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.

A busy trip to Svalbard

In the picture, five undergraduate students and one old guy puzzle over oceanographic data from a Svalbard fjord. The students come from (counter-clockwise) Germany, Netherlands, USA (Fairbanks), USA (Seattle - you can just see her nose and her finger to her mouth), and Norway (with his hand to his head). Do those small pulses in the near-surface salinity data correspond to weather events?

I felt their enthusiasm and energy and saw video of many of their activities so I know they enjoyed three weeks of exploration, adventure and research in Svalbard. I enjoyed spending most of the third week with them, 24 students in total. And I enjoyed working with the staff of the summer school, all of whom I know and all of whom give me credit for supporting this idea more than a year ago when it first popped up during a meeting in Strasbourg.

While setting up my first presentation to this group (on how to give a good presentation!), I already had a request: could I also speak about IPY to another larger international summer school, for PhD students sponsored by the Norwegian Institute for Air Research. Sure, if by doing it I save a friend and partner some work. Then, afternoon of the second day, while helping another friend set up her presentation, I got a call from Oslo: "Dave, I missed my flight, I know you are in Longyearbyen, can you speak to a group of business leaders on the topic Arctic Change with Global and European Impacts". Well, sure, I can do that one as well, by recycling and refreshing a presentation I gave a few weeks ago to the Nordic prime ministers, for this group: Council of Directors of European Industrial Federations.

Add a morning of listening to presentations by 'our' students, an afternoon of discussing and evaluating their posters, a few interviews, a few hours of processing videos, and an IPY presentation to the full UNIS (University Centre in Svalbard) staff, and I had few minutes to spare during a four-day visit. Everything worked well, I got complements on all the presentations, and I saw the students pick up many of my suggestions in their presentations. Finally, after several previous unsuccessful attempts, I managed to get all the way from Longyearbyen back to Cambridge in a single day.

On our 'Vacation'

I hurry to use this image on my blog before Mary Lou uses it on hers. We took fresh horse pictures yesterday - perhaps those will distract her for a few days. In this image I see us enjoying time together in a beautiful location, amidst turbulence and uncertainty.

As we departed Eden St for the rail station, the taxi driver gave us a fresh and friendly send-off, inquiring about our journey and interested in our plans. At the station we met, to our surprise, N.O., dressed, to our further surprise, for Ascot: top hat, tails, grey waistcoat, pressed shirt and pink tie, special Ascot trousers, polished plain-toe black oxford shoes. On the train he explained this mandatory apparel with good humour before we launched into an enjoyable discussion of the the periodic table and IPY chart. What will you do in Oregon?, he asked. I dissembled: friends, our kids born there, chance for some time together. But hadn't we already told the taxi driver about our job interview?

We flew Heathrow to Chicago, and then on to Portland. We had nice views of Greenland, but the flights, especially the second leg, seemed endless. We did have good leg room thanks to preferential seating on United. The immigration agent in Chicago also asked about our plans. Oregon, he asked? Middle of nowhere. Rather, we agreed, edge of nowhere. (Edge visible in the picture above.) Helpful driver to the car agency, drove the rental car to a hotel in central Portland, sleep. End of a long day.

Awake, exhaustion not withstanding, by 3 am. We opened the laptop, checked emails (particularly to find information about our accommodations in Newport, which we had not, until that point, received), and then explored. We identified the nearest Whole Food grocery and noted its opening time. We used our browsers and Google Earth to find the locations of horse boarding stables from a list sent to us, and we searched for additional equestrian centers. Planned our day's activities. I worked on my presentation. Arrived at Whole Foods as the doors opened for business. Should we eat breakfast first, or buy food supplies first? Too tired and hungry to make a decision, I think we did both.

