In a new low, University of Alabama football coach Lou Saban compares last week's 21-14 loss to Louisiana-Monroe to the 9/11 terrorist attacks and Pearl Harbor.
In related news, President Bush has urged Congress to appropriate $5 Billion of supplemental funding to improve the Crimson Tide's pass defense and refused to make any comment on rumors that the University of Florida’s mascots are unusually resistant to water boarding.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Tuesdays with David?
Nevermind Morrie, perhaps David Sedaris can illuminate life's important lessons.
Check out this press release from the University of Iowa News Services.
Check out this press release from the University of Iowa News Services.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
The Wolpack tears apart the Falcons
I was driving home last week and I passed a van from Algona High School* on I-380 in Cedar Rapids. I starting thinking that was strange and a moment later realized that the Girl's State Volleyball Tournament was underway at the US Cellular Center.
I thought this might be a fun event to take the kids to and just generally a fun event so, in spite of having no connection to any of the schools participating and not even any particular affinity for the sport, we went to the evening session last Friday night.
Naturally, there was some initial resistance from Evan (Amelia is more adventurous). He was quickly bribed with a trip to Burger King and we headed downtown. I wasn't sure what the parking situation would be like, but was pleasantly surprised to find on-street parking just three blocks from the arena.
Admission was $7 per session. Children not yet enrolled in Kindergarten were free. A group of students waiting in the lobby showed their school spirit with an impressive assortment of silly outfits. One of the strange things about this evening was that we didn't even know what teams were playing. But judging by the silly outfits, at least one school's colors included blue.
We headed up an escalator and were presented with a choice between two entrances. We took the second one and entered into the upper level of the Cellular Center. The floor of the arena was set-up with two courts crosswise, i.e., perpendicular to what would be the natural grain of a basketball court, and divided with a massive net to protect each match from interference by errant volleyballs from the other.
The lower bowl was pretty well full so we settled on upper level seats in the first row. We found ourselves surrounded by a growing contingent of fans from Dike-New Hartford whom were apparently biding their time until the next set of matches scheduled to start at 7:15 PM.
The immediate matches started and I concentrated on corralling the children while trying to figure out what teams were playing. The near (east) court featured a team in white and maroon vs. a team outfitted in black with orange highlights. The far (west) court pitted a blue team against a black team with red highlights. Over the course of the next 90 minutes the team identities were gradually revealed as follows:
White & Maroon = Western Christian
Black & Orange = Applington-Parkersburg
Blue = Holy Trinity Fort Madison
Black & Red = Manning
Because Dike-New Hartford's colors are also blue, I never was sure if the crazy students from the lobby were D-NH fans arriving early or HTFM fans right on time.
Several days earlier when I was considering attending a game, I looked at the brackets and was surprised to see that the smaller school classes 1A and 2A were scheduled in the "prime time" slots. Sitting in the stands, I had some sense of why. The crowds were impressive and the student sections (from Western Christian and Holy Trinity in particular) were well organized and reacted to the ongoing action with choreographed cheers and dances. I'm guessing that the organizers of the tournament (the Iowa Girls High School Athletic Union) gave preferential starting times to the smaller classes for the admirable reason that the games mean more to the smaller communities. I don't know if that's true, but I hope it is. I'll keep this in mind and check out the brackets when the tournaments for the Winter sports come around in the spring.
Western Christian made short work of Applington-Parkersburg and just generally looked like the juggernaut they are (5 state championships in the past 6 years). In spite of the easy win for the Wolfpack, it was enjoyable to watch. Volleyball, like ice hockey, is a sport that shines when seen live and in person. It had been so long since I'd been to a volleyball match, they'd had time to change the scoring system in the interim. Presumably in a nod to television and to make the length of games more predictable, I see that they are now using rally scoring at all times. Sometimes I can be crotchety about stuff like that but, in the case of volleyball, I think all the spirit of the game is retained.
We headed across the arena to the other match which was much more closely fought. (Note that the headline in the link is currently from the wrong game. I'm going to e-mail the author.) We stayed for a game or so and headed home.
All in all, a fun time. I'll make plans for next year. Western Christian went on to defeat Dike-New Hartford in the 2A finals while Holy Trinity fell to Wapsie Valley in the 1A finals. I caught the latter match on IPTV over the weekend.
