BERTHA’S FAVORITE RECIPES FOR CYCLISTS ON THE GO

Some people that know me fairly well also know me as one who does not often like to cook. It has even been rumored that I don’t even know how to cook. Well, to those folks I say “Phooey!” (I think that is a French word but I’m not sure of the spelling.)

I will now share a couple of my nutritious, quick and easy recipes for the cyclist on the go:

Recipe Number One – Spaghetti-O’s. First, you take a pan (I don’t know quarts from teaspoons – it’s about six inches in diameter and will hold about three or four inches of water) and you fill it with about two inches of water. Put this on the stove – on one of the burners. Now, take a can of Spaghetti-O’s and open it. Throw the top in the trash can and place the can into the pan of water. Turn on the burner. While this begins to heat, fix a glass of tea. Pretty soon the water and the Spaghetti-O’s inside the can will start to boil. Maybe stir it a little when this happens. After a bit, turn off the stove and get your pot holder (or some pliers) and lift the can out of the pan of water. Get a spoon and eat the Spaghetti-O’s right out of the can. Drink some tea. Mmmm-mmmm good!

Recipe Number Two – Chef Boyardee Ravioli. This works pretty much the same as recipe number one.

As you gain experience in the kitchen, you will learn to just leave the pan of water on the stove – no need to dump it out each night simply to refill it again the next day. Another handy thing about these recipes is that you only dirty up one spoon and one glass each meal. This makes clean up a virtual snap - which leaves you with plenty of time to…

Enjoy the ride!

A SUNDAY MORNING

I jumped in my van last Sunday morning and headed up to the corner convenience store for a newspaper and to fill up the gas tank. I rounded the corner, pulled into the drive and immediately noticed that the gas pumps under the canopy were gone. “How odd,” I thought, “when did they take those out?”

Oh well – no big deal. There was a Chevron gas station only half a mile up the road. Upon arriving I was greeted by another pumpless gas station canopy. I looked across the street – another convenience store – completely void of gas pumps. I thought to myself, “Seems that something like this should have been reported in the TV news or in the newspaper.” I headed on down the road.

A mile away, as I approach the Exxon station, I could see the closed sign in the window. A block away from that – Texaco – closed. On down the street – Shell – a graffiti-covered building obviously out of business. What the heck is going on here?

I glanced down at my gas gauge. It was on empty. I had driven at least ten miles from the house. Did I have enough gas to get back? I glanced up the highway and it was at that precise moment that I realized I was the only vehicle on the road. I hadn’t seen anyone else driving a car since I’d left home. I was beginning to panic. This was turning into something like an old Twilight Zone episode. I was frantically driving toward my house. I seemed to be getting further and further away from home – no matter how fast I drove. Then the van started sputtering. It died. Oh no! This can’t be! I cranked the key – pumped the pedal. Nothing. The van coasted to a stop. Alone – in the middle of the desert – thousands of miles from my home.

With a terrible jolt, my eyes burst open. My heart was racing – my body wet with sweat. I was lying in my bed – safe in my own house. It was all just a silly dream.

I got up, took a quick shower and dressed. I jumped on my bicycle and headed to the corner store for a newspaper and a gallon of milk. The morning was peaceful and all was pleasant.

I was still thinking about my dream – how foolish it was. Why, there hadn’t been any gasoline anywhere on earth for over twenty years now.

Enjoy the ride!

INTERVIEW WITH CYCLING-GREAT, STERM ARCHER

A few years ago, while on vacation in Cawker City, Kansas (home to the world’s largest ball of twine), I was eating lunch at a quaint café on main street when who do you think I spotted sitting at a table across the room? If you guessed cycling-great, Sterm E. Archer, you are correct – and congratulations for remembering the title of this article which you may have read just a few seconds ago! At this point in the story, I could take up time and space by telling you all about the waitress who took my order, how she looked and what she was wearing and what I had ordered to eat and even what Sterm was eating; or I could mention how casual Sterm looked in his frayed and faded blue jeans topped with a tattered Grateful Dead t-shirt two sizes too big – but these trivial facts have absolutely nothing important to add to our story at all – so let’s just jump right into the interview:

Bertha – Sterm, I can’t tell you how excited I am to see you and to get this chance to talk with you. What do you think of the roast beef and mashed potatoes here at this quaint café in downtown Cawker City, Kansas?

