The Suitcase of Courage

Bones & Ghost Hunting

As those of you who follow me on Twitter or Facebook already know, I crashed during a training ride Thursday evening and broke my shoulder blade.  I was on my normal short training loop and taking a corner I've taken dozens of times before, fast but not crazy, and about 1/2 way through my wheels just came right out from under me.  As near as I can tell, I hit a slick spot of oil.  I hit the pavement pretty hard and slid across two lanes of traffic.  Fortunately, I stopped sliding right before I got to the opposing lanes - and also fortunately, that traffic was stopped for the light.

I hit my shoulder very hard, ripping up my jersey - thankfully, it was my right shoulder, not the left where I broke my collarbone last year.  I hit my right arm/elbow and slid on my right hip.  I hit my head, but not too hard - helmet didn't crack.  Lots of roadrash, but not as much as I expected considering how far I slid.  Bike was ok after I knocked the front brake back over so I could free the front wheel.  I rode the rest of the way home.

By the time I got home, my right arm was stiffening up quite a bit, so I started calling the guys that were on their way over to cancel our historical society meeting for that night.  I figured I should have my shoulder checked out and would drive myself to the walk-in clinic.  One of the guys was almost to the house anyway and offered a ride which I am VERY glad I took - by the time he arrived, there was no way I was going to be able to drive my truck (5pd shift).

Already-long-story-a-little-shorter, after spending most of the rest of the night in the clinic getting x-rayed and such, the doctor told me I'd broken my scapula.  Got my jersey and undershirt cut off and my road rash cleaned and dressed.  Despite the huge raspberry on my hip, the Pearl Izumi shorts hardly look like anything happened.

Bike is ok near as I can tell so far.  Nothing really bad apparent on the ride home for sure.  My nice red brake hoods are pretty scraped up, as is the left(?!) lever.  But I think everything's fine.  Can't believe I didn't lose anything - pump, seatbag, Garmin, CatEye all stayed attached to the bike.  Glasses went flying, but I got those.  New iPhone and other jersey-pocket-contents stayed put.

So, all in all, it could have been much, much worse.  It's a pain, literally and figuratively.  But it's probably the best time of the year - bike racing wise anyway - for it to happen.

And, obviously, I can type ok. :^)

Thank you again to all of you that have sent me well-wishes and phoned.  The best consolation during all this is getting such great support and encouragement from friends.  So thanks - you guys are the best.

Now, without further ado, and considering today is Halloween, herewith follows one of my favorite post.  Sadly, I won't be riding past any cemeteries any time soon, but if you do be sure to let me know if you see anything, er, interesting . . .

If you want to see ghosts, ride your bike in Autumn along a lonely back road.  I don't believe in ghosts - at least not the kind you usually think about.  But I do believe in the ghosts of the past - the hauntings of a place by the memories of the people who were there.  Who were they?  Did they have dreams and plans like we do today?

My friend John and I rode past this cemetery a couple years ago.  It's a fairly typical example for this part of the state, where old farmland has been reclaimed by the forest just like the farmers and their families were eventually claimed by time.  It's a very quiet place out in the New England countryside, made all the more eerie by the sunless sky and cold breeze.

On a bike, you're not only closer to everything physically - you smell the fallen leaves and the wood fires burning and feel the cold wind on your skin - but you get closer mentally as well.  Out in the country on a bike all you hear besides the hum of your tires on the pavement are the sounds of the wind going by, the squirrels gathering their food for the winter, and the rustling of the trees.

If during your ride you stop at a spot like this and imagine, even for a few minutes, how these people lived, who they loved, what their hopes were and whether they ever achieved them, you might see some ghosts.  At the very least you'll appreciate more deeply what they went through and how privileged we are today.

And if you're especially quiet, you may even hear in the sound of the leaves floating by on the breeze a whisper of thanks from those people for not letting them be forgotten.

Motivation Monday:A Roadie Goes Off-Road

Those of you who follow my Twitter feed know that I saw the Leadville movie the other night and have been tinkering around with my old (1996) Parkpre, converting it from a city/cruiser back to its original mountain bikeness.

