I've commuted by bicycle, I've traveled by bicycle, and most recently, I've herded cows on a bicycle.
At Buck Run Farm, the grass-fed beasts travel over 350 acres to the freshest pastures guided by their faithful herdsman. The mob grazing technique employed at the farm is fairly intensive and involves moving the cows daily to new forage in the amount of an acre or less. The cows eat 40% and trample 60% all the while depositing fairly concentrated cow-pies on an acre or less. As far as I understand, this pasture management is thought to be more sustainable because of its ability to increase the biological and microbial activity of the soil and more cost effective by eliminating the need to hay fields.
Sometimes moving cows goes smoothly and sometimes it involved unexpected events.... like last week, when half the herd stormed the neighbor's driveway only to end up in the flower bed. As you might expect, this is not a way to make friends with the local residents.
The farm has a four-wheel drive two-person ATV of sorts - which is generally used in conjunction with someone walking to direct the movement of the herd on the other side. The system is a fine one for predictable days when the cows are well behaved (read: not hungry)- but sometimes (on chaotic days when you're the one walking) one wishes for something a little faster - a horse perhaps to chase the lone steer back to the herd - or better yet - A BICYCLE.
I'm going to step out on a limb here and assert that bicycles are be the most underused herding tool and form of farm transportation out there - at least within the North American context. They are fast enough to catch a cow, quiet enough to sneak up on a cow, and mysterious enough to keep the herd at an arms length and moving in the direction you want them.
Totally practical, definitely my favorite new piece of farm equipment, and depending on what next year brings, maybe just the excuse for another bike.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Half Wit Half
Among the best articles I have read comparing biking to running, is that written by blogger Grizzly Adam (http://grizzlyadam.net/2011/04/bike-vs-run.html). With running cons like short shorts, the close relationship between running and "triathlon weirdness", and sore sore legs, Adam draws the one and only sensible conclusion: mountain biking is a more sensible and overall superior past time. No way around it. Nonetheless, I've been running and I've been trying to like it.
Last winter I couldn't bring myself to ride my bike outside. Kingston, Ontario does a poor job of removing snow, so road biking was out. Mountain biking trails are less-than-accessible from the city's downtown, and I had yet to invest in a pair of studded tires. I didn't have a living situation that was indoor trainer friendly so I tried the gym, but something about riding a trainer indoors to the tune of overly self-aware "bros" overtly gawking at themselves in the mirror didn't really do it for me. I tried running. Meh. It was ok.
Then it was summer.
Then there were dirt trails.
Then I tried running again.
Last Sunday I ran my first half marathon, the Half Wit Half. A trail race near Reading, PA. The 13.1 miles wove through Mount Penn's beautiful single and double track trails. I ran the whole thing next to my sister and half an hour behind one of my oldest friends in the world - in the rain.
And you know what?
It was fun!
Until mile 10 and then my knee hurt. And then Monday my knees hurt and my ankle hurt. And then Tuesday my knees didn't hurt anymore, but my calves and my ankle hurt. And now it is a week later and my ankle is still slightly sore and as a result I'm not racing my bike tomorrow. The Rattling Creek 50. Unfinished business from last year to remain unfinished until next year just to make sure I don't really mess it up.
I think that if I could learn how to run so that it didn't hurt for the following 5 days, I could enjoy running. However, as it stands, not only am I no good at it, but it has prevented me from riding in one of the best long races around. Nonsensical. And speaking of nonsensical behavior, I'm registered for Labor Pains 12 hour running race as part of a team for Labor Day weekend.
Last winter I couldn't bring myself to ride my bike outside. Kingston, Ontario does a poor job of removing snow, so road biking was out. Mountain biking trails are less-than-accessible from the city's downtown, and I had yet to invest in a pair of studded tires. I didn't have a living situation that was indoor trainer friendly so I tried the gym, but something about riding a trainer indoors to the tune of overly self-aware "bros" overtly gawking at themselves in the mirror didn't really do it for me. I tried running. Meh. It was ok.
Then it was summer.
Then there were dirt trails.
Then I tried running again.
Last Sunday I ran my first half marathon, the Half Wit Half. A trail race near Reading, PA. The 13.1 miles wove through Mount Penn's beautiful single and double track trails. I ran the whole thing next to my sister and half an hour behind one of my oldest friends in the world - in the rain.
 | ||
| post-race check out those pie muscles in the middle! |
And you know what?
It was fun!
