june ride in march

Laura OLPH has already uploaded her post on this ride, reporting the best joke of the day, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to post it, too.

When the end of March comes around, and one of the weekend days is predicted to be 70°+F, and the other day is predicted to be rainy, you can expect a large number of cyclists to be out. Laura had called for a flat ride to a stop she wanted to try, and seven of us took her up on it: Chris C, Bob N, Andrew A, Peter G, "Front Wheel" Ricky G (more on the nickname below), and new-to-the-Slugs Dave (he cracks jokes like a Hill Slug and can keep up with the discussion, but I'm not sure he can reliably ride slow enough to make it through the arduous initiation).

Laura, true to her recent behavior, wasn't even cutting it close on the start; we had way plenty of time for ride sheet signatures, the obligatory pre-ride speech, and the usual abuse and character assassination.

But also at the Mercer East lot was a group of probably twenty others, who claimed to be a group from Bernie's bike shop in Hamilton.We let them go first.

After all, there were many more of them, they appeared better-organized, and they would have rolled over us as if we were so many bugs.

We rolled out..

... and OF COURSE there was a bridge out:

...but just because it's closed to motor vehicles doesn't mean it's closed to us.

Laura's choice of stop was a place called Charleston Coffee. I liked it a lot, and I hope we get to stop there again. There was the usual assortment of baristas with interesting hair, a bagel shop in a communicating store, available toilets, and they treated us like folks (which is enough for me to like a place). Laura didn't like the vanilla in the cold brew, but since I am a coffee Philistine, that didn't bother me. I hope we get to go there again.

Uh... No thanks, my tremor is bad enough. Below, Laura show us one of the dance steps she learned at the Hill Slugs School of Deportment:

While at the stop, Ricky got to talking about last week's ride where he had left his front wheel behind when he had driven away afterwards; Andrew told me that Ricky had given him a ride one day and had almost left before giving andrew back his front wheel. I want to start calling Ricky "Front Wheel', in hopes he'll not make that mistake again.

Also at the stop, Bob pointed out that we had not had any flats on this ride. He must have awakened the ire of the goddess of flats, because it wasn't too long before...

Yeah, that was on his front wheel.

We had a discussion abut the goddess of flats, Pneuma (or Πνευμα, if you're fussy about the Greek. I felt like being fussy). Edit: I've discovered that, on some computers, the Greek letters don't show. Oh, well.


Bob felt lucky that it was his front wheel, and I said we should mark this day with a white stone, in the ancient Roman custom.

Laura asked if Pneuma like white stones, or grey or black. "Bridgestones", I said, with a little more self-satisfaction than the joke could really bear.

Pneuma must have been upset, because a few miles later, she smote Ricky's rear tire.

How many Freewheelers des it take to change a tire? (If you come to my tire clinic after the Spring Fling, I'll tell you.) Also in that picture above, chis is holding forth about an insulator he'd found. He rode back with it. It didn't slow him down much.

Laura had got lost a bit, so we wound up with a little over 50 for this 47-mile ride.

And today, in the rain, I've been cleaning off the grime of winter from all the bikes, and giving them a polish and lube. The chain on the Krakow Monster is showing rust (I only take it out in the worst conditions, and it knows it). There might be more maintenance due. I need the occasional rainy day to keep up with the mechanics!

cosmically disorganized

(Above, in one of my few organized moments today)

With The Excellent Wife (TEW) out of town for a few days (and needing to pick her up at the airport this afternoon), I decided to list a short ride so I'd have time to clean up and be at the airport at a reasonable time after her flight landed. So far, I haven't messed that up yet, but there's still time, as I write this.

After I got up , I made coffee and potted around the house, keeping an eye on the clock to make sure I left on time. I realized I hadn't responded to an invitation sent a week or so ago, and the RSVP date was four days past. Just in the nick of time, I called, an was informed I'd made it in enough time that I could still go. Whew!

I kept an eye on the grandfather clock in the front room to make sure I had enough time to get to the start. I'll bet I checked it for 35 minutes without noticing that it hadn't moved from 7:05, until I looked at another clock and saw I'd barely have enough time to pack up the care and get to the start.

Which I did. Peter G and Ricky G were waiting. I told them about my mishap with the clock and got myself set up to go. As I was doing, Jeff B, Dave H, and Chris C came in.

We left without incident, and did one of my usual routes; a 35-miler. The ride itself was uneventful, although pleasant; a much nicer day than yesterday's wind.

We got to the stop at 206 (Peter had ridden off on his own) to find a number of bikes already there. I had to go see what kind of idiot people would ride a bike in this weather.

Yeah, I thought so.

Ricky's got a new-old Cinelli, and the pictures don't do it justice; it is the most excellent Tyrian purple that just doesn't come across in the photos.

I loves me some bike bling.

And back. I packed up to go. And then I got a text from Dave; Ricky had left a wheel behind, and Jeff was taking it. I called Ricky and let him know; he asked if I could text him the contact numbers.

