Slow Walk Up My Fastest Descent

S-Curve at the top of Prospect Hill

This afternoon I walked up and down the hill on Prospect Road between Columbia Pike to Marietta Pike in western Lancaster County.  After riding thirty years in 37 countries and descending miles-long hills all over the world, it was on this short, steep descent south toward Columbia Pike that I went the fastest I have ever ridden: 59.5 mph.  

It is the right kind of hill to go fast. Although the hill is short, it is steepest and straight at the bottom.  Other times I have been over 55mph it is always on hills that have a 15% or more grade near the bottom of the hill. Prospect Road is 16% at the steepest point. But the other factor in going 59mph was the S-Curve at the top and the 1980s Bronco that passed me on the way into the turn. 

The big, old Ford SUV has the aerodynamic profile of a brick so when he went past, I pedaled like crazy to stay near him. He had to slow in the second turn so I could stay with him. As we exited the turn, he stomped the gas and pulled away. If he stayed anywhere near the legal speed, I would have to be on the brakes. But he went way over the 35mph speed limit so could get sucked along in his draft. I could hear the spokes sing, so I knew I was flying.

When I stopped, the max speed indicator in my computer said 59.5 mph.  At this point, it looks like a lifetime record.  I have descended miles-long hills in the Alps, the Pyrenees, the Rockies, the Berkshires, Israel, the Republic of Georgia, and in Macedonia. But length does not matter for max speed, only grade percentage and wind direction--and a good draft. 

Lancaster County, Corn, Corn, Corn

Looking up Prospect Hill

Looking up at the steepest section of the hill, near the bottom

Genocide and Torture: Two Sides of Silence

I am reading a book titled "Silence" by John Biguenet.  The book leads me through the pop culture, history and meaning of silence.  Until March of this year, many of us spent hours in the uninterrupted noise of airports. The only relief from the announcements and crowds is in the airport lounges for business class passengers.  They have silence at a considerable cost.

Some of us seek silence through meditation practice and by inhabiting quiet spaces.  Biguenet tells us the history of silent reading. Then he introduces us to the Unspeakable. 

The Holocaust survivor Theodor Adorno said in 1949 that after the Holocaust no one should write poetry. The Holocaust and other genocides silence millions.  The Armenian Genocide silenced more than million voice. The Holocaust silenced six million. The starvation of millions in Ukraine by Stalin, the Stalinist purges, and millions killed by Mao and Pol Pot followed by slaughter in Rwanda and Yugoslavia forced silence by death.

Biguenet then says torture is the opposite of genocide. A person tortured chooses to be silent. The torture is supposed to break that silence through agony.

Genocide survivors write and speak to give voice to the millions who were silenced. Those who are tortured choose silence at a great cost, possibly at the cost of their lives. 

Both genocide and torture are horrible, but for opposite reasons from the perspective of silence. 

Silence is part of a series of books called Object Lessons. Short books about specific things like Phone Booths, Drones, Silence, The Wheelchair, The High Heel, Traffic and fifty other titles.  My next book is about The Bookshelf.

"If It Ain't Rainin' We Ain't Trainin'" NYC Version

On the Queensborough Bridge Today, Yesterday was a Tropical Storm

Yesterday and today I walked from Manhattan to Queens and back on the Queensborough bridge. Today was beautiful weather. Yesterday was a tropical storm with sheets of rain blowing across the walkway from the north. 

As I walked through the rain wearing shorts and a t-shirt, I thought about First Sergeant Rich Francke, who was one of the people along with Jeremy Houck who helped me make the transition from civilian life back to the military in 2007.  One of Francke's mottos was, "If it ain't rainin' we ain't trainin'." 

As I walked up the ramp onto the span getting soaked at a rate that felt like it could be measured in gallons per minute, I straightened my shoulders and imagined myself marching with field gear in the woods in a driving rain and thought 'at least I won't be sleeping in this.'  

The walkway has both a bike lane and a pedestrian lane. There was no one else walking, but there was a steady flow of bicyclists. Most of them were on electric bikes wrapped in raincoats. They were food delivery riders looking very miserable.  After I turned back toward Manhattan,  saw one slow, wobbly bicyclist on a regular bike. She was pedaling slowly and crying heading for Queens. She clearly did not think riding in the rain was an adventure.

