" I replied.
After lunch we rode into Old City. Riding on cobblestones wasn't the wisest thing I've done, and Neil didn't enjoy our riding behind the horse-drawn carriages filled with tourists. But still I enjoyed showing Neil the city, and I got to know it better as well. We rode onto South Street, made 'emergency' stops for a guitar shop and a bookstore, and warmed up with cider and coffee at the Philadelphia Java Company. The area was filled with bicycles, and as much as I enjoy living in the country, that afternoon I envied the lifestyle of the urban cyclist. Oh to be young, thin, and riding a fixie to a coffeeshop!
Recaffienated, we headed out for more sightseeing - the Society Hill Synagogue, the Athenaeum, and a historical marker for Johann Nepomuk Maezel on 5th Street that I, in my role as Historian for the Pennsylvania State Chess Federarion, helped dedicate in 2004. Seeing it was getting late in the day, we began to search for the PATCO station. Rather than riding through Camden and risking appearing in a Daily News headline on Monday, we took the good advice BCP members gave us and crossed the river on a train.
PATCO soon had us wishing we had ridden through Camden. The machine ate our tickets, and after we purchased new ones, the handicapped door got stuck and we had to haul my heavy Navigator over the turnstile. But soon enough we were on board for Cherry Hill.
There had been some minor routing problems on the tour so far - I'd missed some turns downtown, and we circled the 8th and Market block because I missed the PATCO entrance the first time - but I made a bigger error in choosing the station to detrain. I chose Woodcrest, not realizing that Haddonfield was a lot closer to our destination. It also transpired that Neil F. wasn't expecting us to take the train, and I was expecting him to map the route from the station. So we found ourselves at Woodcrest without a map or cue sheet. Neil couldn't reach our hosts for directions - they were Orthodox Jews and observing their sabbath, and thus wouldn't answer the phone. Neil's wife was home, however, and she plotted out a route for us, which I took down over the phone. During this frustrating time, my friend refrained from getting revenge for the hard time I gave him for leading me into a salt marsh in Cheesequake State Park during our last tour.
By 6:45 we arrived at our destination, and spent a pleasant dinner and evening with our hosts.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Day Two of Tour - November 18, 2007
I'm going to split up my account of my tour to Cherry Hill, NJ and back into two reports. The first day featured the misadventures of Neil Fein and I in Philadelphia. Sunday was a solo trip back home for me, while Neil F. went on to East Windsor, the next leg of his five day tour.
After breakfast Neil and I went out and inspected the bikes, and attempted to inflate my tires with a 30 year old floor pump of our hosts. My tire pressure was lower than I'd like, but still ridable. We left together at 8:00 AM, and rode together for the first mile. Then Neil F. wished me luck and turned off, while I continued onward towards Haddonfield PATCO station, where I would take a light rail train over the Delaware River into Philadelphia.
Before I reach King's Highway, Rt 41, which would take me to the station, I passed historic Colestown Cemetery. A friend of mine from California had emailed me the day before I left that the happiest time of his life was spent in Cherry Hill nearly two decades ago with his father. Mike's dad passed two years ago. My friend, perhaps not entirely jokingly, asked if I would say Hi to his father for him. Although he isn't buried there, the gates to the cemetery were open, and there were no mourners present to be disturbed, so I rode in and spent a few minutes circling the grounds. None of the residents seemed to be bothered. And yes, Mike, I did convey your good wishes.
Reflection over, I rode on to Haddonfield. The town of Haddonfield is very pretty, and wished I had time to linger in town. In particular there was a bike shop I wanted to visit, but it wasn't open and I had miles to ride. By 9:10 I reached the station. PATCO is said to be bike friendly, but yet again I needed to push my heavy Navigator over the turnstile because there was no working handicapped entrance. I eventually got over and got on a train, and arrived at 8th and Market about 10:00 AM.
Once on the street and on two wheels, I made a straight line towards City Hall. I noticed a sign hanging from the building advertising the Philadelphia Marathon, but I didn't pay attention to it. I should have. But I was more concerned about navigating downtown. I found the layout of streets to be confusing, and I wound up circling the Convention Center while trying to find a way to get to the Parkway. I eventually took Vine Street to the Free Library.
Once there, I discovered the Parkway had been blocked off for the Philadelphia Marathon. I walked and rode on sidewalks looking for a way to cross over to the trail on the other side of the road. I didn't find it until just before Main Street in Manayunk.
Meanwhile, I was searching to cross the road for more than just the desire to get to the other side. The weather was getting colder and rain was beginning to fall. And whatever I had for breakfast wasn't digesting well. So when there was a break in the line of runners, I sprinted across the road and got on the sidewalk, then rode the sidewalk up into Manayunk. I crossed again at a spot where some young people were heckling the runners - for some reason they spared a 240 pound cyclist. I parked at Human Zoom, made a purchase, and asked to use their bathroom.
Feeling weak, I rode the Towpath out of Manayunk rather than try the "BCP route" over the local hills. I reached the SRT with a number of problems. I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast several hours before, and I was afraid to do so with my guts in a knot. Yet if I didn't eat, I would bonk sooner or later. And while I had a water bottle, I didn't know if my stomach woes were caused by breakfast or something nasty in the water bottle. So I rode on in the cold, eating breath mints for whatever sugar they had in them, and hoping something close to the trail was open.
Nothing was. The Outbound Station was closed. The Liberty gas station near the Cross Country Trail entrance was closed. Vending machines along the route weren't working. And the rain was picking up. I zipped up my jacket and rode on.