We drove through quiet Sunday-morning Portland, noting of course the bicyclists, into the rich farmland and varied crops of the Willamette and Yamhill valleys, across the forested coast range, and finally down to the coast. We stopped for a view (picture above), a stretch, and a deep inhalation of the fresh fresh air. We continued through Newport south toward Waldport, to explore one possible horse boarding location, all the time enjoying the views, the trees, the hills, and the smooth roads. We toured the Aquarium together (as paying customers), picked up our access card for the guest condo, bought some food at the local coop, and arrived, finally, at our destination.

For the next three days we explored, primarily by car but occasionally on foot, Newport and its surroundings, assessing bike routes, bike stores, libraries (as we have not had one in Cambridge for nearly 3 years!), horse boarding possibilities, housing possibilities, and the beach and coast range environments. Oh, and I did two days of interviews, including a very positive (I felt) presentation to Aquarium staff. We felt welcomed and well-treated, and we enjoyed very nice weather. We visited friends in Corvallis and reminded ourselves of the long drive back to Portland. A couple tens of hours of travel and back to Cambridge.

What did you do on your 'vacation'?, people may ask. Enjoyed some time together in a beautiful location, rediscovered a part of Oregon that we knew only casually, and, perhaps, got a job.

A lowly sign

We had substantial rain during the morning, as forecast.  Mary Lou, developing the radar skills of a nowcaster - someone who predicts weather within the next 30 minutes to 2 hours, tracked the storm movement carefully, watched the trailing echos edge past Cambridge, and predicted the end of the rain and sufficient clearing for an afternoon at the barn.

So on our bikes we went, but following the paved route through the city rather than the gravel path along the river.  At about the fourth or fifth substantial turn, near the end of Izaak Walton Lane, I saw it.  A sign, an omen.  A slug, yellowish-green, on the wet pavement.

To the casual eye, unnoticeable amidst the abundant debris and garbage.  Even to the observant, just a slimy invertebrate.  But I, consumed with hopes and speculations while trying desperately to avoid too high hopes and wild speculations, saw the portent and meaning immediately.  Answer D: It is written.  You can tell which movie we enjoyed last evening.   

We did get to the barn un-dampened, although we crossed through some big puddles along the curbs and in the underpasses.   It rained briefly as we unpacked, donned boots, and set out the horse gear.  And we heard thunder often during the afternoon.  But overall, as Mary Lou predicted, we had a dry and pleasant afternoon.  It is written.  

High Expectations

Months ago, after I had written a modestly pessimistic assessment of IPY progress toward its original goals (I and several others considered my evaluation accurate and realistic), the Joint Committee concluded that I had "too high expectations".  Their assessment of me comes to mind lately, as I consider the remaining tasks of IPY and as I consider future jobs.  

I consider all human endeavors and systems improvable - constantly and relentlessly.  We don't, individually or collectively, always pursue the improvements, of course, but they always, in my mind, beckon, occasionally as linear paths but more often as unexplored possibilities.  I may have picked up the language of this line of reasoning from Isaiah Berlin, but the fundamental motivation of personal improvability probably arises from my nature and nurture, the latter particularly from my mother.  In its best form that motivation should, I hope, translate into humility, empathy, generosity, and tolerance.  In my case it also results in high expectations, applied personally and inherent in my leadership of these grand projects.

I get positive feedback on the improvability theory from bicycling.  Despite modest talent and advancing age, I can see, as favorable weather, reduced travel, and long hours of daylight allow more and more kilometres of riding per week and per month, increased endurance and speed.  Not as much as I would like, of course - room for more improvement!  But Saturday I had a surprisingly good ride, even though I felt tired at the time.  Sunday I came back with not quite the result I hoped for, but with a very good ride nonetheless.   Today, after a day of rest, I went back to work on the improvements by riding in the local hills.  Four times up the steepest local hill I can find within an hour's ride, with a rest on the descent.  The image shows those four loops, elevation (55 metres minimum, 110 metres max) in green and heart rate (85 beats per minute low and 160 bpm high) in red.  Four times, working hard, at a high but not maximal effort, and each time repeatable - same recovery heart rate, same exertion heart rate, even as the speeds stayed the same and in fact got slightly faster.   Hard work but in control, pushing myself, feeling very good on the bike, confident that this workout will help me ride my measured courses at a reduced, or should I say improved, time next week or next month or certainly by the end of the summer.  

