tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777356121059811392024-02-19T10:52:17.313-06:00Clodhopper RidesNathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.comBlogger55125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877735612105981139.post-10968848530122256692015-11-01T20:47:00.000-06:002015-11-01T20:47:16.729-06:002015 Omaha Jackrabbit: You'll be in pain, but you'll be happy about it.Once again we've come to that auburn season, where the leaves begin to change, the farmers attend to the business of the harvest, and a small group of loonies go for one freaking long bike ride.<br />
<br />
The Omaha Jackrabbit has a number of things going for it. 1) It's free. 2) The people are some of the best that you'll ever have the fortune of suffering with. 3) Hot showers.<br />
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This year the start of the Jackrabbit was moved to a private acreage a bit west of Blair, NE. I heartily support this becoming the permanent location, because the owners rolled out the red carpet for us and made us feel like the kings and queens of gravel riding. Again, hot showers. Also beer. Also camping on site. It's a full package of awesome.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thanks Greg!</td></tr>
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I rolled in right at sunset the day before the ride, just in time to get my tent set up before dark. The beauty of the gravel biking "scene" (hate that word) is that it's small enough that you see familiar faces at almost every event. It was good to chat with Scott, Pell, Jamie and the rest again, share a few drinks, lie/tell a few stories, and generally be reminded of how great it is to be able to go on these adventures together.<br />
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As a rule, I don't sleep well before events. But having camping on site meant that I could get my bike all set up and loaded up the evening before, and didn't have to get up early to drive to the start. Not having to worry about those things made for a very restful (if a tad chilly, it got down to 32F) night of sleep.<br />
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My goals for the ride were to 1) Finish and 2) cut an hour off my 2014 time of 11:06. As you'll see, that might have been a tad optimistic. I had reason to feel confident, I had trained harder this summer, my weight was down about 15 lbs, and my bike situation had improved considerably.<br />
<br />
The morning was calm but chilly. As we gathered at the start, most of the conversation was about finding that perfect balance between dressing warm now, or being overheated later. Scott and Pell asked us all to please not die if we could help it, and to text them if we did.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bunch of loonies</td></tr>
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<br />
The start was the most relaxed of any race I've ever been on. The group stayed bunched together at a pretty relaxed pace for the first 5 miles or so. It was a bit odd to be riding in a tight double pace line during a gravel ride, but it did make for a nice social point in the ride. Once we cleared the closed bridge at mile 8 though, the pace spooled up and the group came apart. I found myself leapfrogging with a couple of riders, a pattern that would repeat for the rest of the day.<br />
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The leg to the first checkpoint went by in a blur, partially because I had forgotten sunglasses, and that cold air makes one's eyes water. If you take anything away from this report, let me tell you what an absolutely gorgeous place this region is to ride. Especially if your route isn't planned by someone as diabolic as Scott, it can be a lovely mix of easy river bottom roads mixed in with some great rolling hills. As a rule, if I passed by a nasty, hilly looking B road, it meant I had missed a turn, because Scott took every single one he could.<br />
<br />
As I was coming into checkpoint one I saw the leaders heading out. That meant that they were only a few minutes ahead of myself. I felt pretty good about life at that point and kept my checkpoint stop as brief as possible.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAt279jEyw3pxhX23UX2F7Z9ajAcMjArYzJnGZjQ_AQDwbiTOcbMawo0ySswDjE7SMql8Bz4XID5W4UzIjZZ8ds2Fqrm5-I5tve961kYl-gEFUfMZyCzbnGVTwPn2LWsm_9PS6fUPiN1s/s1600/10984536_1687999278080624_4614879432289761328_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAt279jEyw3pxhX23UX2F7Z9ajAcMjArYzJnGZjQ_AQDwbiTOcbMawo0ySswDjE7SMql8Bz4XID5W4UzIjZZ8ds2Fqrm5-I5tve961kYl-gEFUfMZyCzbnGVTwPn2LWsm_9PS6fUPiN1s/s640/10984536_1687999278080624_4614879432289761328_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In all honesty, it takes me about 30 miles to get into a groove.</td></tr>
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Short note about hydration: My system in these events assumes that I will burn through a standard bottle every 15 miles. I do not like having weight on my back, so instead of a Camelback tape 2 additional cages to the front forks. I use some handlebar tape scraps to protect the frame, then use electric tape to lash on the cages. It's a bit of a kludge, but it works great. To save a bit of weight, I only filled all four bottles on the longer legs of the course.<br />
<br />
After the checkpoint, the course turned east and we got a taste of the wind that would be our constant companion for the day. The forecast had predicted a south wind gusting from 15-25 mph. While that's mostly annoying as a crosswind, I knew that the long flat section later in the race would be heading straight into it. I did my best to "take it easy" on the many hills in this section, but that strategy only works to a point. There simply are a lot of hills on this very long course, and they started to take a toll.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Vkyi4ivcaZP2JJXtDj0ELRDysmBXx10Bkr5W_OQKVhCTKcFNvC66usmGmg2vxoitm1KngbZpe_aahc9LyHLm1P0QnzINW8_seKQsfqGYtnvMug4M5oI5OgrnabhczCd4QR7cmc5LVyM/s1600/11013565_1687998604747358_695983115169512816_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Vkyi4ivcaZP2JJXtDj0ELRDysmBXx10Bkr5W_OQKVhCTKcFNvC66usmGmg2vxoitm1KngbZpe_aahc9LyHLm1P0QnzINW8_seKQsfqGYtnvMug4M5oI5OgrnabhczCd4QR7cmc5LVyM/s640/11013565_1687998604747358_695983115169512816_o.jpg" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Also, Nebraska has a pretty loose definition of what qualifies for a "road."</td></tr>
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<br />
There is always a dark point in a ride. Sometimes the slide to that point is imperceptible as your mind gets fuzzy, and your legs start to give out. It is, simply, the point where you stop, look around, and declare the whole affair to be BS.<br />
<br />
I told my wife later that had she drove up alongside me and asked if I wanted a lift, I most certainly would have taken her up on it, just as soon as found a cliff/creek/train to toss my bike off/into/under. There were three hills going into Decatur that broke me. The first two I could carry momentum from the descent to just barely crest, the third slapped me with a leg cramp and I was forced to walk.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Blib_5EeZWCcyHofV5rW0uWQhMVyHY9wywTI2I1rLC2LW_XIquJNt43kyeVKKXU2OhpiNEIxdMT7D00JCzs2RLrVTlDifvJNxFOV5mR-fK5CyWQDN4N6iofJGEIENbVab2SKC5W2sq0/s1600/12087808_1687997264747492_8346483162960314013_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Blib_5EeZWCcyHofV5rW0uWQhMVyHY9wywTI2I1rLC2LW_XIquJNt43kyeVKKXU2OhpiNEIxdMT7D00JCzs2RLrVTlDifvJNxFOV5mR-fK5CyWQDN4N6iofJGEIENbVab2SKC5W2sq0/s640/12087808_1687997264747492_8346483162960314013_o.jpg" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miles of smiles.</td></tr>
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I limped into Decatur, and checkpoint two. The checkpoint volunteers were cheery as always, and a gas station sandwich and a short nap in the sun fixed my crankiness. In some ways the next leg felt like home. Most of my training for hills involves grinding straight into headwinds. For the next 35 miles the course ran parallel to the Missouri river, barely deviating from heading right into that wind. At the beginning, I could manage about 14.5, but the end it was closer to 12.5. The roads were often washboards, where I laughed to see the desperate weaving trails of other riders seeking a smoother path. It didn't exist. The shaking and rattling were so bad that I found the speaker that a tandem crew had been using. They hadn't even noticed it falling off.<br />
<br />
Brief note about bikes: I ride a Giant TCX. Technically this is more of a CX bike, and at first I had some concerns that this would be a twitchy race bike that would prove miserably uncomfortable on long days. That hasn't been the case at all. In both the very wet 24hrs of Cumming, and on the washboarded mess of the Jackrabbit, this has been the most comfortable bike I've ever rode on. While on pavement this bike feels asleep, on gravel it comes alive and simply floats.<br />
<br />
The flat terrain and the wind meant that there never was a break from pedaling. I worked for every rutted and washboarded foot. There were moments when I simply had to get off for a break, even if for only a few moments. Yet somehow this was the happiest part of the ride. As the miles ticked away, I allowed myself to think that I might finish. The hills that had been on the edge of the horizon were now getting within reach, and with them, the finish.<br />
<br />
The route turned west, and into the last few miles of the course. A long coast downhill came as a welcome shock. I'd love to say that I crushed those last few miles, but I limped into the finish. My chain was squeaking, I was out of water, and hills that normally would barely slow me down now required my lowest gear.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqnYBC2HA4MqGpybCq91Kfg4gS9MCsmnaYBbh-MWoF1No_xqUD-jhyqr5CR_vH_05qs6mrtdH6JoQXonAkch9njaIvHC7Qi9wV45EY_eGQqU89sFrBEkjOcoEwiDhFB3z3_hBrS7BaSp8/s1600/10286730_1687995278081024_3526850288202891450_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqnYBC2HA4MqGpybCq91Kfg4gS9MCsmnaYBbh-MWoF1No_xqUD-jhyqr5CR_vH_05qs6mrtdH6JoQXonAkch9njaIvHC7Qi9wV45EY_eGQqU89sFrBEkjOcoEwiDhFB3z3_hBrS7BaSp8/s640/10286730_1687995278081024_3526850288202891450_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In photos no one can hear your chain shriek.</td></tr>
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I was beat to the line by a combine, which felt like a very Nebraska was to finish. Final time was 11:17, a full ten minutes slower than last year, and nowhere near my sub-10 goal. Given the challenging nature of the course, made worse by the headwind, I felt pretty good to be standing at the finish line at all.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQzUoHN_QONpkszUaoVAHEffWc1HHOAm_d9CrOEDAT8nZaXQVyWInfaFIKwNcgm0_DfbDdMp3xytvuZWcvdsaVSuwFRiDqIUY1YZwXCH9FwRTc6k6GnZxqJLDLeeWh9vv0qe0qNhHQ_ME/s1600/12120196_1687995201414365_5969786848091924272_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQzUoHN_QONpkszUaoVAHEffWc1HHOAm_d9CrOEDAT8nZaXQVyWInfaFIKwNcgm0_DfbDdMp3xytvuZWcvdsaVSuwFRiDqIUY1YZwXCH9FwRTc6k6GnZxqJLDLeeWh9vv0qe0qNhHQ_ME/s400/12120196_1687995201414365_5969786848091924272_o.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That moment when Scott asked my name and I had a bit of a hard time remembering.</td></tr>
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In the midst of the post race chatter with Scott, he let drop that a hot shower was available, "if you want one." Yes please, and thank you. Being spared driving back home filthy turned that 5 minutes into a transcendent experience.<br />
<br />
I returned the speaker to the tandem guys, who where thrilled to see their long lost audio companion. I told them I never wanted to see it again, as I had gotten the soundtrack to Rocky stuck in my head the moment I stuck it in my jersey pocket.<br />
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One of the most welcome, and surprising bit of news was that all of the riders who left that morning made it to the finish. With the exception of an unfortunate mechanical that struck a rider (at mile 8, no less) this running of the Jackrabbit had not a single DNF. I guess everyone who lined up had an extra dose of stubborn in them that day.<br />
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Thanks to Scott, Pell, Greg (for hosting us at his beautiful home) and all the other volunteers who helped us have the best worst day on the bike possible.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTkhNyN0d3tu8IGaeL18j0TRQVLK9KLUjshSoCLmybwo6m2CPedCs25lAEGQLd8EMlOWAJ35putVgOFAujq_rqb-ixErS43fjxvjSzIi_Ps3Zdk851oRINxK2sjOTUadWxwy8wbe1lVQY/s1600/12132534_1687995244747694_8908280207493898084_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTkhNyN0d3tu8IGaeL18j0TRQVLK9KLUjshSoCLmybwo6m2CPedCs25lAEGQLd8EMlOWAJ35putVgOFAujq_rqb-ixErS43fjxvjSzIi_Ps3Zdk851oRINxK2sjOTUadWxwy8wbe1lVQY/s640/12132534_1687995244747694_8908280207493898084_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Never doing this again.<br />Until next year.</td></tr>
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All photos courtesy the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/OmahaJackrabbit/" target="_blank">Omaha Jackrabbit FB</a>.<br />
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<br />Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877735612105981139.post-54098914568068591102014-12-18T12:41:00.000-06:002014-12-18T12:49:48.531-06:00The Riddlebox 120k: No Prep, Dehydration and Funny HatsGenerally, I like plenty of time to plan and think about events. With this spring's Almanzo, I was obsessing about the details for months. The Riddlebox was something else entirely. Through some lurking about on Facebook, I stumbled upon this ride four days before it was set to start. I jokingly posted the notice to the Brothers Bike shop page, and tried to put the event out of my mind.Though the ride was only 30 miles from my house I was certain that taking off for the weekend and the cost for the registration would make this event impossible. Shortly afterwards, my wife texted me:<br />
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K: Do you want to do the ride, say yes because I know you'd be lying if you said otherwise<br />
N: Yes, but registration is $60<br />
K: Do it, Merry Christmas<br />
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Having been properly green lit, I promptly began to panic about clothing like some teenager before a first date. I'd only done very short rides below freezing, and very little in the sub-20 range that this race was forecast to start in. Though some cobbling and last minute thrift store digging, I managed to put together an outfit that seemed likely to keep me from simultaneously getting frostbite and overheating.<br />
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Working from top down and inside to out:<br />
Balaclava<br />
Heavy weight synthetic base<br />
Bike Jersey (mostly for pockets to keep water bottles thawed)<br />
Columbia winter coat<br />
<br />
Pearl Izumi leg warmers<br />
Bike shorts<br />
Heavy weight cotton pants (woohoo thrift store)<br />
<br />
2x Wool socks<br />
Cycling shoes (Old pair of Doc Martins. I've got something like 2000 miles on them, I'll say they work)<br />
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A few test runs in the days coming up the ride made me reasonably confident that I could be comfortable on the bike for a day. Unfortunately, it also showed me how out of shape I had become since the Omaha Jackrabbit back in October. The goal for this ride would be simple survival.<br />
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The day started early, alarm went off at 5:30. Sleeping at home before a big event definitely has its perks. It was almost surreal to be traveling very familiar roads to ride in very different conditions and with a group of complete strangers.<br />
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The start location was Calico Skies Winery. With the large banquet hall it was an excellent place to start and finish. In addition to the 120k ride, there was a 50k ride and a 50k run. The 120k riders started first, and with a field of only 7 riders, it was a pretty calm and quiet start.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Your's truly, front and center, mostly terrified and high on adrenaline</td></tr>
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Unlike any other ride I've done, this ride got to business immediately. We turned right from the start down a steep downhill, slammed on the brakes to cross a highway, biked 100 yards then hike-a-biked a frozen river, and hit a 5% grade climb all in the first mile. If I was at all chilly at the start, I was well on my way to overheating already.<br />
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My body quickly went into what can scientifically be described as a freakout. My lower body was chilly, upper body was overheating, and my heart rate and breathing were way beyond what I could sustain for any length of time. After trying, and failing to slow my pace down, I realized that I was subconsciously chasing the riders a quarter mile ahead of me. I forced myself to stare at the road immediately in front of me and forget about those riders to get myself settled into a 75 mile pace.<br />
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One of the big issues coming into this ride was water, more specifically keeping it from freezing. Most riders use Camelbaks for rides like this. If you load them with warm water or wear them under your outer layer, they generally stay thawed. I was using my standard bottles. The plan was to keep one in the cage and one in my jersey pocket, and cycle them in and out as needed. That was good in concept, but had some issues:<br />
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1) The bottles would freeze faster than my body heat could thaw them. I could put both in my pockets but...<br />
2) With clumsy gloved hands, I could not get the bottles from my pockets without stopping and fully unzipping my coat.<br />
<br />
This naturally resulted in not drinking enough water. While you don't sweat as much as you would on say, RAGBRAI, the cold dry air makes your body loose water rapidly though respiration. After doing a few events like these, I've learned some lessons about what my body needs for food and fuel. With my hands hampered by gloves, I was eating and drinking way less than I should have.<br />
<br />
My second big mistake was passing up on a chance to fill water bottles in Hudson at mile 17. While I had drank only about a 1/3 of my water, it was another 35 miles to Canton and my next chance to top off. I misjudged my water needs and kept riding, again foolishly trying to catch some riders ahead of me.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZgtC24_CBovORAfsdzp4XPWv1ILAF4B7Vw_k-bbh_eaUgSX-3OTlAb1Qvb5WXIuQOvlMlLn_i23lXCg98BuopMm8KSTb6pN558WjUDppFJh_m9KB-3NaHeZu7WJ7okz9CXtX7faJ8fLE/s1600/IMAG0025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZgtC24_CBovORAfsdzp4XPWv1ILAF4B7Vw_k-bbh_eaUgSX-3OTlAb1Qvb5WXIuQOvlMlLn_i23lXCg98BuopMm8KSTb6pN558WjUDppFJh_m9KB-3NaHeZu7WJ7okz9CXtX7faJ8fLE/s1600/IMAG0025.jpg" height="238" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The middle section of the ride was tough. I wasn't drinking enough, and had fogetten elctrolytes, so my legs were burning and threatening to cramp. My mental state was also hitting a low point. This usually happens with most of my big rides. By the halfway point my legs are starting to feel the miles and I begin to wonder if I'll be able to finish. This time the low hit worse than usual because the ride was "only" 75 miles. 75 miles should be easy, right? It did not help that when I rolled into Canton at mile 55 I would only be 6 miles from the start as the crow flies. It was mighty tempting to cut the last 20 mile loop from the course and call it a day.<br />
<br />
The C-store in Canton was our only control for this ride. We simply had to buy something and get a receipt to prove that we had been at point in the course. I took a liter of Coke and some water and grabbed a patch of sun on the side of the station. I knew I was 6th out of 7, assuming the guy behind me (who I had not seen since the start) hadn't decided to quit and move me to dead last by default. I knew that the final miles would be hilly, that the miles before those would be into a head wind. I knew that even with the magic restorative powers of Coke I would have to fight to finish those last miles. I could ride six miles and be done, stop the hurt and go home.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEY9raWkCpe_srtOu3lb7nVp-3ZRiGm3Bf2nEPWoq8VM_2hou47t5OV0xJ3t9mvwnK5UsEir79E5PWFehZx0IdahiCNDlUxaLvbS0Ue97luqF7THCBKskpJvLp8wTrgoSu5T-NRPpnctY/s1600/IMG_20141206_125545.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEY9raWkCpe_srtOu3lb7nVp-3ZRiGm3Bf2nEPWoq8VM_2hou47t5OV0xJ3t9mvwnK5UsEir79E5PWFehZx0IdahiCNDlUxaLvbS0Ue97luqF7THCBKskpJvLp8wTrgoSu5T-NRPpnctY/s1600/IMG_20141206_125545.jpg" height="320" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The particpant skullcap was a lifesaver, <br />but should not be worn without a helmet covering it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But it was a beautiful day, the sun had come out and the temps were hovering around the freezing mark. It was just 20 miles, nothing I hadn't done before.<br />
<br />
Remarkably, what saved me was simple selfishness. I had seen the prizes for finishers, and I wanted<br />
some of that swag. I couldn't have it if I didn't finish. DFL beats DNF, right?<br />
<br />
So a few minutes later I was rolling out of town.<br />
<br />
The last chunk went by in a blur. I was crawling, rarely breaking 13 mph. I got briefly off course, not helped by South Dakota not putting street signs in all-gravel intersections. I'll admit to walking a few of those last hills, and crawling up the rest. I was overheated a good portion of the time, and cursed my lack of training all of the time.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvOxoxROD7cYfFAG6SrvUDG58H7GaO4p7pK9X_wqmzcjpnFRZHOrm0d8iQDnL4ik4IDB4SKKKKFltZAsCachnbuSAAZFod6McangKluC7iLMdCLicdzxZWINx1loP57SNs6fe7hXojcnw/s1600/IMAG0023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvOxoxROD7cYfFAG6SrvUDG58H7GaO4p7pK9X_wqmzcjpnFRZHOrm0d8iQDnL4ik4IDB4SKKKKFltZAsCachnbuSAAZFod6McangKluC7iLMdCLicdzxZWINx1loP57SNs6fe7hXojcnw/s1600/IMAG0023.jpg" height="320" width="191" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was one of the "roads"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The relief of the finish put a pleasant glow over the final miles, which included another frozen river crossing, and a barely passable B-Road. Finishes are always strangely sudden. There's the anticipation of the start, the middle slogging doubt, the hope of the end, and then you're done.<br />
