tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19025783418044134492024-03-06T00:32:04.124-05:00The Reluctant Cyclist ®For those of us normal folk who really like cycling but need a little motivation to get started. jacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.comBlogger56125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1902578341804413449.post-4348359215992543712019-08-26T16:49:00.002-04:002019-08-26T17:23:49.376-04:00When You Realize It Was All Worth It<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/AVvXsEhTHNT9GqB3FJJdQA01SpnSYBTvT60eCsXtIuBv41wqwfoti8QJw07NVc7WtoDcYOYjfd9rt2VBLRtUT7riqtM5Wk2vbUmd_W55-qhPYiUnu_Lu9_kbzO6zgMX_QqJRXK8WT_mlqHWxDZhW/s1600/IMG_3745.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1203" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTHNT9GqB3FJJdQA01SpnSYBTvT60eCsXtIuBv41wqwfoti8QJw07NVc7WtoDcYOYjfd9rt2VBLRtUT7riqtM5Wk2vbUmd_W55-qhPYiUnu_Lu9_kbzO6zgMX_QqJRXK8WT_mlqHWxDZhW/s640/IMG_3745.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Reluctant Cyclist, Stealth, Sailor, Pedal Pal, Velo Junkie</td></tr>
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It was a glorious, mid-August morning. The temperature hovered in the 70’s and the sun was on the rise while Velo and I waited for our compadres at Humble Monk Brewing in Northside. It seemed like a good place to start and end since I hadn’t been there before. To make it easy to follow along as the tale unwinds, here’s the route of brewery stops with approximate miles:<br />
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<ul>
<li>3 Points Urban Brewery, 331 E 13th St, Cincinnati, OH 45202 - 4.8 mi</li>
<li>Braxton Labs, 95 Riviera Dr, Bellevue, KY 41073 - 2.5 mi</li>
<li>Darkness Brewing, 224 Fairfield Ave, Bellevue, KY 41073 - 0.5 mi</li>
<li>Taft's Brewpourium, 4831 Spring Grove Ave #1, Cincinnati, OH 45232 - 7.7 mi</li>
<li>Urban Artifact, 1660 Blue Rock St, Cincinnati, OH 45223 - 1.8 mi</li>
<li>Humble Monk Brewing Co., 1641 Blue Rock St, Cincinnati, OH 45223 - 200 ft</li>
</ul>
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We were a small assemblage of urban riders on a purposeful trek. The Reluctant Cyclist (me), Velo Junkie (hubbie), Pedal Pal, Sailor, and Stealth (silent but deadly) were on a mission to find and avidly enjoy the perfect summer pint. We left the parking lot at Humble Monk about 10:30 a.m. with Velo pulling the chain.<br />
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It was my birthday ride. For those who know Velo and I, you know he plans some extravagant, ball-buster ride for his birthday in February. Something about riding the same number of miles as your age and stopping at a few breweries for relief. But this was my birthday, the summer skies were promising a 95 degree day, and I wasn’t going to play by such grievous rules. I had a much less tortuous route in store for those who wanted to share my day. How about half the miles and twice the breweries? Since the goal was to find the best malted energy drinks in the city, I called it my Birthday Bike Beer Binge and it was all about fun (and beer). We went from brewery (A) to brewery (B) as straight as the crow flies and didn’t try to loop in an extra 10 miles just to make sure we paid our dues.<br />
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The first stop was <b>3 Points Urban Brewery</b> in Pendleton. The bartender thought our adventure was really cool and was glad we chose 3 Points to start. Now, here is where I fail as a journalist - I didn’t write down what everyone had to drink. I only kept a list of my beers, but mighty fine beers they were. My first perfect pint of the day was Cuddle, a brilliantly tart and lightly fruited sour that was a pleasure for the taste buds. Kind of coral in color, it was just as pleasing to the eyes.<br />
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As chance would have it, 3 Points is a hop and a skip from Stealth’s front door but, unaware of the route, he met us at the start and then, of course, had to ride back to his city block. “We love your company Stealth, so glad you could join us!” To the contrary, Sailor does not live in Cincinnati and he couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of a restaurant that serves whiskey and biscuits. Boomtown is one block down from 3 Points and definitely on the next group ride.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr6aaqM8Mn0WM7_3_FLifRf4fBQy8mDlNoJVzW-mvX6KNM2gy8TqJR75afZaQKkxr4hhtMFhLWZT20mUQFNTC-VvfX9k1PzEZBiyFoqDk_G50KuyaFwGRkQEQ2MKfZtSNB6UUu-rwHw0w7/s1600/IMG_3747.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1203" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr6aaqM8Mn0WM7_3_FLifRf4fBQy8mDlNoJVzW-mvX6KNM2gy8TqJR75afZaQKkxr4hhtMFhLWZT20mUQFNTC-VvfX9k1PzEZBiyFoqDk_G50KuyaFwGRkQEQ2MKfZtSNB6UUu-rwHw0w7/s320/IMG_3747.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Stop #2 took us across the river to <b>Braxton Labs</b> in Newport, KY. It is always fun to ride across the bridges from Cincinnati to Northern Kentucky, so we rode the Purple People Bridge south toward Newport. Single file is required to avoid the crowds and Stealth continued to bring up the rear with Velo in the lead. Braxton Labs in in the back of The Party Source and a brewery we frequent regularly. They make a Sweet Potato Casserole beer that is to die for, but not available until almost Thanksgiving, so I settled for one of my favorite beers of this summer season, SummerTrip - a tart Berliner Weisse with a hint of passion fruit on the finish. Perfect for this sweltering summer day on a bike. The five of us were sharing a couple of big bags of chips, courtesy of Sailor, when Pedal got a call that he needed to head home for another celebration. We said good-bye to Pedal and now we were a group of four merry peddlers.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_F6mBzeSiVsSNA83iS32r4F-T3NYdJasnMRw6GatObTp2vOCYHG2vXsqgbBiKvE5YoBXfgxFCgDruOhyphenhyphendZP0vTQJCADXHdzWpj6lpJFnS2Az3Vj50790qDuz8G_uTQRp15pVfeQVTdwYc/s1600/fullsizeoutput_a8d.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="990" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_F6mBzeSiVsSNA83iS32r4F-T3NYdJasnMRw6GatObTp2vOCYHG2vXsqgbBiKvE5YoBXfgxFCgDruOhyphenhyphendZP0vTQJCADXHdzWpj6lpJFnS2Az3Vj50790qDuz8G_uTQRp15pVfeQVTdwYc/s400/fullsizeoutput_a8d.jpeg" width="247" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUus1E-RCCi5FZGKX8eb97dnQInuQK8YXZ62PQgkS-ENfVjNjHl1drT3aZG_fYkfC8XcczXgl6QDHWfOh_bhzjOFRdp3uzNGfSvtG0yMvfpIJurn9uTEUwbu5vPvcT66gsEMgl9fMyP7aJ/s1600/IMG_3756.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUus1E-RCCi5FZGKX8eb97dnQInuQK8YXZ62PQgkS-ENfVjNjHl1drT3aZG_fYkfC8XcczXgl6QDHWfOh_bhzjOFRdp3uzNGfSvtG0yMvfpIJurn9uTEUwbu5vPvcT66gsEMgl9fMyP7aJ/s320/IMG_3756.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijhvQjFVncV9gZ0_hf_fjXerXjgIhJ2UqZnq0kDDVW3_KdIIEvG54_BxOSlqjmF-h3DmjBv3aS2Wx2QeYp97RnB1nXcW29FE2wIEkS5TnayWyFbCiHgdJa_pVbcTfWuOolGFBqQzigZAvD/s1600/IMG_3753.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijhvQjFVncV9gZ0_hf_fjXerXjgIhJ2UqZnq0kDDVW3_KdIIEvG54_BxOSlqjmF-h3DmjBv3aS2Wx2QeYp97RnB1nXcW29FE2wIEkS5TnayWyFbCiHgdJa_pVbcTfWuOolGFBqQzigZAvD/s200/IMG_3753.JPG" width="200" /></a>About a half a mile down the road was <b>Darkness Brewing</b> in Bellevue, KY, of which none of us had visited yet. We had heard great things and, due to the close proximity, couldn’t miss the opportunity to try it out. I had another awesome beer, ChristoThor the Blonde. It was the lighter beer for a brewery specializing in dark beers, but hey, Sailor imbibed in the Man on the Moo, a dark milk stout. I will be back to enjoy my own pint of Man on the Moo when the temps drop about 20 degrees, but today I was seeking fizzy-tart beers (is that a thing?).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixtM8XQqDfOflInr3pjCHD-i50htX9lMW6BjLLpkB_evNHNNLg4AwS4HyiXYSdb3I1Qi2MmBz26IkUQwk6uCZqtQpmwfLNV5M8uBLog_ZP19RmlDdelsHvppkauZqTuFqubaMupw-FsprA/s1600/IMG_3765.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixtM8XQqDfOflInr3pjCHD-i50htX9lMW6BjLLpkB_evNHNNLg4AwS4HyiXYSdb3I1Qi2MmBz26IkUQwk6uCZqtQpmwfLNV5M8uBLog_ZP19RmlDdelsHvppkauZqTuFqubaMupw-FsprA/s400/IMG_3765.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9JofXwacOTo2JCYFJEq-e3HiGQ52DHKN2ftlnbfmeo6pmN5_XAc2mXZvdOVFyrd-vSNcIbtlofaAJDN4GlLbtBkwWSmzo5z01k_JtBheHNdPb3P62SJqHwMStZZoUxKy1PBfRmCRhkHRR/s1600/IMG_3764.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1203" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9JofXwacOTo2JCYFJEq-e3HiGQ52DHKN2ftlnbfmeo6pmN5_XAc2mXZvdOVFyrd-vSNcIbtlofaAJDN4GlLbtBkwWSmzo5z01k_JtBheHNdPb3P62SJqHwMStZZoUxKy1PBfRmCRhkHRR/s200/IMG_3764.JPG" width="150" /></a>Next on the route was Taft’s Brewporium, a large taproom out on Spring Grove Ave. This is a great destination because A) Spring Grove Ave. has bike lanes traversing almost the whole way and B) Taft’s has great beer. And on Sunday they have great food to go with beer. I believe our eyes were bigger than our bellies when we ordered the large brunch pizza with ham & more along with a side of garlic knots. My beer of choice at Taft’s was Salute Your Schwarz, a traditional Schwarzbier, and a mighty fine one, too. An appetizing dark color with the perfect hint of coffee, the ideal mate for brunch. Before pulling out of the parking lot we had to rig up some sort of bungie contraption to secure the leftover pizza to the rack on Stealth’s bike. It was too good to leave behind!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwlexEx5-yeax7AqCcXQlGzwou6Cqx6Nef8Lk3A7xEdT07JI3D822i5fIUt5hkbXEAnJQr-CH_lsi-6oAN6frrCKG-kkDlsUE4SFaJgmypxlEmqlkFgYmTM6ztwWMHRDv-jG7FctTktWhC/s1600/IMG_3759.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwlexEx5-yeax7AqCcXQlGzwou6Cqx6Nef8Lk3A7xEdT07JI3D822i5fIUt5hkbXEAnJQr-CH_lsi-6oAN6frrCKG-kkDlsUE4SFaJgmypxlEmqlkFgYmTM6ztwWMHRDv-jG7FctTktWhC/s400/IMG_3759.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxoMZ7sEjc__n-aq7NoSY4PZg_x2HIcR-cljJMb4J37ftvZj3p6EtnIgZrGGmUI1Qhh0KXt1F6h4uIIEVWq4-ZgnP8xIb9NAV71ef82xprgMo7qFjFEQdiY-yU2fYJYbd0FvHipsd_fU9H/s1600/IMG_3769.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1203" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxoMZ7sEjc__n-aq7NoSY4PZg_x2HIcR-cljJMb4J37ftvZj3p6EtnIgZrGGmUI1Qhh0KXt1F6h4uIIEVWq4-ZgnP8xIb9NAV71ef82xprgMo7qFjFEQdiY-yU2fYJYbd0FvHipsd_fU9H/s320/IMG_3769.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Stop #5 - <b>Urban Artifact</b> in Northside. This brewery has always been on my list of places to try, so I decided I would try it on my birthday. They specialize in sours, of which I have become a fan of late. The brewery is in the basement of an old church and eloquently provides sufficient bike parking. The selection of beers did not disappoint and I opted for a beauty called Photo Shoot, a sour gose fruited with grapefruit. Spectacularly refreshing, especially since the sun was high in the sky and the mercury had peaked.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYrGNDCflWUnM_DuW5eTaImlAwh_aJNLrkHg37vwdx0C2zcuMVMA4Xb-PDB_ZlTVlsi7pArZri-Hv5QX-7ZAKt-glCIja_sv2EF-VlbhiTdAGhN9q0FTsRiNffU_7lB3fRrsTZNi60OmcN/s1600/IMG_3776.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYrGNDCflWUnM_DuW5eTaImlAwh_aJNLrkHg37vwdx0C2zcuMVMA4Xb-PDB_ZlTVlsi7pArZri-Hv5QX-7ZAKt-glCIja_sv2EF-VlbhiTdAGhN9q0FTsRiNffU_7lB3fRrsTZNi60OmcN/s320/IMG_3776.JPG" width="320" /></a>Finally, we headed back to where the day began for our final malted beverage. It had been a fantastic day with good friends and I wanted the final stop to be new and memorable. Humble Monk Brewing did not disappoint. Lately some of the breweries have been experimenting with hard seltzers and Humble Monk offered a Pomegranate seltzer called Halo. It sounded spectacularly thirst quenching and dangerous at the same time. I will undoubtedly be back for this treat.<br />
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Sometimes it takes something as simple as a beer and a bike ride to bring friends and families together; to get us out into our community and discover our surroundings; and to realize it’s all been worth it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhAQkSWOBgJ-hIJMVM4QLLcEfQllcmopgWwNE8ClHMxtt3_IGXuLUwUQAShPh1qi0i1zf4xf3-JS8cW7MyS2B7kSVTCc7iys-pFcpjGxD0bcWmam5iuyUs4LTfmaEj1v3wVmR-MCbucqt6/s1600/IMG_3781.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhAQkSWOBgJ-hIJMVM4QLLcEfQllcmopgWwNE8ClHMxtt3_IGXuLUwUQAShPh1qi0i1zf4xf3-JS8cW7MyS2B7kSVTCc7iys-pFcpjGxD0bcWmam5iuyUs4LTfmaEj1v3wVmR-MCbucqt6/s640/IMG_3781.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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jacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1902578341804413449.post-66741668517706774722019-08-15T01:32:00.001-04:002019-08-15T01:32:29.787-04:00In Pursuit of Significance<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Hi friends. For those who know The Reluctant Cyclist, I am back! If you are a new friend, welcome to my world of cycling, camaraderie, cohorts, life, and comedy. I am writing this blog as more of a reintroduction than anything because I have been absent of late, in pursuit of significance. Rewind to the summer of 2017, when I had decided to embark on a graduate degree in conservation biology and advanced inquiry. Not the typical program you would expect to find a lifelong professional of manufacturing and asset management, but I like to think of myself as an avid learner & adventurer, and this program fit the bill.</span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-878a5c0f-7fff-19ed-ceeb-0055bdcbb7d4" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiz6Y9DeNrqJOzFNICWRqiEnIyPQHwbBnPiuMK4ZrpQ9d3BieAShdkcVHPij4aah75XikeSBrIU7qa5tygF0tpAXTzBK84QsYpXgQHVStWzDix0C4Y41nAZ5mQBGqt5a-BvKJ_ZMhiWpGb/s1600/IMG_3417.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiz6Y9DeNrqJOzFNICWRqiEnIyPQHwbBnPiuMK4ZrpQ9d3BieAShdkcVHPij4aah75XikeSBrIU7qa5tygF0tpAXTzBK84QsYpXgQHVStWzDix0C4Y41nAZ5mQBGqt5a-BvKJ_ZMhiWpGb/s320/IMG_3417.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">While you may think I have abandoned cycling by the lack of published rides and commentary, to the contrary, cycling holds a much deeper meaning to me now. Allow me to explain my connection between car-lessness, urban biodiversity, conservation biology, and significance through some excerpts from my graduate research.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsguUl1idpNIFS2yz19ftMWbCPwSBL892XnRKy5MtsVyu397w72jCGSKdgw62SlhssoxjbGoeMPe0_nl065XHip5VCm7mVYKY4mn4yPUezapaHrV6l_6uPrkFJF3qnp5J_nhRQGgQ50vyJ/s1600/IMG_3449.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsguUl1idpNIFS2yz19ftMWbCPwSBL892XnRKy5MtsVyu397w72jCGSKdgw62SlhssoxjbGoeMPe0_nl065XHip5VCm7mVYKY4mn4yPUezapaHrV6l_6uPrkFJF3qnp5J_nhRQGgQ50vyJ/s320/IMG_3449.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">This life change project to reduce my CO2 emissions brought me to the realization that it is very difficult to use alternate modes of transportation in an urban neighborhood, and specifically, in Cincinnati. Even so, I reduced my emissions by carpooling, combining trips, and simply by planning my trips. As a result of a change in my behavior, I conclude it is possible for a person to lower their CO2 emissions. However, to effectively reduce pollution in South Fairmount, more residents of the neighborhood and surrounding areas would have to be willing to plan smarter use of their vehicles. </span><br />
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<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">However, current infrastructure of the neighborhood makes car ownership very desirable due to the hardships I experienced when cycling or using public transportation. </span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The proliferation of car-centric geographies continue even though the practice is unsustainable (Sattlegger & Rau, 2016). Throughout the 20th century the growth of car ownership and use outpaced other sources of CO2 emissions and currently vehicular mobility is a fundamental requirement in developed countries, one that will be very difficult to turn around (Sattlegger & Rau, 2016).</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I confronted the relationship between epigenetic inheritance and environmental justice</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">One of the environmental burdens placed on urban residents is the exposure to greenhouse gasses emitted by the transportation sector. My neighborhood is no exception as it is located between the suburbs of Cincinnati and the downtown and uptown business core with interstates on two sides and the railyard on the eastern boundary.</span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Society tends to address a new science with old ideas. To that end, there is the risk that treating the symptoms, such as behavioral issues, obesity, or diabetes with clinical solutions may garner more support than addressing the xenobiotic exposure cause (Rothstein, Harrell, & Marchant, 2017). Acknowledging epigenetic inheritance and transgenerational traits based on one’s environment opens the door to new ways to address human evolution and adaptation (Wang, Liu, & Sun, 2017)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I planted an urban pollinator garden </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; white-space: pre-wrap;">and provided nesting spots for solitary, native bees.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3i-kphrhCWKpn2alaKRCm9prtgf5kGT_mVdUEZMMKTcrB8K2e7sYKPdQwvDsWnP9F4dugHtlf02p66NstxtIeuZTYkWon5YT4pHlLE-7Zvb12O__UBHJDNbT0kAquFw_pfJYtciln8-a5/s1600/IMG_3413.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3i-kphrhCWKpn2alaKRCm9prtgf5kGT_mVdUEZMMKTcrB8K2e7sYKPdQwvDsWnP9F4dugHtlf02p66NstxtIeuZTYkWon5YT4pHlLE-7Zvb12O__UBHJDNbT0kAquFw_pfJYtciln8-a5/s320/IMG_3413.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pollination is an ecoservice. Flowers are planted in an effort to restore the populations of pollinators, which, in turn, restore the pollination service to plants. This is important because almost 90% of plants, including agricultural crops, reproduce via pollination by animals (Winfree, 2010). It has become increasingly urgent that we find ways to supplement the natural habitat of pollinators as those spaces become scarcer and detached.</span><br />
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This is crucial in the current political environment of the United States as leaders gut regulations that were put into place to preserve pollinators and to protect us from exposure to hazardous materials. (Reread the part about epigenetics). We cannot rely solely on scientists to restore pollinator populations. Individuals can plant and manage pollinator gardens, nesting sites, and woodlands for foraging to encourage growth. Even small gardens in urban neighborhoods can improve pollination services.</span></div>
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<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Check back for more entries as I continue my immersion studies of the role of people on this planet and the interconnectedness of species.</span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /><br /></b><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">References</span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rothstein, M.A., Harrell, H.L., Marchant, G.E., (2017). Transgenerational epigenetics and environmental justice. Environmental Epigenetics, 1-12</span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sattlegger, L., & Rau, H. (2016). Carlessness in a car‐centric world: A reconstructive approach to qualitative mobility biographies research. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Journal of Transport Geography, 53</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, 22–31.</span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wang, Y., Liu, H., & Sun, z., (2017). Lamark rises from his grave: parental environment-induced epigenetic inheritance in model organisms and humans. Biological Reviews, 92(4), 2084-2111.</span></div>
<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />jacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1902578341804413449.post-74193581286376940552018-08-26T17:01:00.000-04:002018-08-26T18:24:32.086-04:00Flutter by: A Late Summer Ride<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNFUDm3rf1Ff2kig1nFAyA0pkNXcmkc5qyaTDvsFdzwxdK5FH8dlINBmMncnUuPsU4xSJ9c5AvBvrihqwgeH3HvgG4IwCkbJe3OyYxPK6AVj1JJA4HrwacNAzvQUxXO8rBkSiQdcW7iAQe/s1600/IMG_1092.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNFUDm3rf1Ff2kig1nFAyA0pkNXcmkc5qyaTDvsFdzwxdK5FH8dlINBmMncnUuPsU4xSJ9c5AvBvrihqwgeH3HvgG4IwCkbJe3OyYxPK6AVj1JJA4HrwacNAzvQUxXO8rBkSiQdcW7iAQe/s640/IMG_1092.HEIC" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">August seems to be the month that only the die-hard cyclists can still be found around town. At least it seems that way here in the midwest. The summer is coming to a close, schools are back in session, and the temperature can still be raising the mercury by mid-day. </span></span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-89ecebae-7fff-2a23-e827-0d1b1ea749d7" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Velo Junkie and I had a vacation to Key West planned for mid-August, a spontaneous reservation made after a night at our favorite neighborhood brewery. Due to circumstances beyond our control (sort of) we decided going out of town was not the best decision, so we canceled the trip, but not the time off from work. You see, I had adopted two pups that needed rescue - both under a year old, and both over 65 pounds. The two of us also had work obligations that required multiple overnights on both sides of the scheduled get-away, so a late summer staycation it was for Velo Junkie and the Reluctant Cyclist. This did not discourage, nor disappoint, as we had plenty of adventures to keep us busy close to home. One of those was our annual bike ride on the Cardinal Greenway Trail to Scotty’s Brew Pub in Muncie, Indiana.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The Cardinal Greenway Trail is a Rails-to-Trails path that starts in Richmond, IN and travels north, past Muncie. Scotty’s Brew Pub is a friendly place in the college town of Muncie that has many beers on tap, including their own brand, Three Wise Men. Velo Junkie and I have been making the trek annually for about six years now. The beer is always worth it, but the Shewman, a large burger topped with cheddar, jalapenos, and peanut butter, is the perfect sandwich to satisfy the appetite after a warm, thirty to forty mile ride through the agricultural heartland of the Hoosier state.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">This year we opted for a sixty mile ride starting at the Williamsburg trailhead. The late summer morning was cool and dewey, the kind that fogs up your glasses and makes your skin feel clammy in your kit. The canopy was still lush, although the shortened days had caused the trees to start shedding leaves. The sun was low in the morning sky behind us, casting long shadows in front of our handlebars as we cantered off on our northwest expedition. The shade of the trees faded fast as the sun quickly rose high above the agricultural fields of Indiana, rich with feed corn nearly ready for harvest. As we rolled along the trail we were greeted by the hues of many butterflies feeding off the nectar of the purple and fuchsia bull thistle (Cirsium vulgare), including many orange and black Monarchs (Danaus plexippus) stopping to refuel during the migration to their winter home in Mexico. Scurrying chipmunks crossed our path while readying their burrows for the coming seasons, and finches flew low around us, darting from flower to flower for the precious, ripe seeds that August brings.</span></span></div>