Often, working with a new partner provides unexpected improvement.  After recording the interview with Kirsten Murphy for the CKLB show 'Ends of the Earth', I thought I had not done a very good job on the science questions and that we spent too much time on my personal attitudes and behaviours.  Listening to the broadcast, I know that I did overstate - I said we had doubled carbon dioxide when I should have said that we would soon double CO2.  But in the way Kirsten edited and mixed the material, I think the point about science as an honest line of inquiry, free (largely) from political bias, came through surprisingly well and that she helped me, big scientist guy, sound like a rather human, partly funny and partly foolish, fellow.  She helped me present an improved view of science generally and an honest (generally a form of improvement!) impression of myself.  Thanks, Kirsten!

Improvements needed, how do I get them?  In the whole Oslo 2010 conference planning processes.  I have to work with Research Council of Norway to get some influence, perhaps even control, over OO.  I have very high expectations for that conference, expectations that follow directly from what we have achieved and the partnerships we have formed during IPY.  I can't watch those expectations, mine and others, fall and fail.  And as I think about next jobs, about application letters and interviews - how do I convey this sense of improvability not as criticism or arrogance but as optimistic and motivating and enabling?  To cynical, funding-starved groups of employees. 

I found both comfort and motivation in the 'Sleep Furiously' movie.  Even as the community declined, as the population aged and the culture changed, essential human qualities of friendship, compassion, curiosity and humor persisted; the substance and stimulus for improvement.   High expectations founded in the persistent (although unfortunately not pervasive) positive facets of individuals and communities.  

SLOW

SLOW.  I frequently see, and often ride directly over, that word, painted in large white block letters, extending across my lane of the local roads.  On a typical two-hour bicycle ride I encounter SLOW at least 10 and perhaps 20 times or more, at the entrance to and exit from each village or town and at many intersections within or between the towns.  

For an automobile driver the SLOW messages provide a warning of bumps, barriers or chicanes ahead, physical impediments designed to reduce the vehicle's speed.  On my bike I regard the SLOW messages as taunts, invariant and impassive reminders of my pitiful efforts at riding fast.  Like the colourful messages that fans chalk or spray across the road to encourage their favorite bicycle racer up a steep climb, but with a discouraging, perhaps even disparaging, intent.  SLOW as I finish my pretend sprint between towns; don't I know it.  SLOW as I pick up my cadence and raise my heart rate at the leaving edge of town; please don't remind me.  SLOW as the hilly lane I have just climbed merges with a busier road; well I can't go much faster.  SLOW as I ease back into Cambridge after a long ride; pretty much sums it up.

Occasionally I smile as I pass a speed limit sign with two simple digits: 30.  Often I rip past well in excess of 30, but of course I ride kilometres per hour while the sign refers to miles per hour.  Then the next SLOW marker passing beneath my wheels reminds me of Protoslow, a viscous solution used to slow down protozoans in a drop of pond water so one can examine them under a microscope.  I wonder who watches me through a great lens, gradually adding cycloslow to determine at what concentration I lose enough momentum to fall over.  Funny what a long ride can do to an old mind.

Imagine my surprise, then, when not once but twice in the past several days I had to touch brakes as I approached a SLOW mark, a mark I have crossed 30 times already this year.  On the Black Sheep of course, and perhaps with a slight tail wind, but not on a descent, not at an intersection, and not because the traffic ahead slowed.  No, I actually carried enough speed into this particular broad and gradual junction that I had to slow down, just as the message implied.  Getting faster after two months of reasonable mileage and training?  Feeling stronger as the weather improves?  Gradually losing my bicycle handling skills?  Small victory, I don't care the reason.   Ahead, six more SLOW reminders before I finish at Eden St.  