<br />
Perhaps the highlight of the whole day came after the ride. The aforementioned 50 k runners were still trickling in, and we waited for them to finish before the awards and goodies were handed out. I found myself eating and talking with perhaps the most experienced winter bikers I have ever met. I spent some time talking with Joe and Tina Stiller, who ride with the FCA Endurance Team as well as Lance Andre who is the race manager for the Triple D out of Dubuque, IA.<br />
<br />
The Riddlebox was definitely not my best day on the bike. My average speed on the course was something like 11 mph. But given my lack of prep and experience operating in those low temps, I feel pretty good about it.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiRD-fnofkxrDb355bBuOIELOhTHS-EYBLct1OWJBXg4D_WKaJShyJjCR4RUsTjsRAtak1k-wNKjx1c4QjImFZKRP8dxbUmQRtetpeWf0JUCbyDid3XIbE6gD8ObvAit8nLVAydhWPajM/s1600/IMAG0026.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiRD-fnofkxrDb355bBuOIELOhTHS-EYBLct1OWJBXg4D_WKaJShyJjCR4RUsTjsRAtak1k-wNKjx1c4QjImFZKRP8dxbUmQRtetpeWf0JUCbyDid3XIbE6gD8ObvAit8nLVAydhWPajM/s1600/IMAG0026.jpg" height="320" width="191" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Perks of paying: Funny hats.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877735612105981139.post-90662419825830382032014-10-27T09:17:00.000-06:002014-10-27T09:17:00.839-06:00Coffeeneuring Rd 2: For want of a proper cup and a windscreen.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
10/25</div>
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Shop 2: The Fruited Plain Cafe</div>
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Trip: 2.3 miles</div>
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Espresso</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbEAVA5SauC0dCiuG-0fxEqhUy1jdDoqsjKC7Aus14q7_O04NLeVIbv69hEuZ6pCCEkP1JWDwyRPoy3a4_pt4x-YNoH0cH7kSEv-4fngPisv-DbOzAsBOjUZppyf6sTnONCMUSly_ffTE/s1600/DSCN5661.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbEAVA5SauC0dCiuG-0fxEqhUy1jdDoqsjKC7Aus14q7_O04NLeVIbv69hEuZ6pCCEkP1JWDwyRPoy3a4_pt4x-YNoH0cH7kSEv-4fngPisv-DbOzAsBOjUZppyf6sTnONCMUSly_ffTE/s1600/DSCN5661.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The espresso was lovely, rich with a smooth finish. But please, <br />PLEASE never serve it in a paper cup unless you have absolutely no other option</span></span><span style="font-size: small; text-align: left;">.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Someone (Tolkien, among many, I'm sure) has said that we easily remember days that are dark and dangerous, while times that are good and lovely take little time in the telling and are quickly forgotten. If nothing else, recording these little coffee runs will help me remember the days that were lovely. We've had an outstandingly gorgeous fall, one which I hope to remember for a long time. </div>
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<br />
10/26<br />
CSWOW<br />
Trip: 6.5 Miles<br />
French Press<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoD6NdLbMx68dWiliru3Xgc1dJaAwGJdpWQAjQENle5qS42ZrNBV34UUMoNXVXhYjK-Ve81W68z61vsRZPD42-csMIbjM_J0dH94KXFpTdw2TQci2v1UzuF86XVoDBg0laTB5xWj1K43A/s1600/DSCN5668.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoD6NdLbMx68dWiliru3Xgc1dJaAwGJdpWQAjQENle5qS42ZrNBV34UUMoNXVXhYjK-Ve81W68z61vsRZPD42-csMIbjM_J0dH94KXFpTdw2TQci2v1UzuF86XVoDBg0laTB5xWj1K43A/s1600/DSCN5668.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This CWOW takes place at a local park that recently changed hands from city owned to county owned. So I'm not certain if any new rules have come into play, and if I was trespassing as a result. No one was around to tell me otherwise; I had the place to myself at 5:30 am.<br />
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</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8HWhbrF-I_5XEhVJu_5OMz7E_xbwP-iyQ5yaUhqa38NhziCvUNvylU26YXvZUx6-BAzo4QQDaHctcqgyhBR99yXsvd7_f6lQpo2mrxcpt68-GUj9fwiDj9sTv1ufeef8FT5JjdO5NFsM/s1600/DSCN5670.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8HWhbrF-I_5XEhVJu_5OMz7E_xbwP-iyQ5yaUhqa38NhziCvUNvylU26YXvZUx6-BAzo4QQDaHctcqgyhBR99yXsvd7_f6lQpo2mrxcpt68-GUj9fwiDj9sTv1ufeef8FT5JjdO5NFsM/s1600/DSCN5670.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
Thanks to a swirling breeze, even after 15 minutes on the stove I didn't get the water to a rolling boil. Rather bitter coffee resulted. After a little extra time in the press, the brew evened out to that nice, satisfying smoothness that a proper press should have.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbONwCdqwBK51F4Ek0HCBZ4mPFhuuPFzXRz4I0piVVd7kfJVPZb8VgNxyT_Y0H0IvMwGx90yT1AFxGqcJEs6-pmNoP3hV0ac5CDlmV-Mh4J8CBOyXzkE3rF_os_YPM8pTc7Kj7RnSp7x8/s1600/DSCN5672.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbONwCdqwBK51F4Ek0HCBZ4mPFhuuPFzXRz4I0piVVd7kfJVPZb8VgNxyT_Y0H0IvMwGx90yT1AFxGqcJEs6-pmNoP3hV0ac5CDlmV-Mh4J8CBOyXzkE3rF_os_YPM8pTc7Kj7RnSp7x8/s1600/DSCN5672.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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It takes an event to get me out the door this early. But I never regret it. As rural as Iowa is, its hard to find places open to the public where you can be alone. This is one of those rare places.</div>
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<br />Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877735612105981139.post-5313378307187369132014-10-24T07:45:00.000-06:002014-10-24T07:49:03.118-06:00Coffeeneuring! RD 1The level of metaphorical dust on this blog is embarrassing, but the coffee is hot and fresh, even if the wind is getting cold and raw. Here's my caffeine-driven report:<br />
<br />
#1<br />
Location: CWOW (Coffee without walls)<br />
Distance: 6.2 mi<br />
Drink: Tea (Yorkshire Gold)<br />
Bike: The Frisian (Civia Prospect)<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSE5XBwsUn4YesrzU7fZkKfkVmtmAZA3CgnHu0X0wA2PmnjlUWCxCJ5InbzkGCZSvwWeSHi96L76KWarTVurCKdWqchj2Oh0R7sP8VLtC6mJvs5kQY6CyMo8CwC7jCGRXxwvFKgKeeY7g/s1600/DSCN5598.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSE5XBwsUn4YesrzU7fZkKfkVmtmAZA3CgnHu0X0wA2PmnjlUWCxCJ5InbzkGCZSvwWeSHi96L76KWarTVurCKdWqchj2Oh0R7sP8VLtC6mJvs5kQY6CyMo8CwC7jCGRXxwvFKgKeeY7g/s1600/DSCN5598.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
So I had these great plans of riding out at 4:30 am, grinding out a hard training ride before stopping for coffee and heading home by 7 or so. But that was before a flu bug laid me on my back. By Sunday evening of my recuperation the flu had turned into case of cabin fever, so I (slowly) took a direct route to a spot at a local park. The pop can stove was lit, sandwiches were unwrapped, and I started to feel like myself again. (Instructions for building this stove can be found <a href="http://www.pedalingnowhere.com/gear/hop-can-stoves-how-to-make-5-ultralight-bikepacking-stoves" target="_blank">here</a>, I'm happy to answer any questions. My wife might have a point when she says these things have become an obsession.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh72W4XwH_fyAyRRtJ97VibwxPdK8557KjHyiE8aTAqjQsgKEH24qLKcQJj46kjt6zUBjolY-2ZWTUNo_rqEC_lG2lMJ3h0MHGhwtTo4tVtA-r1zU4kzMauxcnVVBxumGnTg-NQGgl2ap4/s1600/DSCN5604.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh72W4XwH_fyAyRRtJ97VibwxPdK8557KjHyiE8aTAqjQsgKEH24qLKcQJj46kjt6zUBjolY-2ZWTUNo_rqEC_lG2lMJ3h0MHGhwtTo4tVtA-r1zU4kzMauxcnVVBxumGnTg-NQGgl2ap4/s1600/DSCN5604.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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There's now been two weeks since my last chance to Coffeeneur. Harvest and the <a href="http://fourquartets.blogspot.com/2014/10/the-omaha-jackrabbit-125-briefly.html" target="_blank">Omaha Jackrabbit</a> have eaten into my weekends considerably. Shooting for a double shot this weekend!<br />
<br />
<br />Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877735612105981139.post-3537357827659239352014-10-20T14:47:00.001-06:002014-12-29T09:08:05.471-06:00The Omaha Jackrabbit 125: Briefly the dumbest idea ever.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
(<i>All photos courtesy the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/OmahaJackrabbit" target="_blank">Omaha Jackrabbit FB page</a>. A camera did not make the cut of things I wanted to carry for 125 miles.)</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHKXQs3hiLPARKx9KB9a39LjLtIwpDbX-f1a5HPR8MKCe34MUds_baglCET0RP7PfbO5_7VB-nwMFFCnCXHC-DM46sOmse-fvsQXvGx0-kkty1XdJjWSL_g5J4gvNIFaWkfCul7Y7Q_6A/s1600/1383092_1562115210669032_7241907258446256009_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHKXQs3hiLPARKx9KB9a39LjLtIwpDbX-f1a5HPR8MKCe34MUds_baglCET0RP7PfbO5_7VB-nwMFFCnCXHC-DM46sOmse-fvsQXvGx0-kkty1XdJjWSL_g5J4gvNIFaWkfCul7Y7Q_6A/s1600/1383092_1562115210669032_7241907258446256009_n.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Before I launch into a tale of the transcendent experience of a long, hard day on the bike, watching the sun rise and set in a blaze of glory from my bike saddle, I should forewarn you that midway through the ride I had serious doubts about being able to even finish. There is also a bit about getting lost in a bean field, and a screw up with my drop bags (both my fault).<br />
<br />
I had been looking for a late season ride, in part as a motivator to keep riding, and in part as a oddball birthday present to myself. With the majority of gravel rides happening either near Des Moines or around the Twin Cities, the Jackrabbit was also a significantly shorter drive from NW Iowa.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSPRqn5fObuyk1lkXh-gQVvWAyMncQgLlUVk8aFbCWV9MtRllAZYufqJb3wMLLGfnB1stn_PYY7QPfVP8I11x83KeONMYfFWxFMOevrxgysQpb5nF-H4QyRtTDmVJc01WlZm4QgHNqedk/s1600/10153842_1562237973990089_7702112404112212435_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSPRqn5fObuyk1lkXh-gQVvWAyMncQgLlUVk8aFbCWV9MtRllAZYufqJb3wMLLGfnB1stn_PYY7QPfVP8I11x83KeONMYfFWxFMOevrxgysQpb5nF-H4QyRtTDmVJc01WlZm4QgHNqedk/s1600/10153842_1562237973990089_7702112404112212435_n.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bunnies for trophies</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Registration for the race was held at <a href="https://www.facebook.com/DundeeCycles" target="_blank">Dundee Cycles</a>, which is a custom bike builder located in Omaha. Not only are the paint jobs on their bikes very cool, the collection of vintage bikes hanging around the shop was astounding. Maybe I should have spent more time looking, and less time talking, but I was wound pretty tight. Among other things, the owner of the shop (Chris) showed me a magnetic engagement rear hub made by the Polish company <a href="http://www.soul-kozak.com/en_US/n/4" target="_blank">Soul-Kozak</a>. According to the company, using magnets results in fewer moving parts, so the hub should be more reliable. All I know is the thing was loud, more so than Hope and Chris King hubs, which are legendary for the racket they make. The Soul-Kozak reminded me of a semi's jake brake.<br />
<br />
Being the cheapskate that I am, I managed to secure camping in the backyard of a local bike shop owner. After a fitful night of sleep courtesy some pre-event jitters, I drove north out of Omaha to the start at Lake Bennington. We had been warned that parking at the start was limited, so we were advised to park at the high school, which was a mile away. I drive into the parking lot, and there is not a single biker there. Stupid 5:30 am thoughts clouded my head, making me wonder if I'd drove to the wrong town. Turns out everyone else had just parked at the start.<br />
<br />
I was also running late. I needed to be at the start by 6:45, and it was at least 6:35 before I left the school lot. I still had to bike the mile to the start. By hustling I managed to get to the start on time, but not before dropping one of my drop bags and riding over the apple stashed inside. Thankfully the organizers had extra bags to replace mine (which now featured fresh applesauce).<br />
<br />
By this point, most of the racers had gathered at the start. I had a distinct feeling of not belonging. Everyone was very friendly and the mood was good, but most of the riders seemed very well equipped, and looked like the sort who would be putting in a hard, fast day. I resolved to stick with a group, any group, until it got light and I could properly read my cue sheet (headlamp had been forgotten in the car) and then spend the day riding solo off the back. I planned on being the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lanterne_rouge" target="_blank">lanterne rouge</a>, and that was alright.<br />
<br />
Rollout was neutral with dirt bike escort. Dawn was just beginning to peak in the east. As the escort ended, the group began to stretch out into a rather lovely chain of blinking taillights and headlights. About 4 miles in, my choice of wearing a fleece was proven a mistake. I rammed it into my saddlebag, where it would stay for the next 120 miles. While stopped I achieved my goal of being dead last (Yay!).<br />
<br />
Back on the bike I started working my way through the stragglers, eventually joining a group of two fatbikers, a 29'er, and a cross bike. We pulled for each other and swapped stories of rides we had done, comparing notes on both awesome and spectacularly bad rides.<br />
<br />
It was all good until mile 46. The cue sheet told us to take a right at Ave E, which was an unmarked road. Maybe we all though the road was a field driveway, maybe the vibrations from a particularly bad descent had blurred our vision, whatever the reason, our group of five missed the turn, instead taking a right at a T intersection a few tenths of a mile later. The "road" we turned on quickly devolved into a path, which dropped us off in recently harvested bean field.<br />
<br />
Knowing that the organizers were planning on sending us down some paths, we rode through the field, wincing as the stalks jabbed at our tires. We assumed that somewhere on the other side of this very hilly field would be the continuation of this road. Instead the field ended in a fence line and a creek. Minutes of head-scratching and haranguing passed, and a few more riders who had also missed the turn joined us in the field.<br />
<br />
Some GPS consultation eventually revealed that the sneaky Ave E was a bit south of us. Rejoining that road involved crossed a harvested corn field, a patch of woods and a bit of pasture, plus a barbed wire fence. Being lost cost our group about a half hour, plus a lot of energy expending riding a mile and a half over hill and dale.<br />
<br />
A few miles later (including a bit of singletrack) we rolled into the mile 50 checkpoint. I had been running on trail mix and a Cliff Bar, and I was looking forward to some of the goodies stashed in my first drop. I get to the truck with supplies and...no drop bag.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXcmlujNSv4M_k-aiqg4G2pMo6IaUSDDE06s450RGEV0jyhOutY-xSuNgknQTAAIUM0y7QItjsic5wr5j7G3EubP-509-g4HO42UzUeYJwiqkdY7YXiTSYfVfOOnkGokyenPeOLmmle0o/s1600/1966294_667894759975607_3345761391789400498_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXcmlujNSv4M_k-aiqg4G2pMo6IaUSDDE06s450RGEV0jyhOutY-xSuNgknQTAAIUM0y7QItjsic5wr5j7G3EubP-509-g4HO42UzUeYJwiqkdY7YXiTSYfVfOOnkGokyenPeOLmmle0o/s1600/1966294_667894759975607_3345761391789400498_o.jpg" height="303" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Near as I can tell, this picture was taken about 30 seconds before I found out that<br />
my dropbag was missing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
No drop bag. No food. Nothing. I had a one more Cliff bar and a handful of trail mix. How far could I ride on this? There was another checkpoint in 33 miles that might have some supplies, and my next drop bag was at mile 100. But if one of my bags was missing, there was nothing to say that the mile 100 bag wouldn't also be missing.<br />
<br />
I snagged/stole a cheese stick and one of the Little Debbies at the back of the truck, but not knowing if they were for public consumption, and being to embarrassed/dumb in the head to ask, I quickly fled with my departing group. I could make the mile 83 checkpoint on what I had, but if there wasn't anything to eat there, I'd be hurting.<br />
<br />
By far the worst part of the ride was those 33 miles. This was a hilly section of the course, with lots of rutted, jarring B roads. Bunny hopping ruts at 30 mph was a new, terrifying experience for me. Shortly after the checkpoint I let my group go. The snap was out of my legs, and I spooled back my pace to better my chances of finishing the remaining 75 miles.<br />
<br />
I had some long, unpleasant conversations with myself about the stupidity of participating in a ride I was so clearly not prepped for, and why on earth I had set on endurance gravel riding as my hobby of choice. I walked a few of the steeper hills in an effort to keep my energy up. I gave serious thought to how I could manage to quit. But without SAG, and my family a 2 hr drive away, I knew I needed to get to the finish even if I meant I had to crawl.<br />
<br />
Around mile 65 the course dropped into the Missouri river valley. The flat expanse promised a chance to keep a easy, mile-eating pace. No hills meant no climbing, but also no breaks. Any attempt to go faster than 14 and my legs started to burn. I stopped briefly for a nature break, and noted that my legs were shaking uncontrollably.<br />
<br />
After a weaving, river-hugging "road" that was equal parts rocky, rutted, and sandy, the beautiful mile 83 checkpoint came into view.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_WdsNSTjx8GvnOgwFUwf-PlW6c8mkAYIB3TIehnztoxicXkR45yQPZ-v4o4y2a-_DseLeqOgmXffAfpecYNG-nxmFVXFgGvTPXP3usRmR-yjqCyLkY5B7kkCGCqmVQrxPyNN3yUDyj9M/s1600/1383361_10202844401891505_3668898636673486066_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_WdsNSTjx8GvnOgwFUwf-PlW6c8mkAYIB3TIehnztoxicXkR45yQPZ-v4o4y2a-_DseLeqOgmXffAfpecYNG-nxmFVXFgGvTPXP3usRmR-yjqCyLkY5B7kkCGCqmVQrxPyNN3yUDyj9M/s1600/1383361_10202844401891505_3668898636673486066_n.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I might be looking at the checkpoint volunteers, but my mind is<br />
most definitely on that table over my shoulder.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Perhaps the sweetest sight of the ride was that checkpoint and its table burdened with treats and snacks. A Coke was nectar of the gods, a banana was edible glory, and a lawn chair was a throne unparalleled in opulence. I wrestled myself away from this checkpoint after about ten minutes, and my mood lifted as the food refueled my depleted legs. Everything might just turn out alright.<br />
<br />
The flatlands were spent totally alone, without a single rider in sight from mile 83 to 100. At one point I had to completely leave the road to let a combine pass. The farmers were working, I was playing. I was happy to walk in the ditch for a minute, and the farmer looked pretty happy too.<br />
<br />
As good as I was now feeling, I didn't allow myself to feel certain of finishing until I hit the mile 100 checkpoint. As I checked in, the very nice lady running the station asked if I was hungry. I was of course, so she pointed me to my two drop bags. That's right, two. As it turns out, in the dark and in my rush, I had stashed both my bags in the 100 mile pile. My bad. Now I had too much food. Burdened with a wealth of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stroopwafel" target="_blank">stroopwafles</a>, jerky, chocolate covered espresso beans, and a liter bottle of coke, I feasted my way towards the finish.<br />
<br />
Off in the distance I could see a lone biker riding. As we moved into the rolling hills of the finish, I slowly reeled the rider in. Turns out he was the lone single speed rider that day. I'll simply say I was very impressed. We rolled in together to the welcome sounds of the volunteers still cheering with gusto after what must have been a very long day. Total time was 11hrs 6m for a course average speed of 11.1. Negating the time I spent lost in a field, my rolling average was around 12.<br />
<br />
A cold can of Coke, a few handshakes and congratulations, and I was headed home. Though I felt pretty good when I left, the two hour car ride guaranteed that I was very stiff by the time I was home. Later the next day I was feeling good enough to pedal my kids around on our longtail, and two days later my legs are mostly normal, with only a sore throat from a long day spent breathing hard in the dry dusty air.<br />
<br />
Thanks so much to the organizers for putting on an outstanding event. It vastly exceeded my expectations, especially for one that cost me exactly nothing. If I'm looking for a fall ride next year, this one will definitely be on the top of my list.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgphHeK-1qwSyRT59WN0VjqXkQUZry35o1JU__yMW6Sw4daB4ypPjVS0V-wSE7iRs8biZVx_N-MR95Y336flc1q5zPMYU1IiyMmk2kT1r2dPmRr2C686GALzYisjDxfk4_eaW98eFUsRpI/s1600/route.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgphHeK-1qwSyRT59WN0VjqXkQUZry35o1JU__yMW6Sw4daB4ypPjVS0V-wSE7iRs8biZVx_N-MR95Y336flc1q5zPMYU1IiyMmk2kT1r2dPmRr2C686GALzYisjDxfk4_eaW98eFUsRpI/s1600/route.JPG" height="454" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ridewithgps file can be found <a href="http://ridewithgps.com/routes/6318816" target="_blank">here</a>.</td></tr>
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<br />Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877735612105981139.post-46026389115996735392014-05-20T11:08:00.000-06:002014-05-20T11:08:16.620-06:00The Almanzo 100: Howling for you.I've heard the Almanzo described as "just a bike ride, with 1400 of your closest friends." While there was some quickly, perfectly formed friendships, there was also some very lonely miles. I had elation, terror, exhaustion and peace in the space of the day, and not in the order that you might expect. Before we get to details, lets lay down some basics.<br />
<br />
<b>The Course</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD7O2fCIY6jGarpN7U4KA5eLHY5HLdtVIyeKcjc0S9xyOtQsMDqrUk0vkkNBZq3UAjrjMf00u3gSs9h2pFWgQw-LOwTuu1yBgiBvE-6DpENEsufWvyPWi3ingWh5bNrH45jkVgipjv-sA/s1600/route.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD7O2fCIY6jGarpN7U4KA5eLHY5HLdtVIyeKcjc0S9xyOtQsMDqrUk0vkkNBZq3UAjrjMf00u3gSs9h2pFWgQw-LOwTuu1yBgiBvE-6DpENEsufWvyPWi3ingWh5bNrH45jkVgipjv-sA/s1600/route.JPG" height="310" width="320" /></a></div>
