adventure

Twas a good day to ride

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It was a good day to ride.

This time of year mid to late February is the time of year that I become anxious maybe even restless to ride my bike outdoors on the Little Miami Trail.

It was a good day to ride.

It was chilly out. I asked Alexa and it reported that it was 48 degrees outside but I ignored that assessment because the sun was shining outside my windows.

It was a good day to ride.

I read with interest as MSN weather on my computer reported that there was little wind only a light breeze from the south. South is good I thought as I examined the leafless trees and bushes outside the window.

It was a good day to ride.

It is rare that in mid-February in Ohio the weather warms to Fahrenheit’s measurement of 60 and the sun is shining and there is little wind and the LMT macadam will be dry.

It was a good day to ride.

I said in my head, “Remember you haven’t sat on that for twelve weeks or so. Remember to ride with prudence. Remember to look down when you stop, if you stop, and do not put your foot into a hole where you stop.”

It was a good day to ride.

I put my bike and the rest of my equipment in the back of my Nissan Rogue and drove to the end of my road to park in the lot near where I ride on the LMT.

It was a good day to ride.

In the lot as I listened to the battery pump inflate the rear tire of my Trek to 60 pounds per square inch, I looked around the nearby field. No snow. A hawk was flying overhead searching for breakfast.

It was a good day to ride.

As I listened to the pump inflate the front tire, I looked through the rest of my bag to find my helmet and my gloves. Satisfied that I was not missing anything I put my water bottle into its holder on the frame.

It was a good day to ride.

The pump shut off automatically and I disconnected it from the stem, unplugged the battery and placed it back in the bag.

It was a good day to ride.

I clipped my cellphone to its holder on the handle bar, adjusted my little fanny pack with my wallet and keys, made one last check of the car and locked the doors.

It was a good day to ride.

I mounted my Trek and looked at the position of the derailleurs. I had garaged it with both in the proper position for an old man to ride off without straining a hamstring.

It was a good day to ride.

I spun the right pedal up to push off. I took one more look around at the weather, my surroundings and any unnoticed grid lock in the parking area on this beautiful great day to ride in February. I was alone.

It was a good day to ride.

I pushed off and reminded myself, five miles this time, feel the air, listen to your muscles, hear your heartbeat, stop and stretch if I need to do it.

It was a good day to ride.

There were a few walkers. There were a few dog walkers. I rode to 47.5 painted on the LMT surface near a good place for breakfast if I wanted it. I did not.

It was a good day to ride.

I made a U-turn and rode back past the horse paddocks and the lot where I had parked. I rode south to the 50 painted on the macadam. I rode past the portion of the trail trying to slide down the hill. It has needed repair for some time. It is well marked and I ride around the damage.

It was a good day to ride.

I made a U-turn just south of the 50 and on my return to the north I heard a friendly, “On your left!” I replied with, “Thanks” as he went by and thought to myself that he was not going much faster than I was at the time.

It was a great day to ride. And I felt I was home. I was proud of myself for sticking to my five miles today.

Back at the car I reversed the unload process and put all in the back of my Rogue. I started the car and lowered the windows. I ate a few peanuts that I had with me and reflected on how great it was that the universe put me here at this time and gave me the health to enjoy the now.

It was a great day to ride.

On the way home from my first jaunt on the trail, I saw two does by the side of the road chatting about what a great day it was… or simply socializing… or discussing ways to get rid of their winter coats… or hiding from the stags.

Back in my garage I left the bike in the back of the car. Another opportunity could present itself. I need to be present for it.

It is simply a great day.

Carpe Diem.

Toaster Ovens

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Far be it from me to criticize the American appliance industry but I often wonder what jumped into the engineering head of folks who decided a toaster oven was a much needed appliance.  Having a small oven is handy in its own way but why call it a toaster? Why temp us toast lovers with the ability to get warm morning toast when one actually gets the stale bread a week later.

Indeed toasted bread can be achieved in several different ways with one critical ingredient, great heat applied for a short or relatively short period of time. Toaster ovens are unable to do either. Generally they fit into the vast category of “Almost A Great Idea” or AAGI (aw-gee) for short. At one time in the past we owned a toaster oven which also had the ability to roast a chicken. It had a built in rotisserie gizmo to spear the chicken with and rotate through the meager heat source. (aw-gee) After much trial and error we determined that the timer needed to be able to set itself to much more than the 45 minutes on the dial. The heat source warm up is include in this time since it is not instant on. (Alas and aw-gee)

Many devices fit into AAGI. Instapots and Airfriers might be two more. But often it is fun and necessary to use a device with a small heat source that supplies invaluable cleaning expertise and practice.

Microwave ovens supply this valuable expertise as they are able to rapidly take water from liquid to gas in a rice-sized pocket spreading soup or any other suitable substance over the entire inner surface while keeping the rest of the bowl at the temperature of a standard refrigerator. They are remarkable devices. If you ever require rubberized eggs for any recipe, a low wattage microwave is just the perfect solution.

All of these thoughts came to over the past several days as I pondered another stale bread morning in my nephew’s beautiful, quaint and cute little bungalow in Port St. Joe, Florida. My sister and my girlfriend and I spent three wonderful days there this past week.

We drove in my car so we did not have the wonderful packing experience of making everything fit into one suitcase. We took our time. We stopped occasionally to look for best toilet facilities. We visited Bukee’s in Alabama. No soft serve ice cream at Bukee’s which is a sad state of affairs. (aw-gee) We stopped at the Shrimp Lady which claims to be restaurant-ish on Google Maps. It is not but we bought 2 pounds of shrimps as big as my thumb that came off the boat 20 – 30 minutes previously. Over the next couple of days we ate them as shrimp and cheesy grits, and shrimp with garlic, onion, green pepper and spaghetti with marinara and generous Parmesan cheese.

Did the two most important women in my life just bring me along to cook and drive the car? It was a great trip.

Back to the toaster oven. It is a fine device in its own way but entirely unsatisfactory for making toast in the morning. The Nespresso Virtuo, however, makes excellent coffee one cup at a time, every time, as long as the special pods and a water source are nearby. Foamy luxurious coffee.

We are back home in Ohio. The forsythia in the back is just opening itself. The daffodils are poking up and wondering what the forsythia can see that they cannot. The forest view through my window is greenish against the browns and grayness.

Daylight saving? Time is here. And as Debbie says, “the light is returning to the planet”

I am off to ponder a method of saving the daylight and fold the laundry from the trip.

Carpe Diem.