The Winnebago Stories

I am a road tripper.  My siblings are road trippers.  My parents are road trippers.  We might not be if not for my mother's parents.  In the post-war years my maternal grandparents embraced the open road with all the optimism that a young family could have.  My grandmother was from Oklahoma so trips to the plains were an annual occurrence.  When the Worlds Fair came to New York in 1964 all 7 kids were packed up in the station wagon and they headed to Queens.  They even road tripped to Mexico.

The open road was certainly a romantic notion for my mother.  The farthest my father had ever been from Chicago was Ohio until he married my mom.  When my folks got hitched they hit the road for their honeymoon in their '65 Ford Galaxie.  The two of them saved their pennies and later bought a window van.  During the height of the 70's muscle car era when my dad's friends were buying Mustangs and Corvettes my parents bought a tan Ford Econoline with nothing inside but two seats.  They would transform it into their ultimate road trip machine complete with a bed, refrigerator and a two burner stove.  With friends redistributed all over the country due to wartime service they had no shortage of destinations.  The miles piled on.

The New Ford In the Badlands

As they built on to the family the bed became a convertible bench with seat belts.  Driver's and passenger seats got upgraded to captain's chairs that swiveled and folded flat for my sister and I to sleep on.   The van would get a ton of TLC one winter as it lay in pieces in my uncle's garage as Dad  rebuilt the engine and patched up some rusty panels.  The following summer all of Dad's hard work paid off on the drive to California.  The grandaddy of all road trips.  Three weeks were spent on the road as we saw the Grand Canyon, Las Vegas, and Disneyland.  By this time the family had grown to the six of us.  A double hammock was fashioned as my big sister and I had outgrown the front seats and relinquished them to our younger siblings.

With an aunt firmly rooted in Colorado Springs and an uncle in the Air Force stationed around the eastern United States we spent most summers alternating between visiting one or the other.  Stopping to see the sights in between.  Most years the Ford ran like a song, just an occasional flat tire or blowout.  There was a bad alternator once and a bad radiator another trip.  But for the most part it was a faithful steed.  The 90's came along with children in their teenage years and the Ford was sent to the crusher.  My parents made the plunge to buy a Winnebago.  They decided on a LeSharo model that looked like the size of a van but you could stand up in it.  Deluxe for sure.

The Riley Mobile in Virginia

At some point before kids my parents went to Disney World and camped at the resort campground.  With Campers idyllically parked all around them a seed was planted to one day come back with a Camper full of kids.  This is what the Winnebago was all about.  Having spent all their money on the new machine, the big trip would have to wait.  We stuck to the staples of Colorado and the East or we stayed nearby and saw the Midwest.  Big Bone Lick State Park in Kentucky became a favorite.  We got as far south as Georgia once.  But the Florida trip kept getting pushed back not that us kids were any the wiser.  The road had firmly taken the hold of us too and we didn't care where the destination was.  Our lives were altered for two weeks out of the year.   Our friends were not missed.  My shitty grades and looming summer school weren't a thought.  Being on vacation was all that mattered.   To this day I can't remember a single argument we ever had on a vacation.  Those trips always felt like an adventure where cooperation was important for a successful trip.   The "adventure" was amped up once the Winnebago was brought into the equation.

The French engine that made up the camper was not as sound as the V8 from Detroit.  It became apparent when we took the camper up a Colorado switchback to the top of some mountain peak that the machine had its limitations.  The motor labored as we crawled up the peak with a line of cars behind it.  The foreign fuel sipping engine barely had the horsepower to get us to the top.  Dad was white-knuckled the entire time.  It was a real possibility that the power to weight ratio would top out and we would be a sitting duck with a mile of cars behind us.  We did make it to the top and once the blood pressure was back to normal we drove back down.    It might have been less arduous had we hiked up.  The view was not as enjoyed as it should have been and yet the real adventure was yet to come.  We took the southern route back to Illinois on I-70 through Kansas.  Little did we know that we would see more of the Sunflower State than we bargained for.  In the middle of the heartland the the Winnebago spit out the serpentine belt and we rolled to a stop in front of the only house we had seen for miles.  (My mother would later say that the camper was always polite when it broke down: always on the way home and as conveniently as possible, and God bless Dad who had to deal with all those random mechanics)  This would be the first time we spent the night stranded in the camper.  In the morning the local tow truck came to drag us to town.  Unfortunately the small town hook was no match and we quickly broke the boom and had to wait for a heavy duty machine to come.  The local mechanic shop was next door to a cattle auction so Mom, never missing an opportunity,  took us to the all under the tent and with her best mom voice told us all to sit on our hands "we are NOT going home with a cow".  Talk about your "Not for Tourist Guide" it was the real Kansas full of real ranchers and the auctioneer had a motor mouth that would have shut up the Mini Machines guy.  As I remember the belt took some hunting down and we ended up with a replacement that was not exact but would get us home.