What an incredible season for Holy Trinity! They won 48 matches this year and lost three. The three losses were to 4A (Iowa's largest class) runner-up Johnston, 2A Champion Western Christian, and 1A Champion Wapsie Valley.
It's quite a fall for Wapsie Valley Warriors too. After bringing home the Volleyball Championship, they're taking on Lawton-Bronson in the Class A Football Championship game this Friday.
* The Algona Bulldogs would go on to lose to the Mt. Vernon Mustangs on Friday afternoon.
I thought this might be a fun event to take the kids to and just generally a fun event so, in spite of having no connection to any of the schools participating and not even any particular affinity for the sport, we went to the evening session last Friday night.
Naturally, there was some initial resistance from Evan (Amelia is more adventurous). He was quickly bribed with a trip to Burger King and we headed downtown. I wasn't sure what the parking situation would be like, but was pleasantly surprised to find on-street parking just three blocks from the arena.
Admission was $7 per session. Children not yet enrolled in Kindergarten were free. A group of students waiting in the lobby showed their school spirit with an impressive assortment of silly outfits. One of the strange things about this evening was that we didn't even know what teams were playing. But judging by the silly outfits, at least one school's colors included blue.
We headed up an escalator and were presented with a choice between two entrances. We took the second one and entered into the upper level of the Cellular Center. The floor of the arena was set-up with two courts crosswise, i.e., perpendicular to what would be the natural grain of a basketball court, and divided with a massive net to protect each match from interference by errant volleyballs from the other.
The lower bowl was pretty well full so we settled on upper level seats in the first row. We found ourselves surrounded by a growing contingent of fans from Dike-New Hartford whom were apparently biding their time until the next set of matches scheduled to start at 7:15 PM.
The immediate matches started and I concentrated on corralling the children while trying to figure out what teams were playing. The near (east) court featured a team in white and maroon vs. a team outfitted in black with orange highlights. The far (west) court pitted a blue team against a black team with red highlights. Over the course of the next 90 minutes the team identities were gradually revealed as follows:
White & Maroon = Western Christian
Black & Orange = Applington-Parkersburg
Blue = Holy Trinity Fort Madison
Black & Red = Manning
Because Dike-New Hartford's colors are also blue, I never was sure if the crazy students from the lobby were D-NH fans arriving early or HTFM fans right on time.
Several days earlier when I was considering attending a game, I looked at the brackets and was surprised to see that the smaller school classes 1A and 2A were scheduled in the "prime time" slots. Sitting in the stands, I had some sense of why. The crowds were impressive and the student sections (from Western Christian and Holy Trinity in particular) were well organized and reacted to the ongoing action with choreographed cheers and dances. I'm guessing that the organizers of the tournament (the Iowa Girls High School Athletic Union) gave preferential starting times to the smaller classes for the admirable reason that the games mean more to the smaller communities. I don't know if that's true, but I hope it is. I'll keep this in mind and check out the brackets when the tournaments for the Winter sports come around in the spring.
Western Christian made short work of Applington-Parkersburg and just generally looked like the juggernaut they are (5 state championships in the past 6 years). In spite of the easy win for the Wolfpack, it was enjoyable to watch. Volleyball, like ice hockey, is a sport that shines when seen live and in person. It had been so long since I'd been to a volleyball match, they'd had time to change the scoring system in the interim. Presumably in a nod to television and to make the length of games more predictable, I see that they are now using rally scoring at all times. Sometimes I can be crotchety about stuff like that but, in the case of volleyball, I think all the spirit of the game is retained.
We headed across the arena to the other match which was much more closely fought. (Note that the headline in the link is currently from the wrong game. I'm going to e-mail the author.) We stayed for a game or so and headed home.
All in all, a fun time. I'll make plans for next year. Western Christian went on to defeat Dike-New Hartford in the 2A finals while Holy Trinity fell to Wapsie Valley in the 1A finals. I caught the latter match on IPTV over the weekend.
What an incredible season for Holy Trinity! They won 48 matches this year and lost three. The three losses were to 4A (Iowa's largest class) runner-up Johnston, 2A Champion Western Christian, and 1A Champion Wapsie Valley.
It's quite a fall for Wapsie Valley Warriors too. After bringing home the Volleyball Championship, they're taking on Lawton-Bronson in the Class A Football Championship game this Friday.