Well, the combination of those two facts got me out in the woods yesterday afternoon, despite a pretty bad cold/allergies.  It was a totally different experience than riding on the road, for sure.  I climbed rocky "walls", I went down a technical descent - without endo-ing, I bunny hopped a log, I fell over a bunch of times, I got muddy.  I almost got lost.

But that's getting ahead of my story.  Before I hit the trail, I had to finish the bike.

Other than removing all the "surplus" items (bags, rack, etc), the main thing I wanted to do to my Parkpre was install a new drivetrain.  Unlike my road bike, I have no clue how many miles I have on this bike.  I've only changed the chain once, and the cassette and 'rings (as well as the tires!) were still original.  So, with a little help from SDC on cranks/rings and a little money for cassette & chain, I was in business.

Pretty new chain and (7spd!) cassette (pie plate now removed)

Showing the whole new drivetrain & old C'dale stock Fizik Poggio saddle

After an aborted attempt to raise the saddle a little bit, involving a pipe wrench and a lot of elbow grease (let's just say that despite the now-marred seatpost, things didn't budge), and reinstalling the tires, I was in business.

Old school MTB, all ready to go off-roadin'!  Crank Bros. pedals courtesy TJ.

I got the last piece of the puzzle Thursday night on our way to the movie when our sponsor shop hooked me up with new MTB shoes.  I'd never been off-road while clipped in, so this was going to be a totally new experience.
 
Yesterday afternoon was a beautiful, relatively balmy, late fall day.  Nevertheless, given my cold, I put on a base layer & long sleeve jersey, stowing a jacket in the back pocket just in case.  In keeping with MTB style (in my mind anyway), I kept on my Levis (though the ankle straps likely canceled out any coolness factor), and hit the trails just across the street from our house.

Right away, the different feel compared to road riding was obvious.  Much longer wheelbase, straight bar, ROUGH road trail.  I realized immediately why folks prefer to have at least front suspension (the Parkpre is a full rigid hardtail).  And I got a new appreciation for how grueling a 100 mile MTB ride/race like Leadville must be.  I'd only gone a few hundred yards and my upper body was already getting tired(!)

Part way in, I came across a dirt bike rider and ATV-er who gave me the low down on some of the trails ("We've been lost out here for a couple hours; and the trails are either muddy or hard to see with all the fallen leaves")  and I hit my first real climb.  Not until then did I fully appreciate the granny gear - and climbing in the saddle.  Every time I stood, my rear tire lost traction.

When I got to the top, I had to shed my base layer.  I'd only been out about 20 minutes, but didn't know how far I'd gone (in my haste to get out, I'd forgotten to start the Garmin).  I knew it wasn't far though, so I kept going.

The guys had said that if I "keep turning right you'll hit the powerline" and sure enough I did.  I decided to follow that north a bit, keeping the railroad track out of sight to my right (but within earshot of the steam locomotive and its echoing whistle).  Despite a few falls - none too bad - and one ill-chosen line through a puddle that turned out to be MUCH deeper than expected (and got me my first street MTB? cred, er, crud), I ended up here:

Pretty sight, but I should have taken a picture of the sign behind me which read something like: "Private Property: Wide Trails for Senior Citizen Use Only"  I'm not kidding.  My knarly off-road riding led me to a set of trails that were more suited to the senior set.  They weren't too technical.

Not wanting to cross the private property - and unsure exactly where I was - I got out the 21st century equivalent of my Boy Scout compass: My Google-maps-equipped iPhone with the cool "My Location" blinking dot GPS.  Sure enough, it showed me at the fringe of Essex Meadows senior center - about as far north as I could go in this wilderness.

I set off to the southwest, but found fewer and fewer trails that headed in the direction I wanted to go.  Consequently, I ended up doing more hiking than biking.  But I did surprise myself a couple times with how steep I was able to climb, over rocks, without dismounting - or falling over.  One time, near the top of a particularly nasty climb, I got that "do or die" feeling where I HAD to keep pedaling, or else fall over and maybe crack my skull.  I pedaled frantically, rear wheel spinning until it FINALLY gained traction, giving my best imitation of a hamster stuck on a wheel.