Plenty of trips came and went with nothing forcing us off the road.  Weekend trips to Michigan, and day trips to the beach along with youth football games were the Winnebago's unsung hero moments.  When your stuck at a freezing football game after your game is over but you have to wait for your sister to finish cheer leading for the second game, the shelter of the camper could not be beat.  The ability to enjoy a camp fire and then sleep in air conditioning in the humid south was another shining moment.

The next time the family had to spend the night stranded in the camper was years later in Pennsylvania.  We spent the whole trip with a loud muffler and, again, on the way home driving through the night, the camper started loosing power and we crawled to a stop.  Dad lifted the hood in an unpopulated stretch of road under a pitch black sky lit up only by the stars above.  It was so dark that in the engine bay you could see the glowing red of the cast iron exhaust manifold.  What the hell do you do in the middle of the night on the shoulder of the expressway with major engine failure?  We slept and waited.  There is truly nothing more unnerving than being stranded on the side of the road rocking back and forth with every passing semi truck.  After a while a state trooper came along and radioed for a tow truck to take us to town where we spent the night waiting for the mechanic to open the bay doors in the morning.  The shop we were dropped at was run by Appalachian Good Ol' Boys whose bathroom was plastered floor to ceiling with nudie pinups.  For some reason water went through me like a zipline in a Costa Rica Rainforest.

This shop really had no business working on anything that couldn't be fixed with a coffee can and a hose clamp.  It was quickly realized we needed a rental car to go home.  Their entire road tripping career my parents never had a casualty before.  We were going home a man down and it took its toll on my folks.  They were not pleased with the situation at all, divided in how to handle it we spent the night in the wounded camper waiting for a rental car to be delivered the next day.  It was a somber drive home.  The next weekend my parents rented a U-Haul with a trailer and brought back the rental planning to drag the camper back to our trusted mechanic back home.   Some how the plan was altered and the Good Ol' Boys kept the camper another week or so and fixed it.  The Riley Mobile came home under its own power a few weeks later.  However much like any wounded soldier it was never really the same.  It would never leave the Midwest again.

The late nineties were a boom time and my parents finally were able to put away some money to hit the road to that magical place in the swamps of the Orange State.  The Rileys were Florida bound and we were practically adults at this point.  My older sister and I were in college and in fact would not be along for the whole trip.  She would fly out to meet us in Orlando and I would fly back with her.  The Camper would be given one last chance.  I think we all wanted it so bad that we just had to try.  After all we had been driving it around town, it was like taking it to the store and back...but nonstop...and all at once.  Where we broke down you could have still listened to Chicago radio stations.  The final defeat.  It was towed back to the South Suburbs and we transferred everything to the car.  You could say we got back to basics.  When my Mom was that age she road tripped Mexico in a car without air conditioning.  In that respect we were still cruising in style.  We arrived without any lost time and when it was all said and done my parents took every single one of their kids on a trip that was 25 years in the making.        

The Winnebago is still parked on a concrete slab behind the garage.  It enjoyed a retirement as a hostel when we made international friends in college.  My parents still road trip albeit behind the wheel of a Pontiac Grand Prix these days, but they don't have a van load of kids either.  Just like how they started.  My older sister and younger brother both have families of their own and are extremely accomplished road trippers.  My youngest sister has taken some epic cross country trips, again visiting friends dispersed throughout the country due to wartime service and I'll hit the road on a moments notice with just about anybody because there is just something romantic about the road.