Trimming the Hedge

Sitting with my feet up, right heel slightly sore, after a good run today.  I estimate, without checking either of my two GPS exercise logs or my composite exercise spreadsheet, that I ran 35 km this week, 3 days in Washington DC plus today.  In some months I only run 35 km total so I can understand a little soreness.  

I trimmed the hedge at the front of 20 Eden this morning.  Voluntarily, albeit stimulated by Mary Lou's comment that I spend too much time at the computer.  The hedge had grown to a ragged and rambunctious state, infringing seriously on the pavement, so I cut it back severely.  Same strategy I apply to haircuts.  

I thought of my dad, who, around this same time of year (often on the US Memorial Day, last Monday in May) would trim, also by hand, the shrubs in front of our house in Illinois.  I would help by raking and picking up the cuttings - those bushes had thorns!  In my earliest memories the cuttings would go into a wood-slat basket with wire handles.

Strictly speaking, I did not volunteer my help.  I merely understood, without an explicit request (although perhaps with a nudge from my mother to put down my book, get out, and help Dad) that he expected my participation in the day's tasks.  Just as I understood the expectation that I would mow the lawns of our house and those of the elderly neighbors (the latter, at least, for compensation) each Saturday.  In spring, during the school term, I would often also have a track meet (athletics competition, in the UK) on Saturday, in the afternoon, or I would anticipate, even then, a long or hard run for training or pleasure.  I remember very clearly thinking that 3 hours in the warm sun pushing a mower through thick grass did not represent a very restful preparation for a running race.  True, no doubt, but in those days I also knew less about hydration and pre-race nutrition.  Today, working for a couple hours in the sun, I thought both about Dad and about the day's run.  After the trimming I had sports drink, an energy bar, and a nap.  

I did enjoy my run, again down the Cam on this side, back on the other.  I pushed for 3 km on this side, and again for 3 km on the return.  Not very fast, but faster than last week and better than just a passive old-guy run.  I feel that I gradually regain a natural stride; earlier in the year I felt that I corrected for pain or stiffness.  I try to remember, as I get tired and my stride shortens, to increase speed by relaxing rather than tightening.  I recall terms I hear most often: rounded, balanced, collected, supple, forward.  Applied to Tetley, not to me.  Perhaps I should consider half halts.  

Nice temperature for the run.  I don't look forward to a summer of 30C as predicted.  Now we plan to get on our bikes and pedal to a pub over in Coton, a nice ride to the other side (western edge) of Cambridge.  

Skeptical of the skeptic

IPY phone calls and emails, all with today's urgency, started from the (late) moment that I awoke.  I prepared breakfast but didn't get to enjoy it until after the third activity.  Many EOC activities; I gradually begin to understand the amount of time Rhian needed to devote to phone calls.  I wore my Skype earphones much of the day.  I did talk to Nicola; it took us only a moment to find a reason to share laughter.  

I spent the morning writing a rebuttal to a climate 'skeptic'.  I feel uncomfortable in that role.  I know a lot about climate, but I hold no detailed expertise (nor credentials) in any aspect.  Now, of course, I know a lot about polar issues, arguably more than anyone, but again without formal expertise.  On the other hand, I have willingness (such as by making time) and communication skills to relate climate information in accessible language, both of those perhaps rare attributes.  In this case, the radio station - our friends at CKLB in Yellowknife, Canada - asked me to prepare a rebuttal to an interview they had broadcast last week on their IPY show 'Ends of the Earth'.  We had the idea that I would submit my comments to their blog, so that they could ask me questions during an interview this afternoon.  

I didn't want to rebut point by point or error by error, matching one person's 'facts' with another set of 'facts'.  Instead, I wanted to provide a more general common sense view of how climate works, to help the listener understand why I (we, in this case, most of the scientific community) disagree with the skeptic.  I think I achieved my goal, although I know the few paragraphs I wrote could use a bit more 'aging'.  But the show must go on.  