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jacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1902578341804413449.post-40633482627029911762017-04-12T19:01:00.001-04:002017-04-12T23:56:43.748-04:00Bikes OnBoard<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Only two stops between home and Union Station put us at the Amtrak station well ahead of the scheduled departure of the Southwest Chief. We were traveling with our vintage bicycles, a 1973 Schwinn Paramount and a 1983 Mercian Strada Speciale, headed to Paso Robles for the annual Eroica California festival and ride.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Dilemma #1 - The bikes on the roof of the Subaru would not clear the garage.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Dilemma solved - Jacquie would wait on the curb while Jim would park the car.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Dilemma #2 - Jacquie standing on the curb in Chicago wearing a t-shirt, windbreaker and sandals with two bikes, a suitcase, a backpack, a shopping bag, and a large purse in 20 mph winds at 40 degrees.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">This dilemma was not remedied until Jim made it back to me so we could proceed into the station. Shivering uncontrollably at this point, a security guard directing taxis observed our conundrum of bags and bikes and generously offered to roll the bikes to the baggage counter with us. We checked our large suitcases because Amtrak requires you hold onto a bike until it is handed off to the porter at the baggage coach.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">After several trips up and down elevators at different ends of the station, a Metra associate kindly walked us to the correct elevator to get to the food court. That's two friendlies so far. In true Chicago fashion we had dogs and fries.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Next we went to the gate that our train was supposed to leave from. <i>This is where you have to forget everything you learned about traveling on a plane.</i> A woman from Amtrak was herding all of us railroad neophytes into a single file line to move to the Great Hall. She was distracted so just told everyone to follow Jim and I because we thought we knew where we were supposed to go. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Made it to the Great Hall. Now what. We were instructed to have a seat and wait until we were all called at once to move to the train.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">While waiting we met another passenger, Tom, traveling with his bike. He had mistakenly chained his bike to a lamp post so he could leave it for a few minutes. In those few minutes his cable was cut and the drug sniffing dog was brought out. Whew.Glad that wasn't us. We almost tried it.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Thirty minutes prior to departure an attendant, who was as round and she was tall, came to the Great Hall and announced that all for the Southwest Chief should follow her. She put Jim and I in the front of the line because we had to hand the bikes off. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Here's where Jim speaks when he shouldn't. There was a young man at the front whom Jim cordially asked "how are you today?" The young passenger proceeded to display peculiar behavior. After a long, drawn out deduction of phosphoric acid, lower intestines, leaching of nutrients, and vomit inducing levels of sugar it was concluded that Jim's Diet Coke was equivalent to bottled heroin.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">I was unequivocally jubilant we were seated nowhere near this young passenger on the train. We were, however, assigned seats next to the other cyclist we had met in the station. Sweet!</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Shortly after leaving Chicago an attendant came through the coaches to take dinner reservations. We picked the last time slot of 7:30. Lo and behold we were seated to dinner with another bike nerd. (After this trip Jim will never want to travel any other way.) Galen owned Paramounts and a Voyageur. He was on his way to Albuquerque to purchase a truck to bring home two more Paramounts, </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Campy this and Shimano that; 27 or 700?; Orange, yellow, or blue?; P13; no, P15; who made the wheels?; is Mercian British? For two hours the conversation revolved around steel. Who would have guessed, of all the passengers, we would have been seated with another bike nut?</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Upon arriving in Los Angeles we again faced a dilemma of getting the bikes up the stairs to the rental car garage. No problem. We were old pros at this by now. Jacquie waited on the curb while Jim retrieved the car. The 70 degrees in LA was a little bit easier to tolerate.</span></div>
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jacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1902578341804413449.post-71479715412762047262016-11-03T23:00:00.002-04:002016-11-04T10:13:43.035-04:00Ohio to Erie – Day 5 of Riding, Columbus to Cedarville<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I could have stayed in our deluxe suite a few more hours had we not needed to leave the Hampton Inn early to beat all the teenage concert goers to breakfast.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Through pouring rain, we picked up the Olentangy River Trail across the street from the hotel. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Let me start by saying the twisted web of trails in and around Columbus were more than a little confusing. The Olantangy Trail meanders through Ohio State University campus. It runs on both sides of the street and, through the driving rain and heavy traffic, we had a little problem finding the right place to cross the street to continue on the trail. The campus was relatively deserted on this wet July day so we couldn’t even find a wandering resource to ask directions. Thus started our day of u-turns, course corrections, and urban adventures. </div>
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About 5 soggy miles later we jumped over to the Scioto Trail. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha4jlhecx3wW_fvjHrc2tELrFwMiEwWxmy60nxmvYGjjcDvUdSYiha6Ujk-ifSEGNW7YqrY-TnAO-PG-4QSYrXJMBxJoHbZwgATgYPHehRA9cRTquSaH_S6D437jBanvYqWs2ZZxd1GSOS/s1600/day5+stopped+for+directions.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha4jlhecx3wW_fvjHrc2tELrFwMiEwWxmy60nxmvYGjjcDvUdSYiha6Ujk-ifSEGNW7YqrY-TnAO-PG-4QSYrXJMBxJoHbZwgATgYPHehRA9cRTquSaH_S6D437jBanvYqWs2ZZxd1GSOS/s400/day5+stopped+for+directions.jpg" width="400" /></a>What should have been a short 4-mile ride to the Hilltop Connector ended up being about 7 miles after we made two wrong turns and doubled back each time. We finally cried uncle and went into a corner convenient store for guidance. By this time, we were soaked to the bone and the clerk was not happy with the two unfortunate puddles we left on the floor. Despite the copious amount of drippage, the clerk was helpful.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Two miles of short jaunts and numerous turns through a residential area dumped us out onto W. Broad St., aka US40, aka a heavily travelled highway running through the middle of Columbus, the Capitol of Ohio. What do you know?! We missed our turn again, doubled back once more and got off of the busy highway onto Norton Rd. <o:p></o:p></div>
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</a>3.5 more miles of residential roads led us into Galloway where we picked up the Camp Chase Trail. The rain had finally let up and we even saw a glimmer of sunlight here and there. The sun helped bring optimism to our route finding and navigation.</div>
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</a>Camp Chase was three straight miles of corn fields, RR tankers and tractor crossing signs until we turned into <a href="http://www.metroparks.net/parks-and-trails/battelle-darby-creek/">Battelle Darby Creek Metro Park</a> for a 2-mile ride through the park. The trail was a little confusing in the park because the signs were tucked away in the trees and the gravel trail started at the head of the parking lot. It took us few minutes to find the trail, and with each passing moment we were </div>
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both getting hungrier and hungrier. We did see a grocery store sign over the hill. Our decision to go out of the way in search of nourishment was in vein. The gaping windows, vacant of any glass, ridiculed our suffering. The rural country side was a welcome change from the congestion of Broad Street. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ilbDhvTb8kLzdYo8v6v98Z9Mev7glEDcYY1ZcowaxUgVPhI6cC2L3vcijfAPgrLZIGpL3ZJOpJyHM-kkKjXQuLUR9DJHip3qgXjFvL3Sjqp76h59N3FJi0NVlw_bJcHyGUh2qfhlh0Id/s1600/day5+otoe+batelle+darby+park.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="435" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ilbDhvTb8kLzdYo8v6v98Z9Mev7glEDcYY1ZcowaxUgVPhI6cC2L3vcijfAPgrLZIGpL3ZJOpJyHM-kkKjXQuLUR9DJHip3qgXjFvL3Sjqp76h59N3FJi0NVlw_bJcHyGUh2qfhlh0Id/s640/day5+otoe+batelle+darby+park.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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Back on the Camp Chase Trail for another 5.5 mils of corn and RR tankers.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEhvpRzBS6QprCIBysvL4wwnCQdVWMZC9Jvq8ZCMuaMJGdYMAtlNJcxDQ8bjoxvhLmsdmBrRyFx9TB1YD7AwQuQpeu_j4IRh-xmzx40OqpUIGF0NRtmYNiqOwyw5UE21Xr8AxBfKQ3rZ9z/s1600/day5+tractor+crossing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEhvpRzBS6QprCIBysvL4wwnCQdVWMZC9Jvq8ZCMuaMJGdYMAtlNJcxDQ8bjoxvhLmsdmBrRyFx9TB1YD7AwQuQpeu_j4IRh-xmzx40OqpUIGF0NRtmYNiqOwyw5UE21Xr8AxBfKQ3rZ9z/s400/day5+tractor+crossing.jpg" width="400" /></a><o:p></o:p></div>
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By this time, we were ravenous and there was nowhere to eat in sight. We settled for Cliff Bars on the steps of the church in Lilly Chapel. That is about all there is in Lilly Chapel – a church and a four-way stop.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Camp Chase becomes the Roberts Pass Trail after it crosses Wilson Rd. in Lilly Chapel. Roberts Pass runs about seven miles into London, OH.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It was past lunchtime and we met Pedal Pal and Roomie in London for a bite to eat. We chose a little pizza joint called <a href="https://www.yelp.com/biz/ronettis-pizza-london">Ronettie’s</a> because there was another loaded bicycle setting by the front door. It did not disappoint. The hoagies were delicious.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Dale “Peace” Walker was the owner of the lone bike. He was a loner himself and had been travelling around the country on two wheels for the better part of a year. He came over to chat with us for a few minutes, wished us peace, and then asked if we could buy his lunch.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Velo and I parted ways with Pedal and Roomie. This was their destination for the night. They were staying at a motel/trailer park called <a href="https://www.bing.com/mapspreview?&ty=18&q=Cordle%20Motel%20London%20OH&ss=ypid.YN873x16966617396853399361&ppois=39.8629417419434_-83.5175170898438_Cordle%20Motel_YN873x16966617396853399361~&cp=39.862942~-83.517517&v=2&sV=1">The Cordle Motel</a>. If you go they accept cash or check only.</div>
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On the other side of London Velo and I picked up the Prairie Grass Trail for a 22-mile straight shot to Cedarville and the <a href="http://www.hearthstoneinn.com/">Hearthstone Inn</a> for a total of 58 miles. The only excitement we had on the this stretch was the family of wild turkeys we came across. Velo was unaware that I as trying to slow down and film them and barreled right on through causing the little family to take off in all directions. <i>See the short video at 50% speed</i>. <o:p></o:p></div>
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After checking into the hotel and rolling the bikes into the room we rested for a bit, then showered and got ready for a night on the town. Unfortunately, the town rolls up its sidewalks about 8:00 p.m. The info pamphlet in the room listed some quaint eateries. A small place called <a href="http://www.beans-n-cream.com/">Beans and Cream</a> peaked our interest because ice cream sounded delectable…and, we got there just as they closed the kitchen. We settled for the diner across from the hotel, <a href="https://www.bing.com/mapspreview?&ty=18&q=Main%20Street%20Station%20Cedarville%20OH&ss=ypid.YN692x12085531&ppois=39.7393188476563_-83.8060531616211_Main%20Street%20Station_YN692x12085531~&cp=39.739319~-83.806053&v=2&sV=1">The Main Street Station</a>. The staff was friendly, the food was good, but the flies. I wasn’t sure if I was eating dinner, or if I was dinner! All flies aside, we were glad to get a good meal before our last day on the trail.</div>
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While enjoying the evening breeze on one of the many patio chairs surrounding the Hearthstone Inn we posted a picture of our digs on Facebook. Within 15 minutes Roomie commented that they had a nice two room suite at the Cordle Inn but their host hadn’t come by to collect the fees yet because he was at the dentist tending to a toothache. Unfortunately, the only TV in the place was a <b>nine-inch screen</b> located in one of the bedrooms. At least it was a color TV.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Before we the evening set in we decided to walk the mile to a convenient store across the street from Cedarville University. School was not in session so the campus was quiet in the July heat. We returned to retire for the night and watch the final night of the Democratic National Convention.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />jacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1902578341804413449.post-36759112083685215262016-10-17T23:51:00.000-04:002016-10-18T00:01:12.842-04:00Ohio to Erie Day 4 of Riding – Mt. Vernon to Columbus (Small Towns and Big Cities)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOjxXcjAwX864THTx9QvnbuuxqKwMjl0apCeZdc_eeXa4aojk9jOpWikQpMCe1dki2UxMlW-6-WWBoxeAqnwFLnNQBZ6F7sIm6KeXogAa3G7BWg3_FcADqBvyeWy0Z2zCErqWpgjnY40YS/s1600/day4+bike+route.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOjxXcjAwX864THTx9QvnbuuxqKwMjl0apCeZdc_eeXa4aojk9jOpWikQpMCe1dki2UxMlW-6-WWBoxeAqnwFLnNQBZ6F7sIm6KeXogAa3G7BWg3_FcADqBvyeWy0Z2zCErqWpgjnY40YS/s400/day4+bike+route.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">Up early again to get a good head start on the day. Today was a nearly 60-mile day. It was, however, almost all bike trail. To give you some perspective, we had a total of 665 ft. of elevation over the entire course.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This was my favorite breakfast of the week, though. I just love the warm cinnamon rolls at Holiday Inn Express. We departed Holiday Inn smarter than we were a day ago for a 2-mile coast down a 2 to 3 % grade into Mt. Vernon.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6EAgtQla4PEqS_enk6UyV-sLeLANfh-OzNFrCw2pEY0RYYcU7XkWt0P2BHdIk8fYwC0JcR7qqACpHqbsORUAjgBFL3a5y4djXGPl_1L9eGBsMP1Vp9hNNPGLxvk2PudFretdapvgtuTJ_/s1600/day4+leaving+mt+vernon.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6EAgtQla4PEqS_enk6UyV-sLeLANfh-OzNFrCw2pEY0RYYcU7XkWt0P2BHdIk8fYwC0JcR7qqACpHqbsORUAjgBFL3a5y4djXGPl_1L9eGBsMP1Vp9hNNPGLxvk2PudFretdapvgtuTJ_/s320/day4+leaving+mt+vernon.JPG" width="320" /></a>We met up with Pedal Pal and Roomie at the Comfort Inn. Roomie came out first. We waited a while for Pedal. When Pedal arrived, Roomie decided he wanted to go back in to get his Muscle Milk. We were all finally together and crossrd the bridge for day of some downhill, for a change.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">The Heart of Ohio Trail runs the distance from Mt. Vernon to Centerburg and starts just outside the Comfort Inn when Pedal and Roomie had spent the night.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The next 14 miles were a slight uphill grade finally peaking just before Centerburg.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQvlqW753r05UZ-EC3UiOgA5VYxXoXelB2Is2ien6MRbKept9A1KP_TXpFEAffr3ABMT166vloAFKPac-fHDf6K0LuJ9tFlbro-CKemWBAdCHuB4jbyyYggl9pq_XGnPadaPosj-UnxN3H/s1600/day4+sunbury+donut.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQvlqW753r05UZ-EC3UiOgA5VYxXoXelB2Is2ien6MRbKept9A1KP_TXpFEAffr3ABMT166vloAFKPac-fHDf6K0LuJ9tFlbro-CKemWBAdCHuB4jbyyYggl9pq_XGnPadaPosj-UnxN3H/s400/day4+sunbury+donut.jpg" width="400" /></a>About halfway through the day, about 31 miles into the ride, we all developed a hankering for some fresh, small-town doughnuts and a glass of cold chocolate milk. We found just the spot in Sunbury. The Hoover Scenic Trail circles the reservoir in Sunbury before crossing the pedestrian bridge to the Genoa Trail.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">A mile past the doughnut shop was Big Walnut High School, a virtual incubator for female volley ball players, according to Pedal Pal. Pedal has a difficult time leaving his coaching job for vacation so every time we are anywhere near a high school it’s fair game for recruiting.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhElSSqw-hJaWToFDy8ZgOqzJjkVK8OZDsuEnPlT1Wl3FiGYDlMQqxl9Xo7Irzu92thReXHogkpabYAv0UVLW9xpw4Rf3Zy0dqBAhflTtefP5w81az0ludpLTxkuEcXcHNIpHrRLIptH6cu/s1600/Day4+more+cyclist+centerburg.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="174" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhElSSqw-hJaWToFDy8ZgOqzJjkVK8OZDsuEnPlT1Wl3FiGYDlMQqxl9Xo7Irzu92thReXHogkpabYAv0UVLW9xpw4Rf3Zy0dqBAhflTtefP5w81az0ludpLTxkuEcXcHNIpHrRLIptH6cu/s320/Day4+more+cyclist+centerburg.JPG" width="320" /></a>While Pedal was inside wheelin’ and dealin’ Roomie, Velo and I just hung around outside longing for some air conditioning. The day was turning into a scorcher.</div><o:p></o:p><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_9AdeS2ZUkZ-7PjMmfFiH30tz1DhYRnshpr1sn9UeAENgPECd8n2D6jvCeQ2LMIiOBQ3YzLekkXzziSoNcn4Z7Ti9iVGJZu9vfXLYlkQR4ZF8FuGamqYn-UlTQQ29aE2FplAaEn5zVoi1/s1600/Day4+heading+onto+genoa+trail.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_9AdeS2ZUkZ-7PjMmfFiH30tz1DhYRnshpr1sn9UeAENgPECd8n2D6jvCeQ2LMIiOBQ3YzLekkXzziSoNcn4Z7Ti9iVGJZu9vfXLYlkQR4ZF8FuGamqYn-UlTQQ29aE2FplAaEn5zVoi1/s320/Day4+heading+onto+genoa+trail.JPG" width="320" /></a>Another 2.5 miles and we found the town of Galena and the Hoover Scenic Trail. Off the trail for about half a mile and we picked up the Genoa Trail.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Pedal and Roomie left us at Westerville. Roomie needed a small repair to his bike so they stopped at the LBS. Rumor has it that Pedal’s bike was molested by someone at the store causing a bloody elbow and some chipped paint. We continued on the Westerville Trail, taking a short pause at the Westerville Depot.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4s2efWI9Uiae4OR0Qk7EMdNK2kladbYxsAdVNcWXDPWnTKVAI8SsmQyXaC0Qt9hb8FTYAUW2-b1OVVih4EVHUX5gq7UEPUTnV9v3eERlfpoP5Llm9ggTd7ninvX6zONH804fDKO2kRIBM/s1600/Day4+street+cleaner+on+Shrock+Rd.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4s2efWI9Uiae4OR0Qk7EMdNK2kladbYxsAdVNcWXDPWnTKVAI8SsmQyXaC0Qt9hb8FTYAUW2-b1OVVih4EVHUX5gq7UEPUTnV9v3eERlfpoP5Llm9ggTd7ninvX6zONH804fDKO2kRIBM/s400/Day4+street+cleaner+on+Shrock+Rd.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">After leaving the comfort of trail life we turned west onto Schrock Road. This was not a scenic road, nor was it a fun road. Heavily trafficked by fast moving vehicles, the bike lane was a reprieve, until…the street cleaner was operating in it. What city operated the street cleaner in the afternoon on a busy five-lane highway? Of course it was blocking us just as we came to an uphill grade forcing us to merge with traffic. We were stuck on this hindrance of a road for a bout 5 miles.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEn9YDU8QBlzlBp5-_cnfKl4sXKPiMxZH2tC_vQ1n5MWodyTP_m2yGvBNSNZQQZo1vDbExhWia_a-WstHeu1igf609f0QRpSlN3sylz9MTIIUK9mn37R4TzX84CVaPwrnJdTZ1_hHESQSl/s1600/Day4+budweiser+brewhouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEn9YDU8QBlzlBp5-_cnfKl4sXKPiMxZH2tC_vQ1n5MWodyTP_m2yGvBNSNZQQZo1vDbExhWia_a-WstHeu1igf609f0QRpSlN3sylz9MTIIUK9mn37R4TzX84CVaPwrnJdTZ1_hHESQSl/s320/Day4+budweiser+brewhouse.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">We passed the big Budweiser factory and turned south again on Proprietors Rd. The road was so short we missed a turn onto North Road. Nothing a quick u-turn couldn’t fix.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">After crossing High St. we found the Olentangy trail, again made a wrong turn, righted ourselves and followed the Olentangy trail all the way to the hotel.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">That sounds easy, but it was far from it. The roadways in and around the university are hectic to say the least. Add a soccer tournament and a Nick Jonas/Demi Lovato concert to the mix and you have pure insanity.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Velo and I were on our own for 16 more miles to the Ohio State University in Columbus.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">We were so thankful to get to our hotel. The thought of checking in, drying off, and relaxing a little before dinner was encouraging. No go. Sixty miles in 90 degrees terminating in heavy rain and the hotel was sold out. We would have to wait in the lobby until our room was ready. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSUVrurdRTtm65g_GLWTzPr9lTmw7MvtnElDSKnZ2I5lCIDgJ85mGIVXrW5AYjGZ86ZASnuqtS9wI4iWNAvSstspoPoNou5-t3p50P1szOTQq-uh5dx3XagGfiRQWsGoP7l5cndumNRZjP/s1600/day4+rain+out+thewindow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSUVrurdRTtm65g_GLWTzPr9lTmw7MvtnElDSKnZ2I5lCIDgJ85mGIVXrW5AYjGZ86ZASnuqtS9wI4iWNAvSstspoPoNou5-t3p50P1szOTQq-uh5dx3XagGfiRQWsGoP7l5cndumNRZjP/s320/day4+rain+out+thewindow.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal">It was worth the wait. Velo surprised me with a deluxe suite for the middle of the week. After a peaceful shower and short rest we walked across the parking lot to El Vaquera for a Mexican dinner. Pre-teen girls in town for the concert had descended on the restaurant with a vengeance. We were tired anyway so two margaritas and a burrito and I was ready to call it a day. I think I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. ZZ<span style="font-size: large;">z</span>zzz<span style="font-size: x-small;">zzzz</span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">zzz</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div><br />
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<input name="uri" type="hidden" value="blogspot/PKtjx" /><input name="loc" type="hidden" value="en_US" /><input type="submit" value="Subscribe" /></form>jacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1902578341804413449.post-82814619205566190672016-10-16T23:32:00.001-04:002016-10-16T23:40:35.401-04:00Vampire Bait<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We have been suffering terribly from lack of riding, both VeloJunkie and I. Today was supposed to be another day sacrificed to working on the old house. We waited and waited but the delivery truck was a no-show. Finally, at about 3:00 p.m. we decided to take advantage of Home Depot’s mishap, the beautiful weather, and the duration of sunlight we still had in October, and go for a ride.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We hadn’t eaten lunch yet so we determined our destination by our cravings. Eli’s barbecue it was. We resolved we would pick up Eli’s on the way to Bad Tom’s Taproom and have a couple of choice brews with our smoked meat.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We should have recognized the inklings of disorder all along our route and throughout the day. First, of course, was the miscommunication about the delivery. Then there was a strong wind out of the south and temperatures were higher than normal for an autumn day in the middle of October. Drivers were impatient, even other cyclists didn’t return a friendly wave or nod in passing. Soon I realized I had left my phone at the old house so I was travelling completely disconnected.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Eli’s, usually the busiest place in town, had only a handful of patrons under the big outdoor tent and no one dining inside. We ordered our food and waited outside. It was presented to us in two large, carry-out trays instead of the individual containers they used to put orders in. Baked beans and cole slaw travel much better in sealed bowls than separated trays. We finally figured out how to secure the food on Velo’s bike and pedaled very slowly to Bad Tom’s, me trailing Velo to make sure the food didn’t slip or spill. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We ordered our beer, a Bad Tom Brown Ale for me and an American Outlaw Pale Ale for Velo, and took a seat at the table nearest the turntable. A woman comparable in age to us was spinning vinyl on the old RCA and singing along with the 70’s music. <b>Three Dog Night</b>, then <b>CSN</b>, a little bit of <b>Led Zeppelin</b>, then some <b>Eagles</b>. We talked to her a little about star signs, zodiacs, and album covers, lamenting the fact that nobody cared about the art on the cover anymore. Remember the cover of “Desperado” or “Black Sabbath”?<o:p></o:p></div>
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We opened the containers that we so precariously transported only to find them void of utensils. The sandwiches were easy but we had to reach back deep into our medieval ancestry to figure out how to eat the beans and slaw.<o:p></o:p></div>
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After two beers each we decided it was time to go. Daylight doesn’t last very long this time of year and our route home passes through some less desirable parts of the city.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Velo just couldn’t leave the area without stopping at his favorite taproom, Blank Slate, for just one more. By the time we left for home the sun was low in the west and we had about 13 miles to put behind us. I was pedaling pretty hard when we came to a stoplight. I looked at Velo and warned him that something had to give…I was going to either burp or vomit if I had to climb one more hill with a belly full of beer and barbecue.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We made it to Riverside drive free and clear, still moving fast but no elevation for a while. Much to our surprise we were soon facing an onslaught of costumed motorcyclists. There must have been 200 or more roaring down the street in their Halloween best. It was a sight to behold and I so wished I would have brought my camera. Chances are their images would not have shown up in pictures anyway.<o:p></o:p></div>