Fox River Grove 5/20

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Known for the Norge Ski Jump the town also plays host for the Psimet Fox River Omnium.  Its a multiple day points road race for the bikes.  The first day was in Elgin and I attended the second day in Fox River Grove.  The race was a Criterium, with a monster climb right out of the gate.  There isn't much elevation to train on within city limits so I didn't really know what I was getting myself into.  I woke up early and packed up the Go Fast bike and was about an hour early for my 10 am race time.   Perfect for pre riding the course.  In my smallest chainring and largest cog I crawled up the incline at 9 mph.  It was probably a good 2-3 min climb.  Once at the top the winding suburban subdivision street, complete with hay bales padding mailboxes, there was a wide and smooth down hill allowing me to easily reach speeds north of 30 mph.  If you were confident you could really lean into the corners taking them at speed without hitting the brakes and slingshot yourself into the next climb.  I rode the course a few times planning where and when to shift to higher and lower gearing.  I felt my confidence building.  I lined up at the start/finish and eaves dropped on racers' plans to kill themselves to grab points and fall back.  I was collecting all this race intelligence to make my own plan.  The whistle blew and the climb started.  I let the points racers go figuring I would pass them late.  At the summit I geared down to gain any lost position, banked in the corners and then shifted to my small chainring on a false flat of the course only to drop my chain.  My legs spun like a silent movie sped up for comedic effect.  I didn't know what happened right away, was I just in too high a gear?  Nope.  I had to stop.  I pulled off to the side forcing another rider into the grass.  Sorry bud.  The intangible happened.  All that strategy now meant nothing.  With the adrenaline pumping, and not wanting to unclip entirely from my pedals, it took me 3 tries to get my chain back on.  I went from the front of the peloton to the back in the longest 15 seconds ever.  I got back in the action passing one or two riders and then came the climb again.  There would be no passing on this beast.  There is a cheering section on the left.  I'm being yelled at to go faster, stand up on those pedals, pass that guy.  Equal parts encouragement/annoyance.  I'm at the top, I take a deep breath and down shift.  My legs are shaking but I'm determined to pass everyone in sight on the way down.  I take every corner on the inside and sprint on the straightaways.  I will regain my position.  Now more climbing and no passing.  My manhood is now being challenged by hecklers/cheerleaders.  At the summit I go for my water bottle.  The sugary sports drink makes my lips sticky and its an extra effort just to open my mouth, I wish it was water.  I'm passed and I can't even be bothered to use his draft I so I over take him on the down hill along with a hand full of other riders.  Finally I see some teammates.  The top 20 must be right around the corner.  More climbing.  The cheering section.  I don't even know how many times I've done this now.  With a glance, my bike computer read the ride time at 22 min.  This is either the finial lap or I have one more to go.  I'll give it all I got just in case.  I sprint to the finish.  Its the last lap.  The run out is strait ahead and I'm so happy I don't have to climb that hill again.  I finally see the riders ahead of me.  I was kidding myself, there are a lot of riders in front of me.  If I cracked the top 20 Ill be happy...wait, no scratch that, I'm happy now.  I don't have to climb that hill any more.  Where is the water?

Matteson and Hyde Park Crit Racing

Last weekend I couldn't get down to Champaign Urbana for the bike racing so I decided to check out the Matteson Tuesday Night Race series.  I love these races.  The first Criterium race I ever competed in was here.  Of course I lived on the south side then and it was so much easier to get to.  If I lived down there for sure I'd be a regular.  3 races 1 night back to back to back.  They start at 6pm so leaving work early is a must.  I staged my bike at my folks house and took the Metra to their house where they picked me up and drove me to the race.  The South Chicago Wheelmen host the night at the ACE Hardware paint factory at Central and Rt. 30.  Its a 4 corner course with wide 90° corners.  I raced in the B group set up for Cat4/5 racers and had a great time.  I had 2 top 5 finishes and posted the in the 1 spot in the finale which placed my at 3rd overall for the night.  Its such a fun evening of racing.  Its pretty chill and everyone there is out for a low key, smart race.


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Racin' 'Round the 'ol Paint Factory

On Saturday I pointed the compass south to my old neighborhood and competed in the Monsters of the Midway race.  My event wasn't until 4:30pm but the women's race was at 12:30 so I packed a lunch and cheered on 6 of the Half Acre women.  The entire race the clouds opened up and rained on them and there were plenty of spills on the four corner course which broke up the field and scattered racers in small packs 15 seconds behind each other.  Robin H. was able to hold on to the lead group and earned herself a podium finish at 3rd.