(Later, I learned that CKLB wants to put my comments in their newsletter, online and print.  I re-read and then fixed a few typos in my little document.  Now they want a picture.  I thought we used the radio format to get away from pictures.) 

I enjoyed the interview.  I told Kirsten Murphy that she reminded me of my favorite radio personality, Susan Stamberg - funny, fresh, friendly.  We talked about the Senate hearing.  I allowed an impression to develop of a well-attended and active event.  Next we talked about climate skepticism in general terms, without specific reference to the interview from the previous week.  Kirsten surprised me (good!) with a question about political influence in climate science - how I would answer the frequent charge from skeptics that the climate 'enthusiasts' control the funding and publication processes, and exclude the skeptics, for their own political and financial benefit.  I rejected that viewpoint, without labeling it another lunatic conspiracy theory, but probably not very effectively.  Perhaps I should have voiced the conspiracy idea.

Then Kirsten offered some fun challenges.  Do I consider myself an important person?  Do I travel around the world (with the implication of a large carbon impact)?  Can I confirm what a little bird told her, that I often fall off of my bicycle?  (Now how would she know to ask me that?)  Did I come from the US or Canada - she thought I had a Canadian accent.  My answer: when people hear me speak, they often guess my identity as Canadian, but when they see me they group me with the Norwegians.  

Not all of this, in fact very little of the closing chatter, will go into the final interview.  But I look forward to hearing what she and William do with the material and the show.  Not in the live broadcast (0300 UK time) but in the audio library tapes.  

I have had positive feedback from people who attended the Senate hearing; several asked for the transcript.  I will prepare a summary of the hearing for the consideration of my fellow 'experts', as my second task of the weekend.  

Easy bike ride at the end of the day; hoping for a longer ride tomorrow (today, when I finally finished this entry).  

Old Runners Tales

I ran again in Rock Creek Park this morning.  I felt that an easy run would help shorten the duration of this cold.  I have read this idea in running literature and discussed it with other runners, that running, by raising the body temperature in imitation of a fever, assists in the body's defenses.  Just an easy run, to raise the temperature but not push one into exhaustion.  One of several old runners tales, I suppose. 

I think even a walk in the cool moist air helps clear and sooth the irritated sinus surfaces.  I hope I can avoid ear pressure problems on tonight's flight.

Most members of the USA Senate Foreign Relations Committee did not take a personal interest yesterday in The Global Implications of a Warming Arctic.  But the Chair, Sen. Kerry did, as did the two Senators from Alaska.  And so did many people, perhaps support staff for other committees or personal staff for Senators or Representatives, who filled the room.  I counted more than 60 and could not see those seated behind me.

Rather than having the Senators arrayed in their high formal seats surrounding and overlooking the 'witnesses', we utilized a central table, three or four seats on a side, everyone at the same level, for a discussion.  Senator Kerry used the format particularly well, to ask questions and stimulate discussion.

I thought we, the 'experts', made a weak and dissolute impression.  Two of us, Lawson (the Arctic Marine Shipping Assessment 2009 Report, just endorsed) and I (IPY), had fresh product.  We presented and distributed short written summaries of highlights and urgencies.  To my ear, our material sounded un-surprising, more of the same, although my points about sea level rise from the melting of the Greenland ice sheet and about methane release from permafrost provoked questions and discussion.  The other three experts worked from hasty notes, referring to previous reports or to documents they had already written.  They basically worked through a familiar (to them and the Senators, I suppose) list of requests - compliance with such and such treaty or previous Senate resolution, funding for this or that program, icebreakers - things they had suggested or advocated before.  

As a group, I thought we failed to bring forward a clear or cohesive message.  We raised a list of issues, some of them with fresh and troubling information, but failed to match those urgencies with a consensus on steps forward.  I think the Chair sensed the lack of direction.  He proposed to hold the 'record' of the meeting open for a week, to allow us to present some concise recommendations.  I will propose that we prepare one set, together.  I doubt that I will find much cooperation. 