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All the time the sun was waning faster than we were riding.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We got into the industrial part of the ride just as dusk was bearing down. This part of town is pretty desolate on a Saturday, and by the time evening rolls around there is not a living soul around. I was stopped at an intersection, underneath the flickering of a streetlight, when Velo rolled up next to me. Looking over at him in the strobe of the lamp I couldn’t help but think that we must be in some sort of underworld. I laughed and said “Hello Vampire Bait”. Velo didn’t laugh. "Vampire Bait?" He looked at me quizzically. I said "Well yeah. Your heart rate is up, your blood is pumping, what more could a vampire want?"<o:p></o:p></div>
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We made it home just before nightfall, exhausted from riding full throttle for the last two to three miles.<o:p></o:p><br />
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jacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1902578341804413449.post-48015845202147245922016-09-22T22:59:00.000-04:002016-09-22T23:03:31.951-04:00Ohio-to-Erie – Day 3 of Riding, Millersburg to Mt. Vernon- Cartographer's Revenge<div class="MsoNormal">
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Day three of riding was another short day. Sometimes, when planning these long bicycle trips, you are constrained by where the towns fall on the map and just have to accept the spaces therein. Just like you are subject to the geography of the route. Which brings me to my next point of conversation, even more significant hills than day 2. The cartographer of this map should feel lucky to be anonymous.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I woke up with a stiff neck from sleeping on a pillow that felt like it was made of hard rubber. Two Advil and a swig of Orange Crush did the trick.<o:p></o:p></div>
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What goes up must come down and so we started the day rolling back downhill to the Holmes County Trail. The Hotel at Millersburg does not have breakfast so we left our lodging, four hungry ramblers in search of grub. About a quarter mile down the hill we could smell the sweet aroma of fast-food breakfast. There it was, Burger King. But wait! It didn’t appear to be open. The parking lot was void of cars and the tinted windows made the interior seem dim. Upon closer examination there were angels from heaven in Burger King uniforms busy with the grilling sausages and making coffee. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Velojunkie and I reached the front doors first. We dismounted our bikes and properly rested them against the side of the restaurant. After ordering our food we selected a table and waited for Pedal Pal and Roomie. And we waited. And we waited. We assumed a flat tire and started satisfying our need for caffeine and calories. A few minutes later our comrades pulled up. Roomie had suffered a slight mishap when he tried to clip in only to find his cleat was missing. The force of his foot slipping off the pedal threw him off balance and down he went…on his elbow…in the gravel. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Again, angels were with us as Pedal had a spare cleat and Velo had a cleat tool. <i>Who does that?</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4AGSr6crNMffdRwBjEUX2xe2PAKhDNA2BVlZJG6E3HPV0u7ctKFCaR7l5bHVn20kWHM_-CNRSFVb9tKBS58WeFfjhX1cxkY5ndJSRfxzZBx12YD044PZKrdBkBQrMG_i1THVuOXDl1y2I/s1600/buggy+parking+at+walmart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4AGSr6crNMffdRwBjEUX2xe2PAKhDNA2BVlZJG6E3HPV0u7ctKFCaR7l5bHVn20kWHM_-CNRSFVb9tKBS58WeFfjhX1cxkY5ndJSRfxzZBx12YD044PZKrdBkBQrMG_i1THVuOXDl1y2I/s400/buggy+parking+at+walmart.jpg" width="400" /></a>Of course Burger King was void of any fruit for breakfast and Roomie desperately wanted a banana or two to replenish his potassium so we stopped at WalMart. This was convenient because the Holmes County Trail started back up at the edge of the parking lot. This is by design because it is a carriage trail for the Amish as much as it is a bike path. There were even some buggies parked in the Buggy Barn, constructed specifically for those that arrive by horse and buggy. <i>Then there’s that</i>. Can someone please explain why a culture can’t travel by car but can shop at WalMart?<br />
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We enjoyed the smooth and flat trail for about seven miles. Of which Pedal and Roomie rode on ahead at a faster pace.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We left the trail for OH 520, the part of Bike Rte. 1 that passes through Killbuck. But the real drama started when we turned onto Hwy. 6.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhglY4urJ9CdEp2xX9QUhHUznuJBnRbJQrSNCbuJnefON45_uwI2ZhQD7BXKyNq4alzArsf6owHJMY0AwQvRUvh4o8eP5fz-6031pBDaPREf0Xxdk3trjjxc_fUOyWlU_l4N7KcmWC5Ocqn/s1600/Day3+route+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhglY4urJ9CdEp2xX9QUhHUznuJBnRbJQrSNCbuJnefON45_uwI2ZhQD7BXKyNq4alzArsf6owHJMY0AwQvRUvh4o8eP5fz-6031pBDaPREf0Xxdk3trjjxc_fUOyWlU_l4N7KcmWC5Ocqn/s400/Day3+route+6.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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Hills started at about mile 8 and continued up for the next five miles with grades up to 10 and 12%. It wasn’t long before we were all four struggling up the hills together. The exaggerated elevation variations went on for the next two miles; each climb more disheartening than the last. Even Velo had to dismount and walk at one point when a steep climb had a false crest, only to make a sharp turn and continue up.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Hwy. 6 turned into OH 25 and, just when you thought it was safe… BAM… more monster hills.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaj_JvZ1xNyw8a9ln50dHEmioR_cX3GmEU4YDmhd15sDhuzFW1sKridGF7wbX44BoSWs_eWvTg_gQVXJnhvq2IJZ2ilRObnEkjzmmsQAIfs-SlNNZ10ojzm3WeaxUhpilXDXEX2LOc2PY3/s1600/Day3+big+truck.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaj_JvZ1xNyw8a9ln50dHEmioR_cX3GmEU4YDmhd15sDhuzFW1sKridGF7wbX44BoSWs_eWvTg_gQVXJnhvq2IJZ2ilRObnEkjzmmsQAIfs-SlNNZ10ojzm3WeaxUhpilXDXEX2LOc2PY3/s320/Day3+big+truck.JPG" width="320" /></a>Finally, a long, curvy, downhill coast on US 62. The caveat, this is a US route instead of a state route. That can only mean one thing – big trucks share this road. And they were big, and very fast. And very scary.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The trail continues for this stretch, however is impassible at this time and usage is not permitted. For the time being cyclists are forced to use the road along with normal traffic. Note that they are working on the trail and it should be <o:p></o:p><br />
open in 2017.</div>
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We were finally able to exit US 62 for the Mohican Valley Trail. We took a break by the “Bridge of Dreams”; no doubt we were dreaming of a smooth, uninhibited downhill coast. It wasn’t downhill, but it was a nice, flat, relaxing ride on the Mohican Valley trail. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We arrived into Danville hot and hungry. Of the two restaurants in the town we chose “The Bender” for the daily special – BLT and fries for $5.<o:p></o:p></div>
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On the outskirts of Danville we picked up the Kokosing Gap Trail. With four miles or so to go to the Holiday Inn, we left the trail. I gasped at the hills through Gambier, but I struggled through. Gambier is the home of the prestigious and beautiful Kenyon College. The scenery throughout the campus was enjoyable enough to forgive the 8 to 10% climb.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I cried at the last hill, another 10% grade. My legs were spent. Cars were coming up behind me and there was little to no berm on Upper Gilchrist Rd. I made the decision to walk to the top and then ride the last block to the Holiday Inn.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The lady at the Holiday Inn desk was full of knowledge about the famous alumnus of Kenyon, like Paul Newman and Jonathan Winters. You could hear the community pride in her poised assertions. She was also very interested in hearing about our ride. We shared stories for a short time but the two of us were exhausted. After checking in a short swim to cool off sounded glorious. The hotel pool did not disappoint<o:p></o:p></div>
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Pedal and Roomie decided to stay in the center of Mt Vernon and avoided the hill to the Holiday Inn, so it was just Velo and I for dinner. We chose Bob Evans, an Ohio favorite for a hearty meal, because it was in walking distance. <o:p></o:p><br />
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jacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1902578341804413449.post-20787637076688020232016-09-16T11:31:00.000-04:002016-09-16T11:31:05.629-04:00Ohio-to-Erie Trail - Day 2 of Riding, Massillon to Millersburg (Holy Moly Roly Poly)<div class="MsoNormal">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgid16fhWuv8HU4kJrEaPWPBh_CWRQCQntQ2sVzBM_LZwyQ3XCX9YbK_B-0J52J13gigEk9k3UJK4iRIR3f1WDhgimMDpjzTXx0vSgXfUCre6knwosGIMPve0Oh81nEKDXFYW1FTBSpyixe/s1600/Day2+jim+and+horse+wagon2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="361" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgid16fhWuv8HU4kJrEaPWPBh_CWRQCQntQ2sVzBM_LZwyQ3XCX9YbK_B-0J52J13gigEk9k3UJK4iRIR3f1WDhgimMDpjzTXx0vSgXfUCre6knwosGIMPve0Oh81nEKDXFYW1FTBSpyixe/s640/Day2+jim+and+horse+wagon2.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Rising early to get a head start on the mercury, we embarked on the Hampton Inn free breakfast as soon as it was available. This time Pedal Pal was legit, as was our newest comrade, Roomie. Starting early had little impact on the time we checked out, though. I think we lingered at breakfast absorbing as much protein as we could for the impending “significant hills”. The Ohio-to-Erie map folks were kind enough to warn of upcoming elevation, albeit with little detail as to what “significant” truly meant.<o:p></o:p><br />
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Upon leaving the Hampton Inn in Massillon we had no idea one of those hills would hit us smack in the face within a quarter of a mile. Now, I don’t know about you, but my cardio-pulmonary combo likes to have an easy several miles to get into a rhythm with each other. The lungs need about 30 minutes to calibrate the O2 gauge so the heart doesn’t over exert due to insufficient flow of oxygen. Pedal and Roomie bolted ahead of Velo and me. I guess I am more like the tortoise than the hare. Slow and steady, seldom sprinting.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgimJOl6JVw6sFSALVSmRyoJUVHU_vabu7dJ9SkexNIl3H_iRiYYmaZVLoRaxahJwlUxewZDpzCHm1Wfkt923nYpAVEjgAnKDg7DdaOk84F78O6XjpVZcP0nsFNUs02vGjxi7N8-Cb9c056/s1600/Dalton+mural.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgimJOl6JVw6sFSALVSmRyoJUVHU_vabu7dJ9SkexNIl3H_iRiYYmaZVLoRaxahJwlUxewZDpzCHm1Wfkt923nYpAVEjgAnKDg7DdaOk84F78O6XjpVZcP0nsFNUs02vGjxi7N8-Cb9c056/s400/Dalton+mural.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg_Y3Eu6FGvjuMFQCPTZHcDxa557uOjs1Xk4jiQNJ-fbOKs8JgessnPxjeaCcCmWCJu-7ON2ykQlC8MwJHLmzJGn0pI7VIqK1_6XuTokPAkdbRa5D8foIxOfJuScLH683sg4V42HEsqoJ2/s1600/Day2+Amish+hay+bales.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg_Y3Eu6FGvjuMFQCPTZHcDxa557uOjs1Xk4jiQNJ-fbOKs8JgessnPxjeaCcCmWCJu-7ON2ykQlC8MwJHLmzJGn0pI7VIqK1_6XuTokPAkdbRa5D8foIxOfJuScLH683sg4V42HEsqoJ2/s320/Day2+Amish+hay+bales.JPG" width="320" /></a>I assume all of you who ride with any frequency are pretty in-tune with your metabolism and fuel requirements. I am as well and know that in addition to proteins and fats I need some good ole’ carbs for breakfast. Shortly after getting on the trail after conquering the hill I realized I was sorely lacking easily convertible energy. The only thing I had with me that constituted pure sugar was an envelope of instant hot cocoa powder. I laughed when Velo had taken it from our hotel room but I guess he had more foresight than I. So there I was, on the side of the Sippo Valley Trail, pouring cocoa powder in my mouth and waiting for the shot of energy. Just and FYI…it worked really well.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinybMNtaRz85tg0ccdU46et4foBI9UCLJZrIZHrhCNRu7XCXnIjGF7I_D-Ic4l4hS6FaOyHcWXfZZjfQYxMFmrSi4XtKAYMC0Z1ELddTLuNPNPZX5zJnHDq0azVeGUeEG1WgrVtQwUASXE/s1600/amish+school+house.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinybMNtaRz85tg0ccdU46et4foBI9UCLJZrIZHrhCNRu7XCXnIjGF7I_D-Ic4l4hS6FaOyHcWXfZZjfQYxMFmrSi4XtKAYMC0Z1ELddTLuNPNPZX5zJnHDq0azVeGUeEG1WgrVtQwUASXE/s320/amish+school+house.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The <b>Sippo Valley Trail</b> is a flat path that meanders through a quiet, residential neighborhoods and several park-like wooded areas for about 12 miles. Velo and I enjoyed our coast on the trail until we had to leave the comfort of the known terrain for the uncertainty of <b>Bike Route 1</b>. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2EJHw9EZn-aDPnpNydcenkM70yz7Ye00npqOqLeTPrMiZgSX8Hn9IE3fwY33QUyYuroAsWysaWzytd3E1QMRK9wRaOqzlwwTIFhehse7hK7gkOVZZKrI4bzjY7gpCfKPcY_26sOxBrWLx/s1600/thank+goodness+thats+behind+us.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2EJHw9EZn-aDPnpNydcenkM70yz7Ye00npqOqLeTPrMiZgSX8Hn9IE3fwY33QUyYuroAsWysaWzytd3E1QMRK9wRaOqzlwwTIFhehse7hK7gkOVZZKrI4bzjY7gpCfKPcY_26sOxBrWLx/s400/thank+goodness+thats+behind+us.jpg" width="300" /></a><br />
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The majority of the significant hills for day 2 were in the stretch between Dalton (pronounced Dow-ton) and Fredericksburg. At one point we even came across Pedal and Roomie sitting on the side of the road recovering.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The extreme elevation changes only lasted for about fifteen miles, but those were fifteen demoralizing miles that showed us what we were made of. The struggle ended wtih a mile and a half downhill coast into Fredericksburg where we found Lem’s, a small, independent business in the land of the Amish, serving up hearty subs and cold soft-serve. Out of about 15 different favors of ice cream I chose cheesecake. Velo selected butter pecan. We sat at the outside picnic tables for a good, long time enjoying the quietness of the small town and resting our bones. Our gluteus and calf muscles were like rubber bands, our clothes wet and our skin salty from the exertion.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgOgjFAfQAXa7B_bXxNGtH4SHtz8kBp2qrsRP8ypQ8RCxPeu4DHHJWhlyG5seDkGVkXhZ4ZOSpzY82GUAJ2HphjPCOuFjL76GvfJvp8AsmfpciuaD5_D6om0tNINWnfem0j3szOX7Zb_Hl/s1600/Day2+Lems.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgOgjFAfQAXa7B_bXxNGtH4SHtz8kBp2qrsRP8ypQ8RCxPeu4DHHJWhlyG5seDkGVkXhZ4ZOSpzY82GUAJ2HphjPCOuFjL76GvfJvp8AsmfpciuaD5_D6om0tNINWnfem0j3szOX7Zb_Hl/s320/Day2+Lems.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg_Y3Eu6FGvjuMFQCPTZHcDxa557uOjs1Xk4jiQNJ-fbOKs8JgessnPxjeaCcCmWCJu-7ON2ykQlC8MwJHLmzJGn0pI7VIqK1_6XuTokPAkdbRa5D8foIxOfJuScLH683sg4V42HEsqoJ2/s1600/Day2+Amish+hay+bales.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a>The hills were behind us and only ten miles lay between Lem’s and our destination for the night. The <b>Holmes County Trail</b> took us all the way to Millersburg, home of the Hotel at Millersburg.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqriL3lNY2i9IN9AlYDeay-ql81E4DRsa8_-RGOE50VmA28k6Np0x6DHOlez7MkxrVZEioMUHa7CR2Sn1JUxKBGbirSnlVHLKwGXu9A2QBPBs2FqgK_H2NQhNXksCZ-tpfp1H3hOnHNmU4/s1600/day+2+depot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqriL3lNY2i9IN9AlYDeay-ql81E4DRsa8_-RGOE50VmA28k6Np0x6DHOlez7MkxrVZEioMUHa7CR2Sn1JUxKBGbirSnlVHLKwGXu9A2QBPBs2FqgK_H2NQhNXksCZ-tpfp1H3hOnHNmU4/s320/day+2+depot.jpg" width="320" /></a>We stopped at the depot to get directions to the hotel only to find out it was at the top of a hill. As a matter of fact, the whole town was set at the top of that hill.</div>
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Nope. I refused. I made it to town by the power of the pedal, I refused to pedal anymore, or at least not up a hill. I walked my bike up that hill with as much indignation as those struggling to pedal.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The Hotel at Millersburg was very nice. They had a courtyard to park the bikes in until the party room was empty. Then we could lock the bikes up inside for the night. We had spotted the Millersburg Brewery across the street and were excited for a local craft beer. You can imagine our disappointment when we found out they weren’t open on Tuesday. WHAT?! “Bags” was the sports bar next door and luckily had one of the local brews on draught. The spinach salad, chicken wings, and peanut butter cheesecake filled the bill and we were ready for a good nights’ sleep. The 1000+ ft. of climbing in less than 15 miles made a short, 38-mile day quite exhausting.<br />
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In summary – Massillon to Millersburg is a short, 38 mile ride with bike trails on either end. The mid-section has some steep climbs and exhilarating downhills. The elevation gain in the middle certainly makes up for the brevity of the route.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Stay tuned for more adventures of riding the Ohio-to-Erie trail with me, The Reluctant Cyclist, Velojunkie, Pedal Pal, and Roomie.<o:p></o:p></div>
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jacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1902578341804413449.post-85967878696101970922016-08-25T21:41:00.003-04:002016-08-25T21:41:42.176-04:00Ohio to Erie, America's Crossroads<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This trip had been a long time in the making. It seemed whenever we tried to plan it we ran into some sort of obstacle. Finally, the day arrived and we were ready to head north.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Up at 6 a.m. to pick up Pedal Pal, who initially was supposed to meet us in Cleveland. In order to avoid a seemingly endless string of misfortunes, we opted to let him ride in the rented van with us. Having organized these end-to-end rides in the past we discovered a one-way rental was the best solution. Unless, of course, you don’t mind squeezing in the back seat of a small vehicle, with a load of paniers, driven by a nineteen-year-old hipster. A large decal on the side of the car read “The Hatch that gets the Snatch”. Did I mention we were lost for over an hour somewhere in Pennsylvania, in the Snatch Hatch, trying to get home after riding all day. But I digress…<o:p></o:p></div>
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We pulled up to Pedal’s house, startling his wife, Trekkie, when we blew the horn at her as she was walking their beagle. In her state of frenzy, she scooped up poor Mazzy, who in turn started bellowing in her native hound dog bark.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Bikes and bags loaded, we left Cincinnati by 8:00 a.m. and made our destination by 1:00 p.m. After watching Pedal haggle with the hotel host at the Springhill Suites, (his room wasn’t ready at the Red Roof Inn), soaking in the hot tub and indulging in a blissful nap we walked across the street to the “Winking Lizard”.<o:p></o:p></div>
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A keen view of downtown Cleveland and great selection of local ales and soon the joint prophetically became the “Linking Wizard”, or the “Leaking Gizzard”, or… well, I think you get the idea.<o:p></o:p></div>
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By the time we left the Lizard the once empty parking lot had filled completely with a picnicking group of Jehovah’s Witnesses. It’s a good thing they don’t party late into the night because we wanted to hit the road early.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Day 1 of riding – We smuggled Pedal in through the backdoor of the Springhill Suites for the free breakfast at 7 while hiding his bike in our room. He moved like an amorphous creature through the breakfast line so as not to be recognized. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The ride to the trail head was easy breezy on a Sunday morning, even though the road was typically a busy thoroughfare. After posing for a group picture we rode south to the Boston Store, an historic post for textiles, flour, and feed. The skies to the west were darkening but we were optimistically hopeful the storms would miss us. Can I say “Hope is not a plan of action”.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The trail had been detoured in more than one <i>If looks could kill</i>! But each time my instincts were correct and we would have to turn around. Velo would concede, Pedal would laugh, and I would humbly gloat.<o:p></o:p><br />
spot and each detour had an incline bigger than the previous. More than once my instincts told me we had made a wrong turn. Each time I would say “I don’t think this is right” Velojunkie would shoot me “the look”, you know, the one…<br />
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Just south of Peninsula is a nature preserve called Beaver Refuge. Although much of the life there is under the abundant lily pads and other water flora, there was still a turtle and a couple of birds enjoying the creature comforts of the protected area. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The route into Akron was demoralizing. A network of narrow ramps, each being of 5% grade, then a detour through a deserted downtown, followed by a winding course though several neighborhoods culminating with a temporary, floating boardwalk over a swamp. Something large and invisible was leaping out of the water as the platform moved under our feet.</div>
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Soon after leaving the boundaries of the city the skies opened up. I believe we were in the center of the thunderhead. Our only option was to carry on. Our tires sank in the wet, sandy, crushed-stone trail as tiny frogs hopped across in front of us. I was stopped at a crossroads in the blinding rain, the sound of the railroad gates melancholy against the bright lightening and loud thunder claps. I felt as if I were in some Alfred Hitchcock film waiting for the climatic end.<br />
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Pausing in Canal Fulton to get out of the rain, we stopped at the Cherry Street Creamery. A burger and milkshake was the perfect menu for a group of soggy cyclists.<br />
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The still canal was emerald green along the trail. Periodically a Great Blue Heron would be on a limb, watching us with one eye while searching the canal for a meal. Or a gaggle of Canada Geese could be seen socializing amidst the bounty of natural food.<br />
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We made it to Massillon in the late afternoon. Pedal, a college volleyball coach in the fall, turned and headed straight for the rec center where a tournament was being hosted. He was going to try his hand at recruiting despite the wet clothes and the mud caked to his shoes and legs.</div>
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Dinner at Rockne’s Irish Pub provided sufficient fodder to relax and refuel before a rejuvenating sleep at the Hampton Inn.<o:p></o:p><br />
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<i>Watch for Days 2 through 7 to be posted shortly.</i></div>