Sterm – You know Bertha, there isn’t too much here in this café that doesn’t taste delicious. I probably have the roast beef at least twice a week. I noticed that you had their famous Twine Ball Platter. That’s one of their more popular dishes – even if it is just spaghetti wrapped around a giant meat ball. Busloads of people come here to order that one.

Bertha – Yes, but enough trivial talk that has absolutely nothing to do with our interview. You’ve been retired from the cycling scene for several years now. What do you do here to pass the time?

Sterm – My wife, Agnes, and I teach calf roping – and macramé. Anything to do with rope is pretty popular in this town. I also collect rope and string, like many others around here – it’s everywhere. I’ve got quite a collection. I find it on newspaper bundles, on tents at campsites, on boats tied to the dock out at the lake. I’ve even got the rope that they used to hang the Australian outlaw, Ned Kelly. Of course Agnes has macraméd that into a hanging end table.

Bertha – I’m sure a lot of our readers remember you from when you were famous but, to those new to the sport of cycling, why don’t you take a moment or two now to remind us how Sterm Archer made a name for himself, thus etching his name in the cycling history books for all time.

Sterm – Naturally I raced all of the major races in the 60’s and into the early 70’s. It was in late 60’s though when a new cycling sport burst upon the scene – underwater racing. It was started over in England. I was actually living there at the time and it rained all but about seventeen days during the two years that I lived there. I had joined the local cycling club not long after moving over there and, due to the horrid weather, our activities mostly consisted of eating and drinking at the local pub and waiting for the rain to stop. One day when we were sitting around our favorite (or favourite as they would type) local pub, the barkeep announced that they were out of everything except water – and of course, tea. So anyway, not wanting to pay for water when we could get all of it we wanted for free outside, we decided to just go for it – after all, we were a cycling club – and it was just a little rain. Once we got used to that, there was no amount of water that would stop us from riding. It became addictive. We looked for more challenging places to ride and race. We drew quite a large crowd for our race of the Thames and the English Channel. Stateside you probably remember the Great Mississippi River Race and the two month-long Tour de Great Lakes. Needless to say, you have to possess some pretty good lung capacity to participate in underwater racing.

Bertha – What kind of bicycles did you ride while racing underwater?

Sterm – Mostly they were rusty ones.

Bertha – What are some of your more memorable cycling experiences?

Sterm – There was this one time, I was cycling about a mile or two off shore in the Atlantic and came to an abrupt drop off on the ocean floor. I slammed on my brakes and spun around just in time to keep from plunging into total darkness. At that precise moment, a form came plummeting toward me from above. The form turned out to be another man. He grabbed my shoulders and came to a stop on the very edge of the ocean cliff. At first I thought it might be someone else enjoying the sport of underwater cycling but he didn’t have a bicycle – plus, he was wearing a suit and tie – and a bucket of cement around his ankles. He had some rope tied around his wrists which had also gotten caught in the spokes of my front wheel. I quickly untied it (figuring it would be a nice addition to my collection) and then the ocean floor gave way and he abruptly sped on down the cliff and out of sight. I cycled on back to the shore.

Bertha – Any idea who that guy was?

Sterm – I was never really sure. But a few days later I read in the newspaper that a certain local union leader had disappeared off the face of the earth.

Bertha – That sounds like it truly was a memorable cycling experience. Now, I’m sure that this must be as much of an honor for you to meet me as it is for me to meet you. Do you have any questions that you would like to ask me?

Sterm – Funny you should mention that, Bertha – yes, there is something that I’ve wanted to ask you for quite a while. I am an avid fan of yours and always enjoy your informative and factual articles. A while back I was reading my favorite (favourite) cycling publication and was grossly interested in your Bluebonnet Express Ride Report. However, what happened to installments two through five as well as seven? All I ever saw was Part One and Part Six.

Bertha – Well, Sterm, funny you should mention that. I wrote those segments of my story while I was cycling across northern Kansas. I didn’t have any paper with me at the time so I wrote them all out on a piece of rope I had with me…

Sterm –That makes absolutely no sense at all.

Bertha – How about: Well, Sterm, funny you should mention that. I wrote those segments of my story while I was cycling in the Tour de Great Lakes. Since I didn’t have any waterproof paper…

Enjoy the ride!



