Epic Cycle

The epic cycle was, well, epic: nine days, 600 miles, from Syracuse, NY to the UCC General Synod in Grand Rapids, MI. The stated purpose of the ride was "to protest U.S. oil gluttony," but (this being a group of UCC folk) I imagine there were at least as many reasons for riding as there were riders. For my part, I'm concerned about global warming and reducing my carbon footprint, which I increasingly see not only as a matter of environmental stewardship but also as a matter of intergenerational justice. I wanted to give slow travel a try, in a meaningful way, on a major trip.

Here's our intrepid group at Mile 0, Fairmount Community Church in Syracuse. How fresh and eager we look! And, yes, I was the only woman rider (and the only layperson) for the first half of the tour.



The tour was supported, meaning a SAG vehicle carried luggage, snacks, and bike stuff and picked up riders unable to continue. The support staff narrative is inextricably intertwined with the riders narrative, not least because I injured my knee and experienced the tour from both perspectives.



As I was telling Heather, when on tour it's surprising how quickly one reality drops away, to be replaced by quite a different normal. For example, "normal" people stay indoors when it's raining or hot. Bikers bike on. "Normal" people are accustomed to amenities. Bikers, um....



Sometimes the riding was very sweet...



... sometimes not so much. Notice the shredded tires and tubes – the bike shop dude had never seen the like and was impressed.



Our master wrench (and his apprentice) did a lot of repairs on the road or in the evenings – one of the many things I appreciate about bicycles is one can do most repairs oneself. When we needed parts, we discovered the best way to find a local bike shop is to call the local library. Librarians rock! The reference librarian in Grand Rapids, a biking librarian, even offered to lend me a bike after I shipped mine home. (So just imagine the awesomeness of a knitting biking librarian.)



Along the way, I picked up a funky bike tan (helmet line, sleeve line, glove line including tiny spots matching the perforations, shorts line, socks line) that, because we were mostly headed west and the sun was mostly in the south, was darker on my left side than on my right. I was constantly re-adjusting my helmet straps – at first I thought they were stretching, but it would seem my chin fat was shrinking (!). I developed a rather alarming craving for protein and apparently activated some kind of mutant accelerated healing factor that at the same time suppressed immune, inflammatory, and allergic reactions. But most amazing to me was how quickly the men got stronger. Some were uncomfortable with frank appraisal of male beauty (the guys who whinged the most about "objectification" also loved the bar sign, eyeroll) – I marvel at their strength, grace, and hardihood.

Two day riders and four distance riders joined the group at various points – we were ten riding into Grand Rapids. It was 97° F (36° C) and humid, a record high for the date. We looked correspondingly charming on arrival at First Park Congregational Church.



After riding the entire trip without incident, I crashed on arrival in the parking lot – deliberately, as my options were be hit by a car or hit a post. I trust gentle readers will not be scandalized to learn my first thought was, "Oh... shit." Happily, my mad biking skillz include knowing how to crash: in biking, unlike driving, a well-managed head-on collision can be safer than a glancing impact, so I aimed straight for the post, braced my arms, pressed hard on the pedals to lower my center of gravity to prevent being thrown over the handlebars, hit the post squarely with the front tire, bounced off, braked hard, balanced for a moment, then gently fell over sideways. And nobody got hurt!

Ride's end was General Synod in Grand Rapids. The mayor says it was the biggest convention to date in his fair city. The view of the Grand River was quite appealing.



As gentle readers have endured my blathering about Synod before now, suffice to say the vision that sustained me whilst riding was this: in the far background, the sun setting over Lake Michigan; in the near background, Grand Rapids shining in the westering light like the city on the hill; in the foreground, a giant platter of homemade cookies!!! Thank you, Michigan Conference UCC, I was not disappointed (sorry, Joan, for eating Detroit first). At Synod, UCC = unlimited coffee and cookies.



Reflecting on the tour, I'm deeply grateful I got to know such a great bunch of bikers and devoted support staff. The nine days were intensely intimate yet peculiarly limited. Being book-larnèd church folk, some in the group wrestled a bit with language to describe the experience – gemeinde or koinonia, community, which some would contrast with congregation. I dunno. Maybe it's sufficient to say it was an out-of-car experience.



As for The Cause of small carbon footprint slow travel, it can be done! And if by me, then by pretty much anybody. My key learning was that paradigm shift I mentioned to Heather. Previously, I'd biked decently long distances, a metric century (100 km or 62 mi), but always as a day ride in loops. Now I know it's entirely do-able to bike long distances as a way to get from one place to another. Even for a cyclist with mad skillz, that's a significant conceptual breakthrough.

And if getting there was epic, well, so was getting back. To be continued.

The Pause

Lanae linumque nodo
It's said the classic place to begin an epic cycle is in medias res [in the middle of things]. Having just returned from an epic cycle – a bike tour from Syracuse, NY to Grand Rapids, MI and a train journey from Grand Rapids to Chicago to NYC to Exit 151, I would hazard the middle of things would be the pause in between, la paz, that refreshes. For me, that would be this vision of paradise terrestrial. Ah!



Put another way, while in Grand Rapids I hopped on the #6 Eastown bus (which has bike racks!) to City Knitting, a friendly, full-service LYS full of all that's good and fibery. The helpful staff [hi, Lorilee!] made a weary out-of-town knitter feel like a cherished regular. I can think of no higher praise.



There's a knitted U.S. flag adorning the interior hallway leading to the shop. I neglected to ask after its story, but I'm sure it's a good one.



