Embracing Winter

This week, here in the western side of Massachusetts we're seeing low's in the negative single digits, and highs in the low to mid teens, not counting wind chill. The better part of a foot of snow covers everything but road, sidewalk and parking lot. Lanes are narrowed by the snow and vast amounts of courage is required to brave the weather, courage I don't seem to have.

Instead, I've been expanding my winter horizons. Saturday was a night time snow storm hike up Mt. Toby and back with a friend. Our boots crunched their way through the packed trail to the top and back. The views were minimal but it was a great experience.

Sunday afternoon saw another hike but with snowshoes after the late night snowfall, my first time with them, up Mt. Skinner with my new housemate Paul. We picked the steepest parts of the slope to test our snow shoes, really a combination of snow shoe and crampon that digs into the ice with sharp spikes.

Tuesday was spent sampling groundwater wells, a sixteen hour day of lugging awkward shaped objects around a field and getting drenched with cold groundwater.

Last night saw the toboggan in force, down "Hospital Hill" a good dozen times with two friends.

I guess I'm starting to feel that embracing winter sports and weather works out much better for me than trying to stay on the bike all season, through the numb fingers, toes and face. My bikes aren't going anywhere, and things will be much more enjoyable if I can pick and choose the days that I ride.

That said, I'm off to buy some boots for the nordic ski's my aunt gave me, and a warmer pair of gloves.

Cycling and Adventure

When I was much younger, I always loved stories of adventure and historical fiction. Looking back now, I realize that living such an easy life of a suburban child lead me to reach out for things outside school, friends and family. I loved books like the Redwall series, the adventures of a group of animals in a medieval setting, so much so that I was reading a hundred pages a sitting before my 10th birthday. As a teenager, video games slowly but surely replaced this need for something more exciting than the never ending repetition of New Jersey suburban living. I even did some online role playing games, as well as adventure video games. The biggest part to me was not knowing what would happen next. I never tried to predict the ending to books, movies or games because I didn't want to ruin the surprise. Eventually it became more of an addiction than a hobby, and I now see I was an escapist. I didn't like my status in life; not athletic, not popular, not hansome or confident, not especially intelligent but just that funny dorky kid. All these things were things I wasn't, so instead I turned from books to video games to become someone else while convincing myself I didn't want those things.

Five years ago I started riding a bike, mainly for transportation around Philadelphia; the city I came to for undergrad, mainly because of the school and my brother who lived there also, though we were far from close. I say riding a bike because I wasn't a cyclist; I rarely rode for fun, and my longest trips were a few miles to Old City and back. Soon I started taking more of an interest in it, mainly the mechanical aspects which fascinated me as an engineering student so I began volunteering at a local bike co-operative to learn to and teach others how to fix bikes. Before I was really riding a bike for the sake of riding, I already knew how to overhaul anything on it, as well as what were considered quality components. After supplementing my knowledge with the internet, I finally bought a real road bike, a Miyata 310. My friends did messenger races in the city, so I started to as well and realized how fun riding could be.

Over the next few years riding evolved into 20 mile rides, to 40 mile rides centuries, 200ks, to a 2,000 mile bike tour last summer. Today I realized that riding was fighting my addiction to video games. The more I was into cycling the less time I spent on the computer as well as reading to an extent. Today I hardly play at all though the temptation is always there. The reason for this is the adventure inherent in cycling has overcome my need for escapism. I no longer have anything to escape from, the worries of childhood are gone. I have good friends, and given the time and the motivation my legs can take me almost anywhere I want to go while having all kinds of unexpected adventures along the way. There are so many unexpected things that could happen, from crashing to feeling great, to meeting someone on the road or finally breaking that personal best.

Just like a video game where the more time you spend the better your avatar gets, the more you ride the faster and trimmer you become. As evidence of this, I was once 190 lbs Freshman year and last fall I weighed a trim 152 lbs at 5' 9". I see physical evidence of the time on my bike in the size and definition of my legs, as well as increasing average speeds on common routes. Goals are set and broken and the same feeling of rewarding is there.