But that wasn't the most embarrassing part of the ride.  What was worse were the descents.  Just about every time the trail headed down - at least when I didn't chicken out listen to the voice of inner reason and dismount, you could hear the scrEAMing of my brakes echoing off the hills and trees, sending chipmunks, squirrels and other potential predators running for cover (assuming they weren't laughing hysterically).  Toeing in my pads is job #1 before I ride again.

By this point, the shadows were getting longer and the light was getting weaker.  According to my handy-dandy iPhone/GPS, I needed to get back to the powerline and follow it to the road.  Only problem was that every trail I came across went away from the power line.  So, I blazed my own trail - riding when I could, walking when I couldn't.

Problem with not following a trail, is that you don't really know where you're going.  Problem with GPS is that it doesn't show terrain.  Those two problems conspired to lead me here:

 
That's about an 80 foot drop about 10' in front of my bike.  Unfortunately, to get to the powerline, I had to go straight off this cliff - or find a way around it.

Not having highly-developed freeride skills, I decided to try to get down some other way.  By this time, I was getting pretty tired of walking/carrying my bike and just wanted to get to the powerline, to the road, and home.  When you're out in the woods and can only see a few dozen yards around you, it doesn't matter that you're not out in the wilderness of the Rockies - you can still get a little disoriented, especially when the sun goes down.  It's been a long time since Boy Scouts, so I was glad the GPS got me - finally - to the power line.

That was the good news.  The bad news was that following the powerline meant going either straight up, or straight down.  More hiking rather than biking.  But I didn't dare stray too far from the open sky of the 'line - at this point, the woods were getting pretty dark.

I knew from looking at the map that the "wilderness" area that I was romping around in wasn't all that vast, but I was relieved when - after what seemed like forever - I finally made it to the road.  Not the road I was expecting to make it to, mind you, but at least one I was familiar with - if not quite from this direction. 

With the terra firma of asphalt under my knobby tires, I hunkered down to time-trial home.  Going by road, I was further away from home than I expected to be, but when I checked my Garmin, my off-road adventure had been less than 5 miles.

Despite my first-time experience, I'm actually itchin' to get back out in the woods.  Maybe next time with someone who knows the trails and can give me some direction, literally and figuratively.  It'd be a little less scary then, I figure.

I've discovered, as many others have, that off-road riding is a nice change of pace for a roadie and provides some additional motivation to ride during the off season.  Mountain biking is certainly less fussy than road riding- from being able to just go out in jeans, to being able to resize a chain by just snapping on/off the "easy link", to just hosing off the mud for a couple minutes and pronouncing the bike "clean."  And nothing could prepare me for the difference between riding in the woods, and then having to ride on the road with cars.  The feeling - not to mention the noise - was profoundly different.  No wonder so many folks forsake the road for the trail.

I'm not going to set any distance records - not at an average speed of around five miles per hour - and I rue the day I didn't opt for at least some suspension on the bike - other than my arms and legs.  So I won't be hanging up my road bike anytime soon.  I'd miss the speed and being able to cover much, much more ground for the time I'm out.  But my "new" mountain bike provides a nice change of pace, helps me develop my handling skills (not to mention my tumbling skills), and motivates me to ride in a way the road bike doesn't.

And if it means more riding, that can't be bad at all.
 

Why Cycle Wednesday:Ride on an October Morning

As I mentioned in yesterday's post, I haven't been on the bike much lately.  Actually, no riding at all from Sept. 26 until Oct. 11.  But I'd changed my chain and cleaned the rest of my drivetrain to match (cassette - natch - but chainrings & jockey wheels too).  I'm certainly more motivated to ride a clean bike than a grimy one, but what finally got me on the road was the prospect of racing Monday on an untested bike.

The Missus and I were out all day Saturday and had plans after church on Sunday to continue our Fall Foliage Frolic through the Berkshires.  So that meant I had to get out early Sunday morning.  Early?  Score one on the anti-motivation side of the scale.

When I (surprisingly) woke up feeling pretty good Sunday morning, I checked the temperature.  34 degrees.  Coldest morning so far this season.  Add another point for anti-motivation.  Why oh why did I wait until literally the last possible time to test-ride my bike?

