Third Thoughts

Thundershowers last evening and a clear night have produced a cool morning, just 15C as I roll my bike to the front drive. We have a job offer in Boulder, of great relief after many months of looking and hoping, but I told Mary Lou I had second thoughts. My early morning ride gives me the opportunity to develop and enjoy third thoughts. One can’t get this smell and taste of clean fresh air in many other places we might live.

I start with an easy short climb up Lookout ridge, to take the road north to Niwot. From the ridge I enjoy an awesome view, so wide and broad I don’t think a camera could capture it. I see all the peaks along the continental divide in bright sharp early morning sun. Long’s Peak stands very prominent, directly across. Not much snow up there. Below I see the forested foothills and the broad valley between those hills and this ridge. Five hot air balloons have launched to enjoy the stable air and morning views; two of those drift across the valley fields at an altitude below me. I can locate the approximate destination of this ride, perhaps 10 miles as the crow flies (17 miles on the road, it will turn out), almost 800 meters of climb, and an hour or more away. People travel long distances and pay large fees for views not nearly as good as this.

I cross the Diagonal Highway at Niwot and immediately ride into the hay fields of northern Boulder county. I know these smells - grass and alfalfa. I have watched haying in progress over the past week. The rain last night will have disrupted the drying process, but not for long. As I turn west on Nelson Road I see old friends - red-winged blackbirds sitting on the fence posts. Watching for you, they seem to say. I ride just north of the Table Mountain antenna farm. I see the sign at the gate: Dept. of Commerce, but also US Geological Service. Hmm. Does UNAVCO have an installation here? I know they have one south of Boulder, at Marshall mesa. What could they do if they had two, perhaps with a line of sight across Boulder Valley?

I see many horses along the route - hard to believe how many horses live in northern Boulder County. A perfect morning for a horse - green grass, cool temperatures, and fresh air. I pass two of the larger stables, Triple Creek and Autumn Hill. Not much going at Triple Creek, and although their property includes small flat areas at the base of the arroyo, most of their horses stand on the slopes - not good for Tetley. Autumn Hill has abundant trailers and much early activity - I can see riders warming up. Mary Lou and Tetley could certainly keep themselves busy here.

I slow at the turn onto Left Hand because of all the bikes and cars. Thirty or forty cyclists and bikes spread across the road and shoulders, preparing for their rides, and cars carrying more bikes looking for parking. I make my way carefully and slowly through the group, wondering - will all these people ride up to Ward today? A few miles up, riding at my own pace, I have complete peace - a smoothly-operating noiseless bike on a smooth quiet steadily-ascending road, hearing occasionally the buzz of a humming bird but mostly my breathing interspersed with the rush of the creek down the canyon.

A few small rocks on the road - geology and erosion in action. I should work on climate and the Arctic - many people want me to continue in that mode. But, how, and from where? Who will speak for IPY in the future? Not me, that job will end and six months later I will no longer have either the status or the credibility. UNAVCO has good challenges, to understand the solid planet and its surprising surges and pulses. I could propose some new options to go with the GPS monitoring, such as acoustics. And they have the daunting challenge of attracting new and especially minority students into geosciences - a good challenge for me. I often say that we need more and more effective science communication more than we need more science - now I could act on that provocative statement. And what better story to tell than the urgent need to understand, using GPS systems, the rise of the Greenland land mass as the ice sheet unloads off the top?

I know these curves and steeps. Here, once, Gus made a surge and I followed, and we dropped a larger group of strong riders. Around the next curve, the road splits for Jamestown. Ah, of course, many people will ride not to Ward (another 11 miles up hill with some very steep stretches near the top) but to Jamestown, 3 miles up that way, for breakfast. I vaguely remember the Lee Hill road to intersect around mile 7, but now I see it already just after mile 6, arriving before I had time to collect my breath or prepare. The short but very steep northern ascent of Lee Hill - I take it very comfortably in not my lowest gear nor my highest heart rate. I crave these challenges, and the fitness I have developed from these long hard climbs served me very well back in the pulmonary crisis days of August 2008.