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jacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.com0Independence, OH, USA41.3686645 -81.637903341.2733575 -81.7992648 41.4639715 -81.4765418tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1902578341804413449.post-88895976095753617912016-07-23T01:36:00.004-04:002016-07-23T01:36:48.751-04:00An Exercise in Fortitude<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Let me preface this story with the reason I registered for the Young’s Dairy Charity Ride. Every year Young’s Jersey Dairy in Yellow Springs, OH hosts a bicycle ride to benefit four different charities – Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation, United Rehabilitation Services of Greater Dayton, South Community Positive Health Options, and, the reason I chose this ride, Alzheimer’s Association.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Last year, on this very weekend, my mother entered the hospital for the last time, as noted by my sister on my FB post. She passed away before month’s end. Like many older adults she suffered dementia and confusion. Unfortunately, society accepts these maladies as a normal part of aging. The Alzheimer’s Association wants to change that. Their mission: <i>To eliminate Alzheimer's disease through the advancement of research; to provide and enhance care and support for all affected; and to reduce the risk of dementia through the promotion of brain health.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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As you can imagine, my emotions were affecting my attitude, though not outwardly visible. Last year I was on the last day of a week-long ride when my sister called with the news . I felt helpless. I was hundreds of miles away in a remote area of Michigan’s UP, on a bike. It was 60 miles to the car, then a ten-hour drive home.<o:p></o:p></div>
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This year I was determined to find a ride that raised money for the Alzheimer’s Association and I would travel as far as I had to in order to participate. Wouldn’t you know there was one just a few counties away?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLm4jTNbz-M0wyC5-H8LisGNmwKpE0ux_3mADmv8LRORco-4-In1PoCaKIzy6VDgZ8oli1pVaxnaLVtnne3WzwNj417aJi5iOYEOmbaXrCiaRBWD_BKq0_3hQHQZoywYGMQGKKBek_ND46/s1600/Day+2+rest+stop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLm4jTNbz-M0wyC5-H8LisGNmwKpE0ux_3mADmv8LRORco-4-In1PoCaKIzy6VDgZ8oli1pVaxnaLVtnne3WzwNj417aJi5iOYEOmbaXrCiaRBWD_BKq0_3hQHQZoywYGMQGKKBek_ND46/s320/Day+2+rest+stop.jpg" width="320" /></a>The ride started early so Velojunkie and I had to set the alarm for 4:30 a.m. With five dogs, two cats, and two goldfish to tend to, getting bikes and bags loaded can be tumultuous at times. We made it to the ride in plenty of time. With the bikes off the car, I started assembling all the gadgets I use for riding and blogging – bike bag, camera, computer, water bottles, etc. First <i>oops</i>! of the ride – I couldn’t find my bike computer. I knew I had it but it wasn’t where I swore I had put it. I looked everywhere and finally checked the first place a second time. Eureka! It was right where I thought it was. How did I miss that?</div>
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We walked our bikes across the highway to the start. That was a mistake because, had I ridden to the start I would have discovered that, by some unknown rhyme or reason, my saddle had been moved, the angle changed significantly. Unfortunately, I didn’t discover it until I jumped into the ride. I refused to stop to adjust it, that would have put us lagging behind all the other riders. I figured I could make it to the first rest stop and make adjustments there. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZSLNfCmXicB0MNVv93QGEUs1MkJLocWde-BZc5g0W1rfcuPDV-vCe_PUactEHLADM8zSreL57_N9HxF0eJsvflpX5cYi8E65YlYDodehlUe_shJYHt3ZUvvmI8J6QWqEOyBxMc4Xl8-7/s1600/Day+1+rest+stop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZSLNfCmXicB0MNVv93QGEUs1MkJLocWde-BZc5g0W1rfcuPDV-vCe_PUactEHLADM8zSreL57_N9HxF0eJsvflpX5cYi8E65YlYDodehlUe_shJYHt3ZUvvmI8J6QWqEOyBxMc4Xl8-7/s400/Day+1+rest+stop.jpg" width="400" /></a>The longer I rode the more defined the maladjustment became. This was a saddle that I had been riding for over a year. I had it perfectly adjusted for my comfort. It should have by no means been touched. I may never know who or what moved it, but I was getting angrier and angrier, and each mile was getting longer and longer as I attempted to find a comfortable position for pedaling. My emotions were on edge anyway so I had to direct my displeasure at someone, and poor Velo was the only soul by my side.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDOb83aOLeH1qns-q8XrYPJqxPutHyrB919H0U6SuDJ4r4V_Nbm6iy86b9w5pj1zvHWEG8brgIvC6p3T62EMPcQP3DzusZObmNj8r4vkU2E5PUg4PjWasjecZiMoi7zqBv2W4HBSotuHDu/s1600/Day+1+nice+job+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDOb83aOLeH1qns-q8XrYPJqxPutHyrB919H0U6SuDJ4r4V_Nbm6iy86b9w5pj1zvHWEG8brgIvC6p3T62EMPcQP3DzusZObmNj8r4vkU2E5PUg4PjWasjecZiMoi7zqBv2W4HBSotuHDu/s320/Day+1+nice+job+2.jpg" width="240" /></a>I took solace in the fact that the weather was superb for riding. The humidity had all but disappeared and the temperatures stayed below 80 for most of the day.<o:p></o:p></div>
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All of the rest stops were sufficiently stocked with grapes, strawberries, cookies, corn chips, trail mix, and more. Something salty, something sweet, and something cold to drink. <o:p></o:p></div>
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First stop, adjust the seat. Ride a little way, better but still not right. Frustration. Feeling some pain now. <b><i>Who the hell touched my saddle</i></b>?!</div>
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Second stop, adjust the seat. Ride a little way. Better but still not right. Becoming more painful. This was supposed to be an awesome ride and a test of fortitude. But, because someone jacked up my seat, it had become an exercise in endurance accompanied by implements of torture.<o:p></o:p></div>
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At the next stop Velo thought maybe my seat needed to be moved back a little farther. He thought it looked like it was up as far as it could go and thought that might help. God love him, he tried. Now the tendinitis in my elbow started to flare because I was extending to reach the handlebars more. And sitting was still painful.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNC7VI-IdbJGb89WYOWziedL1YRhBj682m2PUKg7Phyphenhyphen01PdbEFBh7-gDb8bJvg2CbTuG78Araax9qyu4IDnLazUMqC4Qn52l5fb13krGQH2CFESu_RLmVInUeBmbucg73PKN0OzYJzEmIy/s1600/Day+2+we+were+framed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNC7VI-IdbJGb89WYOWziedL1YRhBj682m2PUKg7Phyphenhyphen01PdbEFBh7-gDb8bJvg2CbTuG78Araax9qyu4IDnLazUMqC4Qn52l5fb13krGQH2CFESu_RLmVInUeBmbucg73PKN0OzYJzEmIy/s400/Day+2+we+were+framed.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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I know. You’re wondering why I am smiling in all of the pictures when it seems the cards are always stacked against me. We all know that “<i>the worst day on a bike is still better than the best day at work</i>”, right?<o:p></o:p></div>
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We made it to the lunch stop, a succulent array of pasta, pulled pork, salad and cheese curds. Bussing it from the lunch stop to skip the last 23 miles of the route was one of the ride options and my insufficient training and tendonitis had convinced me this was the distance I should pursue. The bus was waiting for the 60 mile riders so Velo and I took our seat for a short jaunt to the next rest stop. Our driver, Don, turned one way only to find the bridge was out, then he turned the other way for the detour only to come across a mobile home that had come off its trailer. Luckily the bus and bike-trailer were able to get past the calamity, but, because of the detours, Don was forced to drive the same route as the cyclists. I enjoyed my nap on the slow bus ride and felt refreshed when we reached the last rest stop, just 7 miles from the end. I decided I rested enough to finish the route on my bike for a total ride distance of 65 miles.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The night spent at Ohio Northern University was one pleasant surprise after another. Spacious dorm <o:p></o:p></div>
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rooms to lodge in, free ice cream from Young’s Dairy in a variety of top flavors, cold beer for a minimal donation, nice walking trails decorated by replicas of Remington’s famous sculptures, (full of PokeStops, too), and a banquet dinner in the ballroom. I was exhausted from the early morning rising and the long ride that I was having difficulty keeping my eyes open at the dinner table.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9FwFhXQgwk2WWzEWUWp5MmAHowoel-Mh8H9fpwGBazU0dBMe7n-DTx2bhyphenhyphenPvTi05GDmuU5YGd2Tshw6G8yhrUWKa6TR1jeHl2JKwHY_PSGqe0FJneeUWOtkPnYNR8ZxttjUrIO2HpovYG/s1600/Day+1+ONU.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9FwFhXQgwk2WWzEWUWp5MmAHowoel-Mh8H9fpwGBazU0dBMe7n-DTx2bhyphenhyphenPvTi05GDmuU5YGd2Tshw6G8yhrUWKa6TR1jeHl2JKwHY_PSGqe0FJneeUWOtkPnYNR8ZxttjUrIO2HpovYG/s320/Day+1+ONU.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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The dorms were very spacious. Not what I remembered from my college days. Velo and I had our own dorm equipped with a kitchen, a private bath, and two bedrooms. Each room had a twin size bunk in it furnished with clean sheets and a blanket. All I cared about was that it was soft and clean so it met my requirements perfectly. Velo’s bunk, for some reason, was about four feet off the ground. Velo, if you don’t know, is not a tall dude by any stretch of the imagination. He is also not very bendable so observing him climb into his bunk was my night’s entertainment.<o:p></o:p><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLe6iq7TiGQwsYuX90TDg_5C9HluLNRQcTSZ_Znyh7tNN6GBkdTHkp4_PQKH3oIf7hHkwEhEERGRR7mv2okEaazdyIFfWtNknh7KF3OisSlCEZ4BD242EONaMqZBIx-9oMmOMboY5_UJnY/s1600/Day+2+getting+ready+to+ride.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLe6iq7TiGQwsYuX90TDg_5C9HluLNRQcTSZ_Znyh7tNN6GBkdTHkp4_PQKH3oIf7hHkwEhEERGRR7mv2okEaazdyIFfWtNknh7KF3OisSlCEZ4BD242EONaMqZBIx-9oMmOMboY5_UJnY/s400/Day+2+getting+ready+to+ride.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Day two was starting out hot. We were served breakfast in the cafeteria with the cheer leading camp. Don’t get excited – these were all 8 to 14-year-old cheerleaders. I had already determined we were going to take the optional bus ride for the 25-mile move-ahead. The bus was full this time; I guess a lot of folks wanted to try to get finished before the sun was high and the heat got unbearable.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I had yet to get my seat correct and was just about to throw in the towel. This ride was supposed to be meaningful and dedicated to my late mom. But I had to keep tweaking my seat to the point of discouragement. About halfway through day-2 I may have finally gotten my seat adjusted. The route, though a little different, was a lot more of the same, vast corn fields, typical northern Ohio farms dotted with livestock and churches, and long county roads. After 60 miles in the heat and sun I was soooo glad to reach the finish-line celebration and the car.<o:p></o:p></div>
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If you want to see how a charity ride should be done, come join us on the Young’s Dairy Ride in 2017.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Thank you to all who donated to the cause. You Rock!!!</div>
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#youngsdairycharityride #nicejob</div>
<o:p></o:p>jacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1902578341804413449.post-66630358504277071902016-07-14T11:34:00.001-04:002016-07-14T11:43:24.817-04:00A Rally Ride, a Rainy Race, and more short stories<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOxk3o8UYZmqs5zijOyTbSUEYqjT3xBOPHHdvqRUWHYIMspBIDYvzaggDbywckggPL8AZ8gQgrmYluI6SxL19Hqb-LkwN3UK4yqWHO02hZWNj27l2qbGiHgrPYYuWA2rNTXHMXQFj7bLEg/s1600/20160709_181419.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOxk3o8UYZmqs5zijOyTbSUEYqjT3xBOPHHdvqRUWHYIMspBIDYvzaggDbywckggPL8AZ8gQgrmYluI6SxL19Hqb-LkwN3UK4yqWHO02hZWNj27l2qbGiHgrPYYuWA2rNTXHMXQFj7bLEg/s640/20160709_181419.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">Where has summer gone? I had so many goals for the year. Unfortunately, summer is halfway over and I am not halfway to meeting my goals. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">With the <a href="http://event.youngsbiketour.com/site/TR?type=fr_personal&fr_id=1060&px=1002302&post_id=1030&bpg=rlist&pg=personal">Young’s Dairy Charity Ride</a> fast approaching and our week long trip across Ohio just over a week away, I was getting more than a little worried. That’s when Velo Junkie and I decided enough was enough. We had had enough of house renovations and teenage driving lessons; enough of the daily grind and boring meetings; enough of everything that was keeping us from the great outdoors.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">On June 26<sup>th</sup> we joined a group of riders for the final rally ride sponsored by Young’s Dairy. Our first, their fourth. A 60-mile ride starting in Yellow Springs, Oh.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">On July 2, the Saturday before Independence Day, Velo and I opted for a training ride with our friend, Rick, aka Pedal Pusher. He will be joining us for our Ohio-to-Erie trail ride and is sorely lacking sufficient training as well.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">On July 4<sup>th</sup> Velo and I joined a 5k at Buffalo Trace Distillery in Frankfort, KY. Free bourbon tastings for all.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">July 9<sup>th</sup> took us to Blank Slate Brewery for a pint. Velo wanted to try out his new Kleen Kanteen growler.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So let’s take a closer look at each one of these events through the eyes of the Reluctant Cyclist.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Rally Ride<o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4BviAu33F-Q40GGpWZyOt6tClwYU4H1l2NSEcI6fR5PD5xriFHkdk51GtLq-F_pPBIHElgMiPX18EfyMgWScS8u38vvGoFKa9UcLAZqnrHChX9OtFmDc3E9br-1Hnzbmc-s0OWAf81eki/s1600/1690626+jim+and+jacquie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4BviAu33F-Q40GGpWZyOt6tClwYU4H1l2NSEcI6fR5PD5xriFHkdk51GtLq-F_pPBIHElgMiPX18EfyMgWScS8u38vvGoFKa9UcLAZqnrHChX9OtFmDc3E9br-1Hnzbmc-s0OWAf81eki/s320/1690626+jim+and+jacquie.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal">The rally ride, the whole 60 miles of it, was an exercise in endurance. From the early morning awakening, to the 70-mile drive, to the steamy, 60-mile ride. The day began muggy and humid with the promise of 95-degree heat before we finished. I decided to bring one of our Camelbaks and fill it with ice, but I was lamenting the fact that I couldn’t find the smaller one and how I thought it would be preferential. Velo, in all his wonderfulness, found the smaller unit and tossed it in the car. Close to our destination we stopped at a convenience store to fill the bladder. No mouthpiece! Water was streaming out as fast as we were putting it in. I would have to survive without the cooling effects of ice melting on my back.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvj_v9BG0ueZb6GJWgG8mznaz1_IPr7qEraCCNQh9t7Tm8WrT7QbdO9Ego_Vou4f17lm3lUU8hQa2t8xDp-aKVeejFSQZOVRtyvSUVe_CIItwar2LoioNUWsfzVoqAfHsR8VnAouiiai8K/s1600/DSCN0002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvj_v9BG0ueZb6GJWgG8mznaz1_IPr7qEraCCNQh9t7Tm8WrT7QbdO9Ego_Vou4f17lm3lUU8hQa2t8xDp-aKVeejFSQZOVRtyvSUVe_CIItwar2LoioNUWsfzVoqAfHsR8VnAouiiai8K/s400/DSCN0002.JPG" width="400" /></a>We arrived late so we were the last ones to take off. It wasn’t long before the sun was high in the sky and I felt as though my scalp were shrinking. My genetic makeup is weird in that I don’t perspire very much. Which is a good thing in stressful situations where you should never let them see you sweat. Not so desirable when you start to overheat. I need to carry water to pour over my head to lower my body temperature, and without the Camelbak, I was mildly water deficient.</div><o:p></o:p><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">The second rest stop was a little more than 30 miles into the ride. At that point we could have stayed on the bike trail and reached lunch in 10 miles, or we could have followed the mapped route for a 20-mile spin on the road to lunch. I still felt pretty good and wanted to prepare for the official ride, which offers an 83-mile option, so we picked the road route. Can you say “STUPID”? Ugh. I wanted to be done. We still had 10 miles after lunch and I was waning fast. My back and neck felt as though they had been bound in shrink wrap, my knees had the consistency of wet noodles, and my concentration had been tested beyond all reasonableness. We had to stop a few times for a stretch but fresh ice cream from the dairy was calling. Always have an end-game, a reason for reaching the finish line. Today is was ice cream. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We’ll still have to see about that 83-miles. I may opt for the shorter route. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>River Ride with Pedal<o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikzmb-ZlVwyTpNvjCg4lbCCGCJ80BxLzjfZqkfcS6cCkUl7vlCBw0jGV5YQO9DJwN1nFs3DTXmWvyQz-ke1pN3B5LQuuAhJU3IkknNaaFnilokH3EhlVzYH7N3706Iiygw6oPykcUvI-iD/s1600/20160702_130530.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikzmb-ZlVwyTpNvjCg4lbCCGCJ80BxLzjfZqkfcS6cCkUl7vlCBw0jGV5YQO9DJwN1nFs3DTXmWvyQz-ke1pN3B5LQuuAhJU3IkknNaaFnilokH3EhlVzYH7N3706Iiygw6oPykcUvI-iD/s320/20160702_130530.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal">Our friend Rick (Pedal) was itching to get some miles under his belt and happened to be free at the start of the holiday weekend. We all needed some workouts prior to our week-long journey together so we elected for a 30-miler out and back along the Ohio River. Again, it was rather dewy and hot. No surprise, July in Ohio is likely to be on the moist side with the mercury approaching the limit. I tend to be the limiting factor when Velo and Pedal get together, so I had to express a gentle reminder on the outset that I refused to spin full-throttle the whole way. Threat noted, Velo stayed with me even when Pedal was feeling good and rolling on, which explains the lack of photos for this section of the blog. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiahX0U37B2NBMnTr2Fw9u0DK8sX-3p_GDBHh3ymoE2JLsCZOOG94vv1DwgdyYtzc0NOgmqkjC6trb7xSZfzo_QLFCjGx-DmNGMhi5Ywv7s4E6v5yDA2MIbtStim4kwc18PZSlfRFhlMTnY/s1600/20160702_133419.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiahX0U37B2NBMnTr2Fw9u0DK8sX-3p_GDBHh3ymoE2JLsCZOOG94vv1DwgdyYtzc0NOgmqkjC6trb7xSZfzo_QLFCjGx-DmNGMhi5Ywv7s4E6v5yDA2MIbtStim4kwc18PZSlfRFhlMTnY/s320/20160702_133419.jpg" width="320" /></a>I was riding my Salsa because it is the bike a will need to ride for the weeklong tour. The Salsa, though very utilitarian, is like pedaling a dump truck when compared to the effort required for the lightweight frame of my Gunnar.<o:p></o:p></div><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Our destination was United Dairy Farmers in Sayler Park, along US 50 East, for a milkshake. I tried really hard to say no to the cold, sweet, creamy goodness but the little devil on my shoulder said “Go ahead. You deserve a milkshake”. So a shake it was before our return trip over Hillside Ave., a rolling, residential street one block north of the river.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Buffalo Race<o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOjFnHTWddMeG4tVCg1uFnnIuVlyvM0ODcZQ13pyH5ZNujf5uLI1gVDPJwa9YuLWXQUpaUriTsUZCmSkQjey9bkOCF0PcjjSW3c7o_gRDikVzi-xiLxSZ-DNtzfm4ZpjAmtEJjm8mksJXS/s1600/20160704_075847.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOjFnHTWddMeG4tVCg1uFnnIuVlyvM0ODcZQ13pyH5ZNujf5uLI1gVDPJwa9YuLWXQUpaUriTsUZCmSkQjey9bkOCF0PcjjSW3c7o_gRDikVzi-xiLxSZ-DNtzfm4ZpjAmtEJjm8mksJXS/s400/20160704_075847.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal">I had other plans for July Fourth. I used to run a lot more than ride. Buffalo Trace Distillery was hosting their fifteenth 4<sup>th</sup> of July 5k. I didn’t have to mention bourbon twice for Velo to agree to the race. After a rough morning of trying to figure out who was going to manage the teenager in our absence, we headed to the hotel on Saturday for a good night’s sleep before the race. Frankfort, KY is not too far, but far enough that we didn’t want to have to drive it the morning of the race with a gun-time of 8:00 a.m.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRyEghQi4DnsniFu35OIpUEahkld_9icN2iUgo0EO3SjCiW1LZgzSz22atZINyjBpWL9WmIknrPHAHQaE5GEgNpgj07yzb1euYMiRF57PSptBCsqZAHvBfLygAL6erNlPwD-0ITzchdANW/s1600/20160704_075412.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRyEghQi4DnsniFu35OIpUEahkld_9icN2iUgo0EO3SjCiW1LZgzSz22atZINyjBpWL9WmIknrPHAHQaE5GEgNpgj07yzb1euYMiRF57PSptBCsqZAHvBfLygAL6erNlPwD-0ITzchdANW/s400/20160704_075412.jpg" width="400" /></a>After a light breakfast from the hotel we gathered our luggage and started for the car when we were stopped by two young Kenyan’s waiting at the door for a taxi. They appeared to be very fast and they needed a ride to the race. Through broken English they confirmed they were very fast indeed and that they hoped to win the $3,000 purse for the race. Later that day the race results proved them right. They took first and second place in just over 13 minutes. Congratulations my friends. Nice job.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">The air on the morning of the race could have been cut with a knife. It had rained just enough to create a cloud hanging about waist-high. I, as opposed to our speedy friends, was glad to finish in 38 minutes. All excuses aside, I never excelled at running and had pretty much abandoned the sport in recent years.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizaAlhGe2grbwMfCVO1t_Zar9AwHooDQYdn9B9EZuEiBsFniA47tj52TeLL0BsbPICW80eKyoxzU151M1SRXitPLo_49JqDntH-3Hb4SrnqIfyu5X__WkgFbOLR1E0Zdg7fyBGQPpciDcD/s1600/20160704_084801.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizaAlhGe2grbwMfCVO1t_Zar9AwHooDQYdn9B9EZuEiBsFniA47tj52TeLL0BsbPICW80eKyoxzU151M1SRXitPLo_49JqDntH-3Hb4SrnqIfyu5X__WkgFbOLR1E0Zdg7fyBGQPpciDcD/s320/20160704_084801.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">The end-game for the race was quite different than the two recent rides, yet just as rewarding. Since the race took place at the oldest bourbon distillery in Kentucky we would be amiss to leave without a taste of the fruits of the still.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUWI4iN-ktDXVvFu8628K1F1h7709B5w7BBOtkeYJvaeDm2D1jasByO8aamq0GNLqaNit-FQ35nCZtYWPhDFnLZHws5TkcQ38bCDAkB0h3iGUIJVX4uXoL-f9FMVrFSZzdO5FzpQWrkE_A/s1600/20160704_072310.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUWI4iN-ktDXVvFu8628K1F1h7709B5w7BBOtkeYJvaeDm2D1jasByO8aamq0GNLqaNit-FQ35nCZtYWPhDFnLZHws5TkcQ38bCDAkB0h3iGUIJVX4uXoL-f9FMVrFSZzdO5FzpQWrkE_A/s320/20160704_072310.jpg" width="320" /></a><i>White Dog</i> was the clear, virgin whisky that hadn’t seen the inside of a barrel yet. I think it removed a layer of flesh from the back of my throat on the way down. <i>Buffalo Trace Bourbon</i> was a blend, and a very good one at that. <i>Eagle’s Rare</i> was single batch and aged at least ten years in oak barrels. Apparently the distillers wanted to create something that didn’t need to rest nearly as long as bourbon so they came up with Wheatley Vodka. I recommend it if you are a vodka person, but I seldom consume the stuff. Our last taste was <i>Buffalo Trace Cream</i>. This was excellent by itself, but mixed with their <i>Dr. McGillicuddy’s</i> Root Beer…I think I just found my new favorite dessert. A bourbon laced root beer float.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Tried and True, Blank Slate</b><i><o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHjgCtxXl-CiOZaMlRZ1M63f_D_kPVoGy1unlQC2pJfKVDnRlcwb23_qoO38Bwu6JCSTk-sr8D3uiT5YUbDI2Q01XzjjwlJmfHZn97iH97Sx697AIy3xWvrqiIhE0Hm3oF2j5G9JFAumGG/s1600/20160709_180936.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHjgCtxXl-CiOZaMlRZ1M63f_D_kPVoGy1unlQC2pJfKVDnRlcwb23_qoO38Bwu6JCSTk-sr8D3uiT5YUbDI2Q01XzjjwlJmfHZn97iH97Sx697AIy3xWvrqiIhE0Hm3oF2j5G9JFAumGG/s320/20160709_180936.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuYFdGG6iPv-Gu7b5vjnhNngX98fyQ1fi8clHE7xw7MFwdzVZVxGAfy8_qBMSP66ZWB6lZ0ys7cFshYXJ1BP7WXYaioBYP_B3UMpb2P_W2XNi9kOI8tIdvsal0TGUjJznF-SfLO1AA7vGQ/s1600/growler+trial.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuYFdGG6iPv-Gu7b5vjnhNngX98fyQ1fi8clHE7xw7MFwdzVZVxGAfy8_qBMSP66ZWB6lZ0ys7cFshYXJ1BP7WXYaioBYP_B3UMpb2P_W2XNi9kOI8tIdvsal0TGUjJznF-SfLO1AA7vGQ/s320/growler+trial.jpg" width="320" /></a>After a very busy holiday weekend and then a short but busy work week, another Saturday came along. Since all the responsibilities had been neglected for the holiday the previous weekend, we had a few tasks to attend to. After working on the old house for several hours in the humid heat and then restocking the groceries for the upcoming week, we were determined to get a ride in. Velo wanted to try out his new <i>Kleen Kanteen</i> growler so we took a short jaunt over to Blank Slate Brewery, Velo’s favorite tap room.</div><o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGjZng6tHJvkNaZH8KntZXPgjRYTzxtptDoFrb5r9NNgHch1VYPcWxPLP4GBZXIiM3srnr0fQ8N772LRDGEh0BdhVhQqON-8-Sz17qdgQZTjMaQ71U57b8JDYGV3eBSYBy8ZEHR31_Secf/s1600/20160709_194837.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGjZng6tHJvkNaZH8KntZXPgjRYTzxtptDoFrb5r9NNgHch1VYPcWxPLP4GBZXIiM3srnr0fQ8N772LRDGEh0BdhVhQqON-8-Sz17qdgQZTjMaQ71U57b8JDYGV3eBSYBy8ZEHR31_Secf/s400/20160709_194837.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">My Gunnar was in the shop getting a tune up for the upcoming charity ride so I chose my vintage Mercian for the ride. I hadn’t had him out in quite some time. I was extremely pleased to find the old lad still had pep. It was a glorious ride and I concluded I really needed to get him out of the stable more often.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Next ride…..<o:p></o:p></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"> Young’s Dairy Charity Ride<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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jacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1902578341804413449.post-43248000281234776702016-07-06T11:51:00.000-04:002016-07-06T11:51:36.892-04:00Dad’s Day 2016 - a Bike, a Beer, a Burger, and a Cupcake<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0mOaUWZ1s1Qm05NUDjYaeHyC455nfi1J6xSLBjkXLvRQfxpCy1n7faBiFluxpdeZvY-kzPvkT6aKO8-6gDRrE7HSQveev1Vt5OCfGBpKyU_wc2TCy7acN0FxvBBc7Y3_xDiuvIwvjTggy/s1600/20160618_122642.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0mOaUWZ1s1Qm05NUDjYaeHyC455nfi1J6xSLBjkXLvRQfxpCy1n7faBiFluxpdeZvY-kzPvkT6aKO8-6gDRrE7HSQveev1Vt5OCfGBpKyU_wc2TCy7acN0FxvBBc7Y3_xDiuvIwvjTggy/s400/20160618_122642.jpg" width="225" /></a>No matter how many times you travel the same route there is always something new. Especially in a city that is experiencing a major transformation. We followed a path we have ridden so many times I believe there may be grooves in the pavement from our bike tires. Today, about 3 miles in, we come across a festival on the riverfront, in Smale Park to be exact. There, smiling at us, about 12 feet tall and 10 feet in diameter, a giant, red, <b><i>Air Heads</i></b> balloon. We detoured to get closer, only to run into a “NO BICYCLES” sign. Booooo! </div>