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The Almanzo is a 100 mile, unsupported (sorta) gravel ride in southeastern MN. It's lovely part of the world that also happens to be rather hilly.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbDD9lSmw5IaJmi4uNt5ga4S188M_56YvJQ3f4s-WJA-pnb7Wuv_24DmhFG0Lg6TZdMGmqimFJD3A1kWvSDNJO2rJFiAv0Fle-5_Lc5gumMS0saA_iQgpyRQOlHPTmWqiuyGqLoFw0Wuk/s1600/profile.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbDD9lSmw5IaJmi4uNt5ga4S188M_56YvJQ3f4s-WJA-pnb7Wuv_24DmhFG0Lg6TZdMGmqimFJD3A1kWvSDNJO2rJFiAv0Fle-5_Lc5gumMS0saA_iQgpyRQOlHPTmWqiuyGqLoFw0Wuk/s1600/profile.JPG" height="198" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This profile exaggerates the climbing. Still, 7500 ft of climbing does make a body tired.</td></tr>
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As stated, the ride is on gravel roads. But there are different kinds of gravel, depending on local geology. This ended dealing me a pleasant surprise, because the gravel in SE MN is noticeably easier to ride on than the gravel in NW IA. The Almanzo gravel is chalky, with flatter stones. It often packs down to a hard pan that's smoother than many paved roads, while the flat stones made even the loose sections easier to manage. That said, I have never had a ride so test my ability to handle a bike. On occasion (especially on corners) the gravel got sandbox loose. Also, all that climbing made for some blazing fast descents, and even with heavy use of the brakes I had a difficult time keeping my speed under 30.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiN91tsotm-f8seSW_pFDLwsNdN1Lk8myaYYY-NehNe6IsX_MBrDywD5JE7-JGApTZ-09jAYXttuD_BdrvQkVN9twl1HYkJyAFs-xYlqmMc7sD_aQlBD7pFSH_u9GaAQuh67CI9QKUeCM/s1600/DSCN4953.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiN91tsotm-f8seSW_pFDLwsNdN1Lk8myaYYY-NehNe6IsX_MBrDywD5JE7-JGApTZ-09jAYXttuD_BdrvQkVN9twl1HYkJyAFs-xYlqmMc7sD_aQlBD7pFSH_u9GaAQuh67CI9QKUeCM/s1600/DSCN4953.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
<b>Pre-Race Shenanigans</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
While it's common practice to hold registration for bike events the night before, I'll dare to bet this is the only one that had free-for-all grass track racing. Somehow I though this would be a good idea, so I did participate in a few rounds. This was not a terribly serious event. At one point a singlespeed Schwinn banana-seat bike was winning against a couple of fatbikes and a few CX bikes. Unfortunately participation was fairly low, I think many riders did not want to risk injury or damage to their persons or bikes. They missed out on some proper nonsense.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>To Business</b><br />
<br />
After spending a very chilly night camping at the local state park, my wife and I rolled into Spring Valley. This was the first unsupported event that I've done, and I was a bit of a basket case. I told her that if I had a fly on my bike shorts, it probably would have been unzipped.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAastZ5nnR2fYvhlDXfaPXyqPDrLLwkyTBIXdq03OVwVRtneQj4V9SexkYEsa-GFcaXhnYdPGw9aTLtzhWr3s15VWxsU1lQNMpy2d_YPr2_SpiMyd7AgssktLETYuC25UqQB937ptaRJU/s1600/DSCN4963.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAastZ5nnR2fYvhlDXfaPXyqPDrLLwkyTBIXdq03OVwVRtneQj4V9SexkYEsa-GFcaXhnYdPGw9aTLtzhWr3s15VWxsU1lQNMpy2d_YPr2_SpiMyd7AgssktLETYuC25UqQB937ptaRJU/s1600/DSCN4963.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;">
This is my freakout face.</div>
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After a few basic instructions, and the traditional singing of "Happy Birthday" to the organizer Chris's son Jack, the 1400 or so riders rolled out in a controlled start. Mechanical problems struck the group immediately. I saw for sure one rider with a flat within the first mile, and at least a dozen riders working on their bikes in the first ten miles.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7NbKyWRPqGZJ8vbnwV9A19klFboCaiLDgz65L2rKIO0yZR6v0LkszLR3Fx9BgBVU4KSkzQZhyphenhyphen7TqNMVzqt7mLhEtv21Avch82JSzx6TWI54wW04mg8WFm4vguUkYWtiLGnVOixpyzh4A/s1600/DSCN4978.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7NbKyWRPqGZJ8vbnwV9A19klFboCaiLDgz65L2rKIO0yZR6v0LkszLR3Fx9BgBVU4KSkzQZhyphenhyphen7TqNMVzqt7mLhEtv21Avch82JSzx6TWI54wW04mg8WFm4vguUkYWtiLGnVOixpyzh4A/s1600/DSCN4978.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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The first 40 miles went by in a blur. I was busy adjusting to riding in a group, getting settled in for a long day on the bike, and grappling with the different nature of the gravel in this area. The gravel is faster than what I am used to, and that coupled with a tailwind gave me an average speed in the 16 mph range. I found myself passing a lot, especially on climbs. Was I going too fast? Was I going to burn out? I tried to settle down, and mostly evened my pace out after the first big climb at mile 10.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlcDzhTSz06BmBOyLfvq1bVc1Zhj4K5qTgzcK2oDnnMEzu8lFR9xRCR_GAzAJTlelzCsa330UxSnSeVuDvyQc9v5ET5cvippQAXeAfNFYOBtxxlWc_gxst3shXFoCwiYjnEOs_Kltrgyc/s1600/DSCN0181.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlcDzhTSz06BmBOyLfvq1bVc1Zhj4K5qTgzcK2oDnnMEzu8lFR9xRCR_GAzAJTlelzCsa330UxSnSeVuDvyQc9v5ET5cvippQAXeAfNFYOBtxxlWc_gxst3shXFoCwiYjnEOs_Kltrgyc/s1600/DSCN0181.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roads were very chalky, and hence, dusty.</td></tr>
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I had arranged to meet my wife in Preston, which was the only place where outside help was allowed. As I got closer, I started texting her my mileage to give her a better idea of where I was on the course. Trouble was, I wasn't getting any response. I knew that cell signal was spotty, and nonexistent at our campsite. I also was coming into Preston at least 40 minutes ahead of schedule. I texted my arrival to her, and got a panicked text stating that she was on her way, but was 20 min out. Time for a nap and an assessment.</div>
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At this point I was feeling pretty good. My legs had plenty of zip in them, and my mood was good. My back was starting to become an issue though. On gravel rides longer than 20 miles, my lower back starts to hurt pretty good. Stretching usually helped, but I was worried about those stretches losing their effectiveness over the next 60 miles.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX0z9AAnMzfiYxYynN4_z3_WX_3eq3CfK9AZxSLiiINFD3M6fmflEq7XTvKg-4er04qCcwwETFl9QCYJ5a66RlDHqGPcfei5nu7eT4EVnX6l6RxKCLIuJg4OzH1xwfmUIJ_r5_543PiAY/s1600/DSCN0187.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX0z9AAnMzfiYxYynN4_z3_WX_3eq3CfK9AZxSLiiINFD3M6fmflEq7XTvKg-4er04qCcwwETFl9QCYJ5a66RlDHqGPcfei5nu7eT4EVnX6l6RxKCLIuJg4OzH1xwfmUIJ_r5_543PiAY/s1600/DSCN0187.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was a flawless day to be out riding.</td></tr>
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<div>
After the Preston stop, the ride became work. I now faced into the wind, and the elation of riding in groups was gone. Typically I could see one rider in front of me. I would catch that rider, then move onto the next. The enormity of the remaining ride, knowing about some of the nasty climbs coming up, put me in the lowest point of the ride. When I wasn't climbing, I was slugging in out with the wind. A welcome mood boost came when a cheerful volunteer along the road yelled "you're at mile 65, good job!" My bike computer, which I had suspected was off, was showing me at mile 60. Five free miles felt pretty good. Soon after that came the welcome Forestville Checkpoint.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd3-GWfp-VtNGQMoFG9jHFEgsyGNdUqIlKGUS-bkkfBdPPn_91Z2JwkCAZ8KTy20Z5muBSzZ84sQW0-6ejmlCTic2SG8X6Ql_KPZaUjBscCDyPq9_UoDwxv0ptDhVlFz_QDRuX-Qqrino/s1600/DSCN0190.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd3-GWfp-VtNGQMoFG9jHFEgsyGNdUqIlKGUS-bkkfBdPPn_91Z2JwkCAZ8KTy20Z5muBSzZ84sQW0-6ejmlCTic2SG8X6Ql_KPZaUjBscCDyPq9_UoDwxv0ptDhVlFz_QDRuX-Qqrino/s1600/DSCN0190.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I bet someone in this crowd knows where the water is at.<br />Did I ask any of them? Nope.</td></tr>
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<div>
There was Coke, beer, various salty snacks, and some wonderfully shady trees. But I didn't see any water. I had left Preston with just two bottles (a bit dumb) counting on a refill at this stop. I drank a can of Coke and headed out, WITHOUT ASKING ANYONE ABOUT WATER. Clearly I was 1) more fuzzy in the head than I realized, and 2) an idiot. I was heading out for the final 40 miles of this ride with two half empty bottles.</div>
<div>
<br />
Not long after my departure, I realized my error, but resolved to keep going and hope that a second unofficial checkpoint from 2013 would still be in existence, or else beg some water from a local farmer. Then, about 20 miles later, I rolled into a small town and saw bikers massing around some small tents. It was perfect, and like a mirage out of a fever dream.<br />
<br />
There was water(I'm saved!), Coke (nectar of the gods), Oreos(!), beer(later), whisky(nope) and a man dressed up like Elvis singing Devo. I'm not kidding.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDQv_5M-97YAXNrcWb21vDVrepX_Y1_p78rm19qaVzfvhYnUu-DHHIJ8EZk1EVd1kymwEfQeqB-38cNNPQWh3vp3067uLQhpTmwJfy5qob-Hwn1R9nHDas5C9uxvRomH-cZpVRG69cknw/s1600/10325644_10152361842266281_3016650486935312800_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDQv_5M-97YAXNrcWb21vDVrepX_Y1_p78rm19qaVzfvhYnUu-DHHIJ8EZk1EVd1kymwEfQeqB-38cNNPQWh3vp3067uLQhpTmwJfy5qob-Hwn1R9nHDas5C9uxvRomH-cZpVRG69cknw/s1600/10325644_10152361842266281_3016650486935312800_n.jpg" height="356" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No idea. (<a href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10152361842266281&set=a.10152361805881281.1073741870.76326186280&type=3&theater">H/T Banjo Bros</a>)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhldCq6TV5Wdyvmk2f6nIb3VFD5mkrxvF2mBQiK4zQQesv2DNSad2KLQsWTN7w-zeuf9HPMphQGWGvhXSXOIIRXZRiH9DxpCDVSSo0UY24d7FjvGP8383CJR-Kh2VYQbGdRAnT3Z1PVflY/s1600/14029157488_b5ed621a4b_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhldCq6TV5Wdyvmk2f6nIb3VFD5mkrxvF2mBQiK4zQQesv2DNSad2KLQsWTN7w-zeuf9HPMphQGWGvhXSXOIIRXZRiH9DxpCDVSSo0UY24d7FjvGP8383CJR-Kh2VYQbGdRAnT3Z1PVflY/s1600/14029157488_b5ed621a4b_z.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I promise I was there. I'm in red, to the right of the tent, <br />slumped against the white building. (<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/mnbiketrailnavigator/14029157488/in/set-72157644723117731">H/T MN Bike Trails Navigator</a>)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Feeling hydrated and thoroughly tripped out, I headed out and soon snagged the end of a paceline. Not only did this group get me through a few rough miles, but sticking with them kept me from attacking hills as I had earlier in the ride. This section was made considerably easy by this gang, who I found out later was from Georgia. Thanks guys!<br />
<br />
One of the fun features of the Almanzo is the river crossing. Last year they had to route around the river, since high water levels made the crossing borderline dangerous. No such issues this year. Some riders attempted to ride across the river, with about a 50% success rate. I found wading barefoot through the cold water felt pretty good.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN-MMRQPQHmDv2N7elW5-y6ccYqP9z-QUguOkR7Fx6EXXEIf8QZIHXw0FANHheGkz1HPxBoTUI07Nd180SexBqh5nzmwwncIq7kOa2ux4pIH61EQuhx4iwzKtZ4PzIMJdj_WOLDbyY7vg/s1600/DSCN0193.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN-MMRQPQHmDv2N7elW5-y6ccYqP9z-QUguOkR7Fx6EXXEIf8QZIHXw0FANHheGkz1HPxBoTUI07Nd180SexBqh5nzmwwncIq7kOa2ux4pIH61EQuhx4iwzKtZ4PzIMJdj_WOLDbyY7vg/s1600/DSCN0193.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There was considerable debate about crossing barefoot and risking the sharp rocks,<br /> or crossing with shoes and getting wet socks.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Getting out of this river valley was especially fun, it was barely a road at all. Here, and throughout the course, the 40mm Clement MSO's really shone. They were stable, grippy, comfortable tires, and I love them.<br />
<br />
My first and only flat struck not long after the river crossing at about mile 84. The group I was with continued on while I did a quick swap. Maybe it was the adrenaline from doing the repair, maybe it was the time spent off the bike, but for whatever reason my back stopped hurting after that flat. With just 15 miles to go, I knew I could finish, and with energy to burn I set my highest average speed since leaving Preston. I still ended up walking the last two big hills, but I used that time to keep limber, eat, and check cues. I knew my wife was waiting for me (with the headwind I was now a few hours behind schedule) and I wanted to be done, wanted that finish line, wanted to see her again after a long day.<br />
<br />
Cue mental motivational music:<br />
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After many hours of working through the miles, I remembered how fortunate I was to be here, in this beautiful place, riding a great bike surrounded by crazy people, with my wonderful wife running support.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxEBhTRSNPAmg3nAdpIL19sDaup41uBHNJqtbUlLGbQyUd4kfBR2PEM39KY7ZL6aA16JEHcR2SMSdkcGzTJW23i5Bb-j-LldGXnsXBYB6BVeuu8PLJpPD_aPZV7ctjuGZ0u7ZxDJiB7ag/s1600/DSCN0197.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxEBhTRSNPAmg3nAdpIL19sDaup41uBHNJqtbUlLGbQyUd4kfBR2PEM39KY7ZL6aA16JEHcR2SMSdkcGzTJW23i5Bb-j-LldGXnsXBYB6BVeuu8PLJpPD_aPZV7ctjuGZ0u7ZxDJiB7ag/s1600/DSCN0197.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everybody was tired by this point. Nobody was talking.<br />But no one was complaining either.</td></tr>
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Maybe it was just the endorphins and the adrenaline talking, but I was a happy to be so wrung out. The last 1/2 mile was on a city bike path, and I felt like I was flying. I got my handshake from Chris, (Thanks!) and shambled over to my wife.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZB9fzulDqPlFre3Q51YtHu9x_aufbZRCK5_QutC-Y4HjJtdsIXFHw7-j8nyH0HZXca39uZMvdSbj0G5X1hl-b8WFSLE9yt02s9_kV_vxK4NjuUfMlbb76ZlQGudZLrV60zJ5vL8f_2ck/s1600/DSCN4986.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZB9fzulDqPlFre3Q51YtHu9x_aufbZRCK5_QutC-Y4HjJtdsIXFHw7-j8nyH0HZXca39uZMvdSbj0G5X1hl-b8WFSLE9yt02s9_kV_vxK4NjuUfMlbb76ZlQGudZLrV60zJ5vL8f_2ck/s1600/DSCN4986.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maybe a bit tired.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I'm very happy with how the event went. I had no disabling injuries or mechanicals, and despite my best attempts to dehydrate myself, I finished feeling pretty good. Compared to other rides (notably a disastrous 55 mile day during RAGBRAI 2012 where I thoroughly freaked out my wife and brother) I was not dangerously exhausted.<br />
<br />
Will I do Almanzo again? I'm not sure at this point. Even with the event itself being free, it still is an investment to travel here, and training took up a lot of my time. I'm definitely hooked on gravel riding, so we'll see what next year brings.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFwkyu92wae1AR2Iciup4OH7m8WkqRv8YGfN27PG8H9TxKXsOF5Sp5jc6jd6Rcx4bsIjx4qpNOq_NbUcNMyA69R9poZ3DAx2dNFynQvOvlYdTsJCLxSXC3g-FPr5uj6weUgkXvLH1Jjcs/s1600/DSCN4988.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFwkyu92wae1AR2Iciup4OH7m8WkqRv8YGfN27PG8H9TxKXsOF5Sp5jc6jd6Rcx4bsIjx4qpNOq_NbUcNMyA69R9poZ3DAx2dNFynQvOvlYdTsJCLxSXC3g-FPr5uj6weUgkXvLH1Jjcs/s1600/DSCN4988.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Done.<br />(custom tulip stitching courtesy my wife. Thanks love!)</td></tr>
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Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877735612105981139.post-4824692000730031142014-03-25T08:33:00.000-06:002014-03-25T10:21:57.958-06:00Errandonnee 2014!After a long, cold winter that reminded us all of our human longing for sun and heat, spring seems to be arriving fashionably late to the Midwest. I heard someone on the radio remarking that surviving a winter on the northern plains requires a patient spirit and a short attention span. Basically, we tolerate the months of cold, then promptly forget about it as soon as the weather gets above freezing.<br />
<br />
This is all to say that I was very grateful that MG scheduled the Errandonnee a month later than last year. Doing this in February would have been possible-I'm generally more stubborn than sensible anyhow-but it would not have been a fun endeavor. Plus, now I can include pictures of the cutest children in the world, who also conveniently happen to be my own.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8hVCuOASPAVJrevplokCEUWL3Fy_XSgXpSV0u2QGnbQDcjsE8zmx18ZanYlV-ZW830Ybp362jBvQykXahwLwQHM9ZDGI0DgHOhHXX5axYn5yxwT6EvJ8SFV8zW1FTlIjqXphyhccJwn8/s1600/DSCN4673.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8hVCuOASPAVJrevplokCEUWL3Fy_XSgXpSV0u2QGnbQDcjsE8zmx18ZanYlV-ZW830Ybp362jBvQykXahwLwQHM9ZDGI0DgHOhHXX5axYn5yxwT6EvJ8SFV8zW1FTlIjqXphyhccJwn8/s1600/DSCN4673.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Now if I could only get photo proof of that.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Errand 1<br />
3/8/14<br />
Category: Lunch<br />
1.0 Miles<br />
The Fruited Plain Cafe<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifeA1gzhAozXi5H2eL6KhMmHyYSFZcofOU7PE6v8mY3Jd02a-wlLZaZC_x70rK0NBMROlOP0NBS0qjrwetP54Cnmju6OHqnyz4b4Pm8bUeui8XkvHoENSWIFwRcS7LLRZWsJOmma_rOqI/s1600/DSCN4658.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifeA1gzhAozXi5H2eL6KhMmHyYSFZcofOU7PE6v8mY3Jd02a-wlLZaZC_x70rK0NBMROlOP0NBS0qjrwetP54Cnmju6OHqnyz4b4Pm8bUeui8XkvHoENSWIFwRcS7LLRZWsJOmma_rOqI/s1600/DSCN4658.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
The short ride to the cafe featured lots of little old ladies peeking through their steering wheels grinning at the kids and I slow rolling. Saturday was give-mom-a-break day, so we stopped by the FP for some flat bread pizza (pepperoni, nothing fancy but the kids love it so I will capitulate).<br />
<br />
Errand 2<br />
3/8/14<br />
Wild Card<br />
.7 Miles<br />
The Centre Mall (Model airplane show)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4-SS11jY257MRbemLXmd9IgPL0U4Ha464g2yKZSX4k1TdWGs51eWr3C0WocZHxkrvHlgsgGJey-xbo6mhyphenhyphendO-QdRaxoipMg9IvZ1gtRrasG3DeQ6IYm5gWWR99ax0-CmHQNsc6iZWEgQ/s1600/DSCN4661.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4-SS11jY257MRbemLXmd9IgPL0U4Ha464g2yKZSX4k1TdWGs51eWr3C0WocZHxkrvHlgsgGJey-xbo6mhyphenhyphendO-QdRaxoipMg9IvZ1gtRrasG3DeQ6IYm5gWWR99ax0-CmHQNsc6iZWEgQ/s1600/DSCN4661.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Every time I looked away she shuffled a little bit closer.</td></tr>
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<br />
The local mall is just a hop across the highway from our lunch stop. This Saturday the mall was hosting a remote control airplane show. Nothing was flying, but the models on their own were very cool. The gentleman responsible for the giant half built glider said that he was about 300 hrs into his project. "About 80% done with around 80% left to go." as he put it.<br />
My daughter was fascinated (this meant a barrage of questions). My son, being 16 months old, was not allowed anywhere near.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBus6fQgX9Z82M1WNIzsM61Sok3r8udWA9vi23-oUxnkQ8_ntrim4CW2Fs-uNFJJF3fAXQEKOcrfC8Jc6uga_c5NEskm0cWit3H5Kwa43HOp9Tyi4Nu9cx7My1KabulrVnV9W1O8QMzIw/s1600/DSCN4666.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBus6fQgX9Z82M1WNIzsM61Sok3r8udWA9vi23-oUxnkQ8_ntrim4CW2Fs-uNFJJF3fAXQEKOcrfC8Jc6uga_c5NEskm0cWit3H5Kwa43HOp9Tyi4Nu9cx7My1KabulrVnV9W1O8QMzIw/s1600/DSCN4666.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When it comes to attracting the detail obsessive, the model airplane people are our kin.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Errand 3<br />
3/10/14<br />
Store that is not a Grocery<br />
3.2 Miles<br />
Wal-Mart<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ9YQB18jBTlO4AtjRYLsVRN_2sj11z3lVK9fT0fwWaKWHqrnCtowENmyVlmfqTurvzRGJGtox8eeR9w7nonT9aQnJQVDtnoTvz-1tllcM-9sh3UrW3qUPPZbxGRGQOS4PQfbDrfJaRaU/s1600/DSCN4675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ9YQB18jBTlO4AtjRYLsVRN_2sj11z3lVK9fT0fwWaKWHqrnCtowENmyVlmfqTurvzRGJGtox8eeR9w7nonT9aQnJQVDtnoTvz-1tllcM-9sh3UrW3qUPPZbxGRGQOS4PQfbDrfJaRaU/s1600/DSCN4675.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As we move through the errands, the quantity of snow slowly decreases<br />
Yeehaa!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I despise Wal-Mart, if for no other reason than their grocery is laid out for maximum confusion, but I'll be stopping here more often if I want a chance at getting the needed number of miles. This was one of the first times that I've rode my road bike this spring, and it was glorious after months of slugging it out with the longtail. I've also been putting the Banjo Bros Saddle Trunk through it's paces the last couple of weeks. It's remarkable what you can cram in there, it actually works pretty good for light errands. Speaking of road bikes, I've got something new and shiny coming down the line that might make an appearance yet this week.<br />
<br />
Errand 4<br />
3/11/14<br />
Work<br />
1.0 Miles<br />
The Fruited Plain<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjucMdyLJfVZX1j5KKe5FoLof37aHGiBQ6cvn_EVCsMgRJDXbgZ3FL9UUHKqk5CyonmUk44UbgnA0pbWVscLknmVZKYJOwplx2X8hZX2FUzQwfqI0xSWX6Dta_732I1kzVL5rGuqtVazg8/s1600/DSCN4704.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjucMdyLJfVZX1j5KKe5FoLof37aHGiBQ6cvn_EVCsMgRJDXbgZ3FL9UUHKqk5CyonmUk44UbgnA0pbWVscLknmVZKYJOwplx2X8hZX2FUzQwfqI0xSWX6Dta_732I1kzVL5rGuqtVazg8/s1600/DSCN4704.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Longtail switched over to muffin mode.<br />
The purple tub has a dozen of the best Blueberry muffins you've ever had.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
So, I don't technically work for The Fruited Plain. My wife does their baking from our home, and every morning I deliver the morning muffins. I don't get paid, but I do raid the day-olds, which I think counts as a wage. I've been doing this short ride 5 days a week almost without fail since Christmas (a studded tire as a Christmas present greatly increased the conditions I could ride in). After a nasty prolonged winter, it is wonderful to be able to simply enjoy a quick morning ride, instead of bundling up into a "fortress against the cold" as my brother puts it.<br />
<br />
Errand 5<br />
3/11/14<br />
Community Meeting<br />
Church<br />
1.0 Miles<br />
(VOID-Photo lost)<br />