Photo Thanks to Velogrrl

 I missed most of the Men's category 4 race warming up for my upcoming cat 4/5 heat.  However I did manage to see a handful of slips and slides.  I'm told there was a line for the ambulance to get cleaned up after.  My race started out wet and quickly dried up as the laps were counted down.  It was a pretty fast race and I was doing my best to stay in the front 5 but I didn't see myself gaining a whole lot of ground.  After sprinting for a mid race prime (prize) I was reminded of a conversation I had with Mike A., the road race captain, about breaking away.  I decided to give it a go and I sprinted like a madman about half a lap in front of the field and held it for almost two laps.  Once the pack caught up to me I settled in for a mediocre finale.  With most of the fuel out of my tank I stood up for a sprint and crossed the finish 20th.  Little did I know Mike A. was going to convince me to line up for the second race.  Had I known that would have been an option I probably wouldn't have gassed it so hard.  Erica pinned a new number on me, Mike hydrated me and Bevan gave me an energy bar.  They should have slapped my ass and yelled "giddy up" as I rode to the start line.   It was all good fun.  The second race started and I settled in the back of the pack and started taking the turns.  Eventually I progressed to the middle and then I found myself in the top ten.  At this point I had my legs back under me and feeling good when a rider veered into my front wheel with his rear.  It was on a straight away and I had some room to move but my recovery took me into his wheel 2 more times in the matter of 3 seconds.  I didn't panic and was able to stay upright, much to my amazement and to the pleasure of the riders behind me.  I had a solid sprint to the finish and grabbed the 9 spot, happy to be in one piece.  The team went out for dinner and drinks afterward and I spent the night pretty geeked about the day of racing.

Photo Thanks to Velogrrl

Photo Thanks to Velogrrl 

Cobb Park 4/29

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I must really be digging this racing action.  Little habits are changing and forming like spending the evening carb loading for the morning's race.  I even decided to spend the night at my sister's house in the south 'burbs on Saturday night so I would only have a 40 min drive to Kankakee on Sunday allowing me to sleep in for an extra hour.  The only bummer with that was no carpool with the team.  Unlike last week I got to the race early enough to ride the course before the start time.  The criterium was set up great with a long stretch along the Kankakee River and then through side streets of a historic homes district, with some tight 90° turns, a dog leg, and a nice sloping curve that was uber fun.  Besides overdressing for the race I felt great going into the start.  If last week taught me anything it was to stay with the lead right out of the gate so I stuck to it this time too.  The tempo really picked up after lap 7 and one of the tighter turns I tried to pedal through and struck my inside pedal on the pavement.  It was never more evident that I was surrounded by five racers at speed.  The sloping turn became more and more fun with every revolution.  If you found yourself on the inside corner you could really lean into it and pedal out of the turn and gain a ton of ground.  I did this the second to last lap and it shot me to the front five competitors.  It was the key to a nice finish.  With that in mind, I don't know what happened on the last lap 'cause I ended up on the outside and took the turn wide for the final sprint.  As I got on it I saw a top ten finish slipping away and gave out a rebel yell as I pedaled.  I do believe that war cry freaked out some other riders.  In fact teammate Mike H. the only other Half Acre rider in the pack told me so.  Not a big deal for me, you should hear me on the crux of a climb.  I'm nothing but grunts.  No harm no foul it kept me in the top ten at 9th and quite possibly encouraged Mike to get away from me fast.  He came away with 7th.  Two Half Acre riders making up the top ten.  I like the way that looks.

I stuck around for the women's race to cheer on the Half Acre ladies.  They put a great race together and I like cheering.  The race made for some great photos too.

April 22- Alderman James Cappleman's 46th Ward Lincoln Park Criterium

Someone caught my Grrr Face.
Titled Grrr by: ewwhite

Race Day comes again.  This time at Montrose Beach.  The first races I attended were organized by my team and this race was set up by the racers at xXx-Athletico.  They are a pretty large team.  I think I see at least one of them every day on the lakefront path.  Complete with announcers and a pace car it was apparent this race was not a training or intro to racing race.  I planned to get to the event early to ride the course before it was being raced.  I knew the races were back to back and I would have no time to scope it out before my start time.  However with freezing temps I figured any knowledge I would have gained would not have benefited cold bones.  The time was better spent eating and keeping warm.  With a lousy warmup ride I got to the course, registered and found the new Half Acre Team tent waiting for me.  I tossed my messenger bag inside ditched my water bottles and started riding around to keep loose.  I had invited a cheering section consisting of a half a dozen or so relatives that gladly froze while rooting on Half Acre racers.


View xXx Lincoln Park Criterium in a larger map
 
 Team captain, Mike A., tipped me to position myself away from the wind at certain spots and it helped tenfold throughout the race.  The course contained a hairpin turn that was at the bottom of a hill.  After the turn my climb slowed me down a few positions but was easily regained positioning myself with riders between me and the crosswind.  The tip was the difference maker that kept me in contention for the half hour.  Surprisingly, the pace was extremely manageable and had I not taken the lead earlier in the race I might have placed higher but I'm pretty geeked with a 7th place finish.