Today there were more walkers, but not a lot.  I passed maybe 30 pedestrians in each direction on the 7500-foot-long bridge.  

There were many more bicyclists. Easily hundreds passed me.  One was wearing an Ironman bike jersey. He saw my Ironman hat and we waved.  A third of the bicyclists today were delivery riders, but there were also serious riders and tourists.  

 Completed in 1909, The 59th Street Bridge (now the Ed Koch Queensborough Bridge) was the subject of a song by Simon and Garfunkel that most people know as "Feelin' Groovy." Billy Joel's video for the song "Your Only Human (Second Wind)" was filmed primarily on the bridge.  The bridge has been part of more than a dozen movies from 1932 to 2018, most recently in "Avengers: Infinity Wars."

Reading "The Death of Expertise" on a Train: And meeting an idiot

Yesterday I was on a train from Philadelphia to Lancaster. I was near the end of the last car with a half dozen other people in the car. I was reading the book "The Death of Expertise" for a discussion a week from Sunday.

Halfway through the 75-minute trip, a guy in his 50s who was from Lancaster walked toward the end of the car. As he walked past me he could see me wearing a mask. He was not wearing one. He stopped and said "The Amish lived here for hundreds of years without wearing masks....." I stood and told him to get the fuck away from me that I did not need his idiocy or his germs. He left.

I defended expertise. It was fun.

The book is about people with arrogance, untroubled by any actual learning, who believe themselves experts in anything. I know I am going to like this book.

Fewer Miles, More Challenge and Beauty on Walks

The Brooklyn Bridge, empty in the middle of a beautiful summer day

In the past week I walked fewer miles than the week before: this week was 67 miles, the previous week was 91 miles.  But I walked in some beautiful and challenging places.

Yesterday I walked the Brooklyn Bridge. Completed in 1883, it was the longest bridge in the world until 1903--nearly 6,000 feet or 1,825 meters from Manhattan to Brooklyn crossing the East River.  

I loved this bridge from the first time I walked across it in the 90s.  When I returned from a year in Iraq in 2010, I went to New York City and one of the first things I did was walk across the Brooklyn Bridge.  After so much ugly I wanted to be in civilization in a beautiful place. Here is the blog post from that day in January 2010.

Earlier this week I walked across the Ben Franklin Bridge in Philadelphia, another beautiful bridge. The span across the Delaware River from Philadelphia to Camden was completed in 1926. At 9,500 feet or 2,900 meters it is almost a half mile longer than the Brooklyn Bridge and rises 150 feet above the Delaware at the center of the span.  

On Sunday last week I walked up Indianhead Road in Lancaster County. This rural road that runs parallel to a busy road has an average grade of 11% but near the top the grade is 20%.  So it's a good workout even walking.  

In the coming weeks I am planning to cross more big bridges.  One of them is the Tappan Zee Bridge--3.1 miles or 5km across the river--a six miles round trip.  There are many bridges to cross in New York City including the 1.5-mile Queensborough Bridge.  

I am also going to walk some of the 5-mile hills in Western Pa. and Upstate New York. I will be off the bike for a while, but I can still get a workout.

Wives and Mothers Will Rip Trump a New Asshole

Trump has dodged many bullets in his deplorable term as President, but he won't get out of this line of fire.  Military wives and mothers and fathers are asking for answers about the Russians paying bounties for dead Americans.  Trump can tell another hundred of his 20,000 lies denying he knew, but he now has an enemy that will not give up.

In 2011 and again in 2013 I was on a roster to be deployed to Afghanistan. In both cases I did some pre-deployment training. The first time I was cut from the roster when the deployment was reduced in size, the second time the entire deployment was cancelled.

If I had deployed, I planned to blog every day if possible.  And if I did, I knew that my main audience would be the wives and mothers and other family members of the soldiers in my unit.

When I deployed the first time and blogged every day, I thought my audience would my friends and family and maybe those who were curious about military service. They were my audience also, but most of the comments I got were from wives and mothers who heard little or nothing from their soldier.  They really wanted to know what we ate, where we slept, what we did night and day. 