My bike for this ride is the trusty Schwinn World tourist. It had been my go-to errand runner before the snow started flying (which was several months ago) so this short ride was a pleasant reunion. Despite it's weight, oddball shifting and many paint scratches, this bike just makes me smile. It's a bike that'll get me somewhere, sometime, whatever.<br />
<br />
Errand 6<br />
3/12/14<br />
Personal Care and Health<br />
Snap Fitness<br />
3.2 Miles<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGb3XURYy7vSvOzfLX61uYP8T6u5meU0pS_VZuJ8DbwhnfanweulAk92bxMl8-ugcKyicRRwYYa7QhD9esxYTVKyKDM4iyKpUDDgWrw_mIJKYPrAH8d3MJXqynTBZLixDufNFMtNiBYA4/s1600/DSCN4713.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGb3XURYy7vSvOzfLX61uYP8T6u5meU0pS_VZuJ8DbwhnfanweulAk92bxMl8-ugcKyicRRwYYa7QhD9esxYTVKyKDM4iyKpUDDgWrw_mIJKYPrAH8d3MJXqynTBZLixDufNFMtNiBYA4/s1600/DSCN4713.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Ordinarily, I'm not a gym/health club person. In part because I'm too cheap to pay for membership, and because (and my suspicions were confirmed on this) running on a treadmill sounds like a mild level of hell. My wife and I are participating in a marathon/half marathon challenge as part of Live Healthy Iowa, which is a state run 100 day wellness program. The challenge is to run a half or full marathon over the course of the week. I'm going for the full 26.2. This means getting up a 4:30 to get to Snap by 5:00, run 8 miles, and get back to the house by 6:30 to prep for work. Snap is a very nice place, people are friendly, but I really do not know how people can do this on a regular basis. I will happily run through the winter, polar vortex be hanged, if I can stay off that treadmill. That said, a easy bike ride makes a wonderful warm-up/cool-down after a long run.<br />
<br />
Errand 7<br />
03/14/14<br />
Personal Care and Health<br />
Snap Fitness<br />
3.2<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWQV6057vohFwNiA29WXXDCluyETaU2zzu2WTOw2Apb2Di753elCzuJZZXCSGUG2dVL2Mjl2n1JKrihJ6EFvfvi5JpAk6GzMxg3WKKAYtlhnVVy6746zpSabD6GXKFYvSjLc-_9zyIMbU/s1600/DSCN4714.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWQV6057vohFwNiA29WXXDCluyETaU2zzu2WTOw2Apb2Di753elCzuJZZXCSGUG2dVL2Mjl2n1JKrihJ6EFvfvi5JpAk6GzMxg3WKKAYtlhnVVy6746zpSabD6GXKFYvSjLc-_9zyIMbU/s1600/DSCN4714.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
Back to Snap again for the 4th and final time. The previous evening I did a 9.5 slug out with the treadmill. This morning was an easier 3.0 to finish out the marathon challenge. All I know is that it is time to start training for Almanzo, and I am through with running indoors. I've mentioned it before, but the Banjo Bros Saddle trunk is working pretty well as a gym bag. Also: with the exception of the mall, there is not a single business in town that has a bike rack. I may have to start complaining.<br />
<br />
Errand 8<br />
Work<br />
3/15/14<br />
1.0<br />
Brothers Bike Shop<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiySol31lQEH88zaw_i6rf7DfeVINohyphenhyphen7cDlDy-wgu-c2YRm8wiQ-oE2dk6peGl6uRhyphenhyphengjG2rc58elwUdLrlTlx_RRFzLuEtUVRlYAR2iEtFqDJ0fVQP18XFPPbM4YIe-7lNTg87xHnjCI/s1600/DSCN4715.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiySol31lQEH88zaw_i6rf7DfeVINohyphenhyphen7cDlDy-wgu-c2YRm8wiQ-oE2dk6peGl6uRhyphenhyphengjG2rc58elwUdLrlTlx_RRFzLuEtUVRlYAR2iEtFqDJ0fVQP18XFPPbM4YIe-7lNTg87xHnjCI/s1600/DSCN4715.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Calm before the storm</td></tr>
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<br />
Time to sink or swim. I work part time at a small bike shop not far from my home. Over the winter, things get very quiet, so much so that I had not worked in the shop since late November. Now I was back, but my boss was gone for the weekend, so it's just me and the bike mad masses. RAGBRAI will be starting about 15 miles from my shop, and spring fever had everyone all frothing at the mouth to get out. The morning went by in a blur, but I think I was able to get everything and everyone sorted out and happy.<br />
<br />
Errand 9<br />
3/18/14<br />
Bike Shop<br />
1.0<br />
Brothers Bike Shop<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwYAvV6_5ven-eCRYDwo7sGzkruL2veA2ulF6-FdJaB07UGvZF4jtarYocFJLjLlqSY22M_JAVgexzT-z9zQCLz6kHOa2B3RNOKT1hyDunDh_LNnZzb9-RwPp3MHuHwaLT9ZOsSSoWSZg/s1600/DSCN4723.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwYAvV6_5ven-eCRYDwo7sGzkruL2veA2ulF6-FdJaB07UGvZF4jtarYocFJLjLlqSY22M_JAVgexzT-z9zQCLz6kHOa2B3RNOKT1hyDunDh_LNnZzb9-RwPp3MHuHwaLT9ZOsSSoWSZg/s1600/DSCN4723.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
NEW BIKE DAY! I am proud to welcome the newest member of my family's bike stable: The Civia Prospect. Though this bike was built to be used as a quick commuter/light touring bike, I think it has excellent potential as a gravel bike (comes with 32 mm stock, can go 35 mm without issue). The plan is to use this bike for the Almanzo 100 in May. If nothing else, it is a very pretty bike with enormous capability. I had intended to assemble the bike last weekend, but the very busy shop kept me from it. This meant getting to the shop at around 5am, which is early even for me. I'm a bit new at the bike assembly business, so this was actually the first bike I've put together that required cutting the steerer tube to length. Lets just say I took my time. Since the pedals for the new bike are at my house, I towed the new bike while riding my old city bike. I don't suppose that means I can double my mileage, since I was "riding" two bikes? (I'm also counting this as "Bike Shop" and not "Work" because I did not draw a wage assembling my own bike)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikgIgDHmq2204RsK3WattOlG3W5r57MSmaV55FOk-t2B9oQ_rBrbNnlq_EtMD5jzogsamXmdNkn0kjUxJLuTryRFGWVEzKSVvHP8s_mslzZ3P_dAQtoR1aW5hJ8Ci9Q77duF5ARht3rzE/s1600/DSCN4772.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikgIgDHmq2204RsK3WattOlG3W5r57MSmaV55FOk-t2B9oQ_rBrbNnlq_EtMD5jzogsamXmdNkn0kjUxJLuTryRFGWVEzKSVvHP8s_mslzZ3P_dAQtoR1aW5hJ8Ci9Q77duF5ARht3rzE/s1600/DSCN4772.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Prospect fully set up. Also, a giant pile o' gravel.<br />
I trespassed to get this photo. Hope that's okay.</td></tr>
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<br />
Errand 10<br />
3/19/14<br />
Store which is not a Grocery<br />
3.2<br />
Wal-Mart<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtglaPRNqqPwfTUYCrNitoIvKIQmhD-jHJa2DhuQRcaPvZN98Lh-E458HZQuYSaBcr7ehmhADc8ryjywxSsGVmU06srTi3Am4evG5puoJQj3TPgZ_UV4smT6dYwZmNM6YdHnqFw7LJ-iw/s1600/DSCN4724.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtglaPRNqqPwfTUYCrNitoIvKIQmhD-jHJa2DhuQRcaPvZN98Lh-E458HZQuYSaBcr7ehmhADc8ryjywxSsGVmU06srTi3Am4evG5puoJQj3TPgZ_UV4smT6dYwZmNM6YdHnqFw7LJ-iw/s1600/DSCN4724.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Really, this is a photo of me with a bag of bags strapped to my back.<br />
I'm bad at selfies.</td></tr>
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Here's your oddball errand. We try to recycle our plastic bags, (I know, we should use reusable bags, we're trying) and the places in town that accept them are the local grocery stores and Wal-Mart. Our pantry was overflowing with plastic bags, so my mission was to simply get rid of them. Here's your 1st world problem: which bike? We have the old bike with a giant rack which would easily accept my bag o' bags, or the new (hellloooo shiny) road bike which had no provisions for a bulky load like this. The problem was solved by using bungee cords to strap the giant bag of bags to my back. I may have garnered a bunch of stares in the Wal-Mart parking lot looking like a very late Father Christmas, but I'm too bike happy to care.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJXfypbnA-kkhPPU8NzGDn98_khy3Qq53j4L2Pi0akhr6SFUTPy8JJ05YGwsAjgcJMk40wIQwbt4M4nYfjWkJ2yB8zbFTaVwuaOX3eURX_0oxkF_59E9cMhdD83XUXN80zjgQkE-BYu_c/s1600/DSCN4725.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJXfypbnA-kkhPPU8NzGDn98_khy3Qq53j4L2Pi0akhr6SFUTPy8JJ05YGwsAjgcJMk40wIQwbt4M4nYfjWkJ2yB8zbFTaVwuaOX3eURX_0oxkF_59E9cMhdD83XUXN80zjgQkE-BYu_c/s1600/DSCN4725.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Errand 11<br />
3/20/14<br />
Library<br />
10.0<br />
Hulst Library (Dordt College)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtamBoOiul2ySotN9FB1H1JV4yXBN9jX8OviKh2Dq5rWVOZ_aB_exG9DHPN43bTsYU6kW_vaFPTLsEudvDMzbG0oSdvdtGUrRwrxbcFNg5GhrAto_A4b1_IJZrYHYBWMbvAS6LgMQ2tic/s1600/DSCN4726.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtamBoOiul2ySotN9FB1H1JV4yXBN9jX8OviKh2Dq5rWVOZ_aB_exG9DHPN43bTsYU6kW_vaFPTLsEudvDMzbG0oSdvdtGUrRwrxbcFNg5GhrAto_A4b1_IJZrYHYBWMbvAS6LgMQ2tic/s1600/DSCN4726.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Some quick work with a calculator revealed that I was barely half way to satisfying the mileage requirement for the Errandonnee. Some shameless padding was required. The library in question is about 3/4 of a mile from my home. The route I took looks something like this:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4pY1iqVfbV2VUHmn4ws5iaMO1vCR8dmqBJRXD-p7h-NWtLDhd8fP-s36-zVBqjrqBu-2rlWGZJTQeMnbf7hjZy17WqriHQP_IjppsinmqRCmLkeADhbgV2FLXWIOgZ_md6gtA0BmyGPM/s1600/Route.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4pY1iqVfbV2VUHmn4ws5iaMO1vCR8dmqBJRXD-p7h-NWtLDhd8fP-s36-zVBqjrqBu-2rlWGZJTQeMnbf7hjZy17WqriHQP_IjppsinmqRCmLkeADhbgV2FLXWIOgZ_md6gtA0BmyGPM/s1600/Route.JPG" height="336" width="400" /></a></div>
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Basically direct route to the library to return a DVD, then proceeded to do a very good impression of someone seriously lost. One of the bad parts of a small town is I'm confined to this mess for training when it's too dark to ride in the country. It gets really old. But this was the first little shakedown ride for the new road bike, and I think that we'll do well together. The Prospect is technically the same size as my old road bike, same material, same tire width, built with the same focus, but they are very different animals. The Prospect feels much more stretched out, due in part to having STI and some very wide handlebars(48mm vs the 40mm of my old bike). The bike feels like riding a very sedate bull sometimes. Due somewhat to the expansive feeling of the bike, it doesn't feel as snappy as my older bike, whether that actually means it's slower is harder to quantify. The other big thing I've noticed is how quiet the bike is. I keep my Sekai in pretty good order, but it is still a 25 year old bike, and bits always rattle. The Prospect is like riding a ghost. A bull ghost.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoWxRclRh70oKUP4PZVIAEGGmYZlUpZKN6BDzee0ADj7-ePE4q8EBb0OejQSXtrFgm6xzwTaXyNCkbkrGZLKcDnCf_SrOHUs4Lbjehr8baMxkT51N98vXm__CiuPK9XO1xLyAQaWkVvSw/s1600/DSCN4731.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoWxRclRh70oKUP4PZVIAEGGmYZlUpZKN6BDzee0ADj7-ePE4q8EBb0OejQSXtrFgm6xzwTaXyNCkbkrGZLKcDnCf_SrOHUs4Lbjehr8baMxkT51N98vXm__CiuPK9XO1xLyAQaWkVvSw/s1600/DSCN4731.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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Errand 12</div>
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3/20/14</div>
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Wild Card</div>
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All Seasons Center (Indoor Fair)</div>
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2.7 Miles</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuFXijuKkOFvbwTp37eNtdSfN3GJsNkT4mlLtEBhjteHRo6qGS9qMV2NpIsOHrslDT7oYsbasmoaXHH6clYb35DX0qg9NGfQ3EznQt6yy7GM4Ak5rng_VUSM4TZ3au9v-eo6jSbgmcqnw/s1600/DSCN4732.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuFXijuKkOFvbwTp37eNtdSfN3GJsNkT4mlLtEBhjteHRo6qGS9qMV2NpIsOHrslDT7oYsbasmoaXHH6clYb35DX0qg9NGfQ3EznQt6yy7GM4Ak5rng_VUSM4TZ3au9v-eo6jSbgmcqnw/s1600/DSCN4732.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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The Sioux Center Indoor fair is a local business promotion event. Area business set up booths, and you can ask them questions, and they try to sell you stuff. There are giveaways and food on the cheap, and its generally a good time. The kids and I arrived with one very specific goal in mind: Get a balloon. If you have young children, you know that at all costs, you MUST GET THE BALLOON. We got a balloon, then got out of there. By the way, a balloon flying behind your bike makes for an excellent driver attention getting device. No pictures of the balloon, sorry.</div>
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Errand 13</div>
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3/20/14</div>
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Coffee Shop</div>
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The Fruited Plain</div>
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3.2</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3xm3AJV-OC1-4C2r8R51pdmm1ipdbS8xDdqFf-kU4sarnvqI_hMv90U9SgZXoWIC99FDhqo0xgI6oEdNGBAAlOdh6gxyq1ZT3v4H6OPP3KQfq4jeqBuk8Fkjqo4PvmnNSMGnqI1R32Dk/s1600/DSCN4736.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3xm3AJV-OC1-4C2r8R51pdmm1ipdbS8xDdqFf-kU4sarnvqI_hMv90U9SgZXoWIC99FDhqo0xgI6oEdNGBAAlOdh6gxyq1ZT3v4H6OPP3KQfq4jeqBuk8Fkjqo4PvmnNSMGnqI1R32Dk/s1600/DSCN4736.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh, the glamorous places you'll go.</td></tr>
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We're into bonus territory here because I needed a few more miles to get over the minimum. My daughter shares a birthday month with MG (Cake for everyone!). My wife decided to make an Elsa dress for my daughter because she's the coolest mother in the world. She had completed the dress with the exception of some serging that needed to be done along the hem. This a problem, but fortunately we have some friends in well equipped places who were more than happy to finish the dress off. A pound of coffee was agreed upon as payment (Perhaps a bit generous, but if you need to serge and you do not have a serger, you're sunk). After padding my route a bit, I swung by the shop, stuffed the coffee into the Banjo Bros bag, and called it an erranndonee.</div>
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Thanks again to MG to hosting this event and helping all of us welcome spring with some proper bike riding. The Errandonne always gets me out when the weather says stay in. I hope all of you reading have a wonderful and safe spring.</div>
<br />Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877735612105981139.post-77090306926708440312014-02-12T13:55:00.001-06:002014-02-12T13:55:38.793-06:00Why?<i>This winter's weather has kept many (myself included) inside far more days than we would wish. All that time inside has left me with too much time to think about being on the bike instead of thinking while on the bike. The question of "why" has been most common in my mind. Specifically, I want to know why I would want to do the Almanzo 100. Here are my thoughts now, I'm interested to see what they look like after the event.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I ride - more specifically I train - for the Almanzo because it is impossible. It is effectively impossible right now for me to go out and complete the 100 hilly miles of the Almanzo. Even if I could slug it out through hills and headwinds, it would be an experience so miserable in prospect that I would be unlikely to even begin.<br />
<br />
Before 2012, I had a pretty no-growth view of myself. I had not been involved in an athletics in school, and my attempts at running had led to completing a very frustrating and humiliating 5k in 2011. When RAGBRAI came through in 2012, I fed off the motivation that comes for training for such a public event. Despite my training that summer, I have never completed a ride that left me so beaten. But the ride did plant in my mind the notion that "I can" or at least "I could if I trained." That was new, that was an idea that opened up the possibility of more rides, of longer distances and of harder courses.<br />
<br />
2013 was rather quiet in the early part of the year, I did some shorter rides, but RAGBRAI plans fell through. After RAGBRAI, training picked up in preparation for my first century. That ride went quite well, surprisingly well, in spite of some nasty weather.<br />
<br />
A few months after the century ride, I participated in a 7 mile run on the grounds of the Living History Farms in Urbandale (Des Moines) Iowa. This is a very hilly cross country run that includes several creek crossings where you will get wet. It was also the week before Thanksgiving, and about 18 F. Not being naturally inclined towards running (I was generally one of the slowest runners in my class) I was surprised that I could train for, and actually enjoy an event like this.<br />
<br />
So now Almanzo. By virtue of its length and topography, I fully expect this ride to push me harder than anything I've ever done.<br />
<br />
In the end, I believe the answer to the question "why?" is "because I can." Which sounds shallow and dumb, but it was that realization that I could train myself to become capable of rides like this that in turn enabled me to dream about doing something that was formally impossible. It is that desire to enable and enjoy my potential that gets me up and out when the weather is absolutely against me.Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877735612105981139.post-87712714395530164222014-01-27T16:14:00.001-06:002014-01-30T13:33:13.549-06:00Memory and HumiliationOne of the most distinct memories I have of riding last year happened around mile 60 of the century ride my brother and I did in Sept 2013. We were both feeling the positive effects of a good meal an hour previous, we had no wind, the path was extremely flat and smooth, and were heading back for home. We took turns pulling each other in roughly mile long shifts. I felt no fatigue, just a smooth rhythm at 20 mph. It was awesome.<br />
<br />
That feeling is long gone. The few rides that I've managed to sneak in this year have been slogs, usually against a wall of wind dragging against the multiple layers of clothing I've been forced to don. While this feeling isn't surprising, it is nonetheless discouraging. Prior to 2013, I've never been "in shape" in an athletic sense, so I've never had much to lose. A photo of me a year ago does not look that different from what I looked like at "peak" a few months ago, I lost maybe ten lbs, a good portion of which are back. Now I know what being in shape feels like, and I want it back.<br />
<br />
This summer and fall I could run eight miles at a stop, which had never been possible before. I could bike for a hundred miles and feel pretty good. I could storm through loose gravel without gasping for breath. While my running legs are still mostly functioning, thanks to occasional runs through December, getting hard miles on the bike has been tough, and I feel like I've lost my engine.<br />
<br />
Enough griping, here is what the plan going forward looks like:<br />
<br />
Live Healthy Iowa. I'm teamed up with my wife on this 10 week program. She wants to run her first 5k sometime this year, I would love to drop into the sub 210 or 200 pound range. The program involves tracking weight loss and time exercised as well as access to classes and discounts at the local ice rink and indoor swimming pool. There is also food entry, which'll keep me honest about my snacking. I'm not doing anything fancy (eat less, eat healthy, exercise like mad), but I want to drive down my weight into numbers not seen since high school. At a minimum, I need to either run or ride on a daily basis. I also need to work on core strength to make those rough road more bearable.<br />
<br />
On a side note, I was very surprised to find out that RAGBRAI is coming back to Sioux County! The ride will be starting in Rock Valley which is about 15 miles from me. The shop I work for is the closest local bike shop to the start, so I anticipate things will be very busy come spring.Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877735612105981139.post-1340632878626393522014-01-09T12:46:00.001-06:002014-01-09T12:46:49.319-06:00Spring 2014Now that we've cleared the holidays, the old year recaps and the new year resolutions, not to mention the polar vortex (ice beards for all!), its time to start planning the spring.<br />
<br />
Spring is going to be busy for reasons altogether new to me. I've never been much of an athlete either in comparison with other people in my family, or my classmates in school. So I find it very strange to be training hard right through the nastiness of subzero temps for the <a href="http://almanzo.com/">Almanzo 100</a> and the <a href="http://www.damtodam.com/">Dam to Dam</a> 1/2 marathon, which take place 14 days apart from one another this coming May.<br />
<br />
The Almanzo 100 has been on my mind since I started hearing rumblings about it last year in association with <a href="http://transiowa.blogspot.com/">Trans Iowa</a> and the <a href="http://www.dirtykanza200.com/">Dirty Kanza 200</a>. Unlike either of those extremely demanding rides, the Almanzo is shorter at "only" 100 miles (it is also free!). After watching the <a href="http://vimeo.com/47963412">promo video</a> filmed during the 2012 version, I needed to do this ride.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyakCcNSmuOWK4kbX8300lxMKrOrMo0F2mBXopCUhGyX0uzUSsiiL_lRvldXBIK3MIHEL2_GApKA-LarBHEMA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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The Almanzo is also important because it planted the seed in my mind that riding on gravel with a road bike was not only possible but a ton of fun. That seed grew into a summer of training on the unpaved roads around my hometown. That unpaved training worked me harder for each mile and opened my eyes to the wonderful ride options in my area. After a successful first century this past September, I feel like I have a fighting chance of completing this ride.<br />
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I agreed to run the the Dam to Dam with my father and brother almost as an afterthought. I did the 7 mile <a href="http://www.fitnesssports.com/November_races/LivHistFarms/lhf_index.html">Living History Farms</a> run with them this November, and that went pretty well. The LHF run is a very difficult cross country run from a topographic standpoint, with several creek crossings (it was about 18 deg F) and steep hills that are crawled up more than climbed. I felt that running the flat and mostly downhill Dam to Dam half marathon should be easy by comparison, even with the extra miles.<br />