FROM HAIRNETS TO HELMETS

Way back when I first started racing bicycles, we were advised to wear helmets. Most all of the races that I attended required that we wear a helmet if we were going to compete. This was back in the early 70’s – and some of you may remember what bicycle helmets looked like back then. They were leather or vinyl-covered material that we fondly nicknamed: hairnets. We would always joke about them really not doing the cyclist much good – they were primarily intended to save the ambulance drivers from the hassle of having to search for the pieces of our brain in case we were to have a bad wreck.

But the concept was a good one and, like most everything else in our lives, progress and technology have delivered us from the days of the near-useless hairnet helmets to a time when helmets are lightweight, functional, aerodynamic, and a fashionable as well as proven safety feature for today’s bicycle rider.

Participate in almost any cycling tour, race or event and you’ll almost assuredly be confronted with the instructions that helmets are not only recommended but are mandatory. Try getting on any of the off-road riding establishments without wearing a helmet – as soon as the folks in charge spot you, your day of riding on their property will come to an abrupt end. More and more cities are adopting regulations requiring that children wear helmets while on bicycles. Ride with any organized bicycle club and, if you don’t show up with a helmet, more than likely you find someone eager to let you borrow one of their spares for the ride.

There are good reasons for this. Accidents happen. And, a lot of the time the person who gets hurt the worst isn’t always the one who caused the accident. Wearing a helmet is just good insurance that less damage will be inflicted upon your head if and when an accident finds you. On that related note, you’ll notice that there are some clip art images of cyclists accompanying this article. A lot of them are riding old fashioned bikes and they are all sort of smiling and looking like they are have a wonderfully good ol’ time – and they are not wearing helmets. “What’s this?” you say. Well, for your information, all of those people in those clip art images are dead! Probably because they weren’t wearing a helmet and crashed sometime after they posed for their clip art image. Somewhere in my clip art file, I have an image of an old-timey ambulance driver at the scene of an old-fashioned bicycle wreck, looking in vain around the side of the road for pieces of the cyclist’s brain. Thank goodness this clip art is in black and white – it’s not a pretty sight.

Please, don’t run the risk of becoming a piece of clip art – wear a helmet when you…

Enjoy the ride!

Click here for a little more in-depth history of the bicycle helmet.

BLUEBONNET EXPRESS RIDE REPORT – PART SIX

As we continue with our story… I could really feel the asphalt taking its toll as I turned right off of Highway 6 onto FM 2988. (Not to mention the need for an even more padded saddle!) Thanks to some guy named Jacques or Ian or Eddy or something like that, I was talked into going for the full 100K instead of just my planned 25-mile course. Now, there I was, just a couple of miles from rest stop number three and it was nearly 10:30 in the evening…

Nah – I’m just kidding – don’t take me seriously. Although I know I do have a tendency to come across as a pretty serious individual! But, as you remember from our last installment, I had just thwarted that attempted burglary on Tompkins Road after losing control of my bicycle on that downhill, crashing through a chain link fence and leaving balloon-tire-sized tread marks up the back of the burglar as he was carting the television set toward the trunk of his car. I’m sure the sponsors of the ride will receive a letter from those folks thanking them for the heroism of one of their ride participants – and possibly enclose a bill for some chain link fence, approximately 35 feet of flower beds, seven ornamental yard flamingos, a storm door, and for some carpet cleaning due to some more of those balloon-tire-sized tread marks.

But, what the heck! – back to the ride…                                                 

I had managed to gather quite a following once other riders found out that I had been riding bikes since I was about five years old. In fact, I was leading a pack of roughly 750 riders south along Mitchell Road. Now, I know that 750 is kind of big for one pack and more than a couple of times I sprinted upwards of eight or nine miles per hour thinking maybe only about 300-or-so would make the break with me – but nooo! – the whole stinking group of 750 were right there with me – right on my tail. What else could I do but to lead them on to the finish line?

As I made the turn onto FM 1488, I could see the lead pack of the 62-mile route riders coming in on the road off to the left. Had I been riding alone, I would have stopped for a while and let them pass. But, with the gigantic mass of riders behind me, the force was too strong to stop. Fearing for my life, I continued on down FM 1488 knowing that the multitudes of riders swarming onto the road at six mph had forced most of those 62-mile riders into the ditch – more than likely resulting in a mangled pile of wheels and spokes and chains and twisted flesh. Fortunately that’s why the ride organizers made sure to have plenty of SAG wagons along the course.

