Big Dairies & King Ferry

As the king of hyperbole, I won't shy away from describing this ride as absolutely euphoric. It's November 15th here in Ithaca, and the high temperature on my ride was 67 degrees! Riding without a jacket in mid-November is most bizarre, but I'm most grateful to the cycling goddess for arranging such ideal conditions and facilitating the further extension of an already long season.

Today I passed the 2800 mile mark for the season—I carefully chose a route that would get me there, and since I haven't been up along the lake to the King Ferry area in a while, I chose that route. This was my first time on Ledyard Rd., and it is the perfect choice for heading east and turning back to Ithaca.

I'm so glad that I decided to bring the camera today. Usually I am reluctant to bring the camera along, since I am trying to get maximum miles in during my allotted cycling time, but today I had the luxury of some extra time.

As you can see, I saw some very noisy wild turkeys on Remington Rd., just a couple hundred feet from Boynton Middle School. The sun was only with me for the first half hour, then the skies darkened and I thought perhaps I'd encounter rain, but it just stayed overcast for the rest of the trip. With all of the trees bare, it was a great day to get shots of the lake in the distance, as well as old barns and some beautiful homes.

This route takes you through some very big dairy operations around King Ferry, Genoa, Venice and East Lansing, and I tried to imagine what the old farming days were like in this area. There are a few remnants from those days, but now, the only shiny and new-looking farms are huge, sprawling dairies. It's so sad that family farming is the exception, not the rule.

Drivers seemed to be less attentive toward cyclists now that it's mid-November, and on a couple of occasions, drivers almost turned into me while I was in an intersection. Good practice for the lungs (I don't shy away from shouting at drivers) and for the evil-eye-darting-glance, but moments like those are most unwelcome. Us cyclists aren't asking for much, just a little attention. Put those damn cell phones away, people, and watch the road!

You can also see that I was all about the data today. Regular odometer, heartrate cyclocomputer and GPS, not to mention the camera. I know that it seems like overkill, but I won't be using the heartrate unit as an odometer. I've read that it can easily get reset by accident, and I want a reliable odometer to keep track of my road miles. Furthermore, my basic meter has a thermometer, which is pretty handy. Still, I can't wait to get a new Garmin Edge with cadence, like a Garmin Edge 405 or 605. That way I can ditch the Polar unit and have my heartrate data integrated into my speed and elevation data. This will allow me to see how my heartrate changes during specific climbs. This would be very valuable information for training purposes. Too bad I'd have to shell out around $400...I'd much rather spend it on a new wheelset or something.

Speaking of heartrate information, I hit a max of 170 at the top of Ridge Rd. in Lansing. That was pretty cool. I averaged 144 BPM for 2 1/2 hours, which feels pretty damn good. I don't think that downhill skiing will come anywhere close. Sure, cross-country skiing would be similar, but I probably won't have many opportunities this winter. Who knows...snowshoeing might be a good middle ground.

My favorite part of today's ride was Gulf Rd. in Lansing. There's a short, steep climb where Gulf meets Conlon Rd., and it's a real pedal stomping heart pounding affair. That turn onto Conlon Rd. is so gratifying.

See the ride on Everytrail

Here's the data:

Distance: 46.13 miles

Elapsed time: 2 hours, 30 min.

Avg. speed: 18.5 mph

Max. speed: 46 mph (heading east on Ledyard toward 34)

Vertical ascent: 2566 ft.

Calories burned: 2431

Avg. BPM: 144

Forever Young

As an adult cyclist, every now and then I feel a bit self-conscious, riding with my tight-fitting fancypants gear on roads with drivers tucked in nicely in their cars. What are they thinking about these encounters? Are they mildly annoyed that they have to slow down for a little while and cautiously pass at the first opportunity, or are they simply amused at our peculiar costumes and mucus clearing methodology (don't ask)? I wonder, if they aren't adult cyclists, do these encounters stir some deep-rooted childhood memories of terrorizing the neighborhood on their chopper and performing dangerous stunts like standing on the banana seat as if it were a skateboard?

I can usually tell who's a cyclist (or cyclist sympathizer) and who isn't by how they pass me. Sympathizers usually go the extreme giving lots of room while passing, often crossing the meridian, and waiting very patiently. The alternative can be pretty damn scary. I've had too many close calls over the years with the oblivious, the angry, the distracted, and the purposefully indifferent, those who don't want to give more leeway than the law allows as a matter of principal.

As a young cyclist, I was pretty oblivious to my surroundings, but now I ride with a finely tuned sense of all potential hazards, including deer. (I've had an increasing number of encounters with deer of late, particularly on one section of Oakcrest and on Remington and Sunset.) As a child, I felt impervious to danger; as an adult, I feel on guard at all times, which is why I really like my Remington escape route [Remington must be the subject of a future entry].

Today I've been musing about why cycling is so appealing to me, and I think it's all about savoring and holding on to my childhood. So much of life gets complicated and conflicted, as we start swimming upstream, having kids, see our parents turn elderly, and started contemplating our own mortality. Maybe I'm just in denial, looking for ways to keep my young in body and in spirit, but I really don't think it's that self-conscious a decision. I just bike because it's more fun than just about anything. But maybe what makes cycling that much more joyful is the flood of positive childhood memories that it prompts. With all of the endorphins flowing, I tend to concentrate on the happier memories, and I often puzzle through what I did wrong in past encounters and life situations. I wonder if it's a coincidence that my best bicycle year in the late '80s is also the year that I've reconnected with so many childhood (and young adult) friends and acquaintances?