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But then I noticed that these two events take place exactly 2 weeks apart. While that should be plenty of time to recover from the Almanzo, it means that I need to train for both these events simultaneously. So that's why, come rain or snow or bitter cold, I'll be out running. Once the roads get clean enough for the road bike (maybe this weekend) I'll start sprinkling in the training rides. My current regimen is 2 mi or longer runs every day, plus some core and upper body exercises(I would rather run in sub zero temps than do push-ups, for the record).<br />
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While I need to ride more than run, the poorly lit polished streets do not allow me to actually ride hard enough to train, and the bike itself is not well suited to winter riding. The weather this weekend looks promising.<br />
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The big push is the contracted training window. Last year I had all spring and summer to train for a century. The Almanzo is in May, and it'll be March before I can count on ice and snow free roads. So 2 1/2 good months of riding, 3 at best. I'll keep in touch.<br />
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<i>Unrelated: While I obviously support the idea of riding through the winter, I question the use of many of the "winter cycling clothing" articles that have appeared in the past month. Specialized clothing is almost universally expensive. While that's fine for people riding for recreation, for people seeking to ride as an economical form of transport it sends a message that winter riding is only for people who can afford the correct clothing. If you have clothing that you can walk in and still stay warm, you have clothing you can ride in.</i><br />
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<br />Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877735612105981139.post-76810374042809440862013-11-19T10:53:00.002-06:002013-11-19T10:53:59.324-06:00Coffeenuering Rd 5<b>Coffee Shop #6</b><br />
<b>11/16/13</b><br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Fruited-Plain-Cafe/262085718038"><b>The Fruited Plain Cafe</b></a><br />
<b>Sioux Center</b><br />
<b>3.2 Miles</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtUDhSnaWmxZRrKNsD8Dt_Vz_vjSSkqP_J3F-VtqcM0n1DxuJIQ1HJ3HCXU_OohkmlWInDs6cWdOZHf6PrkD1oiALnNq01_3TtHeiyqoxGh_emnGb0Kp4fS5Qhs4qJOUBRDKu3e3YbFHo/s1600/DSCN4213_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtUDhSnaWmxZRrKNsD8Dt_Vz_vjSSkqP_J3F-VtqcM0n1DxuJIQ1HJ3HCXU_OohkmlWInDs6cWdOZHf6PrkD1oiALnNq01_3TtHeiyqoxGh_emnGb0Kp4fS5Qhs4qJOUBRDKu3e3YbFHo/s400/DSCN4213_2.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
As promised I saved the best for (nearly) last. I broke out the road bike for this ride, this perhaps being the final ride that I will take with this bike before putting it away for the winter. My old Sekai does many things well, but ice and snow are not one of them. Remarkably for this time of year, the weather was (relatively) wonderful.<br />
The Fruited Plain Cafe is one of two shops in the entire county that you can actually order a genuine espresso at. That rarity probably makes me a bad judge of what makes a good/bad espresso, but I must say that I really enjoyed my double shot. The Fruited Plain also offers a pretty wide range of wine and beer (40 or so varieties of each) and makes some very fine baked goods (My wife being the producer of said goods has not influenced my opinion, I swear).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOJAvNLLvJSKQ3kSSeYbJETH4K13MMRZ5zWWofzhWG200SbFAhYweY7k-BmSknz6bnBd_OfhoshgCHhMOM72poXfTYHdYuoWYeGRR0NaZcV9SbtpS3Qk-IMyDI7CRXA3AOHhFHS9s3L9o/s1600/DSCN4215_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOJAvNLLvJSKQ3kSSeYbJETH4K13MMRZ5zWWofzhWG200SbFAhYweY7k-BmSknz6bnBd_OfhoshgCHhMOM72poXfTYHdYuoWYeGRR0NaZcV9SbtpS3Qk-IMyDI7CRXA3AOHhFHS9s3L9o/s400/DSCN4215_2.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
I remarked to the owner that things were quiet at the bike shop (fat biking has not caught on here yet, not sure if it ever will, we have almost no trails nearby). He noted that even with the nice weather, everyone is starting to hunker down for winter. Harvest is all in, gardens have been cleaned, leaves are mostly raked up, and now we wait for the white stuff.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv-ZLmKBlR5n8XluPWW4n8Z3CQ5VgoxyL-1RWFVbqB4m8oKT2I3H48UjtLyXZjUk7oWDkRPD5Tfx0Lda4hNggsOSEkDHlI7fKA4FdVGpqzz-6PydfKCGX979V8npY6WsjLFduJ3Ggf_dY/s1600/DSCN4217.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv-ZLmKBlR5n8XluPWW4n8Z3CQ5VgoxyL-1RWFVbqB4m8oKT2I3H48UjtLyXZjUk7oWDkRPD5Tfx0Lda4hNggsOSEkDHlI7fKA4FdVGpqzz-6PydfKCGX979V8npY6WsjLFduJ3Ggf_dY/s400/DSCN4217.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red;"><b>11/16/2013</b></span><br />
<b>Coffee Shop 6.5 (<span style="color: red;">VOID)</span></b><br />
<b>The Fruited Plain Cafe</b><br />
<span style="color: red;"><b>1.3 Miles</b></span><br />
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<i>I know this coffeeneuing stop doesn't count, but it involves stroopwafels and cute small children with excessive amounts of hot chocolate.</i><br />
Later this same day, I got a notice through Facebook that the Fruited Plain had home made stroepwafels for sale. I mentioned these Dutch treats <a href="http://fourquartets.blogspot.com/2013/10/coffeneuring-rd-2.html">before</a>, but having them fresh is another level of tasty. I had also been promising to take my daughter out for hot chocolate, so off we went for another round of coffee (the things I do for this challenge...)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH-1IxJZ2vB9Y-7YiMkIU_PMmMMHrf2PIJ4a2vlDjWwEa0Kj0lmGpPw7tT3UNgW7oHRacExO_O-ut0oVVohnsKFOsjIA62OlKyY0G4mh8sPBwlkzrb7SQxm9sfhzZLneeKHK0QkAzMOKI/s1600/DSCN4247.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH-1IxJZ2vB9Y-7YiMkIU_PMmMMHrf2PIJ4a2vlDjWwEa0Kj0lmGpPw7tT3UNgW7oHRacExO_O-ut0oVVohnsKFOsjIA62OlKyY0G4mh8sPBwlkzrb7SQxm9sfhzZLneeKHK0QkAzMOKI/s400/DSCN4247.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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On our way over, we had to wait for a train. One side effect of the fight over the Keystone XL pipeline has been more of the Bakken oil field product being shipped by rail. Train traffic in our town has almost tripled since 2011. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leg header. Grain/feed is elevated, then dropped down one of the pipes<br />
for storage before loading out on a truck</td></tr>
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Back to Stroopwafels.<br />
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As mentioned before, these are a traditional Dutch treat, consisting of a thin waffle that has been sliced (think like a bagel) then filled with caramel syrup. In my mind, they are the ultimate coffee dessert.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi536c641F2b4Kw25OGmU23SSxBNY9GXAId6z-WcYDGSfAokldby7o53lEHpTYWnLfPKAhVL004fq-iNsyO7deyGZ48VuIbLyPSRNFzuGjyuIXHPIt4Ywu05GxvE67KWTr8Bfjmg7lejUY/s1600/DSCN4249.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi536c641F2b4Kw25OGmU23SSxBNY9GXAId6z-WcYDGSfAokldby7o53lEHpTYWnLfPKAhVL004fq-iNsyO7deyGZ48VuIbLyPSRNFzuGjyuIXHPIt4Ywu05GxvE67KWTr8Bfjmg7lejUY/s400/DSCN4249.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
Remarkably, my daughter did not find them quite as amazing as I do, but her hot chocolate was another story.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_BoYfN3rUfV2pYBgHE90DWhixPaayFgyhHwrQe1KeETGesYlvtZ2iXlKjsmJEjUK1g7pyzZ9X6tpT4fjgojV7rBtKBEf6mRZi82yN-RRxs2WcQztgkTvosCBZZ6dF6pgkNiDc6yt931E/s1600/DSCN4261_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_BoYfN3rUfV2pYBgHE90DWhixPaayFgyhHwrQe1KeETGesYlvtZ2iXlKjsmJEjUK1g7pyzZ9X6tpT4fjgojV7rBtKBEf6mRZi82yN-RRxs2WcQztgkTvosCBZZ6dF6pgkNiDc6yt931E/s400/DSCN4261_2.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
I tried to emphasize that I wanted a very small hot chocolate for my daughter. It still looked like she was drinking from a soup bowl.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNssIN6Z45IcMxonswC_O33pIwv1MTlftVmPyRHEujmaGlLX8LxZmdEa2FQFnpf7KhqRIE4JFOinJx90kJpCW2h8yyvpekZB_AxHPMsiuJdkiQUr4xc2eD-Nwq_0jpNE8CLJpgGD_yJSE/s1600/DSCN4267.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNssIN6Z45IcMxonswC_O33pIwv1MTlftVmPyRHEujmaGlLX8LxZmdEa2FQFnpf7KhqRIE4JFOinJx90kJpCW2h8yyvpekZB_AxHPMsiuJdkiQUr4xc2eD-Nwq_0jpNE8CLJpgGD_yJSE/s400/DSCN4267.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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But doesn't seem to have been a problem for her.</div>
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<b>11/17/2013</b></div>
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<b>Coffee Shop #7 (without walls)</b></div>
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<b>Lat: 43.064091°</b></div>
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<b>Lon:-96.135596°</b></div>
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<b>4.5 mi</b></div>
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<b>Yerba Mate</b></div>
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Obviously, Iowa is flat and open. And obvious to anyone who has biked here, it gets pretty windy. You know what goes well with wind? Kites.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2oXmRCIFiSphJpbc7avJ7dEeFV_16pkGgY-MLB0pJNvBWQ5lDCvtYx1pGOcuf-GCqDZ0rTqaFnkOHSMLRzEP_5DIUJ9WcStrJt63cYOWeXiMZe_NLA2eqI8hku_O01zmIzkZJZPqisfU/s1600/DSCN4270.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2oXmRCIFiSphJpbc7avJ7dEeFV_16pkGgY-MLB0pJNvBWQ5lDCvtYx1pGOcuf-GCqDZ0rTqaFnkOHSMLRzEP_5DIUJ9WcStrJt63cYOWeXiMZe_NLA2eqI8hku_O01zmIzkZJZPqisfU/s400/DSCN4270.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Highly specialized kite packing rig. </td></tr>
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The kite of choice is a 5' wide parafoil. Two nice features of a parafoil kite are its compact pack (no spars) and it's durability. You can crash these kites as hard as you want, and as long as you don't tear the fabric, its all good. The kite is a two string, which allows for very precise control. I'll admit that it is a bit tough to drink hot tea while flying a two string kite.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The odd perspective on the kite lines is from me trying to shoot from the chest <br />while flying a two handed kite. For scale, the lines are 100' long</td></tr>
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The wind was steady, the sky a brilliant blue, and I'm wringing every minute I can from this out of season wonderful weather. Weekend is looking cold and wet (just in time for the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/LivingHistoryFarmsOffRoadRace">Living history farms race</a>) but I'll keep riding.</div>
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Thanks again to MG for continuing to host such fun (and odd) events. I greatly enjoyed this challenge, and look forward to reading about everyone's adventures.</div>
Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877735612105981139.post-5067094213206708492013-11-04T11:02:00.000-06:002013-11-04T11:02:09.931-06:00Coffeeneuring Rd 4: All this for a cup of coffee<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Coffee Shop #5</b></div>
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<b>Dutch Bakery</b></div>
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<b>221 Central Ave NE Orange City</b></div>
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<b>21 Miles</b></div>
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While the "Coffee Shop without Walls" has kept me in the running for this year's challenge, it does start to feel like cheating after a bit. And while I don't think I can avoid having at least half of my stops be the "without walls" sorts, I felt compelled to put in a few miles to make up for it. Entry #5 will probably be about as far afield as I go this year.</div>
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The Dutch Bakery is located about ten miles from my home in the nearby town of Orange City. To be clear, we do not grow citrus in NW Iowa, rather the orange references <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_III_of_England">William of Orange</a>, and is yet another indicator of the Dutch obsessed corner of the world that I live in. Almost none of the offerings that the Dutch Bakery cranks out have anything to do with the Netherlands, but what this bakery does have going for it is its hours. This place is open from midnight until 5 pm, meaning that I could sneak a 20 mile ride for coffee before I needed to be home by 7:30.</div>
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I was rolling a bit before 6 am, which was about a half hour later than I had wanted. There was a headwind that would be an issue on the way back, and I would be taking all gravel. While there are two paved route options, both are some of the busiest roads in my area, and I had no desire to test them in the dark. Absolutely no one expects to see a bike rider out a full hour and a half before dawn out in the middle of nowhere. So I clipped on an extra flashing taillight, slipped on a reflective vest, and hoped for the best.</div>
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We had had light rain the night previous, so the roads were nice and firm without being tacky. This is a blessing because my headlights are bit under powered, so it's hard for me to judge where the best track is on the road. The sky was clear, but no moon, and the roads were dead quiet. The stars were amazing, Sirus burned like a torch.</div>
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Riding in the dark with poor lighting is a strange experience I would find myself gasping for breath without knowing why, until I finally realized that I had started climbing a hill. The ever changing nature of the roads also kept me on my toes. In the dark, I can't tell if a smooth patch is packed hard or sandbox loose. With my 200+lb frame on 32mm tires, I find out in a hurry.</div>
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About 40 minutes later I rolled into Orange City, a town completely dark and quiet, except for my bakery.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh76aR12NjoFvpISj6e8deWuHjov5GlDj4fHb4tiiKyayE16eMbipxvmlvo2H_9W86WvmgS4SERBW0v4tidTbSGYu1BJQnYL2M4EN8Bqart0B8SDHx2XADJmqsQdV4ES54k3R5F_9XURgs/s1600/DSCN4092.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh76aR12NjoFvpISj6e8deWuHjov5GlDj4fHb4tiiKyayE16eMbipxvmlvo2H_9W86WvmgS4SERBW0v4tidTbSGYu1BJQnYL2M4EN8Bqart0B8SDHx2XADJmqsQdV4ES54k3R5F_9XURgs/s400/DSCN4092.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's hard to see, but my bike is lurking just to the left of that garbage can.<br />
Also: To people with light temperature obsessions, I'm sorry.</td></tr>
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Perhaps the owners think that as long as they have someone on the clock baking, they may as well try to sell a few rolls. Most of the day's goods were still cooling on racks in the back, so the nice guy behind the counter (looked like a linebacker with a Red Soxs grade beard) let me in back to pick straight from the rack. The other nice thing about this place are the prices. A coffee, a doughnut (for my wife) a pink smiley faced cookie (for my daughter) and a roll (for me!) cost $3. No idea how they turn a profit.<br />
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With no time to enjoy my loot, I loaded up and rolled out of town. I had been nice and warm, but now that cold wind was in my face, and I had cooled down while in the bakery. My highly specialized bike clothing (old pair of khakis, heavyweight work shirt) kept me shivering for a bit, but a few miles down the road and I was good again.</div>
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Dawn started to catch up with me a few miles from home. I know I've taken dozen of photos of the sunrise during this challenge, but I never get tired of this view.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5lz_FqOePJ22mY0NC5mcZ-S5zlgwoPdH2OqxXwk5f4gRwh24KsargPoSShPHsitrddVGdfntywT5YwWALoXINseXwQgXhEU5MALHHRWq3dNi1RkqtJtQ08ZXbUqisx8tLwVD7WGVo_q8/s1600/DSCN4097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5lz_FqOePJ22mY0NC5mcZ-S5zlgwoPdH2OqxXwk5f4gRwh24KsargPoSShPHsitrddVGdfntywT5YwWALoXINseXwQgXhEU5MALHHRWq3dNi1RkqtJtQ08ZXbUqisx8tLwVD7WGVo_q8/s400/DSCN4097.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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A few miles later and I was home with enough time to get cleaned up and open up the bike shop. Then I finally got to enjoy the coffee (still hot in my thermos) and the roll that I had hammered 20 miles on the dark gravel to get. Effort makes for good flavor.</div>
<br />Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877735612105981139.post-30751333324137215122013-11-01T09:30:00.001-06:002013-11-04T11:55:20.650-06:00Shameless Coffeeneuring Guest Post In an an apparent attempt to bury herself in guest posts, MG has put out a call for posts from all participants in her Coffeeneuring Challenge. In an attempt to make my post more interesting, I will bribe you with a small child:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5QfpC6KD2VyBlMU4Hm_s_aJctRJ5J-Ch57_O4ddohgvIuMvivC-QUKGl0RiZuNSiaBZCiCtFDDRiW4MpDddmLsLqY6hIyNuMnc1jZ7w7TO2cFHaAeJmLSv857vy65XVawOjBmTOt7vTI/s1600/DSCN4037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5QfpC6KD2VyBlMU4Hm_s_aJctRJ5J-Ch57_O4ddohgvIuMvivC-QUKGl0RiZuNSiaBZCiCtFDDRiW4MpDddmLsLqY6hIyNuMnc1jZ7w7TO2cFHaAeJmLSv857vy65XVawOjBmTOt7vTI/s320/DSCN4037.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beware, that smile hides at least six teeth.<br />
And believe you me those things are sharp.</td></tr>
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<b><br /><br />Guest Coffeeneuring Blog Post Questions<br /><br />1) Where do you live?</b><br />
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Sioux Center, IA, which is in the NW corner of the state. Not to be confused with Sioux City, IA, or Sioux Falls, SD. Some of you may know of my town as the start of RAGBRAI 2012. For any of you who were there, you played a pretty big role in getting me started in biking, so thanks!<br />
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<b>2) How did you decide to coffeeneur?</b></div>
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I find that having a goal, no matter how silly or odd, makes it way easier to get on the bike (especially now that the weather is turning cold). I'd participated in the (very chilly) Errandonee this past winter, and enjoyed reading everyone's stories. With the addition of the Coffee Shop without Walls rule, I found it possible to hit seven "shops" in my very rural area.<br />
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<b>3) What bike are you using as your coffeeneuring bike? What makes it a good coffeeneuring bike?</b><br />
I mostly ride a 1970s Schwinn World tourist, which serves as my town/errand bike. It's heavy and beat up, but it fits me pretty good (I'm 6'3", so used bikes in my size are rare). It also has Shimano's Front Freewheel System, which means that you can shift while coasting. Its a feature that is mostly good as a conversation starter, and I'm dreading having to ever repair it.</div>
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<b>4) Where did you choose to coffeeneur for this coffeeneuring trip?</b><br />
Using the Coffee Shop without Walls rule, the family and I headed out to a small park to enjoy the lovely weather. This late in the year you never know what the weather is going to throw at us, could be a blizzard or it could be beautiful so we take what we can get.<br />
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<b>5) Is the coffee shop beautiful and the coffee delicious? Tell us a little about your coffeeneuring locale.</b><br />
The park was actually quite lovely. Fall color is still hanging on, despite Iowa's perpetual wind trying to tear all the leaves off. Actual coffee shops in this area are few and far between. I am saving a coffee shop that I find quite lovely (and the espresso wonderful) for last.<br />
Sioux County is an area in transition. One one hand, farming has been really good business the last few years, and that money circulates through the local economy, leading to more urbanesque things like nice coffee shops. In opposition to that is the history of this area being intensely conservative, both politically and fiscally. Its basically an area where it's fine to be rich, just don't flaunt it (too much).</div>
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<b>6) What other types of riding do you do besides coffeeneuring?</b><br />
I cycle with my family quite often. In September my wife and I picked up a longtail. We've really enjoyed being able to strap both kids to a single bike, and still have cargo room to run errands. I get a childish level of glee seeing what I can all load onto that bike. My wife bakes for one of the local coffee shops, and I usually manage to get the shop's early morning muffins delivered by bike.</div>
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I also do some road riding (first century a month ago) a fair amount of which is on gravel roads. Even in Iowa the traffic is not your friend, but about 90% of the roads here are lightly traveled gravel. My bike of choice for that is a Sekai 10-speed that I put some 32mm Paselas on. I'm hoping to do the Almanzo 100 this spring.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCMC3OhJSUgOo-1hq0E0UHEFtcKWIdlo8ZMSKsFvbM7GCYF5Ic8K5C96mxUEiX0ShGc8HqZpx_9bXN0_auk0f9Dw7ADd8SO_TuyRgGlkbWtVUUQC3INvZo1IK-PX2_HntnSO2yilqZA4c/s1600/DSCN3202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCMC3OhJSUgOo-1hq0E0UHEFtcKWIdlo8ZMSKsFvbM7GCYF5Ic8K5C96mxUEiX0ShGc8HqZpx_9bXN0_auk0f9Dw7ADd8SO_TuyRgGlkbWtVUUQC3INvZo1IK-PX2_HntnSO2yilqZA4c/s320/DSCN3202.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I believe the correct term is "Gravel Mutt"</td></tr>
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<b>7) What else did I forget to ask you that you want to share?</b></div>
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<b>What about bike parking, accessibility, friendliness?</b> There is really very little bike parking. The only business I know of with any sort of rack is the local mall. The schools and public libraries have been good about installing racks. Honestly, you hardly need to lock your bike around here, its a pretty low crime town.<br />