Until mile 10 and then my knee hurt. And then Monday my knees hurt and my ankle hurt. And then Tuesday my knees didn't hurt anymore, but my calves and my ankle hurt. And now it is a week later and my ankle is still slightly sore and as a result I'm not racing my bike tomorrow. The Rattling Creek 50. Unfinished business from last year to remain unfinished until next year just to make sure I don't really mess it up.
I think that if I could learn how to run so that it didn't hurt for the following 5 days, I could enjoy running. However, as it stands, not only am I no good at it, but it has prevented me from riding in one of the best long races around. Nonsensical. And speaking of nonsensical behavior, I'm registered for Labor Pains 12 hour running race as part of a team for Labor Day weekend.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
101 miles by bike
I am not sure what this says about my personality, but when I decide to do something, I tend towards doing it in the most extreme way possible. I have been known to sleep on my office floor, eat only sardines and gorp, and write compulsively for two weeks straight (I might add it was after a ten month long hiatus - see? not so crazy.... right?!). I have been known to work 16 hour days at three different jobs; and this summer marks the beginning of my venture into the world of endurance sports.
On July 30th, I rode in my very first ultra endurance mountain bike race, the Wilderness 101. The grueling race takes place out near State College over many a mountain.
I arrived in Coburn Park, the campground and start of the race around 2 or 3 in the afternoon the day before the race, parked my car and then got to some last minute bike wrenching. I ran into a couple of folks from PA and NC, headed to Elk Creek Aleworks for some good food and beer with great company, and got the scoop on how to survive the 101 that lay ahead. They told me what aid stations were the best and what trailer I should drop my supplies in. By 9:30 I was horizontal and attempting (unsuccessfully) to sleep in the back of my car for the night.
The park woke up around 5:15am and everyone started suiting up for the day ahead. I was so nervous I had hardly slept at all and was feeling pretty groggy. My first mission was to eat - my thought was to allow some time for digestion. After that, I'd get dressed and fill up water bottles.
There are relatively few women that do this race... only twenty or so out of some 350 riders. Single speed is a pretty big category for men, but it is fairly unusual for women. . Everyone that walked by and noticed my bike said something to the effect of "SS? You're CRAZY!". Their surprise seemed to be rooted at the intersection of my bike choice and gender.... I thought to myself, "there is no way that I am going to finish this race - I've biked 100 miles in a day, but only 50 in the woods, my technical skills aren't great, and I'm not fast... at all". Following the advice of a friend, I kept telling myself, just ride what you can, and if you can't ride it, walk... as fast as your little legs will take you.
I wasn't so concerned about the distance, but I was about the time cut offs. There were aid stations at miles 19, 40, 56, 70, and 90 and time cut offs at 9:00am, 11:30, 2:30, and 6:30. My biggest fear was being cut off after a mere two hours.
We rolled out of the park at 7am as a huge group and headed toward the first climb. It was a few miles up, but my legs were fresh and I was hanging with a big group of geared cyclists - men and women alike. The super fast competitors were already off the front and would be done in about 7 hours. The slowest folks would finish in about 15 hours. The first 20 miles were all fire roads and I rolled in 40 minutes before the cut-off along with a few friends and another woman riding SS. I was feeling good and had a second long climb ahead on a well packed double track trail. I spent the climb chatting with two guys on a tandem (now THAT was crazy) until their derailleur hanger ripped off the bike under the pressure. After making it to the top, I hit the first single-track downhill. I was flying down at about 20 or 25 miles an hour managing to dodge all rocks and some more fearful race competitors who were riding their brakes. I've been trying to work on not being so scared of high speeds.... and it seemed to pay off. I'm not sure what time we rolled into aid station two, but I was still hanging with a big group of cyclists, so I figured I was good for time. I had sent the first of two drop bags to Aid Station 2 so I picked up some food (if you can call carbo-loaded goo food) and continued on my way.
Between aid stations 2 & 3 there was a decent amount of of single track. We would ride up hill for about 4 or 5 miles on fire roads and then bomb down the hills on sketchy loose rocky paths. Around mile 50, we hit a 6 mile hill and I got off to walk for about 15 minutes in an effort to save my legs for later. I was not alone. Geared riders and SS alike were walking up the steep grade hill. By the time we got to the top of the hill, we were already at aid station 3 and it was only 1:15. Some of the women from the field caught me as I feasted on fig newtons and ice cold flat coca cola. For the first time I thought, "I think I might finish this race!". I ate some more, filled up my water bottles and headed towards the longest section of single track of the course.... the sassafras trail.