The part of my personalty that feed it's self on video games has been converted to cycling, and I hope I never go back.

My Saturday Ramble

This is a repost of a thread on bikeforums.net I posted a while back.

Life hasn't been too great lately and the little daylight I could use for riding didn't seem to be helping. I had been too concerned with average speeds, heart rates and numbers. After reading an article about a forgotten tower, I picked a few other destinations and threw a route linking them together. Leaving the computer at home release me from the pressures of average speeds and allowed me to stop and take photo's, chat with locals and ask for directions when I was only slightly lost instead of completely. This is very unusual for me as I typically pride myself on completing a ride without stopping, and keep track of how fast I go over a given course. Stopping to take pictures, asking for directions and chatting with a few random people must have decimated my average speed, but today I couldn't have cared less, and it couldn't have been better.

Anyway, on with the pictures.

I loaded up the fred mobile with anything to help fix the mechanical problems that never seem to happen, a cliff bar and some water. The fenders helped early on when the roads were still wet from last night's downpour.



The weather hovered around in the 50's all day, but I had to turn back and get my gloves.



I passed by Mount Holyoke College, admired the architecture and kept riding.


I used to think this building was a church, but it's an incredible library.


A local road has been closed to fix a bridge that washed out, so I decided to check on construction. It looks to be almost done.



Built in 1867, this cemetery would be considered "young" around here.


I wonder if this fellow had anything to do with "Smith College", over in Northampton.


A few miles later and I start the ascent to the top of Mount Holyoke. Called the 'halfway house', this is no where close to halfway but does signify the end of the steepest grades.


One of multiple switchbacks up the mountain. You can see the wooden guardrail up and to the left.


I don't think I'm in danger of speeding.


Almost there and you're already rewarded.


The Summit House, about 850' of elevation gain from the road below.


The Connecticut River meanders in the distance.


"Real America"


The Fred Mobile awaits the descent at the stairs of the summit house.


After a cautious descent along wet leaves and switch backs, and another 5 miles north I continue the fredosity with a bike path headed west.


Did I mention it's covered in gold?


Crossing the Connecticut on the old rail bridge. It's rusty iron girders used to hold a much weighter load than me and my bike.


After getting lost, an old couple on bikes directs me down this dirt road, the one on my cue sheet, now back towards the south.



I'll be climbing the edge of that ridge later. Still headed south.



Mt. Tom looms in the distance. The retiree's tell me the road to the top is badly dilapidated.



My favorite road sign.



After the ascent I get lost again, talk to some folks doing yard work and the point me up a dirt path to find Scott Tower. After hiking up a short slope, the tower pokes it's head out.



If I had known how badly this picture came out, I would have snapped another one. There's better pictures here.



This staircase winds it's way up to the top. I carefully clacked up it in my road cleats.



The city of Holyoke sprawls out beneath the top of the tower.



Mt. Holyoke is much further away now, but just as ominous.



From the tower I can see still more mountains to cross on another day.


I talked to a few people who had also read the newspaper article and were busy cleaning up some of the garbage strewn around the tower. A guy on a motorcycle showed up, and says the road to the bottom is in good shape, so I descend down it, past a playground and under a highway. Getting lost for still another time eventually brings me to the urban decay of Holyoke.



It looks much nicer from a another bridge over the Connecticut river.



This dam is very close to home, and provides electricity for part of the area, as well as an unusual sight for those willing to look for it.



When I came back I found my breakfast sitting cold in the kitchen; I was so excited about riding I forgot to eat it! I always considered it so important to eat something for a ride but this time I was running on coffee and that cliff bar with no problems. Funny how you learn somethings about yourself only by forgetting others.

I left sometime around 10 and got home a little before 2, have no idea how fast or how far I went but this was one of the most memorable rides I've done in a long time. I hope you enjoyed the pictures.