Despite this, I (over)dressed, got on the bike and headed out.  Other than the cold, it really was an ideal morning - the sun just coming up, the autumn leaves stunning.  I even got a bonus of some fog lifting off the river.

These pics are a chronicle of what turned out to be a great October Morning Ride - and more than tipped the scales to the motivation side. . .

I did my "Essex Loop."  It's only a little over 13 miles, but has a variety of terrain and views - including a couple switchbacks up and over a large (for this area) hill.  At the top of the climb, I saw this little group trying to avoid next month's holiday . . .

Continuing north along the Connecticut River, I spotted this scene.  I'm not usually out this early, so I wanted to be sure to catch the fog rising off the water - the sun just starting to claw its way above the horizon.

As I turned the corner to head into Essex village proper, the sun had peeked above the fog and ignited these trees.  They only look like they're on fire.

Main Street in Essex ends at this picket fence.  The fog is putting up a fight, but is slowly - and steadily - losing its grasp on the boats in the harbor.

In full retreat now, the fog provides the shot of the day.  End-of-Main, Essex.

This shot didn't come out quite as nice as I envisioned, but I include it anyway since I think it's cool we have a windmill so close by.

Speaking of having cool things so close by, this is the Essex Steam Train.  The combination of Autumn, biking, trains, and racing all in the same weekend really toyed with my OCD usually-rigid distinctions between the seasons.  But I managed alright. 

After turning south from the train station, I passed this field - an increasinly rare sight in this part of the state.  I hope someday my photography skills will help me better convey what I see, but for now scenes like this do all the heavy lifting for me.  Just point and shoot.

Same field, a little further south.  Wildflowers free for the picking.

As I continued south, I got in a couple hard efforts both to test the chain and to remind the legs what it's like to have to pedal fast.  Fortunately, there was one more cool scene I wanted to catch before packing the bike up for the race.

Up the road from my house, at the corner, there's a farmer's market/garden center.  If you have any doubt what season it is, you can just sneak a peek here - Christmas trees in December, mulch and plantings in the spring, sunflowers and others of all types in the summer, pumpkins and apples in the fall.

Of course, my favorite is the fall.  And it probably has something to do with this guy:

Meet "Oliver." Not sure if that's his actual name, but it's on his tractor so it'll do.  Despite a recent windstorm that took his hat (and then his head - yikes!), he's all better now, as you can see, and wishing you all a Happy Autumn!

First Masters Road Race - CHECK!

Newport Bridge from the Start/Finish

Let me first dispense with a recitation of facts which are typical of the casual bike racer this time of year:

• I haven't raced since August;
• (Before this past Sunday) I hadn't ridden my bike at all in over 2 weeks;
• It's been a long season (I've been racing since March) and I'm not very motivated to race.

With these facts playing on my mind, I went ahead and pre-registered for the Jamestown Road Race anyway.  Why?

• It is probably the most beautiful road race course in the region;
• With few substantial climbs, it is particularly suited to first-time road racers/crit racers;
• Despite its late position on the calendar (Columbus Day), the weather is usually good and it provides a nice punctuation mark to the end of the season;
• This would my first time racing with a new group of guys;
• Mrs. Suitcase loves this little taste of summer in the middle of October (full of sun, ocean, and bike racing).

And I couldn't disappoint Mrs. Suitcase now, could I?

I have to admit though, it was very tough to stay motivated to race this late in the year.  It didn't help that - Autumn being my favorite season - we spent most of Columbus Day Weekend listening to '40s music and roadtripping through the Berkshires looking at the foliage, drinking apple cider, and lusting after pumpkin pie.  These things do not mix well with bike racing.  Unless, of course, you race cyclocross (which I don't).

In fact, the only reason I got on my bike at all before yesterday's race was that I had just changed my chain and didn't think it advisable to race on an untested chain.  Good thing.  During my ride Sunday morning (pics to post tomorrow), I discovered that - while my chain hummed along nicely - I'd screwed up my rear mech adjustment.  Miraculously, I was able to dial it in perfectly for the race - my first time adjusting it so well.