Bright yellow fields

I enjoy looking at grass-covered landscapes.  Not manicured golf courses, but the wilder, rougher fields of the prairies and grasslands, expanses broad enough with plants tall enough to show the sweep and ripples of the wind.  In our travels across the US we often sought out relict or restored plots of tall-grass prairies or the wide-open windy spaces of the dry grasslands. I also like orderly fields of corn or soybeans in Illinois and I smile to remember the fields of many colors and textures in the seed-growing areas of the Willamette Valley.  

But for pure garish shock one has to see the bright yellow fields of rape in England and Europe.  From the air they look artificial, as if someone has imposed a yellow polygon layer on top of the green and brown background.  To my eye they seem to glow as the airplane descends into the English gloom.  From the ground on a bright day, as from the train from Cambridge to London on Saturday, they still look un-real - a uniform and spotless carpet of brightest yellow flowers.   A prime example, I suspect, of mechano-chemical-monocultural agriculture (and European farm policy?) at its worst, but a remarkable view.  Just now we also have bright bursts of buttercups in the pastures of the Cambridge common areas.  Imagine that bold yellow of buttercups, raised to prominence and dominance to the exclusion of all other color, even leaf green, over multi-hectare patches, and you get a sense of the rape fields in blossom.  

The train station in Cambridge seemed quite busy for a Saturday.  Some special event, I surmised, sport no doubt.  But not in London - the train in that direction ran only half full.  "Passengers for the races in Newmarket will please make their way quickly to platform 6."  Ah, the races.  That explains the fancy dresses, the fancier hats, the ties and coats.  And, perhaps, also, the abundant containers, in many shapes and form, subtle and otherwise, of alcohol.

I rested on the un-crowded train to London.  Mary Lou had tucked an apple and a chocolate bar into my bag - nice.  I felt the weary satisfaction of a hard bicycle ride, better than I had expected for a tired start, still on my relentless search for long (I would settle for 5 km!) challenging hills.  I tried a new route this morning, from Six Mile Bottom up to Carlton, not bad, small rough roads but not much traffic and a decent, by East Anglia standard, ascent.  

Mad in Kings X, people crowded everywhere, traveling to who-knows-what events on a holiday weekend.  Weekend closure of two Tube lines for 'planned engineering works' probably contributed to the crowds on the Picadilly Line.  Some danger, as the masses poured down the escalators to over-crowded platforms below, but TfL employees worked throughout the station to keep people safe and moving.  West toward the airport, where the Picadilly Line comes above ground, one could see high activity in the allotments (community gardens) - taking advantage of fair weather at the weekend.  I thought of the rainy forecast for the Oregon coast.  

In Terminal 5 I saw NHS medics on bicycles. Don't they have a smooth ride and clean bikes!

Fat Head

Started early, anxious to transfer my restless overnight thoughts to email before they dissolved in the day's affairs.  Checked the UK East Anglia weather forecast.  Then the swine flu forecast, to learn if travel restrictions might disrupt plans for an international meeting here tomorrow or my trip to the US at the weekend.  Not here, but in many other locations I would also check the air quality forecast, thinking about exercise plans for the day.

The image to the left shows a DEXA (dual energy X-ray absorptiometry) scan of me.  This scan occurred as part of a very complete physiological and biochemical analysis that I had a few weeks ago.  The tests, designed to look at diet, exercise, and metabolic influences on weight and diabetes, occurred as part of a large Fenlands (east England lowlands) study, but also at a perfect time for me as a check on my overall fitness and recovery from my bike injury last August.  I had a stress test, all kinds of blood tests, and all kinds of weight, body mass, and body fat tests - part of the study seeks to define the most reliable and least invasive indicators of obesity for most people.  I wore a combination accelerometer (to record my activity level) and heart rate monitor for several days.  Overall, and no surprise whatsoever, the data show me as extremely fit for my age but also overweight.  