I race the descent, smile on my face, streaking past riders laboring on the long climb from the south. Sam can carve many of these turns at full speed but I touch the brakes and go more cautiously. Sixteen minutes to warm up and enjoy the views, 83 minutes for the full climb (now I have a time standard to improve on!), and only 31 minutes from the top back to my starting point. My half-humorous half-dangerous determination to maintain my maximum achieved speed on a bike above my age? No worries, the switch to metric units solves the problem. My GPS cyclometer (I told UNAVCO I have a lot of personal experience with GPS systems) shows that I hit 72 km/hr on the descent.

Three weeks ago, on a Sunday morning in Oslo, after Sam and Melissa had delivered the Polar Resource Books just in time, I said to the assembled teachers and students “There is no place I would rather be or task I would rather do this morning.” Absolutely and genuinely true, for that event and that moment, one of the final fun activities for me in IPY. I can say the same for today’s ride on a Sunday morning - where could I find a more challenging, beautiful and enjoyable ride?

Both boys have gone, Sam this morning, Gus a few days ago. Great visit, too short, but now Mary Lou and I think ahead to our flight tomorrow evening and to activities in Cambridge.

Today Mary Lou and I ran down through Golden Gate park to the beach, and then south along the beach to the zoo. The fog cleared to give us a very nice day, quite warm on the beach with the sun in our faces and the wind at our backs. A vigorous surf and a very high tide pushed us to the upper limits of the beach in the narrow stretches. Sam and I ran the reverse route yesterday, uphill and much faster. We three (Dave, Mary Lou and Sam) ran various routes through the park and along the beach during our week together. On New Year's eve the three of us joined more than 100,000 other people down near the ferry building, an easy walk from our hotel, for the midnight fireworks.

With Gus, we shopped, drove up to Muir Woods (for a picture, see Mary Lou's blog at www.tettimes.blogspot.com), and rode the cable cars. We walked along the bay and visited the Exploratorium. We ate at California, Chinese, Mexican, vegetarian, and Spanish restaurants, some of them excellent. We also made frequent stops at one or the other of the nearby Whole Foods groceries for our snacks and supplies.

Earlier, before family members arrived, I took the train to Redwood City to see my Swanson cousins (picture above). From left to right, for those of my friends and siblings who do not know: Barbara (daughter of Harry), Evelyn, Betty and Elaine (daughters of Clarence), Vincent (son of Art) and Dave (son of Lorraine). Barbara lives in Bakersfield and had driven up to visit her step-son in San Francisco. Vincent came over from the east Bay. Evelyn, Betty and Elaine live in Redwood City.

We had great fun, laughter and conversation and pictures. Elaine teases Vincent mercilessly, and he gives the same right back. We started on health and family news, what we knew about siblings and cousins not present. We then talked about pets (stimulated by the local cat), which led to horses and pictures. Once we had started on the Cambridge pictures from my iTouch, we rapidly moved to the old Swanson pictures and the enjoyable discussions about who made what visits, California to Illinois or vice versa, when, about who moved from where to where and when, and about small things we remember about visits, trips, or locations from Honey Crick, Wisconsin to Geneva, Illinois to Arvin, California. We enjoyed our afternoon together. I rode with Barbara back north into San Francisco that evening. Later, Mary Lou, Sam and Gus and I met again with Evelyn, Betty and Elaine at the San Francisco airport on the day Gus arrived.

For Mary Lou and I, a long flight overnight on Sunday will get us back in London around mid-day on Monday, and back in Cambridge by the end of the afternoon. We hope.