* The Algona Bulldogs would go on to lose to the Mt. Vernon Mustangs on Friday afternoon.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Century One: Ridedate 20071103
One of the milestones for a cyclist is 100 mile ride: a "Century". Over the past several years I've ridden 40-60 miles on many occasions and started thinking about trying a Century.
Last year, I participated in a group ride with a local club. The "Holy Toledo" ride is a yearly event for the Hawkeye Bicycle Association and is organized as a 2-day round trip from Cedar Rapids to Toledo. I rode with the group to Toledo and then continued on to Marshalltown by myself. I enjoy the solitude of riding by myself, but the group ride was great fun. That was my longest ride (89.1 miles) until last Saturday when I tackled a Century.
Cedar Rapids - Mile 0.0
November in Iowa is time to worry about the weather in terms of outdoor activities. But the forecast was reasonably favorable. Highs in the mid 50's with WNW winds increasing in intensity later in the day. Partly cloudy with no appreciable chance of precipitation.
The expected winds concerned me a bit because my planned route was generally Northwest. My impulse was to leave as early as possible in order to mitigate the increasing wind speeds later in the day. However, that brought another concern into play. The low temperature was forecast at 33 degrees around 7 AM. I have the appropriate gear to be comfortable at that temperature. But the earlier I left, the greater the temperature change over the course of the ride and the greater likelihood that I'd experience the joys of both being too cold AND too hot at various points of the ride. One other thing. Sunrise at this time of year is at 7:41 AM so I'd potentially have to carry lights if I really wanted to get a head start. Maddeningly, I was missing the end of daylight savings time and increased morning light by ONE day. Ah well...
Come Saturday morning, I dallied long enough that the light wasn't an issue. I pedaled away at 7:38 AM. The temperature was 34.2 degrees.
Palo - Mile 9.4
I found that my feet were a little cold, my hands were a little cold, but I was generally comfortable. The bracing wind across my face brought a few tears which were then pushed back across my cheeks.
My initial thought was that I take pictures in each little town along the way or as opportunities presented themselves. Sadly, there's just not much to see in Palo. A landscaping company with huge piles of mulch, a convenience store, storage units "Starting at $15.75!", etc...
I was reduced to taking this picture of my shadow on the western edge of town. But I'm glad I did because I was subsequently asked to join a group on Flickr called, appropriately, Bike Shadows.
Shellsburg - Mile 14.3
I rapidly came to Shellsburg. This is an unfair representation of the town, but I just liked the cow pasture backdrop to the sign.
I saw that American Legion Post 166 "Ray & Virginia Brower" is on Main Street in Shellsburg which got me to wondering if that could possibly by the 166th founded post in the nation? I later did a little research and discovered that posts are unique per state.
I've ridden through Shellsburg and Urbana numerous times, but I entered uncharted territory when I turned west on Highway E24. I'd never been to the towns along this stretch of the ride or even travelled across the area by car. We're talking about rural Benton and Tama counties here and not, say, the French Riveria. Still, the sense of adventure and discovery added some helpful excitement to the whole endeavor.
Vinton - Mile 26.1
As I approached Vinton, two bad things happened. First, I came upon an energy generating, i.e., not cosmetic, windmill and found that it was pointed due West. I didn't need any reminding about the headwind. The other thing was that my feet were feeling uncomfortably cold. I was wearing heavier socks than usual and now I started to worry that the fit in my cycling shoes was too tight and I was restricting circulation. I could loosen the shoes, but I didn't want to deal with stopping and talking off my cold-weather shoe covers, etc...
I stopped on the edge of town long enough to eat a granola bar and then pressed on.
Several miles before these Cornstalk Bales, I was briefly chased by two dogs from a farm house. A third dog was either too smart or didn't have the ambition and simply watched.
Garrison - Mile 35.6
By this time -- over two hours into the ride -- I was ready for a pit stop. I pulled into Garrison and found a virtual ghost town. My mistaken assumption was that a town big enough to appear on the map would at least have a gas station. There was a lot of activity at the grain elevator, but just not much else there. I think this shot of Main Street captures some of the desolation.
I ate a Clif Bar on the street corner across from the library. A young Black Lab chained nearby, initially hidden from view, soon emerged to check me out. I made a slow circuit of the town (still no convenience store) and hit the road.