So the bike was ready to go - I just didn't know whether *I* was.  On the way home from our trip Sunday night, I dusted off the "pre race" playlist and tried not to notice the strange juxtaposition of hard rock summer music and Autumn landscape.  It helped though.  By Monday morning I was ready to race - and had the pre-race jitters to prove it.

But this race was easier than most to enjoy rather than stress about.  It's so late that there aren't really any expectations.  It would be my first road race with the Masters group (includes Cat 1s and 2s), and only my second road race ever.  I figured finishing would be fine and if nothing else, it would be a nice - though hard - group ride around a beautiful island.

With such low expectations, I couldn't help but do better than expected.

 

The course is gently rolling with the biggest challenges being the wind, "cobbles" at the north end, and the "big" climb up Hamilton St. toward the end (it's that straight horizontal line 2/3 down the map).  The "cobbles" haven't changed since I raced here in 2006 - the road is still just as broken up and you have to watch for flying bottles.  This is where we got closest to crashing - somebody to the right over corrected and pushed a lot of us left.  But we all stayed upright.  The race had no crashes that I heard of.

Right after Hamilton (actually, a "left" since it's a left turn north at the top of the climb), you start heading downhill to the finish.  There's a long, sweeping S curve toward the bottom of the descent and at 200 meters to go, you get the entire road - no yellow line rule (lots of guys forget this).  The finish line itself is deceptively a long way off after the last turn, but it's always a fast finish - especially with a tail wind.

 

There were 66 starters in my race - but tons of people given all the races, all the racers and their families.  It's a big event in the area.

Here I am sporting my "stealth kit" of plain red jersey - distinguished only by the long-sleeve blue underlayer.  I'm raising my hand there in the middle of the pack (as always, you can click on the image to "imbiggin").

It was a chilly start, but I'd chosen the right amount of clothing (actually a little too warm by the end) and we warmed up fast.  The pace ramped up more slowly than in the typical crit, but with the yellow-line rule it was more difficult to move up.  By the time I got to the front, about 3/4 through the first lap, a 5 man break had gone up the road.  They got as much as 30 seconds away at one point.

Here's a photo of the break.

Unfortunately, there aren't a lot of photos.  Unlike a crit, where you have at least 20 - 30 chances to shoot as the racers go by, here you only have two chances.  There are only two laps around the island.  But if you're from the area and know where to position yourself, you can double your chances.  Fortunately friends Sarah and Jeff came to watch and - being from the area - stationed themselves right at the point where the course goes down to the lighthouse and then comes back up the major climb.

Lighthouse?  Yes - in quintessential New England fashion, this race goes around the "Beavertail" Lighthouse at the southwestern corner of the island.  You can see from the map where the lighthouse gets its name.  Unfortunately, none of us got pics yesterday of this highlight of the course, but click here for some from a ride we did a couple years ago.

Since I'd never done a Masters road race before, I didn't know how to gauge my effort.  I didn't want to blow up and get dropped, so once I'd learned there was a break up the road, I stayed sheltered hoping the other teams would bring it back.  Unfortunately, most of the others must have been thinking the same thing since the break ended up staying away.

But not for lack of trying by some of the teams - my teammates included.  There were five of us working together: Me, Esteban, TJ, David and Tom.  David, Esteban and TJ had good enough legs and tried to go with a few bridge attempts - David even closed one significant gap solo, and another with me assisting.  We all mostly leapfrogged each other in the pack and tried to make a race of it.  We got the break down to 20 seconds by the end, but it wasn't enough.

A few notable things during the course of the race:

• Maybe it was the course, the late season, or just luck, but it seems that road races - especially Masters road races - are very safe.  This was the safest I felt in any race this year, despite it being so long since I last raced.
• Deep-dish aero wheels are not that big an advantage when you have a strong cross wind.  In fact, racing across the causeway, I had to fight my front end a little.
• This was my longest race of the year.
• Consequently, this was the first time I needed to eat during a race.  It was probably not a good idea to try and get a GU out of my jersey pocket while wearing thick, full-fingered gloves (and riding handlebar-to-handlebar at 30mph).