Trek to Three Floyds Brewery

The Riders at Queen's Landing

Making the trek to Munster, Indiana is one of the mainstay bike rides in Chicago's bicycle touring community.  Having grown up nearby and being extremely familiar with the area its a wonder why I have never made the trip before, by car or bike.  It was high time to join some friends and make some new ones on the ride down.  So on Saturday the 10th of April I did a brewery to brewery bike ride.  I began at (a still closed) Half Acre at 9:15am and met up with a group of riders at Queen's Landing across from the Buckingham Fountain at 10:30am.  We introduced ourselves and waited for the rest of the group and hit the path south at 11am.  Along with a few Half Acre teammates there were another handful of riders all as nice as can be.


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The bike path ends at the South Shore Cultural Center so we took the street bike lane on Rt. 41 down to the Burnham Greenway bike path.   I have never been on this path and loved it.  It bisects the East Side Neighborhood and the town of Burnham Il. The bath abruptly ends and turns into Ave O which then becomes Burnham Ave. where the two towns meet.  We continued south on Burnham Ave until State St where you can head east or west to meet up with an unknown Indiana bike path to the east or pick up the Burnham Greenway path again to the west (recommended).  The path ends at the state line so the best bet is to take Ridge road east to Calumet Ave and head south.  The brew pub is across from the Centennial Park in an industrial corridor.  If you choose to take the eastern route which we did on the way down I would suggest exiting the path on Columbia Ave south.  It dead ends at Rt. 45 and that is where you can pick up Calumet Ave just to the west.  Its about 25 miles from Queens Landing and a 35 mile one way trip for me starting in North Center.  Its a great trip unfortunately the kitchen at the brew pub is under construction and the BBQ they were serving was way overpriced.  For $12 dollars a four inch bun with a couple cuts of pork roast and a bag of chips did not cut the mustard.  The beers I had were excellent Belgium style ales and most of their fans are in love with beers hoppy enough to wake the dead i.e. Zombie Dust so for y'all its a super treat.

Some of our group split off to take the Metra Electric Line back to the city.  Its about 10 miles to the west in Flossmoor Il.  Which incidentally also has a brew pub in it.  I could have made it a Triple Brewery Trip.  Hey, I might be on to something there.  The rest of us bought some beers to imbibe along a secluded point of the path for the ride home.

Peel back some layers.

Pit stop with the Chicago Skyway in the background.

Underneath the Skyway is the Burnham Greenway Path.

As the sun was coming down we got back into city limits and as we cornered the South Shore Cultural Center heading north we got the big skyline reveal which really made the entire trip top notch.  About a mile later I got a flat.  Booooo.  We were back to it in no time and we one by one peeled off the path to go home or make evening plans.   

Recap of Gapers Block Crits March 26-29

Monday the 26th I took my "Go Fast" bike to work it would be the first of 4 days the commuter bike would be neglected. The messenger bag was called to duty, packed with a big lunch and I rode to work in my team kit. The commute to work has always been shared with a variety of people donning their bicycle team's jerseys. Today I would be one of them. The "Jeep Affect" was apparent less than a mile into the lake front path. Team xXx racers, of which there are many, would pass and nod or hand signal as they would pass my Half Acre adorned torso. Through out the day I felt I knew something that everyone at work had no clue about. I split work early and rolled out onto the lake front path and immediately met up with a guy named Brandon from Team Pegasus who was also riding down to Calumet Park for the crit racing. Having only been to the park once it was a godsend for someone to lead the way. Once registered with the number 128 pinned on my back I took some revolutions on the course and realized how cold it was and the sun was still going down. With the pre-race warm-up completed I lined up next to some teammates on the start/finish line listened to the race official's safety talk and then the whistle blew. What happened next is now one of my new favorite sounds, all in unison for a second and a half a field of 40 racers clipped into their pedals. The race was on. The first turns were unnerving but I fell into a rhythm and began to understand the ebb and flow of the race along with how fast the races really are. 30 mph was not uncommon. Then I heard my new least favorite sound. There was a wreck right behind me. It sounded like a garbage disposal trying to grind up a fork. It is not a sound I want to hear up close if you know what I mean. A few laps later one of my teammates, Ross, was right beside me with some nasty road rash where pieces of his jersey and shorts used to be. Clearly he got wrapped up in the crash and caught back up to the field, what a monster! The last laps came along with tiring muscles, however I found myself in the front of the pack and I didn't want to be there so I slowed my pace.  Unfortunately as I did this the pack sped up and I did not have the gas to keep up. I fell back and finished by myself in the bottom half of the field. The rest of the night, now humbled, I volunteered with the rest of my teammates to marshal race corners and help out with tear down or the course. Teammate Ian offered to drive me home which was a great way to recap what each of us did wrong. Both disappointed with our race we agreed tomorrow would be better.