Sioux Center is actually a really easy town to get around on by bike. Everything is close by, and you can route around high traffic roads without issue. We've also been putting in some separated trails that are nice for families to use. In my mind, if you don't feel safe enough sending a 10 yr old on a bike route, it's not good enough. Drivers in town are very well behaved, but I was run off the road by a semi last week while riding out in the country, which was an unpleasant first. People have noted that having RAGBRAI in town has really put bike planning on the minds of city and county officials, we've got a lot of projects in the planning stages, so I hope to see big improvements in the next few years.</div>
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Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877735612105981139.post-81840175087447108712013-10-28T10:13:00.000-06:002013-10-28T13:00:08.582-06:00Coffeeneuring Rd 3: If I were a rich man...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Despite taking last week off, I remain in the running for this years Coffeeneuring challenge. Even though last weekend I spend many miles on the bike, even while carrying a coffee mug, I failed to drink and ride at the same time.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0v6M2XqWdUUZAqJ4vont149L5l9uphvl8BuR23ylgMGp8ahDir2192FsVlaFrqvN7auNaE-ne6_7EIcPu3457I79_OqYuCvqCW7JF1bucGpFBWsKhYAjvkhC_Zwsjx1JrDbwdb_rJOLI/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0v6M2XqWdUUZAqJ4vont149L5l9uphvl8BuR23ylgMGp8ahDir2192FsVlaFrqvN7auNaE-ne6_7EIcPu3457I79_OqYuCvqCW7JF1bucGpFBWsKhYAjvkhC_Zwsjx1JrDbwdb_rJOLI/s1600/3.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See that battered thermos on the downtube? It's empty.<br />
Coffeeneuring Fail.</td></tr>
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Fall is going in a rush around here. Every morning it stays dark a bit longer, and temps stay a bit lower. Yesterday was a welcome break from the chill, we actually got into the 60s, which meant it was time for a picnic with the kids. A few sandwiches, quick scouring of the pantry for portable kid food, and we were rolling.<br />
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<b>Coffee Shop Without Walls</b><br />
<b>Entry #5</b><br />
<b>Lat: 43.070</b><br />
<b>Lon: -96.166</b><br />
<b>2.5 Miles</b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLQCIlhyphenhyphenFjxXTOkIeH3AfklbqTsQKEAEP2hQJO2gP9dTx2JwPL3XwpjVBIzc4Y9I8-zFUESBZ0AFS68MXUpnmZigox0DcAAXbBQRLyeOFBfKJNk8NIqK5gMD_rWoHCHNnVMzjJ4pfaqG0/s1600/DSCN4014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLQCIlhyphenhyphenFjxXTOkIeH3AfklbqTsQKEAEP2hQJO2gP9dTx2JwPL3XwpjVBIzc4Y9I8-zFUESBZ0AFS68MXUpnmZigox0DcAAXbBQRLyeOFBfKJNk8NIqK5gMD_rWoHCHNnVMzjJ4pfaqG0/s400/DSCN4014.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My lookout, whose sole mission is to keep both eyes on mom.</td></tr>
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Though the day had been warm, by the time we headed out around 5, the sun was racing to the horizon and the temp was falling. After riding through a local prairie restoration area, we arrived at a small park, simply known as Children's Park. (Apparently it was once known as Bear Park due to the bear kept in a cage on site. That attraction was mercifully put to an end a few decades ago, something to do with a drunk loosing a portion of his hand late one night)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ6wT0g1cyRwiVu9Ws2fdAG9x_l2L6xpH9rX1grcSm9B77nXk4NB4sfgPw7XBvTjBlMwHdFYLcrArS0p4e8dlK5hFCGg3krOzzqnNaay8o7HufmMAP_bUzVR76vLcwVauUDrpIkblF5_0/s1600/DSCN4027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ6wT0g1cyRwiVu9Ws2fdAG9x_l2L6xpH9rX1grcSm9B77nXk4NB4sfgPw7XBvTjBlMwHdFYLcrArS0p4e8dlK5hFCGg3krOzzqnNaay8o7HufmMAP_bUzVR76vLcwVauUDrpIkblF5_0/s400/DSCN4027.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My daughter, (riding in the back) does in fact have a head, she was just very<br />
intent on watching the leaves running underneath her.</td></tr>
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Since it was late, I opted out of an evening coffee for trying some yerba mate that my wife is fond of. In taste I found it a strange mixing of flavors, tasting a bit like coffee, a bit like chocolate, but also tea like. But it was hot and welcome on a cool evening.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8ef0aOka73XwpeXucNod-L-VDFF7uvUYwZAUkrM_J-kZJcEodKutv8I2ovEchlyDooEK0T_j-Wjwq6SenWmkwxfwsPQcyt9W8GAjmlOx9DZ6W5tYj3e6lFqdWRzluXg-b2KG4QWtwg0g/s1600/DSCN4028.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8ef0aOka73XwpeXucNod-L-VDFF7uvUYwZAUkrM_J-kZJcEodKutv8I2ovEchlyDooEK0T_j-Wjwq6SenWmkwxfwsPQcyt9W8GAjmlOx9DZ6W5tYj3e6lFqdWRzluXg-b2KG4QWtwg0g/s400/DSCN4028.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I can handle this. Take bag, put in hot water, wait.</td></tr>
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My wife and I managed to keep both kids held down long enough to get some food in them (both oddly fond of the smoked kippers) before the lure of the playground got the better of them.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9mda8m3HpCKOwfnHbwLdx0rWmxf-3CQBpFhvNL5OgbbS3-vey0msmrPEqXVmwGQJ24Jw9mEWeBT_ddh7ciYW78QXDpzsbgYt0o1S2BwKvhEjmeqbhgoO-u6cb9JkoYv28VzgQaBgIQsY/s1600/DSCN4044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9mda8m3HpCKOwfnHbwLdx0rWmxf-3CQBpFhvNL5OgbbS3-vey0msmrPEqXVmwGQJ24Jw9mEWeBT_ddh7ciYW78QXDpzsbgYt0o1S2BwKvhEjmeqbhgoO-u6cb9JkoYv28VzgQaBgIQsY/s400/DSCN4044.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Low-light hip shot. I'm not to be confused with<a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=Henri+Cartier-Bresson&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ei=cIBuUu-sC8e32wXGmoDIDg&ved=0CAkQ_AUoAQ&biw=1369&bih=807"> Henri Cartier-Bresson.</a><br />
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My wife and I are not rich by American standards. Our income labels us as lower-middle/working class. We keep up with the bills and manage to stash a little bit away each month. Our cars are both over 100,000 miles. Re-shingling our roof last year ran us dangerously close to the red. Our clothes are almost all second hand. The cargo bike was the first wholly "new" thing we had bought in years.<br />
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Did you know I'm a rich man? Filthy, disgustingly, nauseatingly rich. I take long rides, luxuriating in quiet roads bordered by fields bursting with record-breaking crops. I live in a beautiful little town with almost no crime, blocks away from two excellent schools, with wonderful parks within a 5 min walk, a new library a half mile away, all for a well-below average cost of living fueled by a local economy that powered right through the recent recession. I spend my free time chasing two curious, trouble making children, both healthy and growing like weeds. I've got a beautiful wife who has stuck with me for 5 wonderful (sometimes turbulent) years, a wife who loves to ride and supports me in my obsession with bikes. I'm rich because my house is filled with the sounds of her playing the violin and the squeals and peals of her young students. I am the 1%, I eat tomatoes straight off the vine, make my coffee black, drink cider pressed from my parents trees, run down paths with only the moon to light my way, see the sunrise each morning, ride like I own the road (because I do), punish my legs and lungs because I can, beat my body stronger so that I can one-arm bench press my wriggling giggling daughter and live to see my son have toddling rug rats of his own.</div>
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So when the bank account gets lean, when I cannot afford the bikes I sell, when I walk through homes with rooms larger than my whole house, when I wish for what I do not have, I remember that I am the wealthy, the spoiled, the upper crust, the rich.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPm8UI3kGVfvWWTnVKwnevKomHJq8zvTSsN0NBZR4XRPgrbk53RR-JkCu706Q1Hxtsi-NC2odIpnqWmjqRYjim7m1nZg0r3MgV1fkDq1HYVAGAAT-GjgcV7p5DaBO3MG4EdSo4YZRv7oY/s1600/DSCN4023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPm8UI3kGVfvWWTnVKwnevKomHJq8zvTSsN0NBZR4XRPgrbk53RR-JkCu706Q1Hxtsi-NC2odIpnqWmjqRYjim7m1nZg0r3MgV1fkDq1HYVAGAAT-GjgcV7p5DaBO3MG4EdSo4YZRv7oY/s640/DSCN4023.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
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Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877735612105981139.post-74076543182687352292013-10-14T14:18:00.000-06:002013-10-15T07:49:17.795-06:00Coffeneuring: Rd 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
As the days get shorter and the mornings increasingly grow frosty, the appeal of a hot cup of coffee gets stronger. So strong that an otherwise well-adjusted cyclist will voluntarily ride out long before the sun is up. I will also admit that even though I only need to do one coffee stop per week, I'm front loading this challenge. By the end (even the middle) of this challenge we could be getting snow in the Fields of Dreams, so I've no guarantee that weather will be on my side in the coming weeks.</div>
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On to coffee. </div>
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<b>#3</b></div>
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<a href="http://www.caseysbakery.com/index.cfm"><b>Casey's Bakery</b></a></div>
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<b>251 North Main Ave. #301</b></div>
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<b>2.5 Miles</b></div>
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Saturday is bike shop day. I work part time at <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Brothers-Bike-Shop/160189734003546">Brothers Bike Shop</a>, mostly as an apprentice bike wrench. As I headed out for coffee, I drug our Sun Atlas Cargo along. Recently, the Sun had been exhibiting very odd behavior in the headset. Despite all my adjusting, the steering was stiff and the fork was rattling in the headset. I finally realized that a small spacing ring had gone missing during one of the disassembly sessions that the Sun had undergone in the last weeks. Without that ring, the spacers would contact the top of the headset without hitting the bearing, meaning that I had steering that was both stiff and loose. Thinking that I would save some time by dropping the Sun off at the shop on my way out to coffee, I pulled the longtail alongside my Schwinn World Tourist. I've towed bikes this way many times before, but this did not go well at all. A 50 lb longtail with stiff steering running alongside is a recipe for a wipe out, and I had to admit defeat after only a block. Mercifully, Brothers is a short walk away.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW05UDp54vtEd-0w9gVCadlUFepFpwAWWCR4z4KnUIT_LDg2QZof75sXdwXUUdoGbcmGaqfqjolHugcof48_sCr60b64l_XZDkrJ4SMldHQ7ITixNp0XdTvbRbo6LmwIjTqWqneOhir0k/s1600/DSCN3959.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW05UDp54vtEd-0w9gVCadlUFepFpwAWWCR4z4KnUIT_LDg2QZof75sXdwXUUdoGbcmGaqfqjolHugcof48_sCr60b64l_XZDkrJ4SMldHQ7ITixNp0XdTvbRbo6LmwIjTqWqneOhir0k/s320/DSCN3959.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Left: Minivan.<br />
Right: Dedicated muffin hauler. (The Schwinn has a porter rack <br />
which I can get 2 doz large muffins on) </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Released from the burden of the family beast of burden, I was free to find some coffee. While we lack a Portland or DC grade concentration of coffee shops, the few we have become institutions for their rarity.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggtFVk_cns3HqTbfuBarK55NttuIs2Mjgx18FFF1Kdy-mXViaEdg8e-Eh6kpueK6jG7Pvunm1NnoMW8rlOX8QH0v7lOe-iWFvwBvTJt2brPw9Alu-Yi37MtsC8DOGLAu28tlG3b76Gknw/s1600/DSCN3960.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggtFVk_cns3HqTbfuBarK55NttuIs2Mjgx18FFF1Kdy-mXViaEdg8e-Eh6kpueK6jG7Pvunm1NnoMW8rlOX8QH0v7lOe-iWFvwBvTJt2brPw9Alu-Yi37MtsC8DOGLAu28tlG3b76Gknw/s320/DSCN3960.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yep, still dark.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Casey's has been tormenting my town with delicious smells since 1946. They're mostly a bakery, but they do carry coffee, and most importantly for you, they enable me to tell you about the joy of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stroopwafel">stroopwafels</a>. Unfortunately I was so filled with stroopwafel joy that I took no photo of the interior of the bakery, but gleefully fled the scene. This means that all food photos take place inside my home shop, not to be confused with the interior of a bakery.<br />
<br />
While I cannot get fresh made stroopwafels, the imported versions are the perfect coffee snack. Since a stroopwafel is basically a thin waffle with caramel inside, a little heat makes them perfectly gooey.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZE5Nvve5e5tkSHSG3RXF0KqNMJrBs-YN6XPVYsTOKSZDw2gvRSmViJH6pYepC0S6Trq08eSpCUKhnxfhw3DBrqnOFrLd1CL3cgJNrChCmPq2oP2SWEnTJS7_m_7RyhiDuqRgpSf0PLm4/s1600/DSCN3962.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZE5Nvve5e5tkSHSG3RXF0KqNMJrBs-YN6XPVYsTOKSZDw2gvRSmViJH6pYepC0S6Trq08eSpCUKhnxfhw3DBrqnOFrLd1CL3cgJNrChCmPq2oP2SWEnTJS7_m_7RyhiDuqRgpSf0PLm4/s320/DSCN3962.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Unforgettable snack. Forgettable Coffee</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6MiAPDDTJRU2ZGaU3jPfEZkmKvCNxXNb3TYD94a0_U68uN5d2zR2Mb5u1fg79j7GbKwXEby2Ejz0trcE8jaiI8ydrF9ZA5GUBA6O3MWmXn8v5AwnlpFYMUgSzokLi50oZTXZRy1Z_8to/s1600/DSCN3963.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6MiAPDDTJRU2ZGaU3jPfEZkmKvCNxXNb3TYD94a0_U68uN5d2zR2Mb5u1fg79j7GbKwXEby2Ejz0trcE8jaiI8ydrF9ZA5GUBA6O3MWmXn8v5AwnlpFYMUgSzokLi50oZTXZRy1Z_8to/s320/DSCN3963.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Take the lid off the coffee, place stroopwafel over cup. Doing it this way keeps the coffee warm, and in a few minutes you've got...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho66zaaSYZwZNNYpYY-klkQkBlj86bPSIhasmiQyJ8OhHMDObGs-e9WKw8eLx6vPvR7SqzAiBsvl4L9WXLcjbxoiqZspJZr_ji6NfIpR__DAMn1s7AILXgqzqClOWvY-HpY2DClhnAm0U/s1600/DSCN3965.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho66zaaSYZwZNNYpYY-klkQkBlj86bPSIhasmiQyJ8OhHMDObGs-e9WKw8eLx6vPvR7SqzAiBsvl4L9WXLcjbxoiqZspJZr_ji6NfIpR__DAMn1s7AILXgqzqClOWvY-HpY2DClhnAm0U/s320/DSCN3965.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
...something wonderfully gooey.<br />
<br />
Now that we've had breakfast, and it's finally getting light out, here's the shop:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNrXrj5KQMcwIFRDHDN7-hfcw5cVfL8KogwdHe8zlnE1N6WQrxyd-C7lFzeeOFMIKQRUfWxrpzWFNlzPg63EySiGhhwsm9wISxVffkayjGdiafS1Yq1Z9mJiatCklrcp0ne9DX2fvl3BA/s1600/DSCN3967.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNrXrj5KQMcwIFRDHDN7-hfcw5cVfL8KogwdHe8zlnE1N6WQrxyd-C7lFzeeOFMIKQRUfWxrpzWFNlzPg63EySiGhhwsm9wISxVffkayjGdiafS1Yq1Z9mJiatCklrcp0ne9DX2fvl3BA/s320/DSCN3967.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
It's basically a small two story garage, about 24x36.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXHOqbkDFPwLRPUP39NctHMNl7gYlR-1mqi1Kp-ZfKdEB6A4XNVfo6mVztA5RgRGmzEZv-M9D-RVkPbj_vhwW6RTCKN2P5ykrHcQaBP3SgNRzwzawxGxTC2cu6y3dhao82Pp1DH09OxbI/s1600/DSCN3969.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXHOqbkDFPwLRPUP39NctHMNl7gYlR-1mqi1Kp-ZfKdEB6A4XNVfo6mVztA5RgRGmzEZv-M9D-RVkPbj_vhwW6RTCKN2P5ykrHcQaBP3SgNRzwzawxGxTC2cu6y3dhao82Pp1DH09OxbI/s320/DSCN3969.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Saturday office.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It has all the usual fixtures, though we mostly work in bike sales/repair, not so much in the apparel department. After working in an office all week, working here is a wonderful change of pace. Here I feel the work I do is a benefit for the people who come here. Plus it's a hobby that I turned into paycheck, so it's not altogether altruistic.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxM8jKnJjm_gTgHvPJrF0WWTGrDt6CAOuIviU6DgHWpBWfAJoimkCqIBDM51s_Mms6rE-_t1w6V9UkEfnUKcJVsdP6v49WKNeZhkio4ItFlljoZROV43x_gRX5pPEsw7z5UPlIFDhErlg/s1600/DSCN3970.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxM8jKnJjm_gTgHvPJrF0WWTGrDt6CAOuIviU6DgHWpBWfAJoimkCqIBDM51s_Mms6rE-_t1w6V9UkEfnUKcJVsdP6v49WKNeZhkio4ItFlljoZROV43x_gRX5pPEsw7z5UPlIFDhErlg/s320/DSCN3970.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't know if it's possible to take a picture of a bike shop<br />
without it looking claustrophobic.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We do manage to get a ton of bikes in a pretty small space. We carry lots of hybrids, entry level road and MTBs, and some city bikes.<br />
I like to get people on everyday bikes. If you're looking for advice on <a href="http://www.shimano.com/publish/content/global_cycle/en/us/index/products/road/di2.html">Di2</a>, better go someplace else. If your looking to do RAGBRAI, run errands, just ride around, we're your shop.<br />
If you're in NW Iowa, come check us out!<br />
(Oh, and I did get that steering sorted out on the Atlas. Longtails are a bear to get on the stand though.)<br />
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</div>
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-----------------------<br />
<b>#4 Coffee Shop Without Walls</b><br />
<b>Lat: 43.08°</b><br />
<b>Lon:-96.16°</b><br />
<b>3.5 mi</b><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9wNfs21PWDsuhH8G-7BuPKWU6jNWs0NlgyjH-kp7129a5ILNdoRXO39xR2OlY3GKJ45RNRa-GD3IOQTNxUdNfRvDePhsYLfQj-_rsLUBF1bgvGG8RJ1HW8rYyqq1HVQgoDTec6UfkQ2c/s1600/DSCN3975.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9wNfs21PWDsuhH8G-7BuPKWU6jNWs0NlgyjH-kp7129a5ILNdoRXO39xR2OlY3GKJ45RNRa-GD3IOQTNxUdNfRvDePhsYLfQj-_rsLUBF1bgvGG8RJ1HW8rYyqq1HVQgoDTec6UfkQ2c/s400/DSCN3975.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whoever says Iowa is flat...<br />
is telling the truth.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I know that it's easy to knock on Iowa for its lack of hills, endless fields, and general dullness. Now I've grown up in this area, so it's easy for me to get defensive. To appreciate this part of the midwest, you need to slow down. This is a subtle country, if you're going 60 you'll never notice the small variations, you'll just want the ride to be over.<br />
<br />
I recommend waking up early, go someplace quiet with an open view. Don't talk, maybe bring something hot to drink, and just watch the world wake up. You'll find that the stars disappear in a quiet rush, that the one lone dove cooing in the dark will be drowned out by the robins and blackbirds getting up with the sun. You can hear dairy farms miles off start milking, hear the industrial park spooling up for another day.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF2Eaqt9bHN-WdEFgAznj8gJGI_7S_AYw6TeeTot2oArfuiwqPr39KbZ9dX4HzI7l4T_L1bloPV3t5oc5OylRQsvaCl4Q9lIiKh5ywzOHAjTlvVWxuYtraCsOpZ2H80hrqr14oXqG5wv0/s1600/DSCN3979.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF2Eaqt9bHN-WdEFgAznj8gJGI_7S_AYw6TeeTot2oArfuiwqPr39KbZ9dX4HzI7l4T_L1bloPV3t5oc5OylRQsvaCl4Q9lIiKh5ywzOHAjTlvVWxuYtraCsOpZ2H80hrqr14oXqG5wv0/s400/DSCN3979.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Something subtle, something hot.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I think that any place is better appreciated if you just sit down and be silent. The world is noisy enough on its own.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbQ9h25F8y2igm2p11dk9vt2AgTYoKdZODdAbfR09x9iZLs_C9sr2Wd1FGdTps2EsT7AU7HwlMg55ejnBlWXEzXO_sXuUI6fQMcWvzNz6ofy0chW39_RMt9i1HKhdUq15qNf35875OtIs/s1600/DSCN3980.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbQ9h25F8y2igm2p11dk9vt2AgTYoKdZODdAbfR09x9iZLs_C9sr2Wd1FGdTps2EsT7AU7HwlMg55ejnBlWXEzXO_sXuUI6fQMcWvzNz6ofy0chW39_RMt9i1HKhdUq15qNf35875OtIs/s400/DSCN3980.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If you get snuck up on in Iowa, it's your own fault. Halfway between that tree and the light pole are two little <br />
dots on the landscape. They're water towers, eight miles away.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877735612105981139.post-88109306169702371952013-10-07T09:56:00.000-06:002013-10-07T09:56:31.906-06:00Coffeeneuring: Rd 1!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Courtesy the inestimable MG of <a href="http://chasingmailboxes.com/">Chasing Mailboxes</a>, it is my pleasure to bring you round one of my coffee hunting exploits. The Rules can be found <a href="http://chasingmailboxes.com/2013/09/30/third-annual-chasing-mailboxes-coffeeneuring-challenge/">here</a>.</div>
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Bit of a background; I live here:</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg69wfh9NFWRR0V-qMhv6LUTAgOH9VTzs7PKST6EKk_2LexRPDHshlAbZFWsgMfp-ZbbREFOjtACoDdAHShUY2z_j7-aLLv12H9pC2oXO4C78DGFXMum6enhyphenhyphenTUlibsdTM9B11YMjvGNRg/s1600/DSCN3920.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg69wfh9NFWRR0V-qMhv6LUTAgOH9VTzs7PKST6EKk_2LexRPDHshlAbZFWsgMfp-ZbbREFOjtACoDdAHShUY2z_j7-aLLv12H9pC2oXO4C78DGFXMum6enhyphenhyphenTUlibsdTM9B11YMjvGNRg/s320/DSCN3920.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My room is just to the left of the "F."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Now, while small rural towns are wonderful to bike in since everything is close together by default, it does present a challenge when trying to find coffee shops. To be clear, there are exactly two coffee shops in town, only one of which you can order an espresso at. That's why I was really happy that MG added the "Coffee Shop without Walls" as an option this year, but we'll get to that later.<br />
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<b>Coffee Shop #1</b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/butlerscafe">Butler's Coffee and Cafe</a></b></div>
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85 W 1st St. </div>
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Sioux Center</div>
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10/5/13</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmkSVCAykfihF8AkfvdKgyq4v0q90XTac9ZOCQTiTntkzXSlH3ABEP2mTkosxR-ZXpiUjffLWxgWMVFpOWvYSrP8M9Mf2YS-KQWgmtg1AH9soFoLMJtTaWU6hL13mi5is82rM58n0VKbo/s1600/DSCN3928.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmkSVCAykfihF8AkfvdKgyq4v0q90XTac9ZOCQTiTntkzXSlH3ABEP2mTkosxR-ZXpiUjffLWxgWMVFpOWvYSrP8M9Mf2YS-KQWgmtg1AH9soFoLMJtTaWU6hL13mi5is82rM58n0VKbo/s320/DSCN3928.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One great thing, one good thing, one bleh thing.<br />Collected poems by Wislawa Szymborska, 5 sp shifter by Suntour, Mocha</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
For an opener I went to Bulter's, which is about two blocks from the elevator heading up this post. Butler's has been around for about 8 years. It was one of the first Starbucks style coffee shops in town. It's been through a number of ownership changes over the years, though the name seems to have stuck. The shop itself is clean and pleasant with a nice fireplace that'll see heavy use in a few months. The mocha I ordered was bland, not creamy, and veering more bitter than you would expect from a drink that is 90% milk, foam and chocolate. To be fair I'm biased against this shop since my wife works for the other coffee shop in town, so keep that in mind. But I got a few quiet minutes of reading Szymborska in between some errands, so I'll take it.<div>