Sassafras was interesting. I passed a bunch of riders who were more fearful than I of the rocks... and boy were there ever rocks! I fell once, but managed to make it through pretty much unscathed. The down hill section was one of the most treacherous trails I've ever ridden. It was so steep that my seat was literally on my chest in order to keep my weight back to prevent myself from going over the handle bars. It felt like driving a rear wheel car in the snow without snow tires. It was a little jarring, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. It was certainly better than the climbing that lay ahead.
At mile 70, the aid station four crew said there were only two hills ahead. My stomach was feeling a little queezy after not having eaten solid food all day, but after 70 miles, what was 30 more? Well, two hills were actually three hills, and I began to emotionally fall apart around mile 85. I felt like I was going to cry. I tried to cry. I decided the best option was to take my time and intentionally not make the cut-off. That way I didn't have to decide whether or not to keep going; the aid station 5 folks would cut me and that would be that.
I did everything shy of sitting down to waste time so that I didn't have to make the decision to take a DNF 90 miles in to the 101... and then I met Michelle from Rochester.... We were passing each other repeatedly from mile 80 on and rolled into aid station 5 at the same time. It was 6:10 and as much as I had tried, I wasn't slow enough; 6:30 was the cut-off for those of us without lights. Michelle and I looked at each other after eating a few pieces of chocolate and decided that together, we were ready for the last 11 miles and what was truly the final hill.
The end was so close I managed to muster enough energy to ride all but the steepest section. Michelle and I crossed the finish line together at 13 hours on the dot.
It was quite the experience.... and I have to say, I can't wait for the next one - partially because it will only take me 10 hours but mostly for another excuse of fun riding with great company.
Thanks to CycleWorks' Sandie, Blake & Tim for taking me under their wing for the weekend!
On July 30th, I rode in my very first ultra endurance mountain bike race, the Wilderness 101. The grueling race takes place out near State College over many a mountain.
I arrived in Coburn Park, the campground and start of the race around 2 or 3 in the afternoon the day before the race, parked my car and then got to some last minute bike wrenching. I ran into a couple of folks from PA and NC, headed to Elk Creek Aleworks for some good food and beer with great company, and got the scoop on how to survive the 101 that lay ahead. They told me what aid stations were the best and what trailer I should drop my supplies in. By 9:30 I was horizontal and attempting (unsuccessfully) to sleep in the back of my car for the night.
The park woke up around 5:15am and everyone started suiting up for the day ahead. I was so nervous I had hardly slept at all and was feeling pretty groggy. My first mission was to eat - my thought was to allow some time for digestion. After that, I'd get dressed and fill up water bottles.
There are relatively few women that do this race... only twenty or so out of some 350 riders. Single speed is a pretty big category for men, but it is fairly unusual for women. . Everyone that walked by and noticed my bike said something to the effect of "SS? You're CRAZY!". Their surprise seemed to be rooted at the intersection of my bike choice and gender.... I thought to myself, "there is no way that I am going to finish this race - I've biked 100 miles in a day, but only 50 in the woods, my technical skills aren't great, and I'm not fast... at all". Following the advice of a friend, I kept telling myself, just ride what you can, and if you can't ride it, walk... as fast as your little legs will take you.
I wasn't so concerned about the distance, but I was about the time cut offs. There were aid stations at miles 19, 40, 56, 70, and 90 and time cut offs at 9:00am, 11:30, 2:30, and 6:30. My biggest fear was being cut off after a mere two hours.
We rolled out of the park at 7am as a huge group and headed toward the first climb. It was a few miles up, but my legs were fresh and I was hanging with a big group of geared cyclists - men and women alike. The super fast competitors were already off the front and would be done in about 7 hours. The slowest folks would finish in about 15 hours. The first 20 miles were all fire roads and I rolled in 40 minutes before the cut-off along with a few friends and another woman riding SS. I was feeling good and had a second long climb ahead on a well packed double track trail. I spent the climb chatting with two guys on a tandem (now THAT was crazy) until their derailleur hanger ripped off the bike under the pressure. After making it to the top, I hit the first single-track downhill. I was flying down at about 20 or 25 miles an hour managing to dodge all rocks and some more fearful race competitors who were riding their brakes. I've been trying to work on not being so scared of high speeds.... and it seemed to pay off. I'm not sure what time we rolled into aid station two, but I was still hanging with a big group of cyclists, so I figured I was good for time. I had sent the first of two drop bags to Aid Station 2 so I picked up some food (if you can call carbo-loaded goo food) and continued on my way.