Eventually I reached Norristown and headed for Dunkin Donuts, where I drank hot chocolate to warm up, and had a donut and muffin to fuel. And became sick again. I pushed off and headed back to the trail. Eventually I reached Gold's Gym in Oaks, just off the SRT, just after 3:30 PM. I'm a member there, and after becoming ill yet again I knew I was never going to make the remaining 12 miles back to home. I might manage the flat parts of Oaks, Mont Clare, and Phoenixville, but not the hills of Kimberton during the drizzling cold rain and without daylight. ( I did have lights on the bike, but it wasn't the bike I was concerned would fail. ) I called a friend of mine who picked me up.
So while the weekend ended with a whimper instead of a bang, I had a good time, and I hope next trip downtown to spend more time enjoying the city.
After breakfast Neil and I went out and inspected the bikes, and attempted to inflate my tires with a 30 year old floor pump of our hosts. My tire pressure was lower than I'd like, but still ridable. We left together at 8:00 AM, and rode together for the first mile. Then Neil F. wished me luck and turned off, while I continued onward towards Haddonfield PATCO station, where I would take a light rail train over the Delaware River into Philadelphia.
Before I reach King's Highway, Rt 41, which would take me to the station, I passed historic Colestown Cemetery. A friend of mine from California had emailed me the day before I left that the happiest time of his life was spent in Cherry Hill nearly two decades ago with his father. Mike's dad passed two years ago. My friend, perhaps not entirely jokingly, asked if I would say Hi to his father for him. Although he isn't buried there, the gates to the cemetery were open, and there were no mourners present to be disturbed, so I rode in and spent a few minutes circling the grounds. None of the residents seemed to be bothered. And yes, Mike, I did convey your good wishes.
Reflection over, I rode on to Haddonfield. The town of Haddonfield is very pretty, and wished I had time to linger in town. In particular there was a bike shop I wanted to visit, but it wasn't open and I had miles to ride. By 9:10 I reached the station. PATCO is said to be bike friendly, but yet again I needed to push my heavy Navigator over the turnstile because there was no working handicapped entrance. I eventually got over and got on a train, and arrived at 8th and Market about 10:00 AM.
Once on the street and on two wheels, I made a straight line towards City Hall. I noticed a sign hanging from the building advertising the Philadelphia Marathon, but I didn't pay attention to it. I should have. But I was more concerned about navigating downtown. I found the layout of streets to be confusing, and I wound up circling the Convention Center while trying to find a way to get to the Parkway. I eventually took Vine Street to the Free Library.
Once there, I discovered the Parkway had been blocked off for the Philadelphia Marathon. I walked and rode on sidewalks looking for a way to cross over to the trail on the other side of the road. I didn't find it until just before Main Street in Manayunk.
Meanwhile, I was searching to cross the road for more than just the desire to get to the other side. The weather was getting colder and rain was beginning to fall. And whatever I had for breakfast wasn't digesting well. So when there was a break in the line of runners, I sprinted across the road and got on the sidewalk, then rode the sidewalk up into Manayunk. I crossed again at a spot where some young people were heckling the runners - for some reason they spared a 240 pound cyclist. I parked at Human Zoom, made a purchase, and asked to use their bathroom.
Feeling weak, I rode the Towpath out of Manayunk rather than try the "BCP route" over the local hills. I reached the SRT with a number of problems. I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast several hours before, and I was afraid to do so with my guts in a knot. Yet if I didn't eat, I would bonk sooner or later. And while I had a water bottle, I didn't know if my stomach woes were caused by breakfast or something nasty in the water bottle. So I rode on in the cold, eating breath mints for whatever sugar they had in them, and hoping something close to the trail was open.
Nothing was. The Outbound Station was closed. The Liberty gas station near the Cross Country Trail entrance was closed. Vending machines along the route weren't working. And the rain was picking up. I zipped up my jacket and rode on.
Eventually I reached Norristown and headed for Dunkin Donuts, where I drank hot chocolate to warm up, and had a donut and muffin to fuel. And became sick again. I pushed off and headed back to the trail. Eventually I reached Gold's Gym in Oaks, just off the SRT, just after 3:30 PM. I'm a member there, and after becoming ill yet again I knew I was never going to make the remaining 12 miles back to home. I might manage the flat parts of Oaks, Mont Clare, and Phoenixville, but not the hills of Kimberton during the drizzling cold rain and without daylight. ( I did have lights on the bike, but it wasn't the bike I was concerned would fail. ) I called a friend of mine who picked me up.
So while the weekend ended with a whimper instead of a bang, I had a good time, and I hope next trip downtown to spend more time enjoying the city.
Neils on Wheels Break Up!
Don't be alarmed, it's not a break up as in "the Beatles broke up." Simply, I rode with Neil on the first day of his five day tour. I rode back home yesterday, and he went on to his next stop in New Jersey. I'll provide a fuller report on the ride to Cherry Hill, NJ, and back in the next day or so. Meanwhile Neil F. pedals on, and should be arriving in New Hope, PA, this evening. I'll post on his progress over the next few days.
Going for 3000
2698. That's the yearly mileage total as I arrived back from my overnight tour yesterday. I want to get to 3000 miles by year's end. By my calculations, that's 61 miles a week for the next five weeks. If I remain uninjured, the weather holds out, and I ride, it's a reachable goal.
How I'm going to reach the near-metric century mileage each seven days, I don't know. It might be commuting to work one day a week and two rides to my gym. It might be one long ride on the weekends, which seems to be my practice lately. Let's see what I make happen.
How I'm going to reach the near-metric century mileage each seven days, I don't know. It might be commuting to work one day a week and two rides to my gym. It might be one long ride on the weekends, which seems to be my practice lately. Let's see what I make happen.
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