The next day was more of the same but with a carb heavy lunch and lots and lots of fluids all day long. The weather was perfect and I got in a solid warm up. Once the race started I kept to the inside corners and dug a little deeper, breathed like there wasn't enough air the atmosphere to fill my lungs, and stayed on the wheel of my teammates. As we rounded the last corner, I caught the inside and it shot me ahead of some strong riders.  I sprinted like a maniac for the finish. Ian got on my back wheel and I pulled him to a 6th place finish and as I crossed the line I had grabbed the 8 spot. Flying pretty high the conversation on the ride home was all positive.

Day three was cold and I had dressed for warm and I felt it was the fastest race of the series. The course was also reversed so we were now making right turns. This changed the dynamic in one huge way. The stretch to the finish would be a 60 yard straight away. I stayed as close as I could but I just couldn't keep up. I swear I was pulling 30 mph just to keep the field in view. I found a rider from Team Tuxedo Thunder that was struggling with me so we made our own pack and raced against each other which made for a fun sprint between the two of us. The results put me in the middle of 40 racers for the night. Thankfully I had some friends to cheer me on that night as it gave the night some extra meaning.

The finale of the series was the best yet. It was the coldest night and I dressed better and warmed up with pants and a jacket on. The pace was perfect.  The course was familiar and my jitters were at a minimum. Breathing went well, I took my corners smart, and all of us Half Acre Teammates were in a blue train at the front for a half lap. Feeling good as the final lap cowbell rang I tried to corner wisely and as the final turn came I was on the outside which I would have thought was a bad move but I had a wide open view to the top 3 sprinters so I sped up and started my sprint. Unfortunately the finish line was misjudged by about ten yards. As is topped out on my sprint no longer able to accelerate I held my pace as Ian passed me. It was an exciting finish that I felt good about. Ian checked the standings and came back with a big ol' smile on his face. He placed 6 and I placed 7 with fellow teammate Sean in at 8.

This bike racing stuff is a blast but chilling with the team is really where its at.
Check out the photos here and official news and standings here

Racing in the Street

Me in the Team Kit

The team kit has come in along with the USA Cycling license with the Half Acre Cycling team affiliation.  Relationships with team members are developing and I am registered for my first criterium race, The Gapers Block Crits at Calumet Park on Chicago's south side.  In preparation for the race some team members and I headed out to the Museum Campus for some practice after work.  The crew started as 4: Ian, Michael, Sean, and myself.  Vanessa joined us later for some racing and we were 5.
View Museum Campus Practice Crit in a larger map

The street dead ends at the planetarium with two large median separating east/west traffic. The streetlights light up the area great so we rode into the evening with no issues.  From this peninsula you get a great view of the city.  I have often come here to take pictures of the skyline.  The temps were spring like with 60°+ and wind gusts at 40mph. from the south.  It made the south east corner turning west down right scary.  We practiced turns solo and then 2X2 followed that up by hitting it at speed.  After that we took a 3 lap race which found me overtaking the leader in the final sprint for the win.  Once it was all said and done I gazed at the view in the top notch weather feeling lucky to be in such a great city.  15 miles of riding in a circle and it was time to pedal home.  The "Go Fast" bike, true to its name, was picked up by the wind and sailed us home in record time.  Not bad for a Wednesday after work.