Inside, the yarn is sensibly organized by weight, with an entire room devoted to sock and lace yarn (!!!). I was very restrained and contented myself with a skein of locally dyed Yarn Hollow Elemental (63% Superwash Merino, 20% silk, 15% nylon, 2% silver) for a prayer shawl, some Yarn Hollow 80/20 Merino Tussah roving for the Tour de Fleece, Addi circulars with the new, blue cable, and Summer 2009 Spin-Off.



I immediately cast on for the shawl. I can't decide if the new, blue is all that much better than the old, tan. But I am very certain that knitting kept me peaceable through some inane spectacles that involved adults buzzing like 'skeeters. Then there was the theological claim that made me briefly channel Jonathan Edwards, it made me so angry. Yikes. I must be getting good at this knitting thing – my gauge didn't tighten up. Or maybe new, blue really is all that.

Jumping forward from remembrances past, Designs by Romi is having a sale, see Rosemary's happy bluebird post for details and a chance to win (!) one of her beauteous shawl pins.

What – Huh?

I must have missed the memo while I was away. Were I an organized blogger, I would have posted this post this morning. Given that it's evening, QED. Apparently TdF spinners were supposed to state goals and post pix of their first day's work.

My goal for the duration is to turn this excellent Yarnaboard! prize from Lisa, Crown Mountain Farms Sock Hop roving, colorway Blue Suede Shoes...



... into sock yarn sufficient for one pair of socks. Here's today's progress.



Sock Hop is lovely to spin – it flows smoothly onto the spindle almost without pre-drafting. There's 8 oz (227 g) of it, putatively enough for several pair, so I'll stop around 400 yds (365 m) plied. Allez!

WWKIP 1

Happy Worldwide Knit in Public Day, old calendar! Today I'm knitting on the road, which hopefully will afford many opportunities to participate in the SKA Second Annual WWKIP Day Scavenger Hunt.



Things are a bit hectic, but I hope to post pictorial evidence of KIPing as soon as I can get some computer time. In the meantime, here's another singleton cycling sock, worked in ONline Supersocke 100 Holiday Color 998.



Keep on KIPing!

ETA: Despite a promising start, it turned out that my WWKIP Day, old calendar, was spent at the conference from hell. KIPing occurred, but there is no pictorial evidence. When one makes good an escape from the conference from hell, one gits without looking back and without taking scavenger hunt pix.

My WWKIP Day, new calendar, was also spent on the road, literally, so there was no KIPing that day, alas.

Bike the Greenway

There's been much busyness off-blog lately, but I finally finished the striped cycling anklets and, inspired by the sign, took them on a 25-mile guided bicycle tour of a New York portion of the East Coast Greenway. Or perhaps they took me. In any case, I brought my own bike (rentals are available from the Bike and Roll stands along the Greenway).

The East Coast Greenway is the cycling analog of the Appalachian Trail, except instead of linking mountaintops via ridgeline hiking trails, its growing network of bicycle routes will connect cities and towns on the East Coast from the Florida Keys to Canada. Like the AT, local ECG segments have their own names and are under local authority and care. Much of the extant route is car-free, but at present there are gaps, so the tour was a progress report of sorts.

The start of the ride was at Slave to the Grind near the Metro-North train station in Bronxville, which obligingly gave out free coffee to riders. It's hard to take coherent pix of a bunch of grumpy pre-caffeinated bicyclists, but I tried.



The ride south through the Bronx was a tale of two cities, indeed, two worlds. One of the most telling gaps in the greenway is at the Bronx-Westchester border, which is barred like a fortress along an otherwise placid stretch of the Bronx River. From there, about half of the time the greenway makes easy meanders on unpaved bike trails through sylvan parks; the rest of the time it's on paved, very urban streets and includes inclines steep enough to make my bike throw its chain (which was easily fixed).

Once in northern Manhattan, we had to stop for a photo op, because there really is a Little Red Lighthouse under the Great Gray George Washington Bridge. By this time the cyclists were looking a bit more perky.



I have never yet managed the arduous climb from the foot of the bridge to street level without dismounting. Coming the other way, the precipitous descent and narrow hairpin turn are even more terrifying! I bow low to all those who swept 'round and down without flinching – I flinched.



From the GWB south, the Hudson River Greenway is flat, graced with rose gardens, shade gardens, and many other amenities of a great city, and heavily used. There are long stretches that are completely car-free and other places that are car-free but crossed by auto traffic. Those intersections are equipped with the best traffic signals I have ever seen.

It's tempting to ride ass-out on the long straightaways, but that was where I saw the only accident of the day, when an adult cyclist not in our group crashed rather than run over a child who darted into the right-of-way. The kid was unhurt, there were no broken bones or bikes, but for a while the cyclist bled surprisingly copiously from a shallowly gashed calf. People who stopped generously proffered a wide assortment of hankies, tissues, wipes, sanitizers, antibiotics, band-aids, and potent analgesics in quantities sufficient to stun several charging rhinoceri. (Hey, this is NYC.) The injured cyclist was soon patched up and in the saddle again.

Ride's end was Battery Park, which was thronged with people enjoying the lovely day, not least those waiting to board the Liberty Island ferry. The observation deck in the Statue of Liberty's crown has been closed since 9/11, but on July 4 will re-open to the public. Yet another reason to love the current administration.



(If I had to be critical of the ECG, it would be that it's very focused on bicycle recreation and tourism. I certainly enjoy both, but my own advocacy interests tend toward commuter cycling for commuters of all ages, such as Safe Routes to School. The difference between mindsets, bicycle = recreation and bicycle = transportation, can be small, but it's often profound.)

After a well-deserved lunch at L&L Hawaiian Barbecue and a long drive home in heavy auto traffic, my new cycling socks were still fresh and comfortable.



I think I must make many more pairs.