Between aid stations 2 & 3 there was a decent amount of of single track. We would ride up hill for about 4 or 5 miles on fire roads and then bomb down the hills on sketchy loose rocky paths. Around mile 50, we hit a 6 mile hill and I got off to walk for about 15 minutes in an effort to save my legs for later. I was not alone. Geared riders and SS alike were walking up the steep grade hill. By the time we got to the top of the hill, we were already at aid station 3 and it was only 1:15. Some of the women from the field caught me as I feasted on fig newtons and ice cold flat coca cola. For the first time I thought, "I think I might finish this race!". I ate some more, filled up my water bottles and headed towards the longest section of single track of the course.... the sassafras trail.
Sassafras was interesting. I passed a bunch of riders who were more fearful than I of the rocks... and boy were there ever rocks! I fell once, but managed to make it through pretty much unscathed. The down hill section was one of the most treacherous trails I've ever ridden. It was so steep that my seat was literally on my chest in order to keep my weight back to prevent myself from going over the handle bars. It felt like driving a rear wheel car in the snow without snow tires. It was a little jarring, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. It was certainly better than the climbing that lay ahead.
At mile 70, the aid station four crew said there were only two hills ahead. My stomach was feeling a little queezy after not having eaten solid food all day, but after 70 miles, what was 30 more? Well, two hills were actually three hills, and I began to emotionally fall apart around mile 85. I felt like I was going to cry. I tried to cry. I decided the best option was to take my time and intentionally not make the cut-off. That way I didn't have to decide whether or not to keep going; the aid station 5 folks would cut me and that would be that.
I did everything shy of sitting down to waste time so that I didn't have to make the decision to take a DNF 90 miles in to the 101... and then I met Michelle from Rochester.... We were passing each other repeatedly from mile 80 on and rolled into aid station 5 at the same time. It was 6:10 and as much as I had tried, I wasn't slow enough; 6:30 was the cut-off for those of us without lights. Michelle and I looked at each other after eating a few pieces of chocolate and decided that together, we were ready for the last 11 miles and what was truly the final hill.
The end was so close I managed to muster enough energy to ride all but the steepest section. Michelle and I crossed the finish line together at 13 hours on the dot.
It was quite the experience.... and I have to say, I can't wait for the next one - partially because it will only take me 10 hours but mostly for another excuse of fun riding with great company.
Thanks to CycleWorks' Sandie, Blake & Tim for taking me under their wing for the weekend!
Summer Summary
The summer always seems to pass quickly, but this year it seems particularly true. With only three short weeks until I head back north, it seems like a good moment to review some of the summer highlights.
May was a blast. I tagged along with an old friend on the first leg of his cross country bike tour (http://steelingwest.com/) on a round about trip out to Cincinnati, Ohio. It was beautiful, fun, and rainy trip and one of the most solid months I've had to date. We met great folks and had wonderful adventures - all well documented by Lowell in his blog.
I headed back to Pennsylvania for the first few weeks of June before making my way south of the Mason-Dixon line in Greensboro, North Carolina. I spent a glorious three weeks down there visiting friends, working at the Edible Schoolyard with amazing young people, and hanging out and riding in Pisgah and Dupont State Forests.
Mid-July I headed back to Pennsylvania where I've spent the rest of the summer. I am lucky to know a great many farmers who provide me with seasonal work whenever I'm in town.
I have been working at a grass-fed beef farm (http://www.buckrunfarm.com/index.html), a vegetable and seed saving farm (http://happycatorganics.com/), and an orchard and csa (http://www.csachestercounty.com/). I love being outside and am trying to soak up as much of the heat and sun and warmth as possible before the cold cold Canadian winter sets in.
May was a blast. I tagged along with an old friend on the first leg of his cross country bike tour (http://steelingwest.com/) on a round about trip out to Cincinnati, Ohio. It was beautiful, fun, and rainy trip and one of the most solid months I've had to date. We met great folks and had wonderful adventures - all well documented by Lowell in his blog.
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| Shenandoah National Park |
I headed back to Pennsylvania for the first few weeks of June before making my way south of the Mason-Dixon line in Greensboro, North Carolina. I spent a glorious three weeks down there visiting friends, working at the Edible Schoolyard with amazing young people, and hanging out and riding in Pisgah and Dupont State Forests.
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| Building a floating garden at one of the Greensboro Children's Museum's Schoolyard Summer Camps! |
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| Chickens at Vollmecke's CSA & Orchard |
I have been working at a grass-fed beef farm (http://www.buckrunfarm.com/index.html), a vegetable and seed saving farm (http://happycatorganics.com/), and an orchard and csa (http://www.csachestercounty.com/). I love being outside and am trying to soak up as much of the heat and sun and warmth as possible before the cold cold Canadian winter sets in.
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