Riding into dusk

I rode my bicycle on the Cambridgeshire roads today, my first outdoor ride in 7 weeks. I experienced the usual mess getting across Cambridge - crowds of pedestrians spilling off the pavement (sidewalk), many other bicyclists, helmet-less and clue-less, traveling unpredictably in all directions, buses tight against the curb to give on-coming buses room to pass on the narrow streets. A few blocks of congestion, a few confrontations with cars, a few stretches where wet leaves covered the bike paths. Then out, finally, into the countryside, starting on the gentle hill of the military cemetery.

The roads hadn't dried much from yesterday's rain. In shaded places they stay wet for weeks in this weather. I had given the briefest thought to riding the Black Sheep, but I had the correct bike for the conditions - the Surly.

I half intended this as an easy ride, longer but no more intense than two short rides I had done on the trainer earlier this week. The setting sun gave me a bit of surprise - so early? I guess I haven't settled in to this time zone. I picked up the pace a bit, steady but not extreme, and starting estimating time till sunset and time remaining on the ride.

The sun set into a low bank of clouds before I made the turn at Dry Drayton, but I got a break when it re-appeared for a few minutes below the clouds and above the horizon as I pedalled the gradual descent into Toft. I reached back to switch on my rear flashing light as I turned east, confident that I had just about the right amount of light remaining for the distance back to Cambridge.

I used the famous (in our family) trick I learned from Gus and Sam: sunglasses. When on a ride that might extend into dusk, wear sunglasses. As visibility seems to drop, removing the sunglasses gives an extra ten or fifteen minutes of 'enhanced' daylight. I suspected as I cleaned the sunglasses before the ride that I might need to use this trick, and I smiled to think of Gus or Sam racing down one of the steep Boulder roads toward home as the daylight faded.

I did have lights, rear and front, which Gus or Sam never had. But of course I rode in traffic, while they often descended narrow trails. And in my case, removing my sunglasses also removes my vision correction, a problem they (knock wood) don't have. Tonight, good timing improved by a bit of effort, and the sunglass trick, got me back into Cambridge as the streetlights came on. Then I turned on my front light as well, to make myself more visible to the city traffic. Not a bad ride.

Written from Edmonton, Canada. Saturday evening. Some of our partners have arrived, some remain in transit due to delays at Heathrow. Not unusual. My fourth week in Canada, one full week ahead.

I thought about bringing my bike, and decided not. I would only have had 5 or 6 days of riding, and Edmonton does not represent my idea of a good bike town. It has paved bike paths along the river and through the campus, but no serious hills.

I did bring my running shoes, but without real confidence about how much I could run on a very sore right heel. With some rest and with some yoga / stretching (may I recommend the book 'The Athlete's Pocket Guide to Yoga' by Sage Roundtree), combined with nice weather and very nice soft running paths on the route mapped above, I have had two good weeks of running.

I have run 10 days of the past 15, with 30 km one week and 41 km this past week. I can't claim perfect smooth pain-free running, or a lack of pain afterwards, but I have done a lot more than I thought possible. I should get another longish easy run, 10k or more, tomorrow. On paths like the one above.

Weather predicted to turn colder, and from tomorrow evening I have three very full days, morning to evening every day. Perhaps a run or two at the end of the week, then on my way home.

Le Tour, my tour and a tour

Le Tour ended as expected, Contador well ahead. As expected at least by those not within the LA cult. I think he showed amazing strength and endurance in this tour, for any age. Chapeau, as they say. But I think the American reporters and American fans gave him a ridiculous amount of attention - every day, every performance, every comment. For this group, Lance could and should win any day, time trial or climb, and if Contador did not cooperate, either passively by losing, or actively by riding LA's race rather than his own, then blame and condemn Contador for a lack of team cooperation. Contador put time on LA in every stage that mattered, and put time on everyone else almost easily, whenever he wanted. He earned this win. Many very strong young riders showed their strength - Contador, Schleck, Nibali, Martin, Wiggins.