Dysart - Mile 46.3
After the abortive stop in Garrison and down to my final few swallows of water, my expectations of Dysart began to grow. I doggedley pressed into the wind and reasoned that Dysart would reveal itself as Shangri-La. I would surely find an oasis of hospitality to protect me from the blustery plains. Wouldn't I?
As it was, I did. Of course, at that point the notions of Club Med and Casey's were blurring together.
I found downtown Dysart a treat, if a bit deserted. There was an auction at the Methodist Church going on at the time "Lunch Served" which attracted a large crowd. But downtown was tidy, the storefronts were full, and there were GREAT details of America.
I don't know if this is visible in the picture, but the building to the left with the neon insurance sign has an honest-to-goodness stuffed marlin on the wall. You might be able to see the tail above the cab of the red pickup. Here I thought stuffed marlins were only used as movie props, but here's one in the "wild" so-to-speak.
You can see that there's a Masonic Lodge in the Dysart State Bank building to the right. The same building is an official nuclear fallout shelter and (my favorite single detail) check out the burglar alarm on the face of the bank. I can just imagine John Dillinger pulling up in front for a heist, looking up and thinking, "This place has a fancy burglar alarm from Minneapolis! Forget about it; I'm gonna head over to Traer."
I stopped for lunch at a Sinclair station and took stock. By my original estimations, I was hoping to average 16 mph over the course of the ride. However, in just over 3 hours of riding to this point, I was averaging 14.9 mph. Still, crew spirits were high.
By coincidence, my Mom happened to call as I ate. I filled her in about my ride and she decided to drive up to meet me in Lincoln. That gave me a little something extra to look forward to.
Buckingham - Mile 60.3
The lady at the Sinclair station warned me that Buckingham didn't have a convenience store and Lincoln might not either. Coming upon Buckingham, I found it wasn't much more than a smattering of houses huddled around a few elevators. One point of interest was a disused brick school house with 1923 stamped on the face.
I ate another Clif Bar from this vantage point (looking east) and tried to think about something besides the wind... The wind... The west-northwest winds that the weather forecast warned me about and I started to fight so long ago around Vinton were now asserting themselves.
Dinsdale - Mile 66.9
Several miles west of Dinsdale, I came upon my Mom's Beetle traveling in the other direction. She turned around, repassed me, and pulled into a lane about a quarter mile away.
We talked and decided to stop at length in Lincoln. She drove ahead and it was back to the pedals and the wind... The wind...
This was perhaps the most difficult stretch of the ride. I wasn't quite far enough that the end seemed inevitable and, at the same time, Lincoln seemed so close but didn't seem to be geting any closer. I seemed to be spending more and more time in my granny gear (Which I didn't use until the steep hills around Garwin on the Holy Toledo ride.), but the wind was merciless and made modest hills into mountains. I had no room for pride.
Lincoln - Mile 74.6
I limped into Lincoln and was able to sit in my Mom's car and hate the wind in relative comfort. My average speed had plummeted to 13.6 mph. After five and a half hours of riding, I figured I had another two to go. More than anything, I was desperate to turn south and find some sort of relief from the wind... The wind...
It was interesting to walk over to my great grandmother's old house. I didn't have any memories of the inside of the house, but I did remember how the little park was down the block. I also remember that the water had a distinctive metallic taste.
I was originally planning to head through Beaman. But I quickly found that Highway D65 turned into gravel west of T47 so I headed for Gladbrook instead. So the good news was that I was finally not heading west or north. The bad news is that I missed the opportunity to take a picture of the "You're not dreamin, you're in Beaman" sign. At this point, my Mom was serving as some form of an escort/cheerleader.
It brought to mind Smokey and the Bandit (of all things). I was Cledus hauling a figurative load and she was 'Bandit' dashing ahead and periodically reappearing. She couldn't really help me, but she provided a welcome diversion and just generally made things more fun at a time when fun was in short supply.
Come to think of it, it was EXACTLY like Smokey and the Bandit with the exceptions that I (thankfully) didn't have a Bassett Hound with me and we weren't being chased by Jackie Gleason.
Gladbrook - Mile 81.0
The wind... The wind... in a cruel twist of fate, UNBELIEVABLY seemed to have shifted to the southwest. So now I still fought a headwind even when headed due south. In retrospect, I see that the anticipation of escaping the wind was more important than actually escaping it.