The most popular post I wrote the whole year was about the containers we slept in. 

The wives and parents wanted to know about everything and they worried over every news report. If a base was attacked 200 miles away, someone would ask me what happened. I would answer that the attack was 200 miles away. The response would be some variation of, "No one tells me anything."

With more and more reports coming out confirming that both Pentagon and intelligence leaders knew the plot to be true, military wives and parents will demand answers until they get them.

No amount of bullying or whining will make this crisis go away. A grieving parent who feels betrayed is an implacable enemy.

          

                                        

Eight Differences Between Walking and Riding; and One Similarity

Walking is so different than riding

I made an abrupt switch from riding every day to walking every day. A smashed elbow and surgery took me off the bike.  Just as when I broke my neck, daily walks became the only workout option possible.

Here are the differences:

1. Speed:  The speed of the bike and walking is so different.  Today, I turned onto Harrisburg Pike. A man 50 feet in front of me was carrying a backpack on one shoulder and a black trash bag on the other shoulder. As we neared Charlotte Street, he started dragging the trash bag.  He turned the corner and stopped in the shade.  I live a couple of blocks away. I walked home and got a big roller suitcase that we were going to get rid of.  I wheeled it back and offered it to the guy who was sitting in the shade eating. He said thanks and I continued my walk.

If I were riding, I would have passed him while riding on a busy road and kept going.  I would have gone by fast enough that I may not have noticed him and would not have thought what I could do to help.

At walking speed, I see people for minutes, not seconds, so I can think.

2. Talking:  I can also talk. I can call friends and family and make other calls because I am only going three miles per hour. I can't talk on a phone on a bicycle. I can also talk to someone I am walking with. It is possible to talk on a bike, but never much deeper than a cookie sheet. Riders always have to be alert for hazards and traffic.

3. Space-Time: In Pennsylvania the rolling hills usually allow a rider to see a half-mile to a mile ahead.  The thing that comes into view a mile away is three to four minutes away depending on how fast I am riding.  When I see a mile ahead to a hill crest or a bridge when I am walking, it will be 20 minutes until I pass that spot.  When I walk to a place three miles away I need an hour. The world looks much bigger walking.

4. Other Walkers vs. Other Riders:  Bike riders wave or nod their heads when they pass each other as a rule.  There is a fellowship of those who ride in traffic.  It was the same when I rode motorcycles.  Although in the 1970s, Harley riders did not wave at riders on Japanese-made bikes we riders of the reliable bikes waved at each other.  But walkers only acknowledge each other if they recognize each other or are close together, like passing on the same sidewalk.  No one nods or waves across a road.

5. In Lancaster Walking Stops at the City Line: I have walked outside of the city to the north and west. When I leave the city limits, I am the only walker. In six weeks I have not passed another person walking on a road.  I mostly walk on major roads, so there are surely people walking somewhere outside the city, but I don't see them.

6. I Understand Why Some People Hate Bicyclists:  I do not see walkers outside the city, but I see bicyclists everywhere.  I see people who seem to know how to ride who are riding on sidewalks. There is no reason for a bicycle to be on a sidewalk.

7. I Can Think When I Walk:  On a bicycle speed and traffic make thinking as shallow as talking. I sometimes have an idea come into my mind, but then it floats away.  Walking on a sidewalk or the shoulder of a road, I can actually think for a reasonable amount of time.  It's much better than swimming in that way. Swimming is also slow, but I had to make the turns at each end of the pool.

8. I Do Not Compete with Other Walkers: Sometimes when I see other riders ahead of me, especially on a hill (up or down) I will try to catch them and feel a rush as I catch up to them even if they are not trying to go fast.  I don't ever compete with other walkers. I am moving so slowly that competition does not occur to me.

And the similarity:
I Can Be Obsessed with Any Activity. In 2007, I walked three miles every day, sometimes a little more, but not much.  This time walking has become a very slow sport.  Since the day I walked home from the hospital six weeks ago, I have been walking more each week: 43 miles the first week, then 52, 64, 73, 81 and this week 91 miles.