Meanwhile, the pack behind me had grown to over a thousand – and I think that number was including a few dogs, armadillos and a varied assortment of farm animals. As we headed toward the last rest stop, we were pushing an average speed of around five miles per hour. The pack was devouring everything in sight. (After all – remember? – we are on the 25-mile route – we’re gonna get hungry!) We had become a black hole – nothing could escape our ever-growing force. Rest Stop Six stood tough for a while (gotta hand it to those Boy Scouts!) but soon even they gave in and ran for cover. The rest stop was history in a matter of moments. The U-Haul with fresh supplies previously en-route to the rest stop was overtaken by renegade 25-milers near the end of the pack – picked clean in a matter of seconds. We rolled on.

Just a mere four miles from the finish line, the pack had grown to nearly two thousand. I was in the lead simply because I knew I would be run over – I and my bike ground into asphalt much like the cyclists of the late 19^th Century were – but that’s a different story. I had never ridden this fast for so long. I feared for the devastation that would surely befall the finish line if this pack kept growing like this. Could nothing stop us?

Stay tuned for…

BLUEBONNET EXPRESS RIDE REPORT – PART SEVEN

(And pray that they haven’t run out of hot link wrap arounds at the finish line!)

Enjoy the ride!

BLUEBONNET EXPRESS RIDE REPORT – PART ONE

Let me take a few minutes of your time to tell you about my first organized bike ride several years ago – the “Bluebonnet Express” out around Hempstead, Texas. I’ve got to admit that it was a gorgeous ride – only slightly hilly – not near what I was used to back near Bodega Bay, California. You want hills? Go ride with the Bay City Cycling Babes in the San Francisco area. Now there are some hills!

But back to the Bluebonnet Express. The ride started off great but I really hated it when we got out of range of that deejay. He was really playing some great music. They need to figure out how they can get him a more powerful amp so the riders can hear him on the entire course. And how about that guy driving the U-Haul truck? What’s the deal with him? I was riding along on my J.C. Higgins cruiser and had both of the side baskets full of those free hot link wrap-arounds that they were passing out before the ride.  I even grabbed a couple of containers of the pickles and onions – because I’m on the 25-mile course, right? I know I’m gonna get hungry. Well this guy keeps waiving me over wanting to know if I’ll give him one of my hot link wrap-arounds. I didn’t mind giving him some of my food but it was going to seriously cut into my cycling time if I stopped. After all, this was my first attempt at riding a 25-mile ride all in one day. But anyway, the ride organizers need to think about stocking this guy up with his own free food so he doesn’t bother the cyclists. Or maybe he didn’t have anything to do with the ride – I don’t know. I suppose there is more than one U-Haul truck driving around near the bike ride.

But back to my ride…  Now, I’m not a real fast rider and a lot of people tell me that I should upgrade my bike to something with gears – (By the way – I do have a new bike on layaway back at the bike shop. It’s a Schwinn Cruiser Six with, get this, six speeds! – and brakes on the handlebars. How cool is that! I’m going to be able to go much, much faster on my next big ride.) Oh yeah – as I was saying – Anyway, I’m not a real fast rider but at this one point in the ride, a pack of riders were coming up behind me – I think we were somewhere in downtown Hempstead. I’m already pretty pooped and one of the fast riders slowed down to chat with me. I think his name was Chet or Bret or Wilroy or Alex or something similar to that and I told him my name and he said, “Hey! I made some of those bike part wind chime thingies that you had put in the cycling newsletter a few months ago.” I replied, “Oh really? How do you like them?” and he said, “Well, they’re only a couple of months old and already they are rusted looking.” – then he sped off to catch up with his friends before I had a chance to tell him that I’m starting up this special service where I go to people’s houses and clean those wind chimes for only $25.00 a month. His loss, I suppose.