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Oh well. That wasn't the main purpose for the ride anyhow. I wanted to test my climbing legs. I have some pretty serious tours in the near future and have been sidelined from riding for many unavoidable events. Traveling for work. Prepping for presentations. Managing a house remodel. Teenage driving lessons. And on and on and on.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc__FEGWTz5DnUC2NEuEltmHb_0zmbD84XUNR1XzIY0NKLy-a-9FhIAmLfcVYNc5TcW5HWCr5oY8Qmay8fNzdOJJ13lHBpW2GyqHKOh-rHm2iTuBpNlNmYD1DgujULX8b00GwaI7IagQI8/s1600/Velo+and+the+reluctant+cyclist.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc__FEGWTz5DnUC2NEuEltmHb_0zmbD84XUNR1XzIY0NKLy-a-9FhIAmLfcVYNc5TcW5HWCr5oY8Qmay8fNzdOJJ13lHBpW2GyqHKOh-rHm2iTuBpNlNmYD1DgujULX8b00GwaI7IagQI8/s320/Velo+and+the+reluctant+cyclist.jpg" width="320" /></a>So this weekend VeloJunkie and I needed to get in at least one long hill. It was Father’s Day weekend, and although Velo, affectionately known as Jim around our house, does not have the same DNA as my kids, he is the best example of a dad ever. His favorite thing to do is ride his bike so I wanted to ride with him as far as he wanted to go in celebration of Dad’s Day. </div>
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Anybody can be a father. It takes a special kind of person to be a Dad!<o:p></o:p></div>
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One of the best hills in Cincinnati for cyclists is Delta Ave. It connects Columbia-Tusculum to Hyde Park via Mt. Lookout. It starts at Riverside and ends at Erie. Riverside, being on the south end and true to its name, hugs the Ohio River. It is very common to get behind boats being towed, as there are many docks along the way. Riverside also boasts a fair share of motorcycles, dog walkers, and other cyclists on any given sunny, summer day.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Before embarking on our climb I made Velo take a moment with me to hydrate at the bottom of the hill. I’ve been known to get a little wobbly in long climbs. (<i>And grumpy. And reluctant</i>.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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Just about half way up there is a traffic circle to announce Mt. Lookout. The name says it all. It is a great place to look out over the river. However, it is not at the top of the hill. The upward momentum doesn’t end until you reach Erie Ave. But once you crest the summit, the coast on the other side generates speeds surpassing 30 mph. Until we reach Murray bike path. Excessive speed on the bike path is, let’s say, moderately frowned upon. <o:p></o:p><br />
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<i>Enjoy this short video of our ride.</i></div>
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<b>Dily Deli</b>, setting right in the middle of the square, was the perfect setting for lunch. After sharing a burger I snuck away to the <b>Sweeterie </b>to buy a giant, peanut butter cupcake for Velo’s special day. Of course he shared it with me, being the perfect gentleman he is. (<i>Ahem</i>) </div>
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Content now with fat and sugar pulsing through our veins we left the tree-lined streets of Mariemont for the industrialized community of Fairfax, home to Kellogg's manufacturing, Cincinnati Paperboard, and Pruss Construction.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLAfU8itZpF-du69N5h7rQrLVtJb_dRSFc6vxUbwVpputi-p05ZDGi6P_FP1Nns8xRIPXDP2kYHxyvOdhJGzVm5H11G8rEVFAji-Gz7l7lAdDPZuWQuUTGCjXnmHFoAnpNHwl8AefZTlDu/s1600/20160618_143236.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLAfU8itZpF-du69N5h7rQrLVtJb_dRSFc6vxUbwVpputi-p05ZDGi6P_FP1Nns8xRIPXDP2kYHxyvOdhJGzVm5H11G8rEVFAji-Gz7l7lAdDPZuWQuUTGCjXnmHFoAnpNHwl8AefZTlDu/s320/20160618_143236.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The opposite side of Fairfax, via the Armleder Connector, is the historic community of Columbia-Tusculum. We had just completed a loop, one we have done many times, and were headed westward toward home with only one more stop. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo-sBRrmNUjYmPNLxZK1Ha-M8uYvYMQinMZyOlpiBUpPb4aIJ2TY8OmHrRN6VP6mYhBVFnxzvkx2FSnKt3Th0Fu9IiBHxz2HIcg825-Qr0uSh0LNf2G6zl0bMFAQpxK4FK6bdbCDlWkApG/s1600/more+bikes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo-sBRrmNUjYmPNLxZK1Ha-M8uYvYMQinMZyOlpiBUpPb4aIJ2TY8OmHrRN6VP6mYhBVFnxzvkx2FSnKt3Th0Fu9IiBHxz2HIcg825-Qr0uSh0LNf2G6zl0bMFAQpxK4FK6bdbCDlWkApG/s320/more+bikes.jpg" width="320" /></a>Velo’s favorite tap room, Blank Slate, was in sight. Home of fantastic malt and hop creations such as Shroominous, Fork in the Road, Rising Up, and my fave, Pinango. The pineapple-mango infused ale hit the spot on such a warm summer day. </div>
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So tell me, who could ask for a better Dad’s Day than a bike, a beer, a burger, and a cupcake?<o:p></o:p></div>
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#airheads #velojunkie #fathersday2016 #blankslatebrewery #deltaavenueclimb #dilydeli #sweeteriejacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1902578341804413449.post-82203337063753736002016-06-21T11:19:00.002-04:002016-06-21T11:25:22.437-04:00Sometimes Life Gets in the Way<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL2WQscVfmEMnq9Q8ErMIOTAntR4jdEdyDxw-BXboiGt-TjnJeEsMFUXBF9HsqWMH4vlLv6Z0Agmjw1t5woVqYoo5VFSsRmyw9VSny7ileelGONoUzXanyvB2-DOr4T1j5N-j27oXBtEmn/s1600/20160529_231556.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL2WQscVfmEMnq9Q8ErMIOTAntR4jdEdyDxw-BXboiGt-TjnJeEsMFUXBF9HsqWMH4vlLv6Z0Agmjw1t5woVqYoo5VFSsRmyw9VSny7ileelGONoUzXanyvB2-DOr4T1j5N-j27oXBtEmn/s320/20160529_231556.jpg" width="320" /></a>Several weeks ago VeloJunkie and I managed to get the exterior of our vintage cottage painted, new doors installed, walls removed, and a new roof put on the old house we are renovating. We worked into the evenings, putting in more than 12 hour days. But we miss our bikes.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuptrmZKsfUoYMAoh7wT1AmvUa55b1BluH8KmGZz4nGLpelq0aSaM8y0Jd3FTHbLlpcvWFBqjfNMe4sAr9wZQRdsGcJ1LsWfdO_JvxJC9IlSx8MzEdvwAaP7QavKhglIr2LTMtQ1eAfThe/s1600/20160604_095430.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuptrmZKsfUoYMAoh7wT1AmvUa55b1BluH8KmGZz4nGLpelq0aSaM8y0Jd3FTHbLlpcvWFBqjfNMe4sAr9wZQRdsGcJ1LsWfdO_JvxJC9IlSx8MzEdvwAaP7QavKhglIr2LTMtQ1eAfThe/s320/20160604_095430.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The first weekend in June was hot and sunny and I spent it sitting at the community yard sale trying to rehome all of the leftovers from the old house. What didn’t sell was donated. I made a total of $40, which was donated to Alzheimer’s Association. I was really wanting to ride.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicU2E7LnRlyvu9L1yCaMSR-_9N7rcmZ1VudD_atETRDxhMKnU9FEYk7-snBFuZCGZclZRgBnznk2TJzlu5aWJuisq_3jBYa4fMuaRUY2oFQR14mtspStFrHoHVnUuhoJqKWY02tBZF1PDa/s1600/turkey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicU2E7LnRlyvu9L1yCaMSR-_9N7rcmZ1VudD_atETRDxhMKnU9FEYk7-snBFuZCGZclZRgBnznk2TJzlu5aWJuisq_3jBYa4fMuaRUY2oFQR14mtspStFrHoHVnUuhoJqKWY02tBZF1PDa/s320/turkey.jpg" width="212" /></a> Last week I was sitting in my hotel room in Boston, missing my bike. Velo had to attend a conference on the other side of the country in Las Vegas. We were both missing our bikes. Since I couldn’t ride, I walked every evening only to be startled by a pair of wild turkeys lurking in the parking lot. And to think, Ben Franklin wanted these guys to be the national bird. </div>
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This week I’m sitting in my hotel room in Atlanta, missing my bike. VeloJunkie and I were supposed to drive here together, bring our bikes, and ride some of the bikeways around the city. No such luck. Velo’s employer had other plans. So I am watching the Tiny Homes on HGTV and getting all kinds of ideas for our cottage. I will be mostly confined to the hotel and convention center with no chance to ride.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Sometimes life gets in the way..</b></span><span style="font-size: 16pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjed-cztTqNMlPIHTeSsWvSIazNTH5s01Jdg60QFPU_UzpO74l0tlVWsCVRLn8IRZXbsHA_6BQIczYIckY8gsD0UwPm3v_1n8qdebIbEXos0Cw1tA-fmOZU32G5z8JT-ZpsRo3zVMZ6Tjhu/s1600/20160611_121338.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjed-cztTqNMlPIHTeSsWvSIazNTH5s01Jdg60QFPU_UzpO74l0tlVWsCVRLn8IRZXbsHA_6BQIczYIckY8gsD0UwPm3v_1n8qdebIbEXos0Cw1tA-fmOZU32G5z8JT-ZpsRo3zVMZ6Tjhu/s320/20160611_121338.jpg" width="320" /></a>Which is why you have to jump on every opportunity when it presents itself. And right now weekends are all we have, and only <i>some</i> of them. The brutal part is that we are participating in the 160 mile Young’s Dairy Charity ride in July and have not had much time for training. <i>(Any words of encouragement will be warmly received and appreciated)<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg018AV2KgGrnKPa3oH04K3Hjxwz_Fxu7sjYNu7CVp6qMC80OliRz7Xs7bqNjxgxrmztPXTO0trHdRXKu77oF8rBH_vJUfWxj5s-YdmHFEvqIrdJAuiO-cIfhEsjQxptOV33HmCa4S0vXhi/s1600/20160611_122336.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg018AV2KgGrnKPa3oH04K3Hjxwz_Fxu7sjYNu7CVp6qMC80OliRz7Xs7bqNjxgxrmztPXTO0trHdRXKu77oF8rBH_vJUfWxj5s-YdmHFEvqIrdJAuiO-cIfhEsjQxptOV33HmCa4S0vXhi/s400/20160611_122336.jpg" width="400" /></a>I was really glad that all of the amiable elements of weather convened for the second weekend in June. 50 West Cycling has been organizing expeditions out of their new place on the east side and I wanted to join one of their casual rides. This was the perfect opportunity. We arrived to find it was a ride led by Cincinnati Cycle Club, of which we are already card carrying members, so that was awesome. And, we already knew the ride leader, Cindy. I think we ended up with a group of about 12 riders of all different riding goals and abilities.<o:p></o:p><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGLclKfklrqwgSbdAan8ev7IKNRY9fLLm0K4KrZHexMRzOQQUIBA7ojRly7sxzJvjZwX340KwtdKfqPudx89wD-eywNmbIN0FNYje9frPpKhM5sDZ8N01pJQG2_aveV9t8_9CrMnINe7d6/s1600/20160611_121352.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGLclKfklrqwgSbdAan8ev7IKNRY9fLLm0K4KrZHexMRzOQQUIBA7ojRly7sxzJvjZwX340KwtdKfqPudx89wD-eywNmbIN0FNYje9frPpKhM5sDZ8N01pJQG2_aveV9t8_9CrMnINe7d6/s320/20160611_121352.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The ride was advertised as a casual, 11-12 mph, 25 mile ride. Which is exactly what it was, however I think a couple of folks missed the small print. With a no-drop policy, the going was a little slow at times, but the pace allowed for meeting new people and amicable comradery. The neighborhood we toured was home to a lot of frame houses very similar to our cottage. It was really cool comparing and contrasting all the different paint schemes and add-on ideas. The last part of the ride got a bit windy but it was good to be out on the bike.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I can’t wait till we get the house complete enough to move into. Then maybe I can think of something besides remodeling and find more time to ride…or anything else, for that matter. If anyone is interested in following the progress of the house you can see it at <a href="http://hofmannhaus.blogspot.com/">http://hofmannhaus.blogspot.com/</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIktbHUjtdGUBI31U8_7ouPM9I7fra6d80OOan1rnFsb3Nvhukxx1Qu5xG6UkwFR5e5grt38Y0nXI8vomoLQ9e24cfhjZURwemivKESBB7R9Bw6jQg9fwNz8ug_kGGAR9Z5B0kJ4jHqnrb/s1600/20160618_140533.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIktbHUjtdGUBI31U8_7ouPM9I7fra6d80OOan1rnFsb3Nvhukxx1Qu5xG6UkwFR5e5grt38Y0nXI8vomoLQ9e24cfhjZURwemivKESBB7R9Bw6jQg9fwNz8ug_kGGAR9Z5B0kJ4jHqnrb/s320/20160618_140533.jpg" width="180" /></a>The third weekend in June, after working on the electric in the new (old) place, Velo and I ventured out on our own ride. It was Father’s Day weekend so I suggested a ride that I knew he would love. We rode to Mariemont for lunch at Dily Deli and I treated him to a larger-than-life peanut butter cupcake. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsPFS0hHQtNMMkfJdtyWF-hti2wq4WraTyc-lh8gqET0xFTfWrP0jWid_CgrZc11csy_30T-oo6rZBPmR_mRsax79HcF2-mYKkvL7tymPz6EksEIUlFrscsQCDjqFcBtMN-a5QkmArAnlg/s1600/20160618_150317.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsPFS0hHQtNMMkfJdtyWF-hti2wq4WraTyc-lh8gqET0xFTfWrP0jWid_CgrZc11csy_30T-oo6rZBPmR_mRsax79HcF2-mYKkvL7tymPz6EksEIUlFrscsQCDjqFcBtMN-a5QkmArAnlg/s320/20160618_150317.jpg" width="320" /></a>I didn’t have to ask twice if he wanted to ride to his favorite tap room, Blank Slate. When we pulled into the parking lot, <i>there were more bikes parked there than cars.</i> Amazing! The bar was lined up with cyclists. Velo and I took our seats at the end and ordered up two pints of liquid sunshine.<o:p></o:p></div>
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For those of you who like to promote independent films, <i><span lang="EN">Allyson West,</span></i><span lang="EN"> </span>one of the taproom employees, is hosting a fundraiser at Blank Slate on July 3 to promote her film, “Texican”. For details, click <a href="https://www.facebook.com/blankslatebeer/events">HERE</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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So, was it the effects of the beer or the lack of riding? I don’t know but on our way home I almost dumped the bike over in an intersection because I didn’t unclip in time. Almost. I managed to get my balance but not before I knocked my computer off the bike into the next lane. I was able to recover, albeit with a bruised ego, and successfully make it home before melting in the hot sun. I guess it happens to the best of us at times.<o:p></o:p><br />
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After surviving a 35 mile ride in 88 degrees I got home and replaced my cleats for a pair of flip flops, only to sprain a toe trying to kill a cockroach. UGH. </div>
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<b><i>Reluctant Cyclist – 0; Cockroach - 1</i></b><o:p></o:p></div>
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This next weekend, the last one in June, Velo and I are planning to participate in the final Young’s Dairy training ride before the event in July. Let’s just hope life doesn’t get in the way.<o:p></o:p></div>
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#Blankslatebrewing #dilydeli #fiftywestcycling #cincinnaticycleclubjacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1902578341804413449.post-88369930882816135982016-06-14T23:51:00.001-04:002016-06-14T23:52:10.443-04:00I Will Ride<div><div>I am having a hard time writing this blog while I sit in my hotel room listening to the testimony of survivors and friends of those killed in Orlando. My life has been beyond busy these past couple of weeks, so, after missing from the cycling scene for over a month, I had planned a comical blog about missing my bike and feeling lonely from being out of the saddle for so long. I was going to talk about how my bike must miss me as well. But somehow it doesn’t seem so funny to talk about missing someone or something in the aftermath of such a tragedy.</div><div><br></div><div>The news this past week was a stark reminder of just how fleeting life can be. It was also an example of human heroism. I am very solemn and remorseful for the people who have lost a piece of their world. For what it’s worth, I am thankful that the people who passed were surrounded by others who accepted and loved them. </div><div><br></div><div>I will ride this weekend, I need to. In a couple of weeks I will ride 160 miles for Alzheimer’s and I need to train. I will ride this weekend because I will live this weekend. And I will ride for Orlando this weekend.</div></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0wLyhJTqllYKJLlSiwRuM7l-e50RRceuz765_L3wDTUW60PzQYu8FG1U8BGlsGyGoPPOzwsumsfME4Py8mGcQiXScyjpmsx-FyYj8wuE7dfjtSyvOtzxTAGRAS75g1eVourIOokyDsnYp/s640/blogger-image-492810485.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0wLyhJTqllYKJLlSiwRuM7l-e50RRceuz765_L3wDTUW60PzQYu8FG1U8BGlsGyGoPPOzwsumsfME4Py8mGcQiXScyjpmsx-FyYj8wuE7dfjtSyvOtzxTAGRAS75g1eVourIOokyDsnYp/s640/blogger-image-492810485.jpg"></a></div> jacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1902578341804413449.post-33293826081608321122016-05-15T23:17:00.000-04:002016-05-15T23:17:11.859-04:00One Mother of a Weekend<div class="MsoNormal">
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Some moms think Mother’s day is a day to be surrounded by their kids. But if we are surrounded by our kids, how is the day different than any other day? Is it wrong that all I wanted to do, as the Honored Matriarch, was…..NOTHING?<o:p></o:p></div>
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Actually, both my kids were elsewhere. Not because they wanted to be but because that was how fate would have it. I missed them but I reveled in the freedom of a warm spring day with abundant opportunities to do…..NOTHING.<o:p></o:p></div>
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As much as the day was grand, I was weary; the day bright, I was dismal; the day inviting, I was sluggish. Why do we do it? We know we have, <i>and will</i>, achieve great things each summer so why do we let that vision wane through the winter.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It’s the same cycle year after year. <o:p></o:p></div>
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April – look in the mirror with disdain and say, “Look what you’ve done.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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May – hit the cycling circuit hard to train.<o:p></o:p></div>
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June – Finally dig out last year’s kits, the ones that didn’t fit in April. <o:p></o:p></div>
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July – Achieve great things:<o:p></o:p></div>
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August – look in the mirror with euphoria and say, “Look what you’ve done!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrSdWPORMJslOXYpKkyNzGm6wsEhyGwFsEeCICnS2RRZcgEie-jGvmHQJFnWJmdoyYXIMMHGK77oe02liT5mECdzZm_nFnRq-nwrTrliwBnHPHTEnbDkRxCPKClbabVIiz2ajMSu4PQqHU/s1600/20160507_125802.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrSdWPORMJslOXYpKkyNzGm6wsEhyGwFsEeCICnS2RRZcgEie-jGvmHQJFnWJmdoyYXIMMHGK77oe02liT5mECdzZm_nFnRq-nwrTrliwBnHPHTEnbDkRxCPKClbabVIiz2ajMSu4PQqHU/s320/20160507_125802.jpg" width="320" /></a> We had plans to ride on Saturday but I was feeling the disdain from the previous season. Having trouble finding a jersey that fit my forgotten winter body I settled for a technical t-shirt. Fortunately, for Velojunkie, I was on a mission that required me to go to the market. For his part in this whole conundrum, Velo stayed positive while staying out of my way (probably because he knew there was a beer garden to visit). A true credit to his gender.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It truly is amazing how riding your bike can turn a bad day into a good one. It can turn a frown into a smile, and a chore into an adventure. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT_6Uk9NBwnIYYmd5sfFdUwCxuGk3DSwg087cPmiJQk3bDGFl8i_T4yP-hUSJcGSjjEipitD_LJKSUd0LCOc2vzMwgPbOHCkHgbQl-fx_19BGSsJVMgjTy9bt5ZPs-fLkQOPHUQKgG3ptR/s1600/purple+monster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT_6Uk9NBwnIYYmd5sfFdUwCxuGk3DSwg087cPmiJQk3bDGFl8i_T4yP-hUSJcGSjjEipitD_LJKSUd0LCOc2vzMwgPbOHCkHgbQl-fx_19BGSsJVMgjTy9bt5ZPs-fLkQOPHUQKgG3ptR/s320/purple+monster.jpg" width="320" /></a>We departed from home mid-morning, the sun instantly evaporating the grey cloud over my mood. We took an awesome new route through Northside, over the Ludlow connecting bridge to Central Parkway. With the majority of the construction complete, Velo and I enjoyed our ride into Over-the-Rhine. I should mention Central Parkway follows the old canal route. Recently the city installed a protected bike lane on this route and it makes for an enjoyable ride.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj4Uz8C1hJp8UBkgOHtwCRmFKmk54yxX8qKNg5JoiWhn4p570O6ibTN5kt7fETblKRoP0RTdkqrqEYdUTIUHe2wNOrNY5lBSXHlh3awS43Xy-TeKGATerGnzvd4HXPgTX4ggikKeK4bIoC/s1600/20160507_115509.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj4Uz8C1hJp8UBkgOHtwCRmFKmk54yxX8qKNg5JoiWhn4p570O6ibTN5kt7fETblKRoP0RTdkqrqEYdUTIUHe2wNOrNY5lBSXHlh3awS43Xy-TeKGATerGnzvd4HXPgTX4ggikKeK4bIoC/s320/20160507_115509.jpg" width="179" /></a>About 7 miles into the ride it was time for beer and chocolate. Velo bought me a <a href="http://maverickchocolate.com/"><b>Maverick</b></a> Bourbon and Sea Salt dark chocolate bar and a <a href="http://www.christianmoerlein.com/"><b>Moerlein</b></a> Purity. I did taste the lemon and lavender bar, but Velo being a left brain was more interested in the bourbon bar. As I sat enjoying my delicacies and libations Velo showed up with some bones and jalapeno cornbread from <a href="http://www.elisbarbeque.com/"><b>Eli’s</b></a>. Eli’s has possibly the best barbecue in the queen city. If you have never been to <a href="http://www.findlaymarket.org/"><b>Findlay Market</b></a>, or haven’t been in several years, you are missing out on a true urban gem. On Saturdays and Sundays they have the beer garden, music, plenty of food vendors along with some interesting booths selling locally crafted wares</div>
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I think I could have sat in the open beer garden all day but then I wouldn’t have accomplished what I set out for. I was at the market to pick up a <a href="http://bandiwear.com/"><b>Bandi</b></a><b> </b>for a graduation gift. Mission accomplished we decided to add miles by riding south on Central Parkway to Plum Street and on to the riverfront. This was one of those journeys you make up as you go, but Plum St. has some extraordinary buildings. First we came across City Hall. Cincinnati City Hall was designed by renowned Cincinnati architect Samuel Hannaford and was completed in 1893. Next is the <b><a href="https://www.wisetemple.org/">Isaac M. Wise Temple</a> </b>built in 1866, and the <b><a href="http://www.stpeterinchainscathedral.org/About-St.-Peters">St. Peter in Chains Cathedral</a>,</b> completed in 1845. We were graced with a light sprinkle of rain as we rode past the religious houses but it subsided as we headed toward the river.</div>
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I told Velo I wanted to see if the roses were in bloom in the <a href="http://www.cincinnatiparks.com/river-parks/theodore-m-berry-international-friendship-park/"><b>International Friendship Park.</b></a><b> </b>A slow ride through the park’s winding path was just what the soul needed to realize the gift of nature we have here in Cincinnati. I am including many pictures of the park because I do not feel my words could do it justice. <o:p></o:p></div>
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In addition to the many flowering bushes, colorful trees, and spring blooms we met two very well behaved dogs taking their people for a walk through the gardens, making sure to stop to smell the flowers. Proof positive that dogs are our best friends!<br />