While the pace had varied during most of the race, it predictably went into overdrive as we came down the last descent before the final climb.  We hit Hamilton fast and I went up quicker than I'd ever gone up it before, "pulled" by the pace of the other riders.  The guys that had been going so fast on the causeway just before the climb blew up and the biggest challenge - other than the climb itself, was threading through the blown up riders.

We hit the top and the 90 degree left turn and from that point on, nobody passed me.  I found a good wheel and followed him to about 200 meters to go, then realized he was holding me up - I could go faster.  So I came around him and - with the downhill and a slight tailwind - didn't bother to shelther behind anyone else.  I was going faster than them anyway.

Despite how impressive that all may sound, I'd obviously not worked hard enough early enough.  I started too far back and was the 24th guy over the line (but 19th after the 5 man break - ha!).  It was a fairly fast race though - 25.4 mph avg over 38 miles.

You can see the full results here and all the details from my Garmin (detailed route map, elevation profile, etc) here.

Not only was this my first Masters Road Race, it'll be my first attempt at "produced" video!  Yes, Mrs. Suitcase shot the raw video as she usually does but in addition to the usual finish line footage, she shot the start as well.  I tried putting them together.  I hope you like the result (hopefuly I'll get better at it).

There are a lot of things about the Jamestown Classic that make it a great race.  It's very well-organized and everything goes very smoothly.  They focus on Juniors and beginner racers, offering a number of different races for all levels (except, notably, Cat 1, 2, 3) - they even have a "fun" race that's not competitve.  Of course, as you can see from the pics, it's an absolutely stunning venue.

You also get to see friends, other racers you recognize from other races, and past and present teammates, one last time before the off season.  Like Mrs. Suitcase says, it's one last taste of summer right here in the middle of fall.  That's the best part of Jamestown for me.  Try it out for yourself and see if you don't agree.

One final view of the Newport Bridge.  For MANY more pics of the race, be sure to check out Sarah's blog here.  If you raced, you'll probably find a pic of yourself there...

Why Cycle Wednesday:October Riding

 (from Liberty Magazine, October 1946)

October has something for every one of your senses: The sight of leaves blazing with color, the sound of those same leaves as they crackle under your feet, the taste of pumpkin pie and apple crisp, the feel of the axe handle as you chop wood for the up-coming winter, the smell of woodsmoke as fireplaces and stoves are rekindled.

When you ride your bike in October, the hum of your tires is accompanied by the rustle of squirrels gathering acorns.  The sun - which has its own golden tinge this time of year - sits lower in the sky, giving even familiar routes a different look.  If you're out in the early morning, the air will chill your fingers and toes, and you'll swear you can taste the frost.

I am embarrassed to admit I have not yet ridden my bike this October, but seeing scenes like this and remembering what it's like should fire my motivation.  If it doesn't, you'd better get somebody to check my pulse.

Off Topic:The Future is an Empty Room

Apologies for the off-topic post, but not much riding/racing to report lately.

However, I would be very interested in what you think about the following article.

http://www.popmatters.com/pm/feature/the-future-is-an-empty-room

And in a not-such-a-stretch attempt to bring it back on-topic, consider what sort of towns/cities you would most like to bike in/through.

(and try not to consider the irony of bringing up this topic on a blog)

Motivation Monday:Need Some Motivation

I'm not asking you - as in "Need Some Motivation?" - cuz you ain't gonna get any here, unfortunately.  I can't give what I don't have.

I'm telling you - as in "I Need Some Motivation."

I have my last race of the season two weeks from today - the Jamestown Classic Road Race - and for some reason, over the last couple of weeks, my motivation has tanked.  Actually, it's more like a black hole of motivation - sucking all surrounding motivation into its vortex.

Beware.  You've been warned.

What do you do to motivate yourself to ride this time of year?  I know - many of you race 'cross and that gets you through.  Don't tell me.  I'm not doing 'cross.  At least not now.

One encouraging sign on the horizon is mountain biking.  I'm building up my old Parkpre, full rigid MTB from 1996.  But it's not done yet - I still need some parts for it.

And that won't help me between now and Columbus Day.

So send me a comment letting me know what you do to get yourself out on the bike - or at least on the trainer - after the inevitable post-road season burnout hits you.  Hopefully together, we can keep each other going a bit longer . . .

