What I did on my vacation
01/23/2004
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In case you haven't noticed - and, judging by your e-mails, you haven't - I've been on hiatus from the pages of Bullz-Eye for a while. I would love to tell you that I've been occupied with some life-changing adventure in a far-off land, or that I've been locked in seclusion finally writing that Great American Novel. I'm afraid the truth is much less sexy. Frankly, I've been hanging out and just doing stuff.
Before you jump all over me and call me a lazy bastard, let me explain. It's not that I've been doing absolutely nothing. On the contrary, I've been up to the usual chicanery and mayhem. It's just that I haven't been coordinating or cataloging my life for a while, instead taking the time to just drift in the current. Sometimes your view of the world can be greatly enhanced by sitting still and letting the scenery around you change, like God's (or Buddha's or Allah's or whichever deity you choose) own digital cable.
As I reintroduce myself back into the wild, a fair bit of reflection is necessary. In all this time spent "just doing stuff," I've learned some things and I've seen some things and I've done some things. While not all of these things are worthy of mention, I'd like to share a little bit of my sabbatical with you, to tell you about some of the more memorable things I've encountered. Besides, I feel like I owe my readers a summary of my absence, just like those "what I did on my summer vacation" reports from grade school. I hated them back then, but the format makes great column-fodder later in life!
Here are some of my most memorable accomplishments from the past several months. Take them at face value, because none of them were choreographed with the intent of writing about them. Just postcards from my mind, really:
I picked up a new sport. Now, I'm not going to tell you that I invented the sport of "bangling", because I didn't. But I will stake claim to being one of very, very few people to have participated in the first year or so of the sport's existence. Bangling is a hybrid sport, combining two of our favorite pastimes: mountain biking and fishing (biking, angling, bangling - get it?).
Although currently in its infancy, I'm predicting that bangling will be the next big thing. It's easy to do, inexpensive, and can almost always be done very close to home. I've even bangled in the middle of a large city.
Look for an in-depth bangling trip report in coming months. The major drawback to bangling in the north is waiting for the snow to melt.
I learned the most manly of all art forms. I finally did it... I learned to make beer. While some people appreciate a beautiful painting or well-written sonnet, I hold a fresh home-brewed beer in highest esteem. I felt it was high time that I learn exactly what goes into a good beer, and what I had to do to create a masterpiece of my own.
Truth is, making beer is incredibly easy. Good beer only has four ingredients: water, some form of malted barley, hops and yeast. If you can make soup, you can make beer. My first foray into beer making took about three hours total, and three weeks later resulted in one of the finest India Pale Ales I've ever had.
Home brewing also makes good column-fodder, so I'll be giving you a look into what it takes to brew your own in an upcoming column.
I tortured myself for charity. Every year, the "Escape to the Lake" bike ride is held to raise money to fight Multiple Sclerosis. And every year I get talked into riding in it, even though I'm a mountain biker with very little road experience and an aversion to big mileage (like the 150 it takes to complete this ride.)
Nearly 2,000 cyclists started out in a cold, pouring rain this year to begin the trek from Pittsburgh to the shores of Lake Erie in Ohio. Almost immediately, decisions had to be made: jacket (possibly overheating later) or jersey (hypothermia now)? Ride hard to stay warm or ride slow to conserve energy? I suspect many people chose the ultimate cop-out, not riding at all. I chose the jersey-only option, ensuring that I would have purple skin for the next several hours.
The first part of the ride was miserable if uneventful, but then things took a turn for the worse. Many miles into the ride, approaching the hill country of western Pennsylvania, the peleton (a French word for a whole shitload of bikes) came to a narrow descent lined with course marshals waving red flags. Focused on the upcoming technical descent and surrounded by bikes on all sides, none of us heard the marshals screaming for us to slow down. The thought of making this 50-mph trip down a wet hill on tires as wide as your index finger required total concentration.
At the bottom of the descent, we saw the reason for caution. Riders were littered across the street and into the front yard of a farmhouse. Mangled bikes were everywhere, and there was no shortage of blood on the pavement. An ambulance was arriving, so we continued our ride under the black cloud of what we had just seen. Word of the crash spread quickly through the peleton, and we were soon informed that one of the riders had been killed. Already shaken from the weather and the crash, many riders found it difficult to press on. But press on we did, as there was nothing we could do about the tragedy and no place to stop until the finish line.
The second half of the ride brought a reprieve from our misery, however. The clouds broke, bringing a radiantly sunny day with a light breeze - perfect for riding. Word also spread that the downed rider had been revived on the spot by EMTs, and would survive. Spirits rose and so did the pace, and we zipped into Conneaut-On-The-Lake, Ohio as a blur of spokes and spandex. Crossing the finish line, it was almost possible to forget that we had just completed 150 miles of difficult terrain on a bicycle. Of course, the reminder would come on Monday.
I upgraded my wheels. Looking back a few columns, I was touting the virtues of my humble motorcycle, a basic "standard"-class bike with nice all-around features and friendly demeanor. Well, screw that. After a year of sensibility, I realized that just wasn't me.
So I eBayed the old bike and brought home my current ride, a shiny CBR1000. It's a rolling missile with 135hp and a top speed up around 170. Gone are the days of cruising the backroads in search of scenery; I prefer to terrorize the motoring public with much sound and fury.
Future gear purchases will be made in a similar manner, as I intend to exit this world the exact same way I came in: screaming and covered with blood. (That's a joke, for any overly-sensitive halfwits who managed to get through all the big words and make it this far.)
In conclusion, I haven't really been loafing. I've just been out digging up material. So check this space often, and look for plenty of good reads and fun times. It's great to be back!
Send any questions or comments to
mpost@bullz-eye.com.