I did. But I sent him, not Jeff's numbers, but Dave's. I had to correct that.

There's been a lot of "I had to correct that" recently. It's probably not a good idea to trust me with sharp stuff for a while.

st pat's day ride

After all of the trouble going on with my mother, both The Excellent Wife (TEW) and I agreed that a ride today would be A Good Thing. The only ride listed at the time I looked was Steve S's C+ ride, advertised at 35-45 miles. I signed up to go and figured I could add a few miles by parking in Plainsboro and riding to Cranbury.
 

I got to Plainsboro stupidly early, and rode a circuitous route that doubles the usual four-mile distance, and then rolled around until a few others showed up at the start.

Chris is rockin' those four-leaf-shamrock tights, ain't he?

Steve is one of the few leaders in my experience at Cranbury to take advantage of the fact that the wind regularly comes from the west; he led us on a route that went westward into the wind to start, so that we could have a tailwind on the way back. That almost makes up for the fact that he underestimated the hills on this route. (Tom H, are you reading this? There's more coming; you may have a protégé.)

But the bridge at Alexander Road was closed to vehicle traffic.

The sidewalk was open, though, and we continued. (Tom? Did you get together with Steve and plan this?)

Steve had warned us about the hill on Alexander Road, but he missed the info about the climb on Cherry Hill. One of our number was recently recovering from a respiratory ailment; had trouble on the hills and was thinking of turning back. Eddie L, sweep, and a few others ran in for cheerleading duty to ensure she knew she could make it. (She did.)

We rolled around until we got to the bagel place on Route 27 near the Kendall Park post office (about two miles from my house!)

And then back, through roads I have lived near for almost twenty years and never ridden on. Some of the crossings were a bit hairy, but the roads were great, and I gotta see if I can find 'em again. (I'll be more likely to if I take a look at the ride page... which includes my twelve-or-so-mile ride in and my four-mile ride back.)

Here's hoping you're having as happy a celebration as I. Erin go Bragh, and suchlike. Go read some Yeats or James Joyce, or something.

and the end is not yet

After my mother's fall last week (it turns out she was given a sulfa drug to battle an infection, had a bad reaction with vomiting, diarrhea, and visual hallucinations, passed out and banged her head; we don't know how long before she was found), and the determination that she wasn't able to live on her own anymore, my sister called with panic in her voice and asked if The Excellent Wife (TEW) and I could come up and offer some help. We went up on Wednesday March 13 and came back today, which is why I wasn't in attendance on Tom H's ride today.

I didn't know how much help we could provide in two days, and TEW wasn't sure that my mother needed the level of care to which she was being referred. We went up, and just having us there provided my sister with substantial relief, so I guess that was good. We arranged to see mom the next day, when she was due for the transfer to the new facility.

It went as easily as it could, and it still took all day. We got mom at 11, as directed, collected the discharge meds and paperwork, and brought her to the new institution, an assisted living facility close to my sister. My mother, while still appearing physically OK, clearly needs the help. She has long-term memory losses common in dementia related to age (my mother can remember, for example, that my wife is my wife, and that she likes her, but mother can't remember my wife's name, even after promptings and repetitions), but she also has problems creating new memories, an effect I associate with head injury (for example, she could not remember that a nurse helped her to label her medications, even among evidence of the nurse's having been there). We have labeled all of the drawers and closets so that she can find things. Initially, she could not remember her meal times, or how to get to the dining room, although she was able to get there yesterday.

We got her to her room, and the social worker and maintenance staff came in to get her oriented. The staff is cheerful and patient (as I am not), and we love them. But mother needed frequent repetition, and will need reminders and assistance to get through the day.

Mother also has the quick mood shifts I associate with head injury, and when she is depressed, it's bad. She said she prayed, when she was on the floor in her old apartment, that she would die and this would be over, and over the days we saw her mentioned several times that her life is done, and she has no more reason to be alive. And then a moment later she would be laughing about something.

There was crisis after crisis: Two boxes of irreplaceable books appeared to be lost. My sister had a sleepless night, but they were found again.

We set up my mother's room and my wife was helping her with something-or-other, and sat down on the be with mother... and the bed, older than my mother's 88 years, broke. We were startled; my mother said, "What next?" I took the bed apart; my sister called around to find a metal bedframe and I set her bedding up on that; we will ask the custodial staff to spirit away the remains of the old bed.

Earlier that day, I had gone to the cable office to set up her landline (my mother will never figure out a cell phone), and I was told it would be online at 9am the next day. When it wasn't by noon, I started calling Time Warner to see if we could get to the bottom of the problem. It took nine calls, and over 136 minutes of cell time; I know because I ran out of minutes and had to refill. I spoke to two operators who swore that this time, they were transferring me to the person who could help me out; once I was simply disconnected; the second time I was transferred to a phone tech who was unable to find the order. When you have a monopoly, your company does not actually have to provide any service. Finally, by about 9pm, service was established.