68 Years Ago Today:A Sunday Group Ride

September 21, 1941 was a Sunday, an early autumn day in Southern New England, clear and mild.

World War Two had been raging in Europe for exactly two years.  The German army had advanced into the Soviet Union that summer and was riding high on the success of having already conquered most of Western Europe.  France had just been split into German-occupied and Vichy zones the previous month.

It wasn't learned until much later that at some point in the days leading up to September 21, 1941, there was an important meeting concerning Nazi Germany's capacity to develop nuclear weapons.  We thought the atomic age didn't start until four years later.

We didn't yet have to Remember Pearl Harbor.

On this particular Sunday, the Japanese were celebrating the 10 year anniversary of occupying China's northeast territory of Manchuria.  At some point during that same day, perhaps as some sign of heaven's outrage at such an audacious celebration, the sun was blacked out during a total eclipse visible in most of China - from just northeast of the Black Sea to the Pacific ocean.

Just three weeks earlier, the Japanese government assured President Roosevelt that it had "no imperialist designs on any foreign nation."

Britain had survived the Blitz, which ended that May - the same month Glenn Miller first recorded "Chattanooga Choo Choo" which was featured in a hit movie starring Sonja Henie.  "Blue Champagne" by the Jimmy Dorsey Orchestra was the #1 song on September 21, but "Sun Valley Serenade" was released to theaters exactly a month earlier.  By then "Chattanooga Choo Choo" was already a top ten on the Hit Parade, well on its way to becoming the first gold record ever the following February.  It was the nation's #1 hit by December.

Bobby soxers fed the voracious appetite of juke boxes across the country and made Frank Sinatra the top male vocalist that year.

Families had probably gone to church that Sunday morning in Connecticut, though some navy yard workers may have slept in having worked so hard to launch the Gato Class submarine USS Greenling (SS-213) at the Electric Boat Co., Groton the previous day.  Many were marking the 3 year anniversary of the Great New England Hurricane that devastated the Connecticut coast and rendered Hollywood screen siren Katherine Hepburn temporarily homeless, having to rebuild her family's home in Old Saybrook.

But there was no sign of bad weather this September 21 and at least a few folks took advantage of the beautiful Sunday afternoon to do what many of the readers of this blog do on Sundays.

They went on a group ride.

There aren't many left that remember the "Hobby Trains" run by the New York, New Haven & Hartford Railroad (the "New Haven") during the late 1930s and early 1940s.  In an effort to boost ridership, the New Haven took advantage of the fact that their railroad connected the Great Metropolis of New York with New England.  There were camp trains in the summer and ski trains in the winter.  Photography specials in the spring and all year 'round.  But what better time for a Bike Train than Autumn and what better place than the Berkshire Hills?

Thanks to a recent discovery of raw film footage by the NHRHTA, we can go back to that Sunday 68 years ago today and enjoy the sights of a pre-war group ride.  You'll have to pedal your single-speed cruiser over a bunch of rollers before you get to the picnic.  Don't worry if you have to walk up some of the hills - and girls, be sure to mind your skirts that they don't get caught in the spokes.  There are no "rest stops" as we think of today - bits of orange and Powerbars - but an entire spread complete with potato salad, Boston baked beans, chicken and watermelon awaits us.

So give your Schwinn, Columbia or Raleigh to the porter to put in the baggage car, give the conductor your ticket, and enjoy the trip.  The train is about to arrive at the station . . .

Every Racer Should Read This Post

"Race well, race with dignity, race with a conscience."

SDC (aka "Sprinter Della Casa"), local long-time racer and promoter of the well-known Bethel Spring Series, has just published a post on his blog that I think is important for every racer, promoter and official to read.

I don't often (ok, I don't think I've ever) just had a post that pointed to another post, but I frankly don't think I could add anything or say what he said any better.

So click here.  Read it.  Live it.

Why Cycle Wednesday:Folks on Spokes

Thanks for all the helpful suggestions on how to convert my Super8 videocassettes to digital.  I got quite an education - not the least of which was discovering that I do not in fact have a Hi8 camcorder, but just a plain ol' Super8.  I'll probably end up hooking it up to a DVR and see what happens.  Hopefully I'll have some videos to share with you soon.  If I do, you know my experiment was successful.