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<div>
2.5 miles<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>"Coffee Shop" #2</b></div>
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Lat: 43.069483° Lon: -96.139549°</div>
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10/6/13</div>
3.5 Miles<br />
<br />
While I doubt the Coffee Shop without Walls rule was written just for my benefit, it sure feels like it. A Coffee Shop without Walls is simply "a place you ride your bike to proceed to make and/or drink coffee." Without this rule I'd be looking at 40 mile round trips to find seven shops. Now, I get to enjoy easy rides out to views like this:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmogSKOKRKlUyipOri3eBIUmcEaLqtdm1O-9vwDzQ9XXITavzLtu4JkGFDijZLYZgeP-o9wTzfOwlNh12rzfinpcJ0jGcBFZOtht4MoDtFnCFtm_8gTBLBzp3p_uou4NEwLQtcmIANkHI/s1600/DSCN3932.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmogSKOKRKlUyipOri3eBIUmcEaLqtdm1O-9vwDzQ9XXITavzLtu4JkGFDijZLYZgeP-o9wTzfOwlNh12rzfinpcJ0jGcBFZOtht4MoDtFnCFtm_8gTBLBzp3p_uou4NEwLQtcmIANkHI/s320/DSCN3932.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The blurriness in this photo is a pretty accurate depiction of how I see the world this early in the morning. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Early Sunday morning before it was light, before the kids and my wife were awake, I rolled a few miles out of town along the Sandy Hollow Trail. This is a nice little trail that runs out of town to a local campground. About halfway there is a picnic shelter, unremarkable except its wonderful views of a very turbulent sky. Also, that table makes low light shots easy.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv7EpCL8nY-fGYDlRFOn0g1CaCi1ZSA7EwJJmRkbGdh-9xXZxWNMxtgKu26BvJN8_bFRlGzS6ncOqEbEohUWSl6A52bYImhAuazGxRq4QdPKySqK5GVDMhoiJIqGvzC9fGftmYIMAGSTY/s1600/DSCN3934.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv7EpCL8nY-fGYDlRFOn0g1CaCi1ZSA7EwJJmRkbGdh-9xXZxWNMxtgKu26BvJN8_bFRlGzS6ncOqEbEohUWSl6A52bYImhAuazGxRq4QdPKySqK5GVDMhoiJIqGvzC9fGftmYIMAGSTY/s320/DSCN3934.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The camera makes it look pretty light out. I really could barely see what I was doing.</td></tr>
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The mug on the left is full of hot water, mug on right is a small french press, pre-loaded with beans I ground before leaving. We'll call this "Field Press" coffee. The process is a less controlled version of the French Press you all know.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwlS2YIs2J-mMC3YPM302TV9hwf81hQ9_NfQ5SneGpDTFenC7oVjXBzRnNwYQ6A3rAt2AyPUOPfM-_f_pj4CHL98tyTEeMmgbJs71a2YhOuPh0pDF625dKYnRjB0IJmyvfQzfnk9vfH7I/s1600/DSCN3935.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwlS2YIs2J-mMC3YPM302TV9hwf81hQ9_NfQ5SneGpDTFenC7oVjXBzRnNwYQ6A3rAt2AyPUOPfM-_f_pj4CHL98tyTEeMmgbJs71a2YhOuPh0pDF625dKYnRjB0IJmyvfQzfnk9vfH7I/s320/DSCN3935.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Add Water...</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOhgtbV0vOnEJrJLIw5Air9XZfhQXMtUnJiAhD6eHKUJY1vVL37tallvhthhWMY6dqUaxySbCiCCdpVfL0UNpY-vC5N6M9rdu2A4OSND0oCv_wjljN2L3IM7FDJhR-uI-8eRBkF0tGMoY/s1600/DSCN3936.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOhgtbV0vOnEJrJLIw5Air9XZfhQXMtUnJiAhD6eHKUJY1vVL37tallvhthhWMY6dqUaxySbCiCCdpVfL0UNpY-vC5N6M9rdu2A4OSND0oCv_wjljN2L3IM7FDJhR-uI-8eRBkF0tGMoY/s320/DSCN3936.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Put on lid, use filter to press grounds into water, stir/shake.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmXBZbfTlVf1zwW7NTqu5TjD31UK9fyiJyK_Io7Cki3_J3OEk4UqtuUxhTdxPh5gH6E8d2Ib-WghQLgopmBAVR3Wt9xfF3yy1kK4AvoGP-7VhQuYYMz6bhRjCj2gAWOZ7JoMZOtPIso3Q/s1600/DSCN3937.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmXBZbfTlVf1zwW7NTqu5TjD31UK9fyiJyK_Io7Cki3_J3OEk4UqtuUxhTdxPh5gH6E8d2Ib-WghQLgopmBAVR3Wt9xfF3yy1kK4AvoGP-7VhQuYYMz6bhRjCj2gAWOZ7JoMZOtPIso3Q/s320/DSCN3937.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wait about 3-4 minutes</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_xiHriEwpERooVqE8z-41pqJnj6JXrIqTr94nDoUaVYp3sDPl0A93ZAIwDteUIRySWpTLAwP9LeB3gTcdFvTI39NlI9olb1UFmmForWqIFouUhhxczYugY2EXOfpvTe4DGViuxVCMegE/s1600/DSCN3938.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_xiHriEwpERooVqE8z-41pqJnj6JXrIqTr94nDoUaVYp3sDPl0A93ZAIwDteUIRySWpTLAwP9LeB3gTcdFvTI39NlI9olb1UFmmForWqIFouUhhxczYugY2EXOfpvTe4DGViuxVCMegE/s320/DSCN3938.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoy view. Harvest is rolling along nicely.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuK7nFXtevBCk9l4f4wWRB9xFkINU4B31PopVCaure5DfD9-hRqYhkdrdLf2XMf_BExvTedECBYmWX_Q1gcGCndoyoWl8aqDLwC9H1bBvI0E1m-v_8A75bWqEJJI9wzjq872gQwiz3Jfs/s1600/DSCN3939.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuK7nFXtevBCk9l4f4wWRB9xFkINU4B31PopVCaure5DfD9-hRqYhkdrdLf2XMf_BExvTedECBYmWX_Q1gcGCndoyoWl8aqDLwC9H1bBvI0E1m-v_8A75bWqEJJI9wzjq872gQwiz3Jfs/s320/DSCN3939.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stir again, and press. Press using the just the weight of your hand/arm.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ-e9FpJhNTEohJh-oXYYMq64oc9qW9IAUaooyqJZ1i7VtcfE0SjfG9GIEqiDltFeZFJ_hyphenhyphenz5ZHl6MnzNrj6i2uMWe_JaQs7YegXmGTFox3n1VcWiG9v7u1AYUl8-hpC9EuF09rAh9kt4/s1600/DSCN3941.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ-e9FpJhNTEohJh-oXYYMq64oc9qW9IAUaooyqJZ1i7VtcfE0SjfG9GIEqiDltFeZFJ_hyphenhyphenz5ZHl6MnzNrj6i2uMWe_JaQs7YegXmGTFox3n1VcWiG9v7u1AYUl8-hpC9EuF09rAh9kt4/s320/DSCN3941.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Enjoy</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidLgfVwQD-0UIrLpiCkGhNUKHWeN5J8PkmzNnJmzrG8gAG5N47CkAxPwiAH82O5o_jOCEESUimlGjUET7Jdd15AO2I76VxyEp5y7JXaUYhuCoVIIjirnUBW7cshywlAkjT2Pt4z2PoF2Q/s1600/DSCN3942.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidLgfVwQD-0UIrLpiCkGhNUKHWeN5J8PkmzNnJmzrG8gAG5N47CkAxPwiAH82O5o_jOCEESUimlGjUET7Jdd15AO2I76VxyEp5y7JXaUYhuCoVIIjirnUBW7cshywlAkjT2Pt4z2PoF2Q/s320/DSCN3942.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drinker: Scruffy <br />Coffee: Underdeveloped, oily, not bad<br />Weather: Rainy, Windy<br />Morning: Sublime</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn4ccN-V-itSaakbEQEMtmo0IeZfMzGSwj4dhoyOyKHYLd3x2VX4M_iYhYFcQm1E3AVRoAoW6wTbdvOLc1732c7KnypuZcH4paF-0UrE5-Je-FRMbuzVT4xdFWEOOl3LcaFsxbOd6nUd8/s1600/DSCN3943.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn4ccN-V-itSaakbEQEMtmo0IeZfMzGSwj4dhoyOyKHYLd3x2VX4M_iYhYFcQm1E3AVRoAoW6wTbdvOLc1732c7KnypuZcH4paF-0UrE5-Je-FRMbuzVT4xdFWEOOl3LcaFsxbOd6nUd8/s320/DSCN3943.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clodhopper <i>def:</i> 1) A large, heavy shoe. 2) A foolish, awkward or clumsy person.</td></tr>
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Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877735612105981139.post-22145768968235138692013-10-02T15:04:00.004-06:002013-10-02T15:07:13.883-06:00The First Century<br />
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This past weekend I had the opportunity to complete a century ride with my brother. This ride has been the goal of my training this past year. I have struggled with how to write up such ride.<br />
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I have no stories of epic breakdowns-I had only the annoyance of a squeaking chain. There was no battles with traffic-I enjoyed 100 miles of bike trails in the open expanse of central Iowa. No hills-the trail was a converted railroad track. No beautiful photos-the ride started in the rain, so the camera stayed at home.<br />
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It was the culmination of over a thousand miles of training. Every road bike ride this summer had this ride in mind. After all that, I spent a day riding a beautiful, quiet loop in near-perfect weather. And now I'm not quite sure what to do. I have other projects to work for (The <a href="http://www.fitnesssports.com/November_races/LivHistFarms/lhf_index.html">Living History Farms Run</a> in Nov.), but the switch is still jarring.<br />
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The century ride went well, better than I had expected. At the end of the ride I was sore, and a bit bored of being on the bike, but I felt like I had another 50 miles left in my legs. We held a slower, 15 mph average for the ride. For about 10 miles in the later half of the route we experimented with pacelines, working up to a 18-21 mph pace. We were forced into a slower pace as it got dark.<br />
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It's only been a few days and already what I remember is getting blurry. I remember how cold and miserable the first miles were as we faced into the rain, and the relief as the trail moved into the trees and the rain tapered off. I remember dodging golf-ball sized walnuts that occasionally carpeted the trail.<br />
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There was the joy of being out on a bike that tapered down to drudgery as we reached the halfway point, in need of a break, and really, really needing something to eat. Then the vibrant rhythm of pulling for my brother, seeing if I could hold 20+ for mile long shifts.<br />
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Then the rapidly falling night, the dark tunnel through the trees giving way to small town centers. We were almost entirely alone, rare on a trail that sees hundreds of cyclists each weekend.<br />
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And then we were done, grateful to be sitting in the warm car, though jittery in our attempts to keep legs loose after an eight hour effort. I was tired, but not obliterated as I had by 50 mile rides. I expected some sort of epiphany as a rider, but I was simply tired and very hungry.<br />
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Now rested and with aches well in the past, I think what this successful ride has given me is a hunger. I will do this again. I will do it faster, on harder courses. I will not shy from foul weather, I will train in the dark, in the heat, even the snow if I can find a line.<br />
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The <a href="http://almanzo.com/">Almanzo 100</a> is May 17. It is a brutal gravel course with 6100 ft of climbing, capped off by a 8% grade climb in the final miles. I'm afraid of this ride.<br />
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But I'm going to be there.<br />
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Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877735612105981139.post-16574915387704975602013-09-12T11:29:00.002-06:002013-09-12T11:29:57.205-06:00Are you afraid of the dark?After a late August and early where I struggled to stay motivated in my training, I feel like I'm back in the groove this week. The humidity is finally starting to ease up, daytime highs are more mild, and the mornings have a lovely crispness to them that I've missed.<br />
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All these good things come at a price, and that price is shorter days. Specifically, my early morning training rides (5:30-6:30am) now take place entirely in the dark. In the heights of summer I wouldn't even bother with a taillight, now I'm running full headlight/taillight and wishing I had some reflective gear to strap on. I plan on quitting the early morning rides (switch to running) after the century ride I have scheduled Sept 28, but that leaves me two weeks where I need to be on the bike every day.<br />
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The darkness has cut my options for routes dramatically. My small town is about 3 miles long, maybe a mile wide. There are a fair number of quiet, well lit streets to pick from, but it's tough to get more than a half mile without turning or stopping.<br />
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Having a broken up route is annoying, but the bigger issue is visibility. I have a half-watt taillight and headlight from Planet bike. I find this setup perfectly sufficient while in town where my visibility is augmented by streetlights. Beyond the streetlights, I start feeling very, very vulnerable. My biggest fear is meeting a car and becoming difficult to see for overtaking traffic. I've snagged a reflective vest from the cycling section of the local hardware store, I guess it'll be an improvement, but I don't know if it'll be enough to be out riding without feeling invisible.<br />
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How about you? Any recommendations for riding in traffic in the dark?Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877735612105981139.post-71321707597670566412013-09-06T09:55:00.002-06:002013-09-06T10:01:32.591-06:00Carry the weight of the worldAs I've mentioned before, my wife and I are blessed with two small children. Our daughter E is 3 1/2, our son O is about 10 months old. When O turned 8, we judged that his head control was good enough to go into our <a href="http://www.bobikeusa.com/Bobike-Mini-BB-MINI.htm">Bobike min</a>i, which we had also used with E until she outgrew it. All was well, until my wife K tried hauling E as well.<br />
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First we tried the trailer. E found this incredibly uncomfortable, and the limited 5 speed gearing on K's Raleigh mixte made pulling the weight difficult. We bought a cheap rack mounted child seat. E loved it, but the weight was still an issue, and K reported feeling the bike frame twist under the strain. K also wanted to be able to run errands, but the combined weight of children and cargo was way beyond what K or her bike could handle.</div>
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So we researched cargo bikes. We needed a bike that could:</div>
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1. Haul multiple, growing children safely. It needed to have a low step over, low gearing, and preferably have a double kickstand.</div>
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2. Manage significant amounts of cargo (groceries mostly)</div>
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3. Fit both K and myself. She's 5'7", I'm 6'3".</div>
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4. Be affordable, it was unlikely that we could swing anything above $1000.</div>
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We tossed around every permutation we could find. First up was a <a href="http://www.workcycles.com/home-products/child-transport-bicycles/workcycles-fr8-as-family-bike">Workcycles Fr8</a> (pronounced "freight")<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.bakfiets-en-meer.nl/wp-content/uploads/2012/05/3-kid-fr8-ad-455wide.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="278" src="http://www.bakfiets-en-meer.nl/wp-content/uploads/2012/05/3-kid-fr8-ad-455wide.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, you can hold three children on that bike.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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K wanted one desperately but spending 2500 to buy and outfit that bike was out of the question.<br />
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A <a href="http://www.workcycles.com/home-products/child-transport-bicycles/workcycles-cargobike-long">bakfiets </a>was also discarded for the same reason, though we both tried every justification to make such a purchase possible.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.mydutchbike.com/wp-content/themes/mydutchbike2.3.1/images/products/bakfiets-trike/0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://www.mydutchbike.com/wp-content/themes/mydutchbike2.3.1/images/products/bakfiets-trike/0.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who thought the lovechild between a bike and a wheelbarrow could be so beautiful.</td></tr>
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Our options were starting to thin out. I thought about converting an old MTB to an <a href="http://www.xtracycle.com/cargo-bicycles/xtracycle-cargo-bicycles/xtracycle-freeradical/freeradical-x1.html">xtracycle</a>, but K discarded that due to stepover issues, and I knew it would be tough to find a stepthrough frame that would fit us both without twisting like a noodle.<br />
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The remaining option was a longtail. Both the <a href="http://yubabikes.com/bikes/mundo/">Yuba </a>and <a href="http://surlybikes.com/bikes/big_dummy">Surly </a>models have been around for a few years, both receiving rave reviews from the families that use them. Both would run well over $1500 to $2000. K and I had pretty much given up at this point, but resolved to keep saving money towards some sort of solution.</div>
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Then, while digging through the <a href="http://www.jbimporters.com/web/login.php?language=es">J&B</a> catalog searching for a folding bike for a customer, I noticed that Sun made a longtail, called the <a href="http://www.sunbicycles.com/product_detail.php?short_code=Atlas+Cargo">Atlas Cargo</a>.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD3ncWZlyqTWpPci8dh3wB_s_yPuo2m4zDH2vyeHe_24IsmVikefrVYLKt16sFZLXeM3ElVl_fwkKMI0K0ckuoonC3Q9Ab8AzRuFeUU_NPnAmK8mjdGmie2mUEPlBBYCOMJ53tJ4QwuOwR/s400/Screen+Shot+2013-03-29+at+8.09.00+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD3ncWZlyqTWpPci8dh3wB_s_yPuo2m4zDH2vyeHe_24IsmVikefrVYLKt16sFZLXeM3ElVl_fwkKMI0K0ckuoonC3Q9Ab8AzRuFeUU_NPnAmK8mjdGmie2mUEPlBBYCOMJ53tJ4QwuOwR/s320/Screen+Shot+2013-03-29+at+8.09.00+PM.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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More digging showed that this longtail was also compatible with xtracycle parts. The step over is the lowest of any longtail, and it was compatible with the Bobike mini. Most attractive was the price, somewhere in the $650s for a complete bike. We would need to get a new rear seat, a <a href="http://www.xtracycle.com/cargo-bicycles/xtracycle-cargo-accessories/kids-and-family/peapod-iii.html">Yepp</a>, but that was a cost we were expecting.<br />
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Still more digging did turn up some concerns. Various buyers noted poor quality welds, and the components were very cheap. But users also noticed that the Atlas was one of the easiest handling longtails, and it's unisex/one size design would fit both K and myself.</div>
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K and I decided to go for it, and that's when things got complicated. There were exactly two left in the country, both down in Birmingham. Nothing against Birmingham, but it's rather expensive to ship a giant bike from Alabama to Iowa. My boss at the bike shop starting making some calls, and found that <a href="http://varsitybike.com/">Varsity Bike and Transit</a> in Minneapolis had one in stock, and they were willing to hold it for me if I wanted it. In a freakish coincidence, K and I were planning on heading up to the Twin Cities that very weekend to attend the state fair.<br />
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Pick-up at the shop was a bit of a blur. Varsity is a block north of the U of Minn, and students were swarming the area and packing into the shop. After waiting in this very cool shop for a bit, one of the wrenches wheeled up with the bike. A quick spin around the block confirmed that this was a very, very smooth bike, precise in handling, if a bit (understandably) wide around the turns.<br />
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Some Tetris style packing into the minivan, and we were on our way.</div>
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Now we are in a bit of a holding pattern. We're waiting on panniers and a part for the Yepp seat. Once those parts are in place, I'll be letting you know our thoughts. </div>
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Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877735612105981139.post-70742860307650586502013-07-18T12:51:00.000-06:002013-07-18T12:51:24.172-06:00Slow is seeingEarlier today, John of <a href="http://onespeedgo.blogspot.com/2013/07/the-drama-does-not-translate-well.html">onespeedgo.blogspot.com</a> posted a few photos of storm clouds billowing over Phoenix, AZ. I'm not sure why, but they filled me with an incredible longing to ride in that place, a place so foreign from anything I've known.<br />
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If classified, I think that my various homes throughout the years would firmly place me as homebody. My parents never moved from the farm that my father and grandfather had grown up on. I went to a small college 60 miles from home, and got a job in the same town as the college, where I have lived ever since. I've never been out of Iowa or Minnesota for more than a week, never been in any other country than Canada (a few hours I spent in Tijuana does not count).<br />
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Now with two kids and steady employment for both my wife and myself, it seems unlikely that we'll move anywhere anytime soon.<br />
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I've spent much of my time this past year reading anything I could about cycling. Along with the technical reports have been multitudes of ride and trip reports to places that I'd never even thought of or knew existed. Now filled with a longing to explore these places, I find myself in a position where achieving those trips is borderline impossible.<br />
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Now that cycling has filled me with desire that I cannot satisfy, it may be strange to hear me say that it has also provided an outlet.<br />
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Last weekend I led a small group of cyclists on a gravel ride down to a local pizzeria in the microscopically small town of Carnes (3 houses, an abandoned elevator, and the pizzeria). The food was excellent, but the ride back was sublime. Pushed by a cooling tailwind, we glided back, the setting sun no longer roasting us as it had in the afternoon. We spoke calmly of many things, or rode silently as we felt the need. We moved as a loosely defined organism, no sound louder than our laughter and the swish of gravel under our tires.<br />