Green Mountain - Mile 92.6
The temperature was now dropping along with the failing sunlight. Skies which were clear around 10:00 AM were now fully grey with low clouds. I made a final brief rondezvous with the 'Bandit' in Green Mountain.
Now, the end was trully nigh. My spirits rose as the final miles ticked off although my average speed continued to drop.
Marshalltown - Mile 101.8
I pulled up to my Mom's house and we snapped a few celebratory pictures. It wasn't even a consideration in the trip planning, but the sunset was very nearly a factor. I finished at 5:29 PM with official sunset at 6:03 PM. Here's a link to detailed weather data (Look at that falling barometer!) that day.
In some ways a Century is a lame achievement. Certainly it requires some level of fitness, but I wonder if the most essential component is sheer stubborness. The first half of the ride was truly "fun"; the second half of the ride turned into a slog.
It would have been a completely different (and more enjoyable) experience if I was riding east (There is, after all, a reason that RAGBRAI starts at the Missouri and ends at the Mississippi.) or I made a round trip from Cedar Rapids to Dysart.
Early in the ride, I entertained grandiose thoughts of riding BACK to Cedar Rapids the next day. Later in the ride, I was too busy concentrating on the "next mile" 30-40 times to think about the big picture. Soreness around my neck in the final 30 miles or so was the most painful physical part. My legs felt fine and I was pleasantly suprised to find that I didn't have any numbness in my hands from leaning on the handlebars all day. The next day I felt a little sore all over with loci of pain above my knees. But no big deal; ultimately my body held up well.
Now, almost a week later, I think I'm crazy enough to try it again. I'll plan something for the spring and have all winter to think about it.
Images hosted by
Last year, I participated in a group ride with a local club. The "Holy Toledo" ride is a yearly event for the Hawkeye Bicycle Association and is organized as a 2-day round trip from Cedar Rapids to Toledo. I rode with the group to Toledo and then continued on to Marshalltown by myself. I enjoy the solitude of riding by myself, but the group ride was great fun. That was my longest ride (89.1 miles) until last Saturday when I tackled a Century.
Cedar Rapids - Mile 0.0
November in Iowa is time to worry about the weather in terms of outdoor activities. But the forecast was reasonably favorable. Highs in the mid 50's with WNW winds increasing in intensity later in the day. Partly cloudy with no appreciable chance of precipitation.
The expected winds concerned me a bit because my planned route was generally Northwest. My impulse was to leave as early as possible in order to mitigate the increasing wind speeds later in the day. However, that brought another concern into play. The low temperature was forecast at 33 degrees around 7 AM. I have the appropriate gear to be comfortable at that temperature. But the earlier I left, the greater the temperature change over the course of the ride and the greater likelihood that I'd experience the joys of both being too cold AND too hot at various points of the ride. One other thing. Sunrise at this time of year is at 7:41 AM so I'd potentially have to carry lights if I really wanted to get a head start. Maddeningly, I was missing the end of daylight savings time and increased morning light by ONE day. Ah well...
Come Saturday morning, I dallied long enough that the light wasn't an issue. I pedaled away at 7:38 AM. The temperature was 34.2 degrees.
Palo - Mile 9.4
I found that my feet were a little cold, my hands were a little cold, but I was generally comfortable. The bracing wind across my face brought a few tears which were then pushed back across my cheeks.
My initial thought was that I take pictures in each little town along the way or as opportunities presented themselves. Sadly, there's just not much to see in Palo. A landscaping company with huge piles of mulch, a convenience store, storage units "Starting at $15.75!", etc...
I was reduced to taking this picture of my shadow on the western edge of town. But I'm glad I did because I was subsequently asked to join a group on Flickr called, appropriately, Bike Shadows.
Shellsburg - Mile 14.3
I rapidly came to Shellsburg. This is an unfair representation of the town, but I just liked the cow pasture backdrop to the sign.
I saw that American Legion Post 166 "Ray & Virginia Brower" is on Main Street in Shellsburg which got me to wondering if that could possibly by the 166th founded post in the nation? I later did a little research and discovered that posts are unique per state.