Of course I started fiddling with the data.  Since they had to estimate my fitness from my VO2 max, and had to estimate that from my max heart rate, what if they had my max heart rate, calculated from my age, too low compared to my real max heart rate which I reach during intense exercise once or twice in some months?  What if they had my height too low, how would that affect my body mass index?  I did not do any long or intense exercise during the time I wore their activity sensor - how did that affect my ratio of activity metabolic rate to resting metabolic rate?  Just like a scientist, I want to fuss with the data rather than confronting the main problem, too much weight.  The DEXA scan shows my fat head.

I did get my Arctic text done for the Senate hearing, in about 6 hours on Sunday.  I had a brief message from the Committee staff on Friday, but nothing since on time, length, other invitations.  Travel restrictions due to swine flu now seem unlikely, at least to the US.  Unless things change substantially, I plan to fly on Saturday.

Today a long run east on this side of the Cam, back on the other side, almost 12 km.  Very pretty and fragrant run this time of year, down river to Baits Bite Lock, about 80% on grass or soil.  But I agree with Mary Lou - the ground has dried out and we need some rain.  As they often, for mysterious reasons, do, the two most recent rain systems crossing England avoided East Anglia.    

All in a day

We heard that the daughter of local friends, along with classmates, went to Paris for the day.  By train and ferry, apparently.  That sounded fun to me.  I have occasionally invited my sister Barbara to come to Cambridge for a visit, primarily so that we could do what the students did - go to Paris for lunch.  I went from Cambridge to Vienna for the day, albeit a quite long day 4a to 11p.  I travelled by airplane, not my preferred form of travel in Europe but necessary in this case.  

I attended the final day of the annual meeting of the European Geophysical Union, to deliver an invited talk to open a session entitled 'The Cryosphere - How Much Longer'.  Evidently that title caught people's attention.  We had 150 people or more in the room, remarkable for the afternoon of the final day of a week-long conference.  After me, international experts spoke on glaciers, permafrost, and Arctic ice shelves; I had used Arctic sea ice as one of my examples of prediction challenges.  All of us made an identical point - that components of the cryosphere have changed (disappeared) beyond historical precedent.  I gave a new talk on my current most-used theme - the need to quickly convert our IPY discoveries into predictive skill.  I used Arctic sea ice, an Arctic marine ecosystem, and Arctic vegetation as examples, showing innovative (in my view) modeling efforts in each case, drawing the conclusion that we have many components of an integrated prediction skill if we can only put them together.  Given that I composed the talk the day before, finished it in the airport before the flight, and polished and practiced it on the flight, I thought it went rather well.  As conveners and speakers gathered for a post-session coffee (or beer, Vienna after all), prediction and predictability dominated our discussion.

Mary Lou doubted that I would get up this morning for an early bike ride.  She didn't know that I had planned my workouts over the past week toward this ride or that I anticipated it during last night's travel back to England and Cambridge, particularly as the limo used the same route into Cambridge that I would take.  I did start early, 6:15, and had a great ride, one of my best (fastest).  Perhaps not as fast for a similar distance (30 kilometers here, 20 miles there) as I used to do in Boulder.  But that route had straight roads with wide bicycle lanes, four corners (two of which favored full-speed turns), and only one stop sign.  This route has narrow rough roads with no shoulders, 6 villages with speed-calming (reducing) impediments at entry and exit, 9 round-about intersections, and 3 km on Cambridge streets at start and finish.  Today's route also has ten stoplights.  I had green lights for most of them and went cautiously through the others; I never clicked out of my pedals.   

Tired now, writing this blog when I should work on my text for the Senate hearings, probably due Monday.  If weather allows I hope to do a long ride, at a relaxed pace, tomorrow morning.  