WE spent the day after the transfer continuing the process, begun by my sister, of cleaning out the old apartment. We've come to some agreements about how I can help at this distance, and my sister (whose anxiety over matters financial ranges from the uncomfortable to the crippling) has begun to distinguish what I can do for her and what she needs to do herself (and there is more that I can do than either of us thought). I intend to be more helpful than I have been, both because I can, and because it's clear the assistance is needed.

My mother is already mostly gone. I hope her prayers come true, as easily and painlessly as providence can allow.

pushin' spring

 

Yeah, it was warm enough to hang out outside on the break today.

Tom H called for a 42-mile ride today, and there weren't a lot of other club rides on offer. Fourteen of us came out, including some I've never met or rarely ridden with (although Jerry F pointed out that there were a lot of Laura OLPH's Hill Slugs on this ride - there IS a large area of overlap in the Venn Diagram of the Hills Slugs and Tom's Insane bike Posse).

Some of us had wintered better than others, so I swept (although I don't think Tom knew I was doing it). We split into a fast group and a slower group... and those of us in the back waited politely for the rest when we missed a turn off Kinney Road (that's that little appendix-y thing in the northeast on the route page). The rest of us thought of cutting 'em off, in memory of Don Sprague, but Tom's cooler head prevailed, and we waited.

We rolled around through Turkey Swamp park, again wit the fast folks in front (Tom had some thoughts about Spraguing them there, but there wasn't a road to turn off; perhaps the guys up front knew that), then to the Copper Ladle at the site of the old Roy's on Sweetman's Lane.

I'm sure the main reason we went was because Tom had tried unsuccessfully to stop there in the past (among other reasons, they're closed on Sundays), ad I'm just as sure we won't make it a regular stop; it wasn't all that. (If it's convenient and open, though, the fellow WAS welcoming enough...)

I was impressed with myself for getting so close to the bird until I noticed it was plastic.

By the way, that OTHER little appendix on the route near the stop is me missing the turn. There are some things you can count on...

On the way out, Tom led us across the gravel driveway.

It wasn't as good as his usual bridge out or closed road, but it will have to do.

And back. As we approached Etra, where we had started, Tom took a long way and about half of the riders opted for a direct route back; we ended with six or seven. I thought this was uniquely a Hill Slug phenomenon; I see now I was mistaken.

That's probably it for riding for a few weeks; I have other things to attend to next week. Hope to see youse soon. Come on out for a ride soon. The weather is warming up, and it's time to get back in shape.

mom's not going home

After her fall last week, mom spent a day in ICU, and another day or two in the hospital, and is now in a rehab facility, and the plan is for her to go to an elder-care assisted-living facility, because it's unlikely that she's going to be able to live on her own anymore. Phone calls to her have been brief (she doesn't seem to want to talk very long); her spirits are down (she's making references to dying and "being with her relatives").

My sister is looking at a facility for her to go to. We're hacking out my mother's financials (not easy when we're separated by hundreds of miles).

The Excellent Wife (TEW) and I are arguing; she doesn't understand how I can appear so stiff-upper-lip about mother's condition, and I think every suggestion she makes is another reference to how I've failed my mother. That last part, of course, is my problem, not hers, except insofar as I take it out on her.

I worked Sunday and am off today. I have rarely needed a day off as much as I have needed today. My supervisor's father is likely dying, so there's both tenderness there, as well as concern (what if we both need to be out at the same time?).

Life, and death, are complicated.

mom had a fall

My mother lives an a senior living facility near Buffalo, NY, a few miles away from my sister. Mom had a fall last weekend; was on the floor alone, bleeding, and dehydrated for a few hours; wound up in the ICU, then to hospital, then to a rehab facility (it sounds like a real rehab facility, not a fictitious title for a nursing home).

Sister wasn't sure mom was going to come out OK, and was making plans to empty apartment and move mom to senior care, but mom has cleared some (memory and disorientation problems), and now it's not clear what she's gonna need. Or do.

There was some wackiness about mom's taxes. Sister gets all anxious about anything financial, so she had me call the accountant (not like there's much I can do from Central Jersey). Accountant told me about stuff to collect, and my sister found much of it in mom's apartment, so sister's feeling better about that.

I've not called mom or tried to speak to her. I completely forgot about flowers yesterday (mom's been moving around so much I couldn't plan on anything before that) and I have an alarm in the phone to remind me today.

My relationship with mom is a bit fraught with guilt and disappointment, and I've been oversensitive. When my sister thought mom might be dying, there was friction between me and The Excellent Wife (TEW), which has passed, and I find myself a bit edgy when I talk to my sister.

No ride today because of the snow, and I'm working tomorrow. There's some feeling of too-many-balls-in-the-air, and I'll be glad if I can return to some normality and routine. (And seeing some friends wouldn't hurt, either.)