Team Ride

View Half Acre Team Ride in a larger map
Sunday I pedaled out with the Bicycle Team I joined in January.  It was the first time I rolled out with the other members.  There were about 12 of us riding two by two for most of the ride up to Highland Park.  All of the riders met at the Damen Brown Line stop around 9:15am.  After we decided that we had everyone that was coming we hit the road cruising north up Damen towards Evanston where we met up to Sherridan Rd and hit that up to Green Bay Rd where a group of us including me got on it for a sprint into Highland Park.  The route ended at Perfect Blend Coffee where another crew of cyclists were already hanging out.  It must be a popular route because there were plenty of cyclists riding through town.  We didn't stay long before we were back on the pedal monsters heading back to Chicago.  I was on my "Go Fast" bike which is what I call my Specialized Allez Pro from the late 90's.  Mine was certainly the oldest bike there and I knew it would be so I dolled it up the night before with some fresh grip tape, tires and a new saddle I'd been meaning to swap for some time now.  There was a brand spanking new Giant in the mix and the rear wheel got up close and personal to a pothole on the way back.  The pothole won.  Not only did the rider get a flat but she broke a spoke too.  By the end of the ride the rear wheel had a nice little wobble.  The plan was to head right back to the shop she purchased it at to warranty it out.  I hope it all goes smoothly for her.  What a bummer.  On a positive note the weather was great, around 45°, and the crew was topps.  The ride was pretty social.  There was talk about racing but it wasn't too technical.  It was more on the theme of what races and in what towns everyone was interested in.  Shop talk was minimal.  Don't get me wrong I like talking "bikes" but if that is all we have in common it could get old quick and that was really not the case.  The route wrapped up around 1:15pm with about 40 miles behind us and I felt great by the end.  Oh and I think there was a football game on later that night.     

The Versatile Blogger

So there is a little award thing going around that has found it way to me. Its called The Versatile Blogger and as far back as I have traced it I don't see too many other dudes who have received it so consider me flattered two times.  I have made two friends that started with brief in-person interaction and carried on ten fold by way of writing.  A pen pal you could say.  My Kiwi friend Susie whose emails brought me to England and New Zealand to visit.  I was also able to show her Chicago a few times.  The other keeps the blog Existimatio which I link to off to the side of this site.  Her comments are always welcome surprises and they encourage me to write more often.  She has tossed the nomination to Medio-Core Chicago.  Apparently there are rules involved such as 7 things about me and nomination to other blogs.  Its a little like those "forward this to a million people" things but Ill bite.

Thanks Theresa.

These are the rules:

1. Nominate 15 bloggers for the award.  
2.  In the same post, add the award.
3. Thank the blogger that nominated you, and give the link back to their blog.
4. Share 7 random things about yourself.
5. Include the rules in the post.
6. Inform every blogger that you nominated of their nomination by leaving a comment on their blog.

1. At nine years old I flew over my bicycle handle bars and chipped my two front teeth.
2. I still want to be an Astronaut.
3. Airport bars are my favorite. 
4. I pinned a microphone on George Lucas.
5. In the summer of 2004 I was in the Pacific and Atlantic oceans, by way of land, within 7 days.
6. I love a good junk yard.
7. I used to drive a John Deere Tractor for a living.

The whole 15 blogs thing aint gonna happen. My variation:  These are the newest blogs I'm paying attention to.

Biking in Tandem 
Schwartzography
Semi-Rad.com

Snow Shoe Action at LaBagh Froest Preserve.

The snow started falling Friday morning and there was about a 8-10 inches by the time it was all done with about 6 of that on the streets by the time I got out of work.  My bike ride to the happy hour at the Empty Bottle was quite the journey.  Milwaukee Ave which is one of main routes to the north western neighborhoods was jam packed with cars and my bike was fishtailing like crazy.  Once I got to the intersection of Ogden and Milwaukee the cars were gridlocked.  I maneuvered my bike through and it was a beautiful sight.  For a mile and a half to Augusta st. not one car came up behind me I had the road all to myself.  Quite the experience.  The night ended at the California Clipper which was a nice respite from the Alberta Clipper which gave us the snow and biting cold.

With a bit of a late start and a gift certificate to REI burning a hole in my pocket I headed out to purchase some snow shoes to have some fun in the powder that had fallen.  I had rented the MSR EVOs a year or two back to hike the Indiana Dunes and had a blast.  However I ended up going with the Atlas Snowfall.   The EVOs have some really heavy duty crampons and serrated edges which make them more suited for glacier summits.  Well I don't know if you noticed but the glaciers left the Midwest at the end of the Ice Age.  I'm a big fan of buying gear for what you do not what you want to do.  These Atlas shoes are light and ridiculously simple.  There is no hinge just a piece of thick vinyl that flexes with your foot.  K2 is the parent company and not over engineering the shoe let them drop money on a great binding system.  Any how they are cheap and light and perfect for what you can get into on the occasional snow dump in the flat-lands.


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I tried them out at LaBagh Forest Preserve. I took my mountain bike out there this summer and it lends itself to snowshoeing and cross country skiing perfectly.  By the time I got there the sun was setting and the snow was still fluffy.  It made for some great pictures of the Chicago River.  I rode the bike there with the shoes hanging out of my panniers.  I love the fact that I was able to do the whole day on two wheels.  Enjoy the pics.