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A short video of my ride including a trip through the International Friendship Park and views of City Hall, the Synagogue, and the Cathedral. </div>
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jacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.com1Findlay St, Cincinnati, OH, USA39.1160813 -84.52719789999997639.103761299999995 -84.547367899999969 39.1284013 -84.507027899999983tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1902578341804413449.post-5719046146072092832016-04-25T14:09:00.001-04:002016-04-25T14:09:38.353-04:00How Many Cyclist Fit Under a Bridge?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span lang="EN" style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Ahhh, one of our favorite times of the year – Spring. Opening day for Baseball had come and past and now it was time for biking. The morning arrived for the Cincinnati Cycling Club’s Spring Opener, and what a glorious morning it was. The air was cool and moist when Velo Junkie and I left home. Within the first several miles of our commute the clouds were dissipating and the warm rays of the sun were vaporizing the chill of the morning dew. By the time we reached the assembly of cyclists the sun was high in the sky and folks were already shedding layers of cycling gear to let the warm rays caress their skin.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpuj3eLZiTcOsbMFjGBl9I11vq9Ho53B5akidDGhf86-dTNJtKug9S9TtcHr6urNXKprjR_hT3BXJ3LEHM3WybiAXSqAXo35z33DRU5GVN4AzYWv4yc4C2qL_4U3jnBj2p89ZvjY9xij7w/s1600/Lining+up+for+the+ride+10+am.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpuj3eLZiTcOsbMFjGBl9I11vq9Ho53B5akidDGhf86-dTNJtKug9S9TtcHr6urNXKprjR_hT3BXJ3LEHM3WybiAXSqAXo35z33DRU5GVN4AzYWv4yc4C2qL_4U3jnBj2p89ZvjY9xij7w/s320/Lining+up+for+the+ride+10+am.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGFk76vHvZligSX9R-wEMyKkQhtI7IkZBmCxTAZ6yfrhDJ-jraErEpOV9kAPXTC5rgV8tBQb3Nrhj_e7LZVT_qfdYn_lCuvFJcntQxam80mmBkHSepSA6UcB3mJUxqp0n2KOQfoZO8spwl/s1600/Lining+up+for+the+ride+930+am.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGFk76vHvZligSX9R-wEMyKkQhtI7IkZBmCxTAZ6yfrhDJ-jraErEpOV9kAPXTC5rgV8tBQb3Nrhj_e7LZVT_qfdYn_lCuvFJcntQxam80mmBkHSepSA6UcB3mJUxqp0n2KOQfoZO8spwl/s320/Lining+up+for+the+ride+930+am.jpg" width="320" /></a><span lang="EN" style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The original plan was for all to meet in the archways<i> <b>under the</b> <b>Purple People Bridge</b></i>, a large, open park that would easily handle a large number of riders. Unfortunately the park was occupied by the Cincinnati Flower Show, another iconic spring event. It was too late to move the event so the only option was to meet just outside the gates of the festival…On the sidewalk…Near the road…</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Everyone was courteous to leave the sidewalk as unobstructed as possible but the great weather brought a large number of cyclists. The occasional jogger or baby stroller had to maneuver to get through all of us but, since everyone was enjoying the day, the atmosphere was congenial and they took the large number of brightly clad riders in stride.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzHPCA0RAjblBRxT-po1D-cYvuD21HbGUTO1Ww1B-JSDE0pSpoUNYISQ0F9eGIZc-WyLC4_C9nnyV2XIINerht0BRE455Zz4mt9VOTJr3i-zvvLqZBWPDcDbT0FxO7NriePEtXimvVc_Sf/s1600/Vlo+at+CCC+Spring+open.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzHPCA0RAjblBRxT-po1D-cYvuD21HbGUTO1Ww1B-JSDE0pSpoUNYISQ0F9eGIZc-WyLC4_C9nnyV2XIINerht0BRE455Zz4mt9VOTJr3i-zvvLqZBWPDcDbT0FxO7NriePEtXimvVc_Sf/s200/Vlo+at+CCC+Spring+open.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Velo agreed to appease me and go with the short group, especially since we would have an extra 12 miles or so due to our commute to and from the ride. We headed east on Riverside Dr. toward Lunken Airport. It was a well matched group of riders and we managed to keep pace, single file, in the bike lanes. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC0zJqNzqyCFkQzvMY_qnfu7QyzVHZWwB0mCwo5efKkAI85AuUoU-MWNDCDwM77O3VyRGQXQg3kvwhrZ8Zh6vuBuGesmPfItQBWUtoNYshr-4uSCvDBzv-g2rmNFKmeDBKMtQZYkzsp9i8/s1600/Break+at+Armleder+park.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC0zJqNzqyCFkQzvMY_qnfu7QyzVHZWwB0mCwo5efKkAI85AuUoU-MWNDCDwM77O3VyRGQXQg3kvwhrZ8Zh6vuBuGesmPfItQBWUtoNYshr-4uSCvDBzv-g2rmNFKmeDBKMtQZYkzsp9i8/s320/Break+at+Armleder+park.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">We made it to the halfway point and regrouped at Armleder Park, passing and waving at many other groups of riders on the way. The park was all a bustle with runners, families, dog walkers, and golfers. The trees were laden with colorful blooms and the tulips, animated by the wind, bobbed along the bikeway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIunpBORIn8qpBwFavUUqPVOKWYfDby2bzX4jEaxk8IQXCdj1sgQykdgy-D690SLorFBc7eWm9OtIRd1vAHV61wZxFRFMeffoaairzTOLKlzmYyGYiICZStWvfN3u_CszhXz0ZYAEesCGE/s1600/Velo+and+Mark.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIunpBORIn8qpBwFavUUqPVOKWYfDby2bzX4jEaxk8IQXCdj1sgQykdgy-D690SLorFBc7eWm9OtIRd1vAHV61wZxFRFMeffoaairzTOLKlzmYyGYiICZStWvfN3u_CszhXz0ZYAEesCGE/s320/Velo+and+Mark.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm1EO0AwPy0uDcQzN4EAmKE68VslixfUgMmS89BHzJ2rcuWEfwINh0RX1AodSV1BNbXaq2SRbP5eh1aWiKhANMYy4OEkua6HHVNgFErq8bA0RjMDwHhAAqitAlRGNYhLJSjAoSgC8B4OJm/s1600/Carrel+Station.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm1EO0AwPy0uDcQzN4EAmKE68VslixfUgMmS89BHzJ2rcuWEfwINh0RX1AodSV1BNbXaq2SRbP5eh1aWiKhANMYy4OEkua6HHVNgFErq8bA0RjMDwHhAAqitAlRGNYhLJSjAoSgC8B4OJm/s200/Carrel+Station.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">One wrong turn, which is always compounded with a large group, resulted in a climb up a short hill, crossing some very rough railroad tracks, and a brief stint down a rather bumpy alleyway. No harm, no foul, we were back on track to be one of the first groups to the watering hole. It was smooth sailing to the Purple People Bridge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaJv5ewk0QBAMOqu-3-7nJbn8TDGLQ7B368IfnREAWTZ3PJdzYoAOVWVezX9C7kY88hR8JA5jbm9wJF2xecpav1q7683rS-ttOYD30_1tCxiOTFNoRUIV7hxNVXmu1MK7qWEAUbGp_CY39/s1600/Hofbrau+Haus+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaJv5ewk0QBAMOqu-3-7nJbn8TDGLQ7B368IfnREAWTZ3PJdzYoAOVWVezX9C7kY88hR8JA5jbm9wJF2xecpav1q7683rS-ttOYD30_1tCxiOTFNoRUIV7hxNVXmu1MK7qWEAUbGp_CY39/s320/Hofbrau+Haus+1.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">Hofbrau Haus had just started to buzz with the early spring patrons ready to enjoy a tasty German pint in the outside beer garden. Our little band of cyclists was no different. Velo imbibed in a Hefe Weizen, I in a Dunkel. A sausage platter t share and we were refueled for the commute home.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">There is something truly gratifying about sharing a meal with a group of enthusiastic cyclists. You may not know their names but they become comrades-in-arms none the less.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">After lunch and a little friendly banter with some old and new friends Velo and I readied ourselves for the commute home. It’s nice when you can just jump on the bike to ride home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I guess we will have to wait till next year to answer the question </span><b><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">“How many cyclists fit under the bridge?” - and maybe pay the toll to the troll! </span><o:p></o:p></i></b><br />
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<i>Here's a short video of the short Ride</i><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/r5y7fs_Ss-g" width="560"></iframe><br />
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jacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1902578341804413449.post-20980039126052150142016-04-13T22:53:00.000-04:002016-04-13T22:53:09.293-04:00She Thinks My Bike is Sexy<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWCSjY1uMXGuZHilOMgXuV93CE_bofZN5jjVep_bKoZvP2B5IWOF6qvQaQxnxL8c-GcRQSJIhoNYMGaLEi5jpsEpTY8RKd2ryk1Gykwdnpg8FwAJYVkN2nMYov-uoES4Gy-jVjYKDQv-cY/s1600/bike+collection.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWCSjY1uMXGuZHilOMgXuV93CE_bofZN5jjVep_bKoZvP2B5IWOF6qvQaQxnxL8c-GcRQSJIhoNYMGaLEi5jpsEpTY8RKd2ryk1Gykwdnpg8FwAJYVkN2nMYov-uoES4Gy-jVjYKDQv-cY/s320/bike+collection.jpg" width="320" /></a>I had decided to finish a project at work which put me on track to get home about 45 minutes late. Velo was (im)patiently waiting with a website open showing a local bike show that was going to start in about <b>15 minutes</b>. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Q1: Do you want to go to the bike show?<o:p></o:p></div>
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A1: <i>Duh</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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Q3: Can we load bikes and drive there, find parking, unload bikes, and find the show in time to enter the voting?<o:p></o:p></div>
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A3: <i>Ummmm</i>…Damn<o:p></o:p></div>
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The show was in the Tangeman Student Center at University of Cincinnati. Parking is inconvenient at best and the weather had turned really cold and really wet. The campus itself is not far from home but finding the right garage to park in and then walking across campus for two old blokes not familiar with the layout curbed our enthusiasm, but only slightly.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We compromised and took only one bike. We loaded Velo’s Mercian onto the roof of the Subaru and headed in the general direction of the university. There is constant construction and reconfiguring of the driveways, roundabouts, and streets in and around UC. We, of course, doubled back a time or two before finally sighting the garage we wanted. But wait…we had a bike on the roof! We sort of knew we were going to have to unload the bike before entering the garage, we just didn’t know we would have to do it in the driveway. Solid teamwork resulted in quickly and efficiently removing the bike and securing a convenient parking space.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-uYaWVU-kE1k_X11G-eYusFFKOWw4SY_70DtCpuEHMN63a4vRfRggQshHoxNKxiSd6kA8ZRGhSep8HVhlz5P3KjBnl4oP0ms57wwL1KXkqXINH7-RHzBKozm5rqO7bCewvISzNfhNJWxD/s1600/hirider+TUC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-uYaWVU-kE1k_X11G-eYusFFKOWw4SY_70DtCpuEHMN63a4vRfRggQshHoxNKxiSd6kA8ZRGhSep8HVhlz5P3KjBnl4oP0ms57wwL1KXkqXINH7-RHzBKozm5rqO7bCewvISzNfhNJWxD/s320/hirider+TUC.jpg" width="180" /></a>Feeling good about our accomplishments thus far we began the search for the venue. We walked to the building we knew the show was located in but had one little setback when we realized we had no idea what the design of the building was. This wouldn’t have been too bad except that we didn’t even know the floor, room, or wing we were looking for.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Since when has the lack of vital knowledge ever stopped a cyclist from reaching his destination? Of course we found it and only 30 minutes late for the start of the voting. There was still 90 minutes for the <b>Mercian</b> to be on display.<o:p></o:p></div>
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There are several really cool things about this bike show.</div>
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<li><span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">It is put on by the University of Cincinnati Sustainability Department. </span><a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.uc.edu%2Fsustainability&h=MAQGlqvs9&s=1" style="text-indent: -0.25in;">http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.uc.edu%2Fsustainability&h=MAQGlqvs9&s=1</a></li>
<li><span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Only local bike rentals, shares, co-ops, and teams sponsor it.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">The students have an easy opportunity to show and discuss their bikes with like-minded students and residents.</span></li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc9dm7Q0tD5NWf9rL0Auiaai94GFqu0Cdqr3dMIMChGfakVhyu4QAXE1f_zdq0_oWl-oNjdpHX_XIp_SQp-zzKlUWQHasknGyfL8ZF-hHAkWpm-8stRxhqYQIpYFEOrSmg8ea07rHP-Luv/s1600/Voting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc9dm7Q0tD5NWf9rL0Auiaai94GFqu0Cdqr3dMIMChGfakVhyu4QAXE1f_zdq0_oWl-oNjdpHX_XIp_SQp-zzKlUWQHasknGyfL8ZF-hHAkWpm-8stRxhqYQIpYFEOrSmg8ea07rHP-Luv/s320/Voting.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Velo placed his bike in line with the rest of the specimens. There were single speed, utility, racing, commuting, and custom built bikes of all sorts. <i>Cincinnati Red Bike</i>, our local bike share program, had one of their bikes on display. The <i>UC Bike Share</i> had one there as well. Our local, downtown bike rental and sales, <i>The Garage OTR</i>, had several of their specialty bikes on display. <i>MOBO</i>, an urban bicycle co-op, had a booth, as did <i>UC’s Sustainability</i> folks.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC7TEA9k3B2_PMv3hZBsK66jf26TQly2ppaFRi6-D8lTai60Cn2rTV14T6tgn_y-rlC37k8HmHLex5ucqIcQTN5GosojHYfev6VVkFUDzoXsgYA4K1YWDbIPyNXkj25Q07MxLOFZHZyBLs/s1600/How+he+rolls+-+mark.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC7TEA9k3B2_PMv3hZBsK66jf26TQly2ppaFRi6-D8lTai60Cn2rTV14T6tgn_y-rlC37k8HmHLex5ucqIcQTN5GosojHYfev6VVkFUDzoXsgYA4K1YWDbIPyNXkj25Q07MxLOFZHZyBLs/s320/How+he+rolls+-+mark.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: orange;">Best Utility Bike</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbFqKb7oJbnaW-YndCicRkaHUc1QTz3vf0tdldEDiyoFe60O-cw58ykNH-gqnC-tzESU_7jRRTF6gv295zDMWRfn4pTZDJ4l853CTZfjn_cxbhctERjVt4BZ4uBHq1YJiR3kyGQZ0YfGqA/s1600/Best+Paint+job.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbFqKb7oJbnaW-YndCicRkaHUc1QTz3vf0tdldEDiyoFe60O-cw58ykNH-gqnC-tzESU_7jRRTF6gv295zDMWRfn4pTZDJ4l853CTZfjn_cxbhctERjVt4BZ4uBHq1YJiR3kyGQZ0YfGqA/s320/Best+Paint+job.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: orange;">Best Paint Job</span></td></tr>
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Promptly at 8:00 the ballots were collected and tallied. All of the contestants anxiously awaited the reading of the winners. Those with strong wills and those with fragile egos all waited in trepidation to hear which finely tuned and well-loved machine would bring great pride to its owner.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC67xZBv06d91E4nJNqcjqXNkKtCn4n9RvONVsdpI1K4XF8r67PodvHpJ7k0309D0Hk1UFzzHWo1X1Z2yzgqbjVTVJi5r8xJMhVwpbC_VdQ2XR-dkks4ikDSvmFLq3EjcH3si_d6ZndU8t/s1600/Velo+and+his+sexy+bike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC67xZBv06d91E4nJNqcjqXNkKtCn4n9RvONVsdpI1K4XF8r67PodvHpJ7k0309D0Hk1UFzzHWo1X1Z2yzgqbjVTVJi5r8xJMhVwpbC_VdQ2XR-dkks4ikDSvmFLq3EjcH3si_d6ZndU8t/s320/Velo+and+his+sexy+bike.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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Now, to be honest, I thought Velo’s Mercian would definitely take home a prize. I was banking on best paint job or something of that sort. Well the King of Mercia did not disappoint! But the <b>SEXIEST BIKE</b>?! For real?! For Velo the award, a gift card to <i>Spun Cycles</i>, didn’t even come close to the bragging rights of owning the <b>SEXIEST BIKE</b>.</div>
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Help me out here. Take a minute and describe what you think a SEXY BIKE is in the comments.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Thanks for reading and riding. <o:p></o:p><br />
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jacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1902578341804413449.post-5822628855769547882016-04-05T19:55:00.000-04:002016-04-05T20:02:11.985-04:00After the Storm<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIy-bPJ8FS_2nAr0mX5kZZEA4mg_DF6FR74KufDhxi695-E3UrlzwC7vW89AzVGdcBF3Bv5bg7HcTGdDX0PpogyET3WqN3A0jR94nGwjPvhpuyrMBbREmDMBJE3edbi1BAtkIe9WPzSXA8/s1600/standing+inflowers.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIy-bPJ8FS_2nAr0mX5kZZEA4mg_DF6FR74KufDhxi695-E3UrlzwC7vW89AzVGdcBF3Bv5bg7HcTGdDX0PpogyET3WqN3A0jR94nGwjPvhpuyrMBbREmDMBJE3edbi1BAtkIe9WPzSXA8/s640/standing+inflowers.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">Sunday, April 3<sup>rd</sup>, 2016 produced one hell of a storm, both natural and political. Although I promise not to campaign on this blog, let’s just say there are some opposing viewpoints in my family. As for the wrath of Mother Nature, she showed just how easy it would be for her to obliterate any person or thing in her path regardless of wealth or power. Saturday into Sunday brought evidence of just how mortal we are. Though mild compared to other global catastrophes, Sunday’s storm was a friendly reminder. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhRud0if5uPpqxQP3Z-YZxvU-y18ofj7-U6VkDQ0bK3pqm_umdK_d4NkHMbAdgawYf4x6zKp3pcM2toYmX70_87SgsgRrnEStc3kwz123LG9mLp3YVkczG1E0dEdNhVOwOl3hQCbiD4uZI/s1600/ground+cover.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhRud0if5uPpqxQP3Z-YZxvU-y18ofj7-U6VkDQ0bK3pqm_umdK_d4NkHMbAdgawYf4x6zKp3pcM2toYmX70_87SgsgRrnEStc3kwz123LG9mLp3YVkczG1E0dEdNhVOwOl3hQCbiD4uZI/s320/ground+cover.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">But then something amazing happened. Something that quieted the arguing, something that required not even so much as an utterance from human lips. Sometimes silence is simply the best option.</div><o:p></o:p><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEVEpgv9kii8KCcQEosZFQwBQhgSe8jmaNbjMcqCclfywUQhy2x1PJeUJdtclC6b04Q_wOJEbhMycYCNRHXtgYu4gWYE0oBP1k-1fXmq-4Qtyt2Jv4oSzLnoP3IE_hCtntq7oezwjsnUbA/s1600/Flora+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEVEpgv9kii8KCcQEosZFQwBQhgSe8jmaNbjMcqCclfywUQhy2x1PJeUJdtclC6b04Q_wOJEbhMycYCNRHXtgYu4gWYE0oBP1k-1fXmq-4Qtyt2Jv4oSzLnoP3IE_hCtntq7oezwjsnUbA/s320/Flora+2.JPG" width="320" /></a>Velo and I decided to go for a short, evening ride after the threat of rain was gone. The wind was still a factor, but only one way, right? We rode into the wind first from the Cincinnati Golf Center to the Beechmont Levy, so that we could enjoy the gentle nudging on the way back. “You do your part and I’ll do mine” whispered the wind. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDxkRJpJFsXPXkqRnsozMbT6QHSmwFfbc23Ux-OUTuKGLMa3zl2ethph8jRSGPhqHxSDYCvROQpm0VPMIw3O5gJT6H0TN4yB5tSKQ1EqjBzlmyd-SWaCn0c374ahjktLHXhMt2EZ4K6qIC/s1600/standing+water.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDxkRJpJFsXPXkqRnsozMbT6QHSmwFfbc23Ux-OUTuKGLMa3zl2ethph8jRSGPhqHxSDYCvROQpm0VPMIw3O5gJT6H0TN4yB5tSKQ1EqjBzlmyd-SWaCn0c374ahjktLHXhMt2EZ4K6qIC/s320/standing+water.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz4zeFik8Mj4zYoH2jx4_x21Z1uVFnsILpdpeKBGEI_GxqNdFMuKJDJurLS9tt9lUJJCsADhXvvh1zVGYdinnByZM6bnJs83z9cxidBO4TVhvM2POe_yrTVKyUZqa4gv5xmh_9Dr7tC7tK/s1600/Gunnar.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz4zeFik8Mj4zYoH2jx4_x21Z1uVFnsILpdpeKBGEI_GxqNdFMuKJDJurLS9tt9lUJJCsADhXvvh1zVGYdinnByZM6bnJs83z9cxidBO4TVhvM2POe_yrTVKyUZqa4gv5xmh_9Dr7tC7tK/s320/Gunnar.JPG" width="320" /></a>And with the wind came the bouquet of blooming fruit trees and soggy creek beds. The flora of the ground cover was in its glory, taking advantage of the early spring sunlight before the canopy prevailed.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirM1hByrLPa4Prhk9NI7eVLGX2xsrEtOm_6Pg7xxfgFgw83Q24u60Wd0fCtbCZGPTzQwLtQWVxlbmHRmmiywlyyXG5OHAXIb-tEjqZ-JlDgskKFs_zyVEHsOV2gkNRnyoNeF4ytIxc72pq/s1600/soccer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirM1hByrLPa4Prhk9NI7eVLGX2xsrEtOm_6Pg7xxfgFgw83Q24u60Wd0fCtbCZGPTzQwLtQWVxlbmHRmmiywlyyXG5OHAXIb-tEjqZ-JlDgskKFs_zyVEHsOV2gkNRnyoNeF4ytIxc72pq/s400/soccer.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">The sounds of singing birds returning from their winter residence and laughing children emerging from hibernation vied for the gales to carry their euphoric noise.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">It was a short ride. The sun was still on the upward swing, barely past the spring equinox. This time of year the mercury tends to fall quickly as the daylight wanes. But, as with any bike ride, we forgot about the struggles of the world for a little while. The struggles are very real, but they can wait till I’m done riding. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx7ZlxpzIrElTgSE9eCAwG9syR_yrwWnziNySWz9srYAsJCDHJrudrnfn9mrn8-roS5bz-Uw1UWqRlWIBhImwOE-VLeVe7cwK1LWBcVZ9MuLoiY9xj6nOyfXvEtL0oWt99iOH3um2P07AL/s1600/Red+buds+on+Columbia+Pkwy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx7ZlxpzIrElTgSE9eCAwG9syR_yrwWnziNySWz9srYAsJCDHJrudrnfn9mrn8-roS5bz-Uw1UWqRlWIBhImwOE-VLeVe7cwK1LWBcVZ9MuLoiY9xj6nOyfXvEtL0oWt99iOH3um2P07AL/s640/Red+buds+on+Columbia+Pkwy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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jacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1902578341804413449.post-25218146120559388942016-04-02T12:27:00.001-04:002016-04-29T21:29:42.232-04:00Make New Friends but Keep the Old....<div class="MsoNormal">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTWPMGCQI2QKF07dQm7pWPcuW7NQ6ZuCpc0Ivxj2vCd6OsTaoJo8er538aC3YvpN3tYwGp7gV1UPzlMJA6TRZYDIfQTEjqqGVGCdqbIlJez4C211C_WSPs2x1qpHGryYJt_wgR4BTsZZmJ/s1600/Velo+and+RC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTWPMGCQI2QKF07dQm7pWPcuW7NQ6ZuCpc0Ivxj2vCd6OsTaoJo8er538aC3YvpN3tYwGp7gV1UPzlMJA6TRZYDIfQTEjqqGVGCdqbIlJez4C211C_WSPs2x1qpHGryYJt_wgR4BTsZZmJ/s320/Velo+and+RC.jpg" width="320" /></a>Remember that little ditty from when you were a kid? "<i>Make new friends, but keep the old. Those are silver, these are gold</i>" Well looking for more friends who share a similar interest
as yourself one does not need to look far. The Internet is stock full of people
with the same ideas, hobbies, passions, and quirks. I am not talking about
dating sites, although that is where I met my significant other, VeloJunkie. I
am talking about activity boards, Meetups, and the like. </div>
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So I decided I wanted to find more local cycling groups,
ones that might be a little more in line with my philosophy regarding smelling
the spring wild flowers. Now don’t get me wrong. I love riding with Velo and
his flock of technological, testosterone fueled nerds, but occasionally I don’t
want to be the limiting factor. I like to enjoy the ride while not feeling my
heart beat out of my chest if I don’t want to be left somewhere enroute. Yes,
that has happened.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Easter weekend blessed us with spectacular weather for a
peaceful ride through the rural byways of southwestern Ohio. I found a group of
riders in tune with my style- on the Internet, of course. There is a local
Sierra Club group on “Meetups” that was advertising a good season starter for
anyone who wanted to join. Velo was glad I wanted to ride and gleefully agreed
to tag along with me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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This ride was scheduled to begin at 11:00, another aspect I liked.
I have nothing against the morning people who like to be at the starting line
by the crack of dawn. I am a morning person, too. But my mornings consist of
feeding five dogs, two indoor cats, an outdoor colony of feral kitties, two
goldfish, and one teenager. Oh, and by the way, I like to enjoy a cup of coffee
and maybe a piece of toast, with butter and maybe cinnamon. That crazy Velo ruins his toast with
jelly(Yuck!)<o:p></o:p></div>
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We woke up to a glorious Saturday morning. After spending
several hours with the brood, Velo and I headed to Clermont County to meet our
new friend. I say friend because when we got there only the ride leader was in
sight. Seems everyone else had bailed for various reasons. It was definitely
their loss but understandable. It was a holiday weekend with no shortage of
events in the city, and some mysterious bunny left baskets full of sugary
goodness in the homes of unsuspecting riders.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1kCN6OIVvqxFgIYDl8i7vP9Z5so5x6dwJeU5RuGrffNmK2q0kwZJOddoucrbLHuhCiDTsq4IwwyMAZ7zF1S48AAn3M-dcIvzc3pwcsc6kg8dIEkZQLP9HQbLVekZsD0xKuqOovRL0Jyfa/s1600/Jay+and+Velo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1kCN6OIVvqxFgIYDl8i7vP9Z5so5x6dwJeU5RuGrffNmK2q0kwZJOddoucrbLHuhCiDTsq4IwwyMAZ7zF1S48AAn3M-dcIvzc3pwcsc6kg8dIEkZQLP9HQbLVekZsD0xKuqOovRL0Jyfa/s640/Jay+and+Velo.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Jay, our ride leader, had maps ready and a nice route that
included a stop for lunch. Clermont is much like any other Midwestern county, a
landscape of farm houses and cornfields. The cornfields provoked us to think of
days to come - warm, moist mornings with the musty, lingering aroma of maturing
stalks. As a bonus, southeast Ohio offers a bounty of smooth, flat terrain.
