Catchin' up

Summer is in full swing. Long, hazy, but not so lazy days. Warm, crazy, not so restful nights. So a brief recap...

A few weeks ago I squeezed in my longest ride of the season late on a Sunday. I decided to put in some "road" miles and follow the Erie Canal east as far as I dare go and still get back to town with some daylight. I've been chasin' the final rays of the sun a great deal in recent times so what the hell, right?

I felt really good on the way out, stopping at Byrne Dairy in East Syracuse for a Snickers. I had two bottles of Gatorade, enough to get me through by all accounts. I cruised through the roads until jumping on the canal path in Dewitt. East must be downhill because I made good time, even on a road bike with tires at 100psi squirrelling all over stonedust and mud. Of course I passed through areas where hissing geese guarded this year's brood of goslings... but nothing to worry about, right?

I hit Canastota at around 7:30 and knew I'd need to hustle to make it back before dark. I grabbed a soda (aka caffeine fix) at a pizza shop and took in a few glimpses of downtown. Like many upstate villages, Canastota is rich with history and you can tell there is a unique story to be told underneath the rich patina covering its buildings. One hopes someday we start to revalue these places.

As I headed back east, a light mist began to fall. Not so bad. Within a mile or so, it'd changed to be a steady rain. Great. 24+ miles to go in wet clothes. Combines with the short break and small food consumption level, I was beginning to fade. Ah, none the less, it was my legs or nothing to get back so I cranked on. I turned the iPod a little louder and was more selective with my KEXP podcast selections.

All was going well, albeit slower, and the sky began to clear so I stopped for a few photos. Just after a few capturing a few images of a particularly rural locale - and it is rural in 2010, imagine what it was like in 1850... - I ran into the geese again. I thought I knew what the proper buffer of respect between man and goose was but apparently, I entered the DMZ of one particularly protective goose. In a split second, it was on top of my helmet, flapping, honking, hissing, nipping. Fortunately, webbed feet and plastic have a very low coefficient of friction and the goose slid off. By now, I was half off the bike. The goose regrouped and was on me for a second go. Same scenario. Fortunately, none of the nips were landed and it slid off onto the opposite side, between me and the bike. I'd completely dismounted now and, as it regrouped and moved in for its third assault, I raised the bike perpendicularly as my own DMZ. This confounded the attacker, still honking, flapping, nipping, and it backed off. During what lasted probably all of 30 seconds, the partner and goslings had made it safely into the canal. Attacker backed off and joined them. Heart pounding, adrenaline rushing, I checked quickly for any sign of damage to the bike and person, and decided to get the heck out of there. Unfortunately, another goose family was 20 feet away, probably laughing, and not really getting out of the way - I'd just been bested by an 8 pound goose after all... I gave the an excessively wide berth and pedaled off. I contemplated for the rest of the ride, in between shouts and claps at all the subsequent geese I came across, how to introduce the respect needed between all to common Canada geese and those of us on the trail. The most effective idea was a pellet gun, also the most likely to get one jailed. The most likely to be implemented was the air horn.

I rode on and in to the city at just before dark, and 1.1 miles short of 50. It was an interesting and rejuvenating ride.

Having been very flat after leaving work the past weekdays, I've not taken full advantage of the late nights to go riding other than last Friday. I went out to Bear Swamp with a friend and we cruised around the trails. I'd forgotten my helmet and glasses so didn't push it too hard - most of the time. The helmet, I learned, also protects against bug bites. It is also very different to ride sans brain bucket. Surprisingly "free" in a weird way. Not something I'll do given the choice otherwise, but there certainly was a different, less inhibiting feeling. My friend's luck at Bear Swamp hasn't yet proven lucky, as the last time he rode there many year's back he broke his rear hub. Same result this time.

On Sunday, I hiked at Finger Lakes National Forest with a friend from work. We explored some trails I'd never been on (for the most part) in all the other hike's I've done there. I learned that jewel weed, when submerged, presents a very interesting metallic sheen. We saw a lone cedar waxwing, a few toads, a salamander, and a very tiny frog, while hearing plenty of wood thrushes, oven birds, eastern towhees, and veerys. On our way back, we took a trip along through Montezuma Wildlife Refuge, where we saw a great blue heron and four immature turkey vultures.

Would be nice if bike rides and walks in the woods were as plentiful as work days.

Someone very wise once said...

"When the spirits are low, when the day appears dark, when work becomes monotonous, when hope hardly seems worth having, just mount a bicycle and go out for a spin down the road, without thought on anything but the ride you are taking."
- Arthur Conan Doyle

Is it worth it? [Erratics]

Of course it is. [Maybe]

Last week I took a few days off to spend time with my brother while he was passing through town on his way from CO to ME. It was great to see him, spend time with all the family together, get in some good riding and a DMB show. Leaving work for a few days was good but I paid for it for most of this week (where the question comes from) by scrambling to answer emails, address questions, and get back up to speed on everything. Monday ended with the receipt an email informing me I had improperly filled out a form that jeopardizes our organization's next year of a federal grant. Fun. Needless to say, I was not in a good place. That day, I took advantage of the late sunset (8:41pm) to defrag the craziness, and frustration, by ripping through Green Lakes. Tasted a lot of blood - av'd 10.8 mph on a loop that I usually average 6 or 7. It felt great and even contained an experience that was symbolic of the day. As I was cruising through a corner, cranking to keep the momentum going, I caught a pedal, which resulted in me getting thrown to the ground. I haven't crashed in a while so it was a bit of a shock. But instead of dwelling on how I'd f'd up, I evaluated the situation - nothing broken, just some dirt tattoos - and got back on the bike, back up to speed, and on I went. Now to extrapolate said experience to the bigger picture... that would be nice.

[Break]

At times I feel like I stand at the very edge of a raging mudflow of activity. Creating its own gravity, this frenzy of activity generates more speed, and sucks in all it touches. Like standing on the edge of a train platform as the express rushes past, the compressed air at the front blowing me off my feet. But I don't, instead I get sucked into the vacuum in its wake. I struggle to right myself, grasping for stable objects. But everything is spinning, whirling, rushing, tumbling, sometimes faster, sometimes slower, but always moving. Caught in some twisted crazy game of Frogger, I flail erratically grasping, dodging, treading. Sometimes I reach a ledge, a safe zone to cling to momentarily, maybe even use all my strength to pull myself out of the torrent. In this space, I reflect. Never good, but done nonetheless. The allure of the current is too great, and I will inevitably be drawn back for another escapade.

[Break]

Do you ever wonder about the nature of deja vu? I know it is the experience of feeling like you are repeating an experience of something you have only done once. But for a while now I've had a different type of experience, one I don't feel is deja vu. I don't feel like I've experienced it before in real life, but I do feel like I've dreamt that I was going through whatever situation I am in. Unfortunately, these moments typically occur when I am not in a place to stop, soak in the surroundings, but it is a weird, curious, interesting feeling. They are usually mundane activities, like filling out papers, but infrequently these have involved people I meet for the first time ever or are reconnected to after many years apart. Maybe I should start recording my dreams to see if I am really experiencing these things or am just going further and further into the deep end.

And finally, why do I share these thoughts with who ever will read about it through zeros and ones? I used to burden people around me with this by talking to them. Now we talk about the weather. Strangers, friends, loved ones, read this as a grain of sand for I am but one insignificant molecule of an infinite organism.