This whole family was CC Skiing.  I got to get in on that next time.

 

Of Beer and Bikes

A few years back when my brother was getting hitched I phoned up a local brewery, Half Acre Beer Co., to give us and his buddies a tour.  They had just opened up in the neighborhood of North Center and didn't even have an official tour but they were happy to pour us some brews and give us a spiel.  Having been on a number of brew tours this one stands out as one of the best.  One of the owners led the tour and it was mostly about how they run a small business.  It was a nice break from the old standby of ingredients and process talk.  The beer was great and the dudes working there were super cool.   Immediately I knew that I wanted to live within walking distance and that this was going to be my new neighborhood.  When my lease was up later that year that's exactly what happened.  Breweries and churches used to be town anchors in fact North Center was originally called St. Ben's due to the huge church in town.  Prohibition put a stop to the brewery and it seems that only now the local brewery is coming back to communities.  I mean it when I say communities too.  When I fill up my growler I ride my bike though the bay door and rest it against a wall of the inside of the brewery and I might hang out for a while before pedaling off.  Much to my excitement I found out they sponsor a bicycle team.  With my bicycle crew no longer in Chicago I was in dyer need for people to ride with, so when my friend Laurie from work said she joined Half Acre Cycling, I asked her to put in a good word for me.  Much to my surprise she sponsored me to join.   Within a month I became a member.  I have raced in exactly one criterium and that is the extent of my competitive cycling.  I have now committed myself to 7 races this year.  I figured a few road, mountain, and possibly cyclo-cross too should make for a fun year.   Hitching my wagon to this brewery has been coming up aces for sure. 

Cascade Mountain Dec 31-Jan 1

Jenny, Me, Colleen, Rachelle, Steve.  Taking some turns at Cascade.

Seven of the last ten years I have brought in the new year by skiing.  It started as my first introduction to my career as a ski bum when I rang in the new century.  Since resort life meant work would be mandatory on the 1st, getting blotto drunk was out of the question.  This has led to a sober start to the upcoming 365 as a byproduct.  Now I can't imagine a better way to start the year.  I get the holiday off now and I commit myself to something physical as a celebration of the new year, to start things off right so to say.  I figure I'd rather look forward to the new year instead of hating life nursing a hangover all day.  The years that I couldn't get out to the mountains I dragged out the mountain bike and got in some single track.  Some years, just as this year, I drove up to Wisconsin to enjoy the Midwest's down hill skiing.  The crew this time around were my friends Steve and Rachelle. Rachelle was learning to ski for their upcoming Colorado ski trip (which makes me infinitely jealous).  Along with two other gals, Colleen and Jenny.  We chose Cascade Mountain which is in Portage, WI. within 3hrs of driving its the best skiing option in my opinion.  They had plenty of man made snow.  Talking to some of the folks on the chairlift they said it is the best snow of all the Wisconsin resorts.  Cascade had fireworks at 8pm on New Years Eve so we stuck around to see them, then headed into town for dinner and drinks.  The bar we chose to countdown to midnight was a local hang out for sure, it was clear that none of us graduated from the local high school.  The night was spent at a Super 8 off the highway and they had a gangbusters continental breakfast for getting us ready to ski a second day.  My buddy's wife really picked up the two sticks on her feet by the end of the second day and we hit the road early enough to get back to Chicago by 7pm.       

Rachelle, Steve and Me

I took the opportunity to see how the helmet cam works in the snow. Enjoy!

Timothy H. O'Sullivan: The King Survey Photographs

Currently on view at the Art Institute of Chicago is the exhibit of Timothy H. O'Sullivan: The King Survey Photographs.  O'Sullivan cut his teeth in photography by documenting the civil war for Mathew Brady.  After the war his field photography skills led him to succeed outside the studio and naturally he became a Survey Photographer.  Never again will the intersection of adventure, science, art, and naturalist meet so symbiotically.  Such is the life of of the westward expansion era survey photographer.  These photographs were taken at the same time as John Muir's first visit to the Sierra Nevada. Some even predate Muir's exit from the Midwest.  O'Sullivan was brought to the Fortieth Parallel by Clarence King to survey the area for industrial development.  Gritty views of Mono Lake, Donner Pass, Pyramid Lake, and the Wasatch Mountains hang on the gallery walls alongside images of the mining and railroad industry and geothermal formations.  These photographs captivate the eye as much as the imagination.

 

 

The exhibit is on view until Jan, 15 2012.