Perfect for a ride to start the season. <o:p></o:p>One small road block didn't hinder our adventure, in fact it made it all the more fun and offered the perfect photo-opp. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirCdfa_pOfF2CgP6-fcsQgvXAgSoz5e8w84DHOANCHy36KBKexAF0bLxIiUKzUwsVVgF1n7cqp3xgpWC1KcKvd58XYLbHoR6rrhNfom0mcP5pOQp0kY4nzE_nfJoExI7FvetbLRlcmYSkk/s1600/lunch+break+at++Coogans+Bluff.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirCdfa_pOfF2CgP6-fcsQgvXAgSoz5e8w84DHOANCHy36KBKexAF0bLxIiUKzUwsVVgF1n7cqp3xgpWC1KcKvd58XYLbHoR6rrhNfom0mcP5pOQp0kY4nzE_nfJoExI7FvetbLRlcmYSkk/s400/lunch+break+at++Coogans+Bluff.jpg" width="223" /></a>We stopped in the quaint town of Newtonsville and grabbed a
snack to enjoy with the lunch we had packed (well Clif Bars, and a peanut
butter sandwich). Velo attempted to
redeem himself when he bought me an oversized “Texas Cinnamon Roll”. We rode another twenty
miles or so with a moving average of about 12 mph, just right for the Reluctant
Cyclist and friends. All the while we were getting to know a little more about
Jay and the rest of the Sierra Club folks who frequent these adventures, bike-
hiking along and observing the native fauna. They move the ride to different
areas of the tristate, with increasing levels of difficulty, as the season matures
and the riders regain muscle, stamina, and confidence lost over the winter.</div>
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I enjoyed myself tremendously and assured Jay we would join
him again sometime. I am also anxious to get out with our long-time riding
cohorts. You never realize how much you miss folks until you don’t see them for
several months. And even if you do see them over the winter it’s just not the
same. They are different people than the ones you know in spandex. The bonus
for me is that when riding season starts, so does blogging season.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGruZmnxSEVF7oPF-dUT0ARhyphenhyphenkv03zglnJ73-V3qJ6DpRo-A0d_MwAeXGUroOfAqazcllgEIai1x1LjxkGhhKYxMmVGOlZAA0pPzNt8PTzpQ7wFPy4mTcq3xZRL3xCIt1CxlHn4pG_IBYI/s1600/lunch+break.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGruZmnxSEVF7oPF-dUT0ARhyphenhyphenkv03zglnJ73-V3qJ6DpRo-A0d_MwAeXGUroOfAqazcllgEIai1x1LjxkGhhKYxMmVGOlZAA0pPzNt8PTzpQ7wFPy4mTcq3xZRL3xCIt1CxlHn4pG_IBYI/s640/lunch+break.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i><o:p> </o:p>Ride to blog. Blog to ride. The Reluctant Cyclist</i></div>
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#cincinnatibybike #newfriends #sierraclubmeetup</div>
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jacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1902578341804413449.post-26325953875473317022016-03-23T16:09:00.001-04:002016-03-23T16:59:57.052-04:00What should I Call My Interactive Conference Session that Involves Work, Cycling, Charity, and Fun<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I have found a way to toss a little bit of cycling fun into the company's conference this year. You see, I work for Projetech, a small IT company that sells a big maintenance software program - IBM's Maximo - in the cloud. We hold a Maximo User Group meeting in Cincinnati each year and I wanted to do something different. Something to get people out of their seats.</o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br />
</o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p>Below is my first write-up for the session. I am struggling with what to call it on the agenda. Please answer the poll or put your suggestions in the comments. I need some help from the right-brain folks here.</o:p></div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal"><i>Here's the write-up:</i><br />
You’ve been in the field of maintenance since Eddy Merckx was winning Tours? Maybe you hold the illustrious title of Maintenance Supervisor, or Maintenance Planner? But can you write a job plan? “Yes” you say? Prove it!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Projetech is having an unprecedented event at this year’s MUG Summit. The event is so prestigious we felt it would only be fair if we brought in some local experts to help. Meet Nate and Kevin from MOBO Bicycles, two self-taught bicycle mechanics. <o:p></o:p></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk4SnVdri4djaGyn6yEhWphWRYPp1yNldbRn9Pf7qbSTUz1-SLacxaWpJndGMfzWrcW0JZtHU2v_iSwITj59ReigRD_vbJP_1Z6Tqo2YrpSQeOoAumfCtjrv2bxNeUOuT5KgpiuQmvQZGx/s1600/Nate+at+MOBO.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk4SnVdri4djaGyn6yEhWphWRYPp1yNldbRn9Pf7qbSTUz1-SLacxaWpJndGMfzWrcW0JZtHU2v_iSwITj59ReigRD_vbJP_1Z6Tqo2YrpSQeOoAumfCtjrv2bxNeUOuT5KgpiuQmvQZGx/s640/Nate+at+MOBO.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Let me explain a little bit about the session, affectionately named “Build-a-Bike” on the agenda. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHKukg99_735YzOnDWaT89_uHrs1U9wkKSzWwUJGrwlFNcGR7_B_oQLGkonvcxp5N0G9J7NKN4QogytVWcUOafS5oYnyZa415GChP9u79joAJMYxq5lgUCuAGN0ffxoUkMktXRymYnjTt8/s1600/mobo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHKukg99_735YzOnDWaT89_uHrs1U9wkKSzWwUJGrwlFNcGR7_B_oQLGkonvcxp5N0G9J7NKN4QogytVWcUOafS5oYnyZa415GChP9u79joAJMYxq5lgUCuAGN0ffxoUkMktXRymYnjTt8/s320/mobo.jpg" width="320" /></a>First, <a href="http://mobobicyclecoop.org/">MOBO</a> is a Bike co-op located in Northside, an urban neighborhood just north of downtown Cincinnati. All those who “work” there do so on their own time. It is all volunteer, but then you can hardly call it work when you’re doing what you love, right? All the bikes they repair are donated. Once the finished bike is roadworthy it is presented to someone who will use it to commute around the city. It is not unusual to see bicyclists pedaling around the urban core of Cincinnati, and ridership is increasing every day.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Second, we will have real bikes here, on-premise (not in the cloud), for you to work on. We know those of you who are used to using your hands and minds on a daily basis will find it excruciatingly difficult to sit all day, much less pay attention to one PowerPoint after another. Take a break! Have some fun! <b>We need you</b>.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Third, all the bikes used for this recreational exercise will be given to MOBO at the end of the conference so that they can put them to good use. Now you can have fun, learn something about bikes, and do something good for somebody you will never meet, but who will be forever grateful. <o:p></o:p></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">You’re asking, “So where does the job plan fit into all this?” You’ll just have to sign up to find out. But here are a few hints:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiNocNORn0dIDwcqgHaLrV6BpSP4VSAuzFQ9gnAaXMK7WsA3wLF3EXy9-z_9UKrXHPW-XbizEfCAhVLvY6S4WeFUd6h2vDyVxoDffqwH1rcBduqVHVx0QRZXaXkzNpYezb5vCQ_sjOD0OA/s1600/forks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiNocNORn0dIDwcqgHaLrV6BpSP4VSAuzFQ9gnAaXMK7WsA3wLF3EXy9-z_9UKrXHPW-XbizEfCAhVLvY6S4WeFUd6h2vDyVxoDffqwH1rcBduqVHVx0QRZXaXkzNpYezb5vCQ_sjOD0OA/s400/forks.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="400" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-1JEMOA42WO4iKRQHDQ4ZNaJRjFqnP0o0ZM9yJ2qcKCOqeQSppI5kA372I4U1QvzOD57_BNWMRGq9MTA0QjltVvlj1IhRrzJqgcP-TsMygm1E7DQgETaxrg-40E7O-1JoGJ5tI25k4qFx/s1600/MOBO+Nuts+and+bolts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-1JEMOA42WO4iKRQHDQ4ZNaJRjFqnP0o0ZM9yJ2qcKCOqeQSppI5kA372I4U1QvzOD57_BNWMRGq9MTA0QjltVvlj1IhRrzJqgcP-TsMygm1E7DQgETaxrg-40E7O-1JoGJ5tI25k4qFx/s640/MOBO+Nuts+and+bolts.jpg" width="356" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkKKvypbP0pJBq0s-8R73LYuOc3ejNABnIEgqStL4lqwZ8a1aluCVSrMChYlVOcXlRhd2jy3HYeNnC7m_S3b14zVYsE5sqKF6I8v2AQ4uZRaASV-Y5o5tbm1l908ihVwgBSRhDLAaCbeL6/s1600/handlebars.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkKKvypbP0pJBq0s-8R73LYuOc3ejNABnIEgqStL4lqwZ8a1aluCVSrMChYlVOcXlRhd2jy3HYeNnC7m_S3b14zVYsE5sqKF6I8v2AQ4uZRaASV-Y5o5tbm1l908ihVwgBSRhDLAaCbeL6/s400/handlebars.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And, by all means, if you have the pleasure of working with Maximo in your daily grind, register for the conference at <a href="http://www.mugsummit.com/">www.mugsummit.com</a></div></div><br />
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jacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1902578341804413449.post-55089501068071250872016-02-13T10:53:00.000-05:002016-02-13T10:53:03.358-05:00Breakfast or Breweries (or Both)<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqhaoJHP8sWreZfuHFfuhsjCnNtu2_A8T-P0Ww9HKVU9ILD8ZIM8MXvz4k78omSRpTWSwTm4T9o-hppQQg8MyhIT1vh6BbcaBfRX2gStUSDHrcqLcKvEVEtGXz2Qml22h3MLuX_3kh5YwI/s1600/blogger-image--1261619408.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqhaoJHP8sWreZfuHFfuhsjCnNtu2_A8T-P0Ww9HKVU9ILD8ZIM8MXvz4k78omSRpTWSwTm4T9o-hppQQg8MyhIT1vh6BbcaBfRX2gStUSDHrcqLcKvEVEtGXz2Qml22h3MLuX_3kh5YwI/s400/blogger-image--1261619408.jpg" width="400" /></a>We can all thank Mother Nature that I finally have material for the blog. I know it is worse to write nonsense than to refrain from publishing anything at all, but I was getting very close to putting out another philosophical, inconsequential blurb. Thanks to the weather gods, I had two weekends in row that I put aside my disdain for the bitter cold with the knowledge that the mercury would climb before the ride was over. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqhaoJHP8sWreZfuHFfuhsjCnNtu2_A8T-P0Ww9HKVU9ILD8ZIM8MXvz4k78omSRpTWSwTm4T9o-hppQQg8MyhIT1vh6BbcaBfRX2gStUSDHrcqLcKvEVEtGXz2Qml22h3MLuX_3kh5YwI/s640/blogger-image--1261619408.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: rgba(255 , 255 , 255 , 0); margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6I3fQg0fssYrSk41rQBpDr7YbRt2p3fpiYWhfeSaxpr7vJ9zG1IflE9wWPrVyW-DdrnmOUUmq_dOuAL1fsdfhGtPuSQooTBNRr1m9a8O8n6cVNMFrKsi_RxJHpE43sDKEhuAFWg6yxh9W/s640/blogger-image-455628166.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6I3fQg0fssYrSk41rQBpDr7YbRt2p3fpiYWhfeSaxpr7vJ9zG1IflE9wWPrVyW-DdrnmOUUmq_dOuAL1fsdfhGtPuSQooTBNRr1m9a8O8n6cVNMFrKsi_RxJHpE43sDKEhuAFWg6yxh9W/s400/blogger-image-455628166.jpg" width="400" /></a>The forecast for the last day of January was nearly 50⁰F. I had a hankering for a broiled grapefruit and we hadn’t been to Half Day Café since the onset of winter. The restaurant is located in the City of Wyoming, a small city just north of Cincinnati. We were not the only jubilant cyclists enjoying the weather. Upon reaching our destination we came across the Half Day Cycling Club, most of whom would ride at temperatures far below my threshold.</div>
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I made a short video of the ride, but honestly, it was just a nice ride on a nice day. You can’t ask for more than that on January 31st in the good, old Midwest.<br />
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February 6th didn’t hold as much promise as the previous weekend, as far as weather was concerned, however last weekend’s ride paled in comparison to the grand tour Velo Junkie had concocted for his special day. He came equipped with cue sheets for a 50 mile loop that encompassed four breweries and several climbs. I was feeling a little more than reluctant. Apprehensive was a better word. Velo had wanted to ride from the house to the start, which would have meant we had to ride home after the event, for a total of 60 miles. I squashed that idea merely by giving him the “<i>don’t-make-me-have-to-hurt-you” look.</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijyfuAhzSnS350Ln5V1lWyAJNQ-0t1V16EnYJUxhvO6mh8nyvRarVg0M9X-UjRceFkTdYNRcWX2GVGFJStcQX14uvWjpaJe5xaeDa1So1ualMxXKNhElFft5veb68BXFUXoSEUMGxWTHWC/s640/blogger-image-300310912.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijyfuAhzSnS350Ln5V1lWyAJNQ-0t1V16EnYJUxhvO6mh8nyvRarVg0M9X-UjRceFkTdYNRcWX2GVGFJStcQX14uvWjpaJe5xaeDa1So1ualMxXKNhElFft5veb68BXFUXoSEUMGxWTHWC/s400/blogger-image-300310912.jpg" width="400" /></a>We secured the bikes on top of the Subaru so we could start along with the rest of the group. Funny story, we got to the parking lot and the ticket dispenser was out of tickets. Whoever heard of the paking lot not having tickets? There was no way to get the gate to go up, which explained why the parking lot was completely void of any vehicles. Our only option – the garage, with a 7” clearance. Velo is pretty brilliant most of the time. I think he was still stewing about not getting to ride to the start that he made the odd decision to stop the car and turn on the hazard lights in the garage entry lane. It pained me to keep my gender-superior comments to myself as he removed the bikes from the car while several other cars had to maneuver around us to enter the garage, including some of the other riders.<br />
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I think we were the only people out on that cold morning. I must mention the camaraderie among Velo and his friends. Jim, Mike, Jeff, and even my son, Urban Pedaler, and his friend, Nick, came out to celebrate the Aquarian’s birthday. As we were gearing up in the parking garage Velo was rallying the troops, trying to contain his excitement at the turnout on such an unfavorable day.<br />
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An easy thirteen-mile ride to Rivertown Brewery, one of my favs. A quick beer and photo and we were off to the next one. There was a moderate amount of distance and a large amount of elevation between Rivertown and 50 West Brewery. The sun was shining unapologetically and I was overheating on the hills. I was glad I dressed in layers and could start shedding them, but those damn, full-finger gloves. They were keeping my hands way too steamy.<br />
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What goes up, must come down and the downhill coasting was exhilarating. I had fun in the back filming Urban Pedaler and his friend. I don’t think either had ever soared down Indian Hill before so they were descending in childlike bliss. </div>
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After a meatball hoagie and a beer at 50 West my soul was ready to call it quits. My hunger was quashed and my brain had decided it was nice and comfy. Unfortunately I had to get back in the saddle if I wanted to get back to the Subaru. I slowed to a snail’s pace on the hill just a quarter mile west of the Brewery and I never regained enthusiasm. I motored on like a troll on a tractor, each revolution making my legs feel heavier than the last.<br />
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Getting stuck alone at several lights and missing a turn, my beautiful, sunny, fun-filled day turned into drudgery. Urban Pedaler hung back with me until we were both unsure which way the group had turned. A quick phone call, a plea for help, and Velo retrieved us. He came upon us laughing because we were a mere block away. Next stop, Blank Slate Brewery. By the time we finished, the sun was getting lower in the sky. My spirits had lifted but my energy had not. I knew my way back to the car so I released the group of their pity for me and made up my mind I would finish, but at my pace. This wasn’t a bonk, mentally I could keep going. This was the result of lack of training during the winter. Dumb, dumb, dumb.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYNiAUG0A8f9iBIlf5Et1x91gTV8frk10Qhl3x6XOD4nzuhx_AaUU_Iu3L-M9OwdRxMtt2Fs_bRcuP3cm5ZRvJ4MdDAr2xMVdXnmmjNPxZc213htMluvsUDVa9_nTgHCZyxWaIOsd_3cbx/s640/blogger-image-15270879.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYNiAUG0A8f9iBIlf5Et1x91gTV8frk10Qhl3x6XOD4nzuhx_AaUU_Iu3L-M9OwdRxMtt2Fs_bRcuP3cm5ZRvJ4MdDAr2xMVdXnmmjNPxZc213htMluvsUDVa9_nTgHCZyxWaIOsd_3cbx/s640/blogger-image-15270879.jpg" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbGqXEtQ0pJZ9J-4dE43weABxyVd53cuDRSvrdP-pHvY1c-hP4pPUt01P0WWj2ma1VY8wud8uQKLotlUEF8mhtjlM4GxWr2RfvbxqsPRyE99KDB2g-39EGh7kbeszL-WZtj2Hwhr6Xn3IY/s640/blogger-image-1912517846.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbGqXEtQ0pJZ9J-4dE43weABxyVd53cuDRSvrdP-pHvY1c-hP4pPUt01P0WWj2ma1VY8wud8uQKLotlUEF8mhtjlM4GxWr2RfvbxqsPRyE99KDB2g-39EGh7kbeszL-WZtj2Hwhr6Xn3IY/s400/blogger-image-1912517846.jpg" width="400" /></a>Urban Pedaler's friend was worried about me so far behind with the sun setting. He rode the last mile with me back to the Lager House. I would have bought him a beer at the end for his empathy but he couldn’t stay. Oh the sweet feeling of success, feeble as it was, rewarded by yet another beer in the warmth of a pub, surrounded by the beautiful view of the Roebling Bridge.<br />
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#halfdaycycling #halfdaycafe #rivertown #moerleinlagerhouse #urbanpedaler #velojunkie #blankslatebrewing #50westbrewingjacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1902578341804413449.post-48359352843028374962016-01-25T18:55:00.000-05:002016-01-26T16:11:45.185-05:00Riding Vicariously (or "When Pigs Ride")<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
This framed art adequately depicts my endearment of cycling in the cold. "When Pigs Ride"</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #3b3b3b; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Jeni Jenkins of Uncaged Bird Print and Design Studio</span></span></td></tr>
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First I must express my apologies. I have been writing this blog since July and have attained a good number of followers. I have tried to describe at least one ride per week, or some other event involving bicycles. I hope you will forgive me for being void of any cycling shenanigans, but it is January (stated with tears streaming down my cheeks). I am the Reluctant Cyclist, and, as the name implies, it takes some urging to get me moving, especially in inclement weather.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;"><span data-reactid=".2.1.0.0.2.1.0.0.1">Salsa Full Suspension Bucksaw 2 Courtesy Jim's Bicycle Shop </span></span></td></tr>
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I know there are those of you who wait for the whims of Old Man Winter. You bring out your fat bikes and your gravel bikes and adorn yourselves in lobster gloves, balaclavas, Gore jackets and winter boots. I, on the other hand, prefer to sleep in on winter weekends, especially when the temperatures can’t surmount freezing. </div>
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I have collected a list of reasons to shy away from pedaling in the foul weather. I will kindly share my rationalizations in the event any of you would rather put your feet up and enjoy a latte rather than exert yourself in a possibly ill attempt of enjoying winter.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Obvious excuses:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Fear of slipping on the ice <o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Poor visibility<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Too cold<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Threat of hypothermia<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->I have the flu<o:p></o:p></div>
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Not so obvious excuses:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Excruciating pain in my teeth caused by the icy wind<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Snot rockets are more frequent and dangerous<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Salt on the road is bad for my bike<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->I have to keep the fire going at home<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->The snow is prettier looking out from inside<o:p></o:p></div>
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I do have one vice, though. I can live vicariously through the cycling addict I affectionately call Velo Junkie, or Velo for short. For every excuse I have for <b><i>not</i></b> riding, he has one <b><i>for</i></b> riding. The only things that will ground Velo are heavy precipitation and sub-zero temperatures. Even then I occasionally have to talk sense into his stubborn crank-head.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We have come to an unspoken agreement. During winter weekends I will generally walk 5 to 7 miles and he will ride somewhere. As much as I would like to be rolling, strolling is more my style when hazards are present. Velo, on the other hand – well, let’s just say he’s crazy.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Here are just a few pictures of his winter wandering I lifted from his social posts.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eli's Barbeque</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE03DaoRHSR89Yz1uEWqyuYvhS0LjA1EGbLEiO4Vjs3t-OixPsbMQHWz03CdRJ7x4JvzKXP2czfaB-eKM8qZWoGwt_efh1WFdQiuKO1t8husnnJJmVyRkpatb5lEhcpx5Fi0rlTXl4oCp5/s1600/160116_St.+Stephen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE03DaoRHSR89Yz1uEWqyuYvhS0LjA1EGbLEiO4Vjs3t-OixPsbMQHWz03CdRJ7x4JvzKXP2czfaB-eKM8qZWoGwt_efh1WFdQiuKO1t8husnnJJmVyRkpatb5lEhcpx5Fi0rlTXl4oCp5/s320/160116_St.+Stephen.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjciq4yz4qmd4NhFQXFHhK7GhiX98j9k0l5RGyLomSBUWeug_lKvOWwjNaPuBdZwkpB7r6DrEadXL13O-HehHlQKkb_jnKcVu6_XX1fzdLw6WBvIvF2v5XN6_GEe82eiI_zf_sFjj0Tpke9/s1600/160123+Blank+Slate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjciq4yz4qmd4NhFQXFHhK7GhiX98j9k0l5RGyLomSBUWeug_lKvOWwjNaPuBdZwkpB7r6DrEadXL13O-HehHlQKkb_jnKcVu6_XX1fzdLw6WBvIvF2v5XN6_GEe82eiI_zf_sFjj0Tpke9/s320/160123+Blank+Slate.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blank Slate Brewing</td></tr>
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Fortunately, for me, the forecast is looking promising next weekend. Thank goodness. I need some blog material. I may just bundle up and go for a ride.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg60xMqB6dQuoqTS_22Hj7BO9QTCiB11wah-D_kx_SOzu96EZHSuPHGZ78wmilMAGtDoI092GJ_MBsWJMSecb9WRFtBKD0oAxdOaVrgc_oFBT6Kw9P_3tBNeOWIKG8GgZbAvybGrmUauY0X/s1600/2013-03-20+19.31.51.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg60xMqB6dQuoqTS_22Hj7BO9QTCiB11wah-D_kx_SOzu96EZHSuPHGZ78wmilMAGtDoI092GJ_MBsWJMSecb9WRFtBKD0oAxdOaVrgc_oFBT6Kw9P_3tBNeOWIKG8GgZbAvybGrmUauY0X/s200/2013-03-20+19.31.51.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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#whenpigsride #willrideforbeer #willrideforfood #crankhead #snotrocketsjacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1902578341804413449.post-26798149925945630342016-01-13T21:43:00.002-05:002016-01-17T18:05:38.778-05:00My Many Moods of January (In Only Two Weeks)<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinTH7P74mJClP0PqlIHyavOtjMwM2ufcFr52g2nebXSMYypiej2tfREaSc9vceZxpnhfOjpGsygCvQVKbwxnlUt_bk-Tr9oYqoMImzHeCiCXKGJUNSlz8t68qyvUAAgzr3ZZxOGHO23wjM/s1600/160101_dancing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinTH7P74mJClP0PqlIHyavOtjMwM2ufcFr52g2nebXSMYypiej2tfREaSc9vceZxpnhfOjpGsygCvQVKbwxnlUt_bk-Tr9oYqoMImzHeCiCXKGJUNSlz8t68qyvUAAgzr3ZZxOGHO23wjM/s320/160101_dancing.jpg" width="320" /></a>Winter didn’t arrive in Cincinnati till almost the second week of January and I made the most out of the first fourteen days of the year. Even with the unseasonably warm weather we only managed to get one bike ride in. It was not a long ride, nor an exceptionally eventful one, but a ride just the same. <o:p></o:p><br />
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During the first two weeks of the year the “mood-o-meter” around my house pegged at both extremes, exuberance and despair. OK, maybe not that dramatic, but let’s just go through the ups and downs one at a time.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGejvnWB-_p7-dfKivBn0Y1s68jxAk31my7rFwd7aycmh5qBGVzLhzyO3v04uH9einuMuno6HoUT2oGjNlJp4XIEEX2ZmWuk35Ze8IDk0Rx9nVssX7lDswTfHWeH8KTGHK_KwHLVbifghg/s1600/160101_auld+lang+syne.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGejvnWB-_p7-dfKivBn0Y1s68jxAk31my7rFwd7aycmh5qBGVzLhzyO3v04uH9einuMuno6HoUT2oGjNlJp4XIEEX2ZmWuk35Ze8IDk0Rx9nVssX7lDswTfHWeH8KTGHK_KwHLVbifghg/s320/160101_auld+lang+syne.jpg" width="320" /></a>You know from my previous post that we hailed in the New Year with a wedding. Having the whole family in town to croon Auld Lang Syne at midnight was a treasure to behold. We celebrated with the Bride and Groom, taking full advantage of the open bar. Overall, the feeling on January 1<sup>st</sup> was jubilant, albeit very sluggish.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQD0VO8RryCb0pPHXGeCMSji7sMYCPt58gzCHokNplxotUv_B_Agr4JtgWErALjz_RyrYCFSH1y5cMXKSSg1cKqLu1W_RkTiEGCXcmG3aUTu-y3u3Cb44aGy7UNSWXRr_6LaYu44_1_nho/s1600/160102_broken+pipe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQD0VO8RryCb0pPHXGeCMSji7sMYCPt58gzCHokNplxotUv_B_Agr4JtgWErALjz_RyrYCFSH1y5cMXKSSg1cKqLu1W_RkTiEGCXcmG3aUTu-y3u3Cb44aGy7UNSWXRr_6LaYu44_1_nho/s200/160102_broken+pipe.jpg" width="200" /></a>January 2<sup>nd</sup> wasn’t so jubilant. As a matter of fact it took a major downturn when we went to fix a leak in the ceiling only to find the stack pipe corroded along the entire horizontal section. The house is over 100 years old and we don’t know when the plumbing was added. Between the house shifting over the years, the shoddy pluming work, and sitting vacant for several winters, water had apparently pooled in the old cast iron pipe and, well the rest is history… I will spare you what the bathroom looked like after he pulled the pipe and just show you the pipe itself.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO409lQI4Hw6oYby3zYQ_fHVF16S9EeKC_efkQPBCmcyjnYpOpkvUAoQaHhxpXzwk14ypy2MmFmvzhM8IoZBIlBZ3PICnK06eT7Z-hKtJzbPGH0uV-yoaZ3h4SOwcXESTp5OWLSgmpN4hk/s1600/160103_Old+St.+Mary%2527s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO409lQI4Hw6oYby3zYQ_fHVF16S9EeKC_efkQPBCmcyjnYpOpkvUAoQaHhxpXzwk14ypy2MmFmvzhM8IoZBIlBZ3PICnK06eT7Z-hKtJzbPGH0uV-yoaZ3h4SOwcXESTp5OWLSgmpN4hk/s400/160103_Old+St.+Mary%2527s.jpg" width="400" /></a>January 3<sup>rd</sup> was a Sunday and covered a range of emotions. My mom, who had adored Mary, the <o:p></o:p></div>
Blessed Mother, had passed away in 2015. As a sort of tribute I have been going to St. Mary’s Church to keep a candle lit as a vigil to her. The Church was beautifully decorated for Christmas so this Sunday’s Mass was a glorious yet solemn affair. Per our traditional ritual during the season we bid God and Mom fairwell for the week and headed to Taft’s Ale House for football. Our Bengals were triumphant and on to the play-offs.<br />
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After Sunday the week fell in line with post-holiday humdrums. Even though the temperatures were tolerable, the days were too short to delight in any cycling after work. Instead, all I could do was watch and re-watch my year in Strava. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Friday, January 8<sup>th</sup> was an up day and the office crowd was all abuzz about the record PowerBall lottery jackpot. Everyone had different plans for when we won our riches. Rescuing dogs, buying cars, and building estates to name a few. The heavy burden of buying the office numbers fell on me. How could I face my colleagues if I failed to pick the winning ticket? Fortunately I was spared the agonizing embarrassment because, once again, there was no winning ticket sold. Read all about it on our company blog <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/when-we-win-lottery-jacquie-keith-chischillie?trk=pulse_spock-articles">here</a>.<o:p></o:p></div>