I've ridden through Shellsburg and Urbana numerous times, but I entered uncharted territory when I turned west on Highway E24. I'd never been to the towns along this stretch of the ride or even travelled across the area by car. We're talking about rural Benton and Tama counties here and not, say, the French Riveria. Still, the sense of adventure and discovery added some helpful excitement to the whole endeavor.
Vinton - Mile 26.1
As I approached Vinton, two bad things happened. First, I came upon an energy generating, i.e., not cosmetic, windmill and found that it was pointed due West. I didn't need any reminding about the headwind. The other thing was that my feet were feeling uncomfortably cold. I was wearing heavier socks than usual and now I started to worry that the fit in my cycling shoes was too tight and I was restricting circulation. I could loosen the shoes, but I didn't want to deal with stopping and talking off my cold-weather shoe covers, etc...
I stopped on the edge of town long enough to eat a granola bar and then pressed on.
Several miles before these Cornstalk Bales, I was briefly chased by two dogs from a farm house. A third dog was either too smart or didn't have the ambition and simply watched.
Garrison - Mile 35.6
By this time -- over two hours into the ride -- I was ready for a pit stop. I pulled into Garrison and found a virtual ghost town. My mistaken assumption was that a town big enough to appear on the map would at least have a gas station. There was a lot of activity at the grain elevator, but just not much else there. I think this shot of Main Street captures some of the desolation.
I ate a Clif Bar on the street corner across from the library. A young Black Lab chained nearby, initially hidden from view, soon emerged to check me out. I made a slow circuit of the town (still no convenience store) and hit the road.
Dysart - Mile 46.3
After the abortive stop in Garrison and down to my final few swallows of water, my expectations of Dysart began to grow. I doggedley pressed into the wind and reasoned that Dysart would reveal itself as Shangri-La. I would surely find an oasis of hospitality to protect me from the blustery plains. Wouldn't I?
As it was, I did. Of course, at that point the notions of Club Med and Casey's were blurring together.
I found downtown Dysart a treat, if a bit deserted. There was an auction at the Methodist Church going on at the time "Lunch Served" which attracted a large crowd. But downtown was tidy, the storefronts were full, and there were GREAT details of America.
I don't know if this is visible in the picture, but the building to the left with the neon insurance sign has an honest-to-goodness stuffed marlin on the wall. You might be able to see the tail above the cab of the red pickup. Here I thought stuffed marlins were only used as movie props, but here's one in the "wild" so-to-speak.
You can see that there's a Masonic Lodge in the Dysart State Bank building to the right. The same building is an official nuclear fallout shelter and (my favorite single detail) check out the burglar alarm on the face of the bank. I can just imagine John Dillinger pulling up in front for a heist, looking up and thinking, "This place has a fancy burglar alarm from Minneapolis! Forget about it; I'm gonna head over to Traer."
I stopped for lunch at a Sinclair station and took stock. By my original estimations, I was hoping to average 16 mph over the course of the ride. However, in just over 3 hours of riding to this point, I was averaging 14.9 mph. Still, crew spirits were high.
By coincidence, my Mom happened to call as I ate. I filled her in about my ride and she decided to drive up to meet me in Lincoln. That gave me a little something extra to look forward to.
Buckingham - Mile 60.3
The lady at the Sinclair station warned me that Buckingham didn't have a convenience store and Lincoln might not either. Coming upon Buckingham, I found it wasn't much more than a smattering of houses huddled around a few elevators. One point of interest was a disused brick school house with 1923 stamped on the face.
I ate another Clif Bar from this vantage point (looking east) and tried to think about something besides the wind... The wind... The west-northwest winds that the weather forecast warned me about and I started to fight so long ago around Vinton were now asserting themselves.
Dinsdale - Mile 66.9
Several miles west of Dinsdale, I came upon my Mom's Beetle traveling in the other direction. She turned around, repassed me, and pulled into a lane about a quarter mile away.
We talked and decided to stop at length in Lincoln. She drove ahead and it was back to the pedals and the wind... The wind...
This was perhaps the most difficult stretch of the ride. I wasn't quite far enough that the end seemed inevitable and, at the same time, Lincoln seemed so close but didn't seem to be geting any closer. I seemed to be spending more and more time in my granny gear (Which I didn't use until the steep hills around Garwin on the Holy Toledo ride.), but the wind was merciless and made modest hills into mountains. I had no room for pride.