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We explored and experienced anew a land that has been radically altered from its original prairie state. That may be a tragedy, or it may be a manifestation of the potential of the land. We moved slow enough to experience the undulations of a subtle land, a land that does not shock, but can still surprise. It's a land where you can see a person a mile off, but be startled by a dust colored dove winging out of a ditch.<br />
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Iowa is a land transformed into a near mono culture of corn and soybeans, dotted liberally with cattle yards and hog confinements Few come here for vacation unless family calls them back. I will live here for a while, I may live a whole life and be buried here. It can be an ugly, crushing place if you try to rush though it. I may want to be elsewhere, but what I need is here. I want to move slowly enough to see its beauty, because slow is seeing.<br />
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<br />Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877735612105981139.post-64671591474233491132013-06-17T10:27:00.000-06:002013-06-17T10:27:07.106-06:00How to train for a century5:00 am and the alarm is beeping. Swat it silent. Do math on night before. Kids wake during the night? How often? How long? How much better will my day be if this next hour is spent moving or sleeping? Hit alarm again.<br />
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Shamble out of bed, dig out jersey and shorts, find socks. Cell phone in ziploc bag to keep out grit and sweat. Bagged phone in center jersey pocket. Eat half banana, few gulps of water. Fill bottle.<br />
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5:20 am. Take bike from hook in wall. Check rear tire that always seems to be a bit low. Thirty seconds with the frame pump. If rain is possible, lash jacket to rear rack.<br />
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5:25 am and I'm caged in, checking for new squeaks or clunks. First stop sign is also a check on the weather. Find the wind, turn my head into it. I ride the headwind for half my time and take whatever roads look suitable, trying to remember each by name and last known condition. I'm often wrong, and gravel often changes.<br />
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I find new hills, new combinations of paved and gravel. The unending checkerboard pattern of roads mean that any A to B has numerous variations to suit mood and weather. I grind up hills and try to hang on on the way down, hear the tires humming on paved and spraying grit on the gravel. Pick my shifts carefully, reaching for the downtube just before the loose patches.<br />
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Turn away from the wind. The sun is up and the jacket is off. Reach down and turn off tail light. Check watch, maybe add a loop if time permits. Legs are starting to burn. Return to town. Maybe chase a car, maybe sit up.<br />
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6:30. Return. 15 miles or so in for the day. Time to clean up, eat, brew coffee to share with my love, kiss the kids goodbye, and start the day for the second time.Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877735612105981139.post-88593108539801201092013-06-10T13:32:00.000-06:002013-06-10T13:32:00.189-06:00WOW in the wetI am eastbound, cycling into a quartering crosswind, attempting to draft while avoiding the rooster tails of the others in my group. We're about 35 miles into a 50 mile ride. It has been raining since mile 5.<br />
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We pass a farm where a hog confinement is being unloaded into a waiting semi. In my life I have loaded thousands of trailers with tens of thousands of hogs. I know exactly how warm and dry it is inside that building.<br />
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I'd rather be out here.<br />
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The Wellness on Wheels ride is an annual charity ride that takes a loop through the north central part of Sioux County. Generally intended as a rec ride, the two lengths (35 and 50) also serve as training ride for local riders prepping for RAGBRAI. Climbing is minimal, and the ride is fully supported with food at three stops, and SAG wagons patrolling the route.<br />
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I arrived at the start about 6:15, where about dozen riders were signing in before the 6:30 departure (an 8:00 start was also available). Typically the ride draws about a hundred riders, but the 100% chance of rain kept many away.<br />
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I saw a few familiar faces, and after filling out the (I-won't-sue-if-I-get-struck-by-lightening) waiver forms, I joined up with a group of four and rolled out. Heading west out of town, we were immediately confronted with a deep dark blue horizon that could only mean rain. Two of our group immediately announced that they had no intention of riding in the rain at all, and would turn around if (when) it began to rain. We were all dreading that first roll of thunder that would immediately end our ride.<br />
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As we approached our first turn (look for an ethanol plant) the first sprinkles began. True to their word, two of our group turned around and headed home. I suppose when one has been doing rides like these for decades, the need and desire to ride in the rain begins to fade.<br />
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The remaining two of us continued north. After riding together for a few miles through increasing rain, I jumped onto a passing group. We rolled into Rock Valley under light but steady rain. I dismounted and started heading for the cooler full of food. Then I learned that the group I was with was on the 35 mile loop, while a group just heading out was on the 50 mile route. I quickly remounted my bike and tagged onto the departing 50 mile group.<br />
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One of the reasons for wanting to do this ride was the chance to ride with experienced cyclists who would (among other things) hold me to a slower pace. All my training rides are around 16-19 mph, which I cannot sustain for more than 30 miles. I have finished every ride longer than 50 miles utterly wasted because I always start too fast. B sticking with a group, I hoped to hold a more sustainable pace.<br />
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As we exited Rock Valley, the rain increased. The group was mixed, including a cyclist who had never rode more than 40 miles before, and another who was preparing for her second cross country tour. We held to a 14-16 mph pace as we turned towards Doon, the second town on our ride. This leg was quite pleasant, spent most of it talking and getting to know the cyclists in the group.<br />
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By the time we reached Doon, we were all soaked through. We were the lead group for this route, and the person responsible for bringing food and water had not yet arrived. A few calls through ziploc bagged phones, and the food was on it's way. This part of the course actually looped out before returning to Doon, so we decided to head out and reload on food on the return trip. We hustled on out, motivated by the thought of something to eat, and our quickly chilling bodies during the brief minutes of the stop.<br />
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While riding, I actually was quite comfortable. The jacket I wore eventually became saturated and ceased to keep me from getting wet, but it still kept me from being cold, and a light pair of gloves kept my hands from going numb. The dynamics of the group helped as well. Say what you will about the people of NW Iowa (boring, too conservative, narrow minded, etc.) they're incredibly stoic when it comes to enduring bad weather. No complaints were heard. If a person decided to drop out, they said so, wished everyone else well, and headed home.<br />
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Two of our group decided to return to Rock Valley rather than continue. The remaining riders were the cross county rider, and a college prof on his first 50 mile ride. A crosswind began thrashing us with the rain, which continued to come down steady. We set up a staggered pace line trying to keep a tight group despite the wind.<br />
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Even though this leg was only a few miles, it felt like the longest of the ride. We were just over halfway, we were soaked, barely staying warm, and alone. For all we knew, we were the only riders still attempting the course. The remaining miles would be all facing a growing wind, and rain that showed no signs of lessening. The rain was pouring down at this point, and running down the road in rivers. I think the concentration required by riding in a group kept me from dwelling on the fully deteriorated conditions. By myself, I don't know what I would have done.<br />
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Then came the turn south. Somehow, knowing that we were now getting closer to home helped my mood. We continued our staggered pace line, swapping every mile or so. We remarked that passing cars had been very respectful I supposed the oddity of three riders riding nearly abreast (taillights ablaze) in the pouring rain was enough to get their attention.<br />
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Hull came up sooner than expected. We stopped long enough to pound bananas and granola bars, and I quickly texted "Hull. Wet." to my wife, before getting back on the road. The work of bucking the wind kept us warm, and I knew the distance remaining was now falling towards the single digits. The virtue of the slower pace showed as only now did my legs begin to feel tired.<br />
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Sioux Center came up almost as a surprise. We pulled into the parking lot, got a photo of our drenched selves, and headed home to a very welcome warm shower.<br />
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Total Mileage: 55<br />
Ride time: 4hrs<br />
Average speed: 14.6<br />
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<i>(I apologize for the lack of photos, but the rain meant the camera absolutely stayed at home.)</i><br />
<br />Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877735612105981139.post-40610645449275606322013-06-03T14:06:00.000-06:002013-06-03T14:06:58.423-06:00May in reviewI suppose you could call it the blogger's paradox: When you have time to write, there is little to write about, conversely when their is much to write about, there is little time to write.<div>
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In May, spring finally showed up...sorta. The early part of the month gave us below normal temps, and we received nearly ten inches of rain over Memorial Day weekend, which caused some localized flooding and residential damage.<br /><div>
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I was happy to work in significant use of bikes for my day job. My work requires taking photos of homes in the towns in this county, and using a bike seemed like a good alternative to a car. The experiment was an unequivocal success. I regret that the project is now done, and I can find no reasonable excuse to get out and ride for my work. </div>
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In spite of the weather I managed just shy of 300 miles of riding. While not amazing mileage, I feel pretty good working in those rides while balancing 1.5 jobs and a young family. Almost all of my training rides happen between 5:30 and 6:30 am, before kids are up and before I need to deliver baked goods at 7.</div>
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The cool and wet spring has made a maintaining a consistent riding schedule tough. "No such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing" turns into a lie when lighting gets involved, especially in an exposed landscape like NW Iowa.</div>
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A big change in my training this year has been the inclusion of gravel roads. In my area around 80% of the roads are gravel, so adding them has radically increased the potential routes. By their nature, the gravel roads are less traveled, so I get to have the roads almost completely to myself. The catch is the ever changing nature of the roads. Weather, maintenance, and use can alter the road conditions overnight</div>
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I've found the increased difficulty of these roads has made me more confident in my bike handling and stronger while climbing. Initially I felt that my 1980's steel lugged bike would be a poor choice for gravel, but it easily fits 32mm tires. Unfortunately the 27" wheels do limit my tire options to sizes 32mm and narrower. I am very interested in trying tires 35mm and larger, and hopefully a 700c size bike is in my not too distant future. When the roads are in poor condition, especially when soft, the narrow tires do make handling difficult. That said, when I can find a good track, my pace approaches that of riding on a tar road. A side note: downtube shifters are not a good idea for a gravel bike, they make downshifting when managing bad road conditions way more trouble than necessary.</div>
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The first test is coming up this weekend, a 50 mile loop on paved roads with pretty minor climbing. This spring I have been unable to get in a ride longer than 30 miles, so I'm actually rather nervous. The biggest concern is the weather, I'm not much of a match against some of the headwinds that this region can cook up.</div>
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In regards to the bike shop, things could not be going better. Once the weather began to warm up business picked up dramatically. I should clarify, business picked up once people had a chance to take their first ride and realize they wanted something better to ride. I continue to be amazed how easy it is to sell someone a bike. My wife and I operate on a very strict budget, so I'm baffled that customers walk in, take a bike for a ride, and walk out with a new bike in under 15 min. Maybe I over think things, but I could never make a decision on a bike that easy, nor drop that kind of money without seemingly a second thought. I promise I'm not trying to shove them out the door, but people come in with their minds made up, and if they're happy and riding, I'm happy.</div>
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Repairs have tapered off a bit, mostly just assembling new bikes and fixing many, many flats. This weekend I passed a wrenching milestone when I tire I was inflating exploded. My boss was standing a few feet away with his back to the tire. I'm quite certain I removed a few years from his life. Sorry boss.</div>
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-Clodhopper</div>
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Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877735612105981139.post-40504171482430145572013-04-26T13:36:00.001-06:002013-04-26T13:36:19.001-06:00Biking at WorkAs I mentionioned, I spent Thursday on my bike, taking photos of houses as part of my job. This was to be an experiment in the effeciancy of a bike versus a car.<br />
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I'm pleased to report that the experiment was a resounding success. Using the bike allowed my more maneuverability in some of the odd corners of town, and I covered about the same distance that I would have by car.<br />
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One fear I had was how suitable my office clothing would be for a day in the saddle. I did need to maintain the same level of dress as I would on any other day. Many bloggers(<a href="http://letsgorideabike.com/">LGRAB </a>most notably) have written extensively on biking in ordinary clothes for women. For guys, you really only need to be careful that none of your pants seams run in unfortunate areas. My only modification was to wear padded shorts under the khakis that I usually wear. My "photo bike" also has a pretty padded seat, so spending a full day in the saddle never became painful. (However, I will admit that I'm glad today is a rest day off the bike because my legs are shot.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqiz78dVEDvXyq3BthhkOTRslN1h3gXjyQ7lH_SxI0iETX5l8sc3uJWjxexm63coF5qPY4zB970bwIXyn8OPxDS9m-RMbbupaK4djUeD8qBR_EaADb2r2STsYtMo0rFRfZnLUIWuhO4C8/s1600/DSC08165.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqiz78dVEDvXyq3BthhkOTRslN1h3gXjyQ7lH_SxI0iETX5l8sc3uJWjxexm63coF5qPY4zB970bwIXyn8OPxDS9m-RMbbupaK4djUeD8qBR_EaADb2r2STsYtMo0rFRfZnLUIWuhO4C8/s320/DSC08165.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Unlike Lovely Bicycle's speedy lightweight <a href="http://lovelybike.blogspot.nl/2013/04/ceci-nest-pas-un-rando-bike.html">Rawland</a>, my photo bike is a Schwinn Suburban, one of the heaviest bikes known to man. After adding the solid steel front rack, it became the heaviest. Mercifully, the hills in my corner of Iowa are pretty short in both height and duration.</div>
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In any event, my setup worked pretty good. The upright seating made being in the saddle all day comfortable, it was also easy to ride one handed and manage the camera. I strapped a clipboard with the maps onto the porteur rack, which made things very easy to see. The board did want to rattle, but some foam tubes from the new bikes at the LBS zip tied to the racks silenced that annoyance nicely. Spare batteries for the camera were carried in the small saddlebag that usually holds tire levers and multi-tools. My camera is pretty lightweight, so I carried in slung over my shoulder messenger bag style.</div>
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The big concern with this experiment was productivity compared to a car. I estimate I took photos of about 350-400 homes, which is right about what I would have done in a car. The increased maneuverability coupled with ease of shooting from any angle (as opposed to out the window of a car) more than made up for time lost due to slower speed. In addition, being out in the open kept me more alert throughout the day, both in regards to my job, and to traffic and pedestrians around me. Instead of feeling lazy and lethargic as usual after a day in the car, I felt the comfortable, alert tired of a good long day of work.</div>
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Over the last year, I've undergone a revelation concerning bikes. I'm beginning to understand that they are a blank canvas that can be melded to a dizzying array of tasks if we're just willing to use some imagination and dare to try something a bit different. </div>
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Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877735612105981139.post-86414668314682943462013-04-24T09:38:00.001-06:002013-04-24T09:39:13.934-06:00Biking For WorkFor many people, using a bike to get to work is a normal part of their daily experiance. Some commute by bike out of prefernce, others from neccesity. Much as I would love to get to my job by bike, I simply cannot find a way to make it work. However, I may have found a way to use my bike AT work.<br />
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I work as a real estate appraiser, and part of my job involves driving around the various towns in the county, following up on new construction, and maintaining an up to date photo file on each property. Generally I do this by car. That works pretty well, but not without some problems.<br />
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One is that I've had multiple problems with the car cooling systems, the stop and go nature of my work means that the car I use is always running very hot. The second problem is that I taking a photo of a house on the passenger side of the vehicle is awkward, so I have to route my work through the city to always be on my left so I can take photos through the driver's side window. Getting out of the car is simple, but too time consuming. Safety is also an issue along the main highway. Certain sections have no on street parking, making<br />
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With my boss' approval (remarkably easy) I've decided to use my bike for an upcoming photo update project. Here is a section of one of the towns, with stops I need to make marked by black dots. The lines on this map denote property boundaries, large open spaces are mostly crop fields.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuLKO2cp9KoU0S8vxK1uLiKHVBzbfb3YMSOUd_Q6YyL4CWSZFUzC7VTdregs8YPq3FkvTnYGd785T8qdfrFGVS1KkZEwiK9mR5pWtL4ECmFN2liDiA3fha6ob6udKfZvZUIZ88wFleIkg/s1600/SC+grab.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuLKO2cp9KoU0S8vxK1uLiKHVBzbfb3YMSOUd_Q6YyL4CWSZFUzC7VTdregs8YPq3FkvTnYGd785T8qdfrFGVS1KkZEwiK9mR5pWtL4ECmFN2liDiA3fha6ob6udKfZvZUIZ88wFleIkg/s400/SC+grab.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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As you can see, I need to stop at more than half the homes. In a car, this would mean a day of continuous stop and go trapped in my car. By bike, my hope is that I can move just as quickly through the town, while saving fuel expense and wear and tear on a vehicle. Since I won't be claiming mileage, I cost my employer less, and get some exercise while I'm at it. </div>
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The chief problem is transporting the things I need on the bike. I navigate by using aerial photos of the towns, like this:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0fYlmkRB4h0zSgjpSf9K2no-VSNEMe4228eUUdvnWrmtjUCxxcT0l-f-oJ0zc46RwsTCcDsWaCmqWLwciU0o_qKWAT3xuzHoNoVGGwoCt1pmK9lpM6RGZ6wz449H7aNLBnBU342-2aIw/s1600/DSC07775.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0fYlmkRB4h0zSgjpSf9K2no-VSNEMe4228eUUdvnWrmtjUCxxcT0l-f-oJ0zc46RwsTCcDsWaCmqWLwciU0o_qKWAT3xuzHoNoVGGwoCt1pmK9lpM6RGZ6wz449H7aNLBnBU342-2aIw/s1600/DSC07775.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I believe that by strapping a clipboard to the <a href="http://fourquartets.blogspot.com/2013/02/build-it-yourself-cheapskate-porteur.html">porteur rack</a>, I can keep the maps neat and where I can see them at all times. Given that this town will require about 800 stops, I need to have my routes right where I can easily see them. I'll wear the camera by the strap, and extra batteries will go in the saddlebag. In theory, this should all work. </div>
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Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18289009784609315495noreply@blogger.com0