Sorry, I got off on a tangent again – back to the ride. I was almost to the first rest stop – and boy, was I needing it – not to mention it was about time to change the tape in my portable VCR (I had packed several movies to help pass the time during the ride). So anyway, there I was, nearly at the first rest stop when I had a blowout on the back tire. I pulled over to the side of the road and almost immediately this guy stopped to help me. I think his name was Bob or Rob or Mack or maybe Alex or something like that. I told him my name was Ashtabula – Bertha Ashtabula (you know, kinda like Bond, James Bond does in the movies?). Then he said, “Hmm. Ashtabula. Now that’s an interesting family name. Where does that come from?” And I replied, “Well, we’re sort of out of room in this article so I guess you’ll have to wait for the…

BLUEBONNET RIDE REPORT – PART TWO

Enjoy the Ride!

THE HISTORY OF NIGHT RIDING

As we once again near the time of year when we move our clocks back one hour (Daylight UNsavings Time), most of us bike riders will discover that if we’re not at work or school – IT’S DARK!

Yes, this is true. Because of this fact, it’s time to consider rigging the old bicycle up with some sort of lighting apparatus. Sure, you can go into your favorite local bike shop and purchase the latest, greatest, mega-halogen, mama-there’s-a-train-coming-straight-at-us lamp system for your bike – and this is fine. But, before you go out and enjoy you new system, take a moment to realize how good you’ve got it now-a-days.

Back in the old days – before electricity – no one gave much concern about bike riding after dark. The roads weren’t even paved and it was bad enough trying to miss all of the holes and ruts in the road during the daylight hours when you could see. Besides, there wasn’t anything moving faster than you on the roads anyway, so who really cared?

After the invention of the horseless carriage, it became more common to start seeing paved roads. The first paved roads were simply run over bicycles and cyclists which eventually smoothed out over time. As the number of cyclists dwindled (down to about a dozen nationwide – if I remember correctly), they realized that something needed to be done to bring a halt to the senseless slaughter of bikes and cyclists by the petrol and steam driven contraptions that were grinding them into 19^th Century pavement. Thus was born the League of American Wheelmen – an organization paying tribute to fellow cyclists who had been wheeled into the ground by bigger, more powerful wheels. The L.A.W.’s main focus of the time was to fight for roads to be paved with material like stones or pavers or some sort of petroleum based substance – and to hopefully protect the endangered few remaining cyclists that were left.

One of the first things that the new group did was to hit on the fact that most of the fatal “paving” of bikes and cyclists occurred during the dark, and maybe, just maybe, if the bicycles could be seen at night, then the “paving” wouldn’t be happening. (Editor’s note – “Paving” is just Bertha’s nice way of saying, “Ran down like a dog and ground into asphalt.”) Herbert Ulysses Bendix, or “Hub” as he was commonly referred to, was the first cyclist to attempt lighted night riding. Hub devised a plan to put a thin coat of kerosene on his bicycle rims and then set them on fire as he rode at night. His plan definitely made him quite visible to other vehicles and at first seemed like it might be a success. Unfortunately, the wheels on his bicycle were made of wood. Hub didn’t take too many long trips while riding at night.

A few years later my great-grandfather, Huey Ashtabula, invented the candelabrum handlebar. The handlebar had twenty ornamental candle holders welded across the top. He then inserted twenty candles and, after they were lit, the resulting light could be seen for several hundred feet. Great-Grandpa Huey only made one trip with his candle-handlebar bicycle. Ever since then he has been on display at the Wax Museum of American in Dodge City, Kansas.

Later, electricity was discovered and the possibilities seemed endless. As more and more bicycles were fitted with electric lights on their handlebars and front fenders, less and less met with an untimely “paving” incident. Of course, the number of cyclists strangled by the extension cords rose drastically. This prompted the League of American Wheelmen to lobby for someone to invent the battery.

Sometime during the 1940’s or 50’s, someone invented the bicycle generator. This was a little gizmo that you could mount on your fork or seat stay which would grind against your tire and, as long as you were pedaling, you’d get a little faint light shining out a couple of feet in front of you. I’m not sure, but I think this was invented by one of the major tire manufacturers so that your tires would wear out faster.

Well, here we are now in the age of computers and LEDs and more technology than we know what to do with. Now, for a mere four or five hundred dollars you can get a few thousand watts of stadium power lighting mounted right to your front fender. Gosh, wouldn’t Hub and Grandpa Huey be proud of what they started!

(What? You don’t have a front fender?)

Enjoy the ride!