An Unnecessary Freezing of Water

  (I started this on Saturday, became overwhelmed with snow ennui, and had to go lay on the fainting couch.)
  One long winter years ago, I actually started to suffer from seasonal depression.  I was also dating a lunatic, so that might have had something to do with it as well.  Anyway, my solution was to try tanning, to get those life-affirming yet deadly UV rays - and it worked!  I felt a lot better, and I didn't even care that I looked ridiculous.  As I sit here watching out the window at the sleet falling, the sleet that will eventually turn into five inches of snow by morning, I'm considering tanning once again.  Fortunately or unfortunately, this time around the thought of middle-aged me knowingly entering a tanning salon is seriously holding me back.  So I'm wondering, will using a tanning product fool me into cheerfulness?  I was thinking of going with Kardashian Glow.

It's supposed to give me, "that glowy tan feeling", in the erudite words of Khloé.  It's supposed to give me big boobs, too.  I don't know...after months of brittle cold and feeling like I want to eat pounds of raw meat for the vitamin C, I'm afraid this is the only "Kardashian" you're going to meet if you run into me at this point.

(Her boobs are still bigger than mine.)

   The hammer blow of this recent weather development is particularly heavy because, 

1. All predictions up until 24 hours ago were pointing to It's Finally Going to Get Warm! and, 

2. My Ride for Roswell buddies and I were going to go on our first group ride since October.

Sunday, March 30

Well, I gave up yesterday, ate a lot of pasta, and hid under the covers.  This morning we woke up to this:

 

Before admitting defeat, however, I went for a ride yesterday before the sleet/