Rolling Recovery

I still have not quite 'returned' to this time zone; I gain about an hour each day.  Supposedly, exercise, especially late afternoon, helps one reset one's biological clock due to exposure to a setting sun.   Having cycled at a very high (for me) level of effort on Sunday, and having taken a long albeit easy run yesterday along the Cam, and hoping for the end-of-the-day time zone re-calibration effect, I made a very easy ride home from work late this afternoon.  Why does an easy ride get mentioned in my blog?  Because I never ride easy!  I always chase or push or climb - anything to feel the effort and sense the speed.  So I had to 'work' at keeping today's ride easy - 22 km, 55 minutes, only 2 minutes in my lowest heart rate target zone - perfect.  What the professional bicyclists call a 'rolling recovery'.  

I have a GP (General Practitioner) appointment tomorrow, to review the array of fitness tests I had a couple weeks ago.  I had complete blood analyses, of sugars, enzymes and lipids.  I had three or four different kinds of body fat / body mass measurements, an electrocardiogram, and a treadmill stress test.   Also a glucose response test.  And several others, I don't remember - a full morning's worth.  I already know the blood pressure numbers looked very good, that the electrocardiogram had the usual occasional arrhythmia, and that I passed the stress test with flying colours.  I suspect the GP will talk about weight and cholesterol tomorrow, familiar topics.  

I work on a presentation for the European Geophysical Union meeting, for a time slot on Friday.  Before I get too far into the graphics, I should remind myself what I wrote in the abstract.  I also work on text for a US Senate hearing scheduled for the first week of May.  I anticipate that they will want written text of the testimony beforehand, as soon as next week.   Written testimony without graphics! - a first for me, at least during my time with IPY.  Just to keep my graphic skills sharp, I did a nice little video for ICSU for their Executive Board meeting next week - edited down from a longer version I produced a few months ago.  Fun.

Back to Cambridge

I arrived early yesterday at Heathrow to a very gray damp morning - even British travelers remarked at the dismal weather.  I used the coach (bus) service to Cambridge because I had a normal suitcase plus my bike case - too hard to handle two cases on the Tube and train.  The coach had too much heat, which the driver could not reduce, and didn't work properly in reverse. In our experience British coaches often have transmission or heater problems.  My luck to get one with both problems simultaneously.  Mary Lou met me at the coach stop and we dragged the cases home (two blocks).  

After a nap, and as the weather improved, I unpacked, cleaned and re-assembled my bike.  I made a short test ride, then parked the bike and went for a short run.  By 8 pm I had fallen asleep - I had not slept during the overnight flight and for only a few minutes on the coach.  Mary Lou, out and about on Saturday errands, left me a note and a periwinkle flower this morning.  The 'Good Morning' greeting of the note almost expired, and the flower had wilted, by the time I woke - I slept most of 14 hours.

I attended to various computer update and backup tasks and finished work on my bike, then headed out for a moderate (length and speed) ride.  First the dilemma of how to get out of Cambridge - which route will involve the fewest pedestrians, dogs, prams, cows (summer on the Cambridge commons), construction, traffic?  In any direction it takes about 20 minutes to escape.  Once out, though, one has green hedges, many trees and shrubs in blossom, bright tulips and bedraggled daffodils along the roadside, and green (or bright yellow - rapeseed) fields.  Despite vehicle traffic and very rough pavement in many places, I enjoyed this English countryside ride after never really getting out of the city during two weeks of riding in Washington DC.  Of course, with rarely more than 3 or 4 km between villages in this part of England, and various constrictions, impediments, and barriers in the villages, I maintain a continual search for undeveloped stretches suited to longer and harder efforts.  And hills?  Forget it in East Anglia.  

But now, with sounds and smell of dinner (including fresh local asparagus) in preparation, and unlimited daily first-hand reportage on horse health and performance, I feel very glad to have returned home.  I noticed that Mary Lou had one of the DVD cases from the 'Lord of the Rings' out.  I knew she viewed DVDs during her break, but I thought she must have felt pretty bored to have watched 'Lord of the Rings'.  In fact, one of her equestrian friends knows a person who owned one of the horses used in the movie - we will have to view it again but with an equine focus.