Actually, your helpfulness would itself make an appropriate post for Why Cycle Wednesday.  Why cycle? Because the folks you meet are so generous with their time and eager to share their knowledge.  So thank you!

Another reason to cycle - especially this time of year - is Charity Rides.  As I mentioned in my last post, I participated in the Folks on Spokes ride to benefit local mental health and addiction recovery programs.  It was the third time I've done it and it's always a favorite, being essentially a Tour of Milford, Orange and West Haven, CT.  Having lived in Milford for so many years, I couldn't NOT do it and it was great to see the old stomping grounds, and catch up with some old friends too.

I rode again with friend Larry and new-friend Jim and we opted for the 65 mile route out to Branford and back.  As you'll see from the pics, almost the entire route goes along the water and we had absolutely perfect early Autumn weather - all clear blue sky and low humidity.

So come along for the ride.  And be sure to click on the pics if you want a larger, more detailed view.

The ride starts behind the Milford Public Library where there's ample parking, a pavilion and even actual bathrooms (no portapotties here).  Registration is under the big white tent and you get a goodie bag and an ID bracelet.  The smaller tent to the left is for the sponsor shop, Tony's Bikes & Sports - my old LBS and a bunch of great guys too.  They were there not only to make any last minute repairs and adjustments (the ride attracts a lot of newbies and occasional-only riders), but to offer fundraising prizes too.

The start is on the other side of the pavilion next to Milford Harbor.  The ride is staged by distance option and since we were going the longest distance, we started earliest.  And you can see, there weren't THAT many that decided to go long this day.  But fortunately for the fundraising effort, I understand there were many, many more that showed up for the "classic" 40 miler (that route is so classic that it's actually marked with permanent metal signposts!)

After the pre-ride instructions, we were off and within 10 minutes were along the shoreline.  This is Gulf Beach and Larry is right there in the corner, keeping pace.

Another shot, this one along the shore in Woodmont (east Milford).

West Haven Beach.  Almost all of these photos were taken at speed, so excuse any strange angles or composition.

Lest you think the entire ride was as pretty as the initial pics would lead you to believe, this is New Haven.  Specifically the Tomlinson Bridge over the Quinnipiac River.  The (in)famous Q Bridge (I-95) is off to the left.  The Tomlinson is remarkable in that it accomodates both vehicular traffic as well as a railroad - and the entire span lifts.  It's the largest lift span on the East Coast and the second heaviest in the USA.  But beware of the tracks crossing on the other side - they're at an angle and a little dangerous.

This also is New Haven - a much prettier part, on the east side of the harbor.  Considering I was going about 20mph at this point, the composition of this shot is pure luck.  We're heading toward Lighthouse Point in the distance.

And here's the lighthouse itself.  For another, earlier pic from this blog ("BC") check out this link.  What a difference a few years makes...

And all I had to do was turn 180 and got this dramatic shot of the harbor, with the City of New Haven in the distance.

After our brief stop, we continued on to Branford where I got this shot, literally at our turning-around point.  I think that may be a Great Blue Heron, but I'll leave verification of his/her identity to the orinthologists that read this blog.

We made our way back the way we came, retracing our route and enjoying the now-tail wind.  Once we got back to West Haven, we picked up the classic FOS route and pedaled into the old farming town of Orange where I got this shot of one of the last farms standing.  The town seems more focused on growing crops of houses these days, so shots like this are becoming increasingly rare.

The rest of the ride followed the normal route through the rest of Orange and the northern part of Milford, going back down to the shore.  The most remarkable part of this section of our journey was the shortcut we took through Silver Sands state park.  I'd never ridden my race bike off road before, but once I got over worrying about my wheels and stone chips on the frame, I had a blast.  This little taste of cyclocross has me chomping at the bit to try more trail riding later this fall.

We logged a total of 64.5 miles and I was tempted to circle the lot to make it an even 65, but I gave up after only one lap.  The apres ride pizza was calling and I wanted to get packed up and home to the Mrs to enjoy the rest of what turned out to be a spectacular day thanks to good friends, a worthy cause, and a great ride.