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January 9<sup>th</sup> was another day that covered the spread of the meter. In the late morning the weather was pleasing so Velo Junkie and I went for a ride. The nice weather also brought out the tailgating camps around Paul Brown Stadium. People had begun consuming alcoholic beverages at 1:00 for an 8:00 game. Oy vey.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKkfkMeL6ldvDNtyCJXB7dP6H4fO9HvfgKgmvrlQ4UrnlYukzVGS63Gca6ijNGgkzQ2Me3jw8WMs289lbwGkiX0QH6TWv2FREQz7ZxvqFxBAfUaFdlxK2TKXwF5vez53AxUMnypB0EA790/s1600/160109_Carabello+sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="163" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKkfkMeL6ldvDNtyCJXB7dP6H4fO9HvfgKgmvrlQ4UrnlYukzVGS63Gca6ijNGgkzQ2Me3jw8WMs289lbwGkiX0QH6TWv2FREQz7ZxvqFxBAfUaFdlxK2TKXwF5vez53AxUMnypB0EA790/s200/160109_Carabello+sign.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDwJuwjqfF4DLXDpnZqK55ih4lzgCQ3LXEOb8IGNpBIDi9-OIDrGMK3rGG4-kV5llyJEPSULmg8tDDWQDKutVMesgft0fVu-4wE7Gjk3dEecYG88r3PUw1_xvTCW2OTooYjQYt0X6XSlOl/s1600/160109_Carabello.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDwJuwjqfF4DLXDpnZqK55ih4lzgCQ3LXEOb8IGNpBIDi9-OIDrGMK3rGG4-kV5llyJEPSULmg8tDDWQDKutVMesgft0fVu-4wE7Gjk3dEecYG88r3PUw1_xvTCW2OTooYjQYt0X6XSlOl/s320/160109_Carabello.jpg" width="320" /></a>I reluctantly ventured downtown and across the river to Carabello’s Coffee. Honestly I was worried about the hordes of football tailgaters we might encounter downtown. Much to my dismay, my fear was confirmed when a large group of disrespectful, jersey-clad, inconsiderate, party-goers crossed the street against the light, forcing Velo and I to brake in order to avoid a collision. Luckily, my super-hero reflexes kicked in and the catastrophe was thwarted. </div>
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I rode the Salsa with my new, shiny fenders because there was still a bit of standing water about. We had a peaceful lunch before heading back when we came across a herd of wooly mammoths gracefully grazing on the side of the road.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiODJG-Xc_qL_WqUz6mSgEfTumVUe-wXOCZ0MV_sF-Fxj57l05Dhu5Lggp2DPz9GHSTScmIC-Lst03TBSHh6rxn1ks-fyl36hCbsErHtTXJ2xOt9X3kBVCdRgEosRxAdLBrx68akB3pP6se/s1600/160109_Getting+ready+for+the+game.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="112" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiODJG-Xc_qL_WqUz6mSgEfTumVUe-wXOCZ0MV_sF-Fxj57l05Dhu5Lggp2DPz9GHSTScmIC-Lst03TBSHh6rxn1ks-fyl36hCbsErHtTXJ2xOt9X3kBVCdRgEosRxAdLBrx68akB3pP6se/s200/160109_Getting+ready+for+the+game.jpg" width="200" /></a>After an uneventful yet enjoyable ride Velo and I needed to eat dinner and get ready for the evening. We had tickets for the Bengals’ game against the Steelers. The weatherman was predicting heavy rain and falling temps. Good thing we have a cycling wardrobe for all weather of which several layers fit nicely under the team gear.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The game started slow. The mood turned dark when the Steeler’s scored. There was a whole lot of hugging and yelling when the Bengal’s moved ahead. Ultimately the game was decided by the officials, the Bengals were out of contention, and we were drenched to the bone. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhava86C2_8QSgoJLPIHOW-8y77WoJfLMvGtrn6DxglGE6qAkH_cwrE43cSs9xmqzG2c8eG_Z4ldPhm0IfPHeSlTz_bcoFgFUG9txzTO5QDOkZY9DrbZ8J2vpSoonJB5K8MHM0U9LF7gZi9/s1600/160111_Goblin+King.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhava86C2_8QSgoJLPIHOW-8y77WoJfLMvGtrn6DxglGE6qAkH_cwrE43cSs9xmqzG2c8eG_Z4ldPhm0IfPHeSlTz_bcoFgFUG9txzTO5QDOkZY9DrbZ8J2vpSoonJB5K8MHM0U9LF7gZi9/s320/160111_Goblin+King.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>
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January 11<sup>th</sup> cast a melancholy mood across the globe when we found out The Goblin King had passed from this life. R.I.P. Mr. Bowie, Ziggy Stardust, and your many other personas.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcB5q9OuahihSpnVkm34L4YeW9Kv-sFlpoylYm6npOOsFpSdNlZbIdWIpeEP5R0PsOQQ4EYjrk1qSXkDy6TVCd3ARuqnoqZ5NV1JhLZCkd50eqX61sT0rdI9jG4YF1KVlK0Z4Le-DPa0Q8/s1600/160112_frozen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcB5q9OuahihSpnVkm34L4YeW9Kv-sFlpoylYm6npOOsFpSdNlZbIdWIpeEP5R0PsOQQ4EYjrk1qSXkDy6TVCd3ARuqnoqZ5NV1JhLZCkd50eqX61sT0rdI9jG4YF1KVlK0Z4Le-DPa0Q8/s320/160112_frozen.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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January 12<sup>th</sup> was no brighter. The world is full of heartless idiots and, try as we may, we sometimes cannot impart compassion. My state has no recourse for animals left chained in the cold. With temperatures dipping into the single digits I tried to get this man to take his dog in. I contacted the SPCA who paid him a visit. I lay awake that night praying for his poor, freezing pup and gave each of my pups an extra hug. I can only presume he took his poor pit bull in because he survived the night. My sister saw him back out on his chain the next day.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLgaghYirMwG3sgk6v_mOuIzvRVp8db2RcycYp7Kf726Lz3amPkxJ-zuqCDfuCxihUyPPpcQF9e1Y291yBGZN5MNiqkFIerqn14KQBztTwcQLkrjaWRSf2uN37Thvb0B6EkSXc3yMm0wd5/s1600/160109_Jim+daisy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLgaghYirMwG3sgk6v_mOuIzvRVp8db2RcycYp7Kf726Lz3amPkxJ-zuqCDfuCxihUyPPpcQF9e1Y291yBGZN5MNiqkFIerqn14KQBztTwcQLkrjaWRSf2uN37Thvb0B6EkSXc3yMm0wd5/s320/160109_Jim+daisy.jpg" width="179" /></a>January 13<sup>th</sup> – Nine years ago today I met Velo Junkie, my partner in life, love, and cycling. He has a way of making me laugh. And, even though I wonder what I did to deserve this crazy person, he always serenades me with some romantic ballad of which he has morbidly twisted the words. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Tonight was no exception:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(To the tune of “Danny’s Song”)<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<i>Even though our eggs are runny<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>Doesn’t mean our food is funny </i></div>
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<i>Tell me every day our bread is gonna be all white</i></div>
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#thereluctantcyclist #velojunkie #whodey #cincinnatibengals #lifelovecycling #thegoblinking #woolymammoth #yearinstrava #auldlangsyne #salsavaya #carabellocoffeejacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1902578341804413449.post-90518579027076369122016-01-02T11:48:00.000-05:002016-01-02T12:08:44.076-05:00Velo Junkie’s Rapha Festive 500 Challenge<div style="text-align: left;">
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2KDu-o1Vz9O5bXRpcBzO3XrxWm12MpSHZCiRwxg1YRQj7_ZmnxhhiD_29RBSuCmkokF5CeylhyphenhyphenLGUo096Pvd6Ehooxk4Q5_xDnlndzfrgHGCwif_-uX8-iygCSR_9ggJbTXgjinSGVKHM/s1600/rapha.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2KDu-o1Vz9O5bXRpcBzO3XrxWm12MpSHZCiRwxg1YRQj7_ZmnxhhiD_29RBSuCmkokF5CeylhyphenhyphenLGUo096Pvd6Ehooxk4Q5_xDnlndzfrgHGCwif_-uX8-iygCSR_9ggJbTXgjinSGVKHM/s200/rapha.png" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">http://pages.rapha.cc/festive-500-2015</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Happy New Year All. </div>
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You are probably wondering why I am
writing about Velo Junkie’s adventure instead of my own. Well, While Velo was
out gallivanting around southwest Ohio on two wheels, the Reluctant Cyclist had
a very long list of other challenges that had an end date of December 31rst. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I want to share this year-end ordeal because I am very proud
and a little envious of his determination. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgttESDrm7zUi7J40shAFJw1NaJ7GrPuriI0GQYHD_BZcRs95MsijEDTp8-_aEQbFFSARNPJwrm0XA0MxKeX1DUApnFsFB_3Y0rkkOKSTi-a38SIQOF_J4ia0PKeRUcAGyquFiSFLwrrNeV/s1600/ethan+and+noni.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgttESDrm7zUi7J40shAFJw1NaJ7GrPuriI0GQYHD_BZcRs95MsijEDTp8-_aEQbFFSARNPJwrm0XA0MxKeX1DUApnFsFB_3Y0rkkOKSTi-a38SIQOF_J4ia0PKeRUcAGyquFiSFLwrrNeV/s400/ethan+and+noni.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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The Rapha Festive 500 is an annual
challenge to ride your bike 500 km over the days between Christmas Eve and New
Year’s Eve. I probably would never
commit to the challenge even if I didn’t have a son and a daughter who were
both in a New Year’s Eve wedding. Maybe I worry too much, but I guess that is
what mom’s do. I was determined to make sure my kids were on time for every
scheduled event, had the proper attire and accessories, and looked absolutely
stunning when the time came.<br />
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<o:p></o:p><br />
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If we compare notes from the week it’s obvious why I
couldn’t complete the challenge even if I had wanted to.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<table border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoTableGrid" style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184; width: 660px;">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 63.45pt;" valign="top" width="85"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Day<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
<td style="border-left: none; border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 84.8pt;" valign="top" width="113"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Date<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
<td style="border-left: none; border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 166.5pt;" valign="top" width="222"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Velo<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
<td style="border-left: none; border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 2.5in;" valign="top" width="240"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Reluctant Cyclist<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="border-top: none; border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 63.45pt;" valign="top" width="85"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Thursday<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
<td style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 84.8pt;" valign="top" width="113"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
December 24<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
<td style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 166.5pt;" valign="top" width="222"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
28 miles, 60 degrees, sunny,
Christmas Eve dinner<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
<td style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 2.5in;" valign="top" width="240"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Work, Christmas Eve dinner with family<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="border-top: none; border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 63.45pt;" valign="top" width="85"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Friday<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
<td style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 84.8pt;" valign="top" width="113"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
December 25<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
<td style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 166.5pt;" valign="top" width="222"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
28 miles to Waffle House,
50’s, rain<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
<td style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 2.5in;" valign="top" width="240"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Rode to Waffle House with Velo<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="border-top: none; border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 63.45pt;" valign="top" width="85"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Saturday<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
<td style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 84.8pt;" valign="top" width="113"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
December 26<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
<td style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 166.5pt;" valign="top" width="222"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
37 miles, 50’s, light rain<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
<td style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 2.5in;" valign="top" width="240"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Pick up daughter, Grocery shopping<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="border-top: none; border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 63.45pt;" valign="top" width="85"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Monday<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
<td style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 84.8pt;" valign="top" width="113"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
December 28<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
<td style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 166.5pt;" valign="top" width="222"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
42 miles, 45 degrees, pouring rain<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
<td style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 2.5in;" valign="top" width="240"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Work, accessory shopping for wedding<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="border-top: none; border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 63.45pt;" valign="top" width="85"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Tuesday<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
<td style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 84.8pt;" valign="top" width="113"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
December 29<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
<td style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 166.5pt;" valign="top" width="222"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
63.9 miles, 55 degrees, windy, overcast, dinner with family, movie<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
<td style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 2.5in;" valign="top" width="240"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Work, pick up bow tie for son, dinner with family, movie<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="border-top: none; border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 63.45pt;" valign="top" width="85"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Wednesday<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
<td style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 84.8pt;" valign="top" width="113"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
December 30<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
<td style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 166.5pt;" valign="top" width="222"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
68.4 miles, 50’s, overcast, wedding rehearsal dinner<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
<td style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 2.5in;" valign="top" width="240"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Work, wedding rehearsal dinner<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="border-top: none; border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 63.45pt;" valign="top" width="85"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Thursday<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
<td style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 84.8pt;" valign="top" width="113"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
December 31<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
<td style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 166.5pt;" valign="top" width="222"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
44 miles, 35 degrees, overcast, wedding<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
<td style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 2.5in;" valign="top" width="240"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Took daughter to wedding parlor for hair/make-up, brunch and shopping
with sister, dropped off dress at parlor, wedding<o:p></o:p></div>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Since this is a cycling blog I thought I would interview
Velo for details about his adventure. Forgive me if I interject some of my excitement
from the week. It’s not every day your niece gets married on New Year’s Eve and
both of your kids are in the wedding party.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thursday morning I got up and went through my normal routine
because I was not off of work. It was Christmas Eve, day one of Velo’s
challenge. He was excited because the day was going to be unusually warm for
this time of year. A balmy 60 degrees, the sun shining, he waited till about 11
a.m. to hit the open road. Traffic was light, and, in hindsight, he wishes he
would have covered more ground that day. The weather got progressively worse as
the week went on. A family dinner for Christmas Eve created and unfortunate
constraint for his Christmas Eve endeavor.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixUUhcYkoMYaW8_J63uFv6Khf4022f93XYR9m0Pi5Jeb3J_gcKFlw0bKJijTRJ7ji2GSBf4Eg5gomaTbs7x4FS5ezbGuzO4HrGWyEqwQaBjWX-1_lX07kohxFPrurL0w5d6_JyVkwS908d/s1600/151224+Starbucks+Columbia+Tusculum.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixUUhcYkoMYaW8_J63uFv6Khf4022f93XYR9m0Pi5Jeb3J_gcKFlw0bKJijTRJ7ji2GSBf4Eg5gomaTbs7x4FS5ezbGuzO4HrGWyEqwQaBjWX-1_lX07kohxFPrurL0w5d6_JyVkwS908d/s320/151224+Starbucks+Columbia+Tusculum.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Being such a thoughtful person, he mailed Christmas cards at
the post office (better late than never, right?) and delivered a bottle of
champagne to me at the office. After missing me at work (I had to run a wedding
errand) he backtracked to the east side of town and to Starbucks for his
holiday fave, a Cranberry Bliss Bar.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Christmas Day found us alone for most of the day so we took
advantage of it and went for a ride together. See my previous post, “<a href="http://www.thereluctantcyclist.com/2015/12/a-pluvious-christmas-ride.html">A Pluvious Christmas Ride</a>” for details about our Waffle House expedition.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBusukI4xO6ljNzJi6RiAfe9Mw8_-S4WgzBFJDPJGlPEzdMODUv3GCvAthouolehKbyXJJh0PR-ImQQFNZ1i-6W4UVBP3KL6HHOtmd2d3jYEVmwiZytxve5vKx9kQXMdhzFvMZwTedJgUF/s1600/151226+tomb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBusukI4xO6ljNzJi6RiAfe9Mw8_-S4WgzBFJDPJGlPEzdMODUv3GCvAthouolehKbyXJJh0PR-ImQQFNZ1i-6W4UVBP3KL6HHOtmd2d3jYEVmwiZytxve5vKx9kQXMdhzFvMZwTedJgUF/s400/151226+tomb.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Saturday, December 26<sup>th</sup> was still unseasonably
warm but a little on the wet side. Velo headed out for a ride about the same
time I left to pick up my daughter. She was inviting her boyfriend over to meet
us and wanted to make dinner so we had to go grocery shopping. Velo managed a
37 mile ride to Harrison’s Tomb in Cleves, OH. This was the day he was out
longer than I had expected so I sent a desperate text to find out where he was
and if he was still upright. Low and behold, wind and rain had slowed him down
and a flat tire on the way home hindered his timing. Changing a flat tire in
the rain on a December morning is not a fun thing. In addition Velo had planned to take his Mom
out for Christmas lunch and shopping and to visit with his brother and Family
60 miles away.<br />
<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipGEFnrkntdqer6K9f9hw9HrOXOmdr_vVElZWzBB9mZVPWv1jhsZn2hsnemOXXT5PKqJzzqjM1YTudB56gb-Q8Ucy1Mc498H6r5hMM3xjmn-XGxbyF_K-0glSHG1tSbka0d3NB84rBB_q8/s1600/back+yard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipGEFnrkntdqer6K9f9hw9HrOXOmdr_vVElZWzBB9mZVPWv1jhsZn2hsnemOXXT5PKqJzzqjM1YTudB56gb-Q8Ucy1Mc498H6r5hMM3xjmn-XGxbyF_K-0glSHG1tSbka0d3NB84rBB_q8/s200/back+yard.jpg" width="110" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sunday, December 27<sup>th</sup> was better suited for a
canoe than a bicycle. We woke to water running in the back door so excavation
of the yard pre-empted a ride.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Monday, December 28<sup>th</sup> and Velo was diligently
back at the challenge. The temperature was still on the warm side but that bonus
was negated by the pouring rain. After traveling east and hoping to do a few
laps of the Lunken Airport loop, he quickly realized all the water was flooding
surrounding creeks and streams so he had to detour around the park only to find
high water on Eastern Ave. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On his way back he had an appointment with a leather
craftperson, <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/Jaewan">J.Wan</a>, at Carabello
Coffee to discuss a Christmas project I had ordered for him. Though the rain
was not as severe as Sunday, poor Velo returned from running errands with just
42 miles completed looking like someone had put him through a rinse cycle. Five
of the eight days had passed and he was less than halfway through the challenge
with weakening forecasts for the remainder of the week.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBpdOsooVLTW9HcjWRxt3Qd2VHkCkJQT3aprDNc-ayGdUWNldf2sjMp1KzgGtxPkyaJnacnhMTlm5oekKI1BtSQg4hBpZ5SNU4pDw30JxPYGUy58D08GjyLSOcQ7wTk1dRc2CPa3e6DNuH/s1600/151229+flood.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBpdOsooVLTW9HcjWRxt3Qd2VHkCkJQT3aprDNc-ayGdUWNldf2sjMp1KzgGtxPkyaJnacnhMTlm5oekKI1BtSQg4hBpZ5SNU4pDw30JxPYGUy58D08GjyLSOcQ7wTk1dRc2CPa3e6DNuH/s320/151229+flood.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVS6fJwJDnO___Fs4RNo2GB4kebfA5zOtCWdPc__4HQxnMfxrxtu-FimzkvhMs1VrkHFT7brJo_uw3PDaebODBSFJMV3A76lFafJqos0QmZfoJmL1n10CoWcWSyya0ARwchyyoGriqTYoz/s1600/151229+oneonta.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVS6fJwJDnO___Fs4RNo2GB4kebfA5zOtCWdPc__4HQxnMfxrxtu-FimzkvhMs1VrkHFT7brJo_uw3PDaebODBSFJMV3A76lFafJqos0QmZfoJmL1n10CoWcWSyya0ARwchyyoGriqTYoz/s320/151229+oneonta.jpg" width="320" /></a>Tuesday, December 29<sup>th</sup> was still warm but very
windy. With the time-clock ticking Velo knew completing the challenge was
against the odds. Additionally, we had family in from out of town and were
meeting them for dinner at 5 o’clock. I had to go to work at 9 a.m. and Velo
left on his bike at the same time. His goal for the day was at least 60 miles,
which he exceeded by riding to Oneonta, KY. Yep – that’s exactly what I said,
“where the heck is Oneonta?” Given the strong winds he decided to take Route 8 east
along the KY side of the river. The road
was flooded at Manhattan Beach Marina and the main building was partially
underwater. </div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiP8bDfwNO3aBkZld0SAc7gK32DpLkY9MwcA0Y_5rg_-ORcPIktuGqzTO43UaJROiIh56XYXEio06VLjSBIuqy_3tAo3GfZmDii_6ku3o2WsaPE-FdCnl-pQ9ZgpthLQEijvRMo4yL-GHo/s1600/151230+butterworth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiP8bDfwNO3aBkZld0SAc7gK32DpLkY9MwcA0Y_5rg_-ORcPIktuGqzTO43UaJROiIh56XYXEio06VLjSBIuqy_3tAo3GfZmDii_6ku3o2WsaPE-FdCnl-pQ9ZgpthLQEijvRMo4yL-GHo/s320/151230+butterworth.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Wednesday, December 30<sup>th</sup>, Velo knew he had to
make this day count. The wedding rehearsal and dinner was scheduled for 6 p.m.
and I had volunteered him to be in
charge of the music during the wedding ceremony so he had to be on time. He
left in the morning at the same time that I was leaving for work again. The temperature hovered around 50 degrees but
at least the precipitation had ceased. His 69 mile ride took him east then
north to the Warren County line, where the Butterworth Estate is marked as a
notable stop on the Underground Railroad.
On the return trip he stopped at the Branch Hill Coffee Company in
Loveland to refuel. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgbsMqqAmxlJH2U_7anET2ubDVCgx_1GHBvuLCMO-gidSYYRHi_qRiPChnPO2fLrZ3o6m15yBGZDfJR6noFw0i6w5W37WWzrU6MSkW0IgBN1Gn4awqn6VsH9uNhLEgG9BT7OT4ECfefY6l/s1600/dress.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgbsMqqAmxlJH2U_7anET2ubDVCgx_1GHBvuLCMO-gidSYYRHi_qRiPChnPO2fLrZ3o6m15yBGZDfJR6noFw0i6w5W37WWzrU6MSkW0IgBN1Gn4awqn6VsH9uNhLEgG9BT7OT4ECfefY6l/s320/dress.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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Last day, New Year’s Eve, with the wedding looming, Velo
needed about 40 more miles to complete the challenge. To his dismay the
temperature dropped significantly with the high of only 35 degrees. He chose a
route to Cleves, back out by Harrison’s Tomb, and a familiar weekly loop we do
in the summer to Shawnee Park. On the way west he was treated to a cold wind
and a bit of sleet. I think he had a
fleeting moment of doubt some time during this ride. On the way home he stopped
for coffee and breakfast at the McDonald's in Sayler Park. All while I was tending
to my daughter’s schedule as a bridesmaid, having mimosa’s with my sister and
shopping downtown. I scored a dress at Saks Fifth Ave. for my daughter-in-law.
A $1,000 beauty on the 70% off rack. The theme of the wedding was Roaring 20’s
so fringe and beads were all the fashion.</div>
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<i>And now, please join
me in congratulating Velo Junkie on his achievement and Scott and
Marita(Hergert) Sullivan on their new life together. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht9yUZawwfqkTc2wXJwczrOOboMwzO0ThTMKXonX2IAd2SLFt7fXYvdL6AsA3N3cKksZerW060GjuNzcej8N0esmFp0bxe73Iw0ONbmMakgCAw8KZZDL719Edx-1x0ISLGnSVOdxAAzRNE/s1600/final+pic+festive+500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht9yUZawwfqkTc2wXJwczrOOboMwzO0ThTMKXonX2IAd2SLFt7fXYvdL6AsA3N3cKksZerW060GjuNzcej8N0esmFp0bxe73Iw0ONbmMakgCAw8KZZDL719Edx-1x0ISLGnSVOdxAAzRNE/s320/final+pic+festive+500.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEEUYcJ0PjMLCkjie6XAcCFLRmG-c7G-AjUaNUSS9AbiP3NmI3UUbKyVlePC26dX_hqM5XEZekHNsbxPaTx2mVYXbKey3Xp8O2imMmaXcBtvMi5hwa6Thmij1HjwWasi43DMnQx1NPOD_b/s1600/ritascott2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEEUYcJ0PjMLCkjie6XAcCFLRmG-c7G-AjUaNUSS9AbiP3NmI3UUbKyVlePC26dX_hqM5XEZekHNsbxPaTx2mVYXbKey3Xp8O2imMmaXcBtvMi5hwa6Thmij1HjwWasi43DMnQx1NPOD_b/s400/ritascott2.jpg" width="225" /></a><br />
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<i>#raphafestive500 #samdmweddingnye #newyearseve2015 #harrisonstomb #velojunkie #newyearsevewedding</i></div>
jacquiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058582541983236475noreply@blogger.com0