Lincoln - Mile 74.6
I limped into Lincoln and was able to sit in my Mom's car and hate the wind in relative comfort. My average speed had plummeted to 13.6 mph. After five and a half hours of riding, I figured I had another two to go. More than anything, I was desperate to turn south and find some sort of relief from the wind... The wind...
It was interesting to walk over to my great grandmother's old house. I didn't have any memories of the inside of the house, but I did remember how the little park was down the block. I also remember that the water had a distinctive metallic taste.
I was originally planning to head through Beaman. But I quickly found that Highway D65 turned into gravel west of T47 so I headed for Gladbrook instead. So the good news was that I was finally not heading west or north. The bad news is that I missed the opportunity to take a picture of the "You're not dreamin, you're in Beaman" sign. At this point, my Mom was serving as some form of an escort/cheerleader.
It brought to mind Smokey and the Bandit (of all things). I was Cledus hauling a figurative load and she was 'Bandit' dashing ahead and periodically reappearing. She couldn't really help me, but she provided a welcome diversion and just generally made things more fun at a time when fun was in short supply.
Come to think of it, it was EXACTLY like Smokey and the Bandit with the exceptions that I (thankfully) didn't have a Bassett Hound with me and we weren't being chased by Jackie Gleason.
Gladbrook - Mile 81.0
The wind... The wind... in a cruel twist of fate, UNBELIEVABLY seemed to have shifted to the southwest. So now I still fought a headwind even when headed due south. In retrospect, I see that the anticipation of escaping the wind was more important than actually escaping it.
Green Mountain - Mile 92.6
The temperature was now dropping along with the failing sunlight. Skies which were clear around 10:00 AM were now fully grey with low clouds. I made a final brief rondezvous with the 'Bandit' in Green Mountain.
Now, the end was trully nigh. My spirits rose as the final miles ticked off although my average speed continued to drop.
Marshalltown - Mile 101.8
I pulled up to my Mom's house and we snapped a few celebratory pictures. It wasn't even a consideration in the trip planning, but the sunset was very nearly a factor. I finished at 5:29 PM with official sunset at 6:03 PM. Here's a link to detailed weather data (Look at that falling barometer!) that day.
- Distance: 101.8 miles
- Ride Time: 7:35:40
- Trip Time: 9:58
- Average Speed: 13.3 mph
- Average heart rate: 117 bpm
- Total heart beats: 69,966
In some ways a Century is a lame achievement. Certainly it requires some level of fitness, but I wonder if the most essential component is sheer stubborness. The first half of the ride was truly "fun"; the second half of the ride turned into a slog.
It would have been a completely different (and more enjoyable) experience if I was riding east (There is, after all, a reason that RAGBRAI starts at the Missouri and ends at the Mississippi.) or I made a round trip from Cedar Rapids to Dysart.
Early in the ride, I entertained grandiose thoughts of riding BACK to Cedar Rapids the next day. Later in the ride, I was too busy concentrating on the "next mile" 30-40 times to think about the big picture. Soreness around my neck in the final 30 miles or so was the most painful physical part. My legs felt fine and I was pleasantly suprised to find that I didn't have any numbness in my hands from leaning on the handlebars all day. The next day I felt a little sore all over with loci of pain above my knees. But no big deal; ultimately my body held up well.
Now, almost a week later, I think I'm crazy enough to try it again. I'll plan something for the spring and have all winter to think about it.
Images hosted by
Friday, November 2, 2007
Social Lending
I heard an interesting radio piece on the BBC last Tuesday about the emerging practice of Social Lending.
So the "social lending" part is that there are no banks involved. People are borrowing money directly from other people. Rates are lower without middlemen and Zopa, for example, charges .5% transaction fees to the borrowers and .5% annual management fees to the lenders. To reduce risk, lenders' money is split accross many borrowers.
Here's a link to a corresponding article. And here's the FAQ from the flagship social lending site Zopa.com.
I just thought was a cool idea.
So the "social lending" part is that there are no banks involved. People are borrowing money directly from other people. Rates are lower without middlemen and Zopa, for example, charges .5% transaction fees to the borrowers and .5% annual management fees to the lenders. To reduce risk, lenders' money is split accross many borrowers.
Here's a link to a corresponding article. And here's the FAQ from the flagship social lending site Zopa.com.
I just thought was a cool idea.
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