My tour - a nice bike ride this morning. Rode easily yesterday, planned a longish ride in the Cambridge hills today, multiple loops to get maximum amount of climbing - really the Cambridge hills need a gentler verb than 'climb' - per ride. But when I saw the low wind speeds early, unusual for East Anglia, I knew I had to try a fast loop. Glad I did.

A tour - here, I use the word in the sense of a trip, a visit. We would like to have our summer options settled, so that we could, perhaps, plan a trip (tour) to see the boys. But we need to resolve the Oregon option, one way or another, first. With that option, we would try to arrange a trip, quickly, for resettlement reasons and to see Gus and Sam. Without that option, we realized this week, we probably can't afford trips in either direction this summer; we might plan smaller tours locally. I thought, after all the fussing about video conferences and board meetings at the weekend, that we would know something by now. Soon, I hope. Soon.

Only the shoes

Bicycles again. Madingley loop again today, on the ride home from work. My 6th or 7th time on that route, sometimes with more than one loop, in the last ten days. Convenient in unsettled weather. But at the weekend I took the Black Sheep on two longer rides, other routes. Good rides, on a completely silent bike - finally no squeaks! Now, in the rare moments of smooth pavement and light wind, I can hear the noise of my shoes, a gentle quiet creak of leather on leather. Sounds olde. And slow.

We went to London yesterday, to join friends from Boulder for dinner - they have come to England for a few weeks of scientific visits. Mary Lou and I went early to visit the Royal Mews. About as close to the royalty and palaces as I want to get. Only a few (four) horses, but we did enjoy the audio tour.

What a colossal waste of funds, I think, all those fancy cars and carriages and clothes and harnesses. And who needs, really, a Master of the Horse? On the other hand, the royal support continues a tradition and craft that goes back 600 years. How, without royal support, could one imagine keeping fine carriages and fine horses? We did learn that The Queen personally selects which carriage for which event. Oh, well done. If we could only have the craft traditions without the royalty traditions.

We walked to a park along the Thames, unusual for its grass and trees (plane trees, of course) immediately at the river's edge. Most of the Thames through London has concrete and pavement. I call the little park we visited Parliament park, as it lies just up-river of the Parliament buildings. On the map it might have the label Millbank Park. From there we walked to meet our friends at their hotel, and then through James Park to dinner just off Trafalgar Square. We caught a distant glimpse of the fourth plinth; we will have to return for a more careful look.

Black Sheep again

I rode my Black Sheep bicycle this weekend, Saturday and Sunday. Hammered a bit, both days. I have not ridden it since mid-June, more than three weeks. It continues to squeak, from the seat or the seat post. I disassembled and lubricated the seat mount yesterday; I will clean and lube the seat post next. Despite that annoying squeak it rides beautifully, fast and smooth.

Why haven't I ridden it for three weeks? Weather - I tend to ride the Surly in wet conditions. Travel - we had the week in Oregon and then I had the next week in Svalbard. Tiredness - from all the travel, I feel no need to ride the good bike if I don't have the energy to ride hard. Road conditions - many of the roads I ride had fresh chip seal (rocks in fresh tar) in the past two or three weeks, a good reason, especially in warm weather, not to ride your best bike. Uncertainty - about the Oregon job, about the IPO funding, about our summer plans, all distract me from my exercise goals. Then, a little rest, a bit of good weather, a renewed intensity, and back on the good bike - what a pleasure!

I devoted most of my time this weekend to video processing. I uploaded all the remaining Svalbard summer school video clips from the camera and built a nice 10-minute composite; I think Liz and the students will like it. This afternoon I took fresh video of Mary Lou on Tetley, and by the end of evening we had watched it twice and processed an extract for Mary Lou's blog. We will see if Tetley fans around the country, no, the hemisphere (!) can view it.

Back to the IPO office in BAS tomorrow, after several weeks of working mostly from home. The interim admin assistant starts tomorrow, next phase in the IPO. Both of us, Mary Lou and I, deal with swine flu in our workplaces. We prefer to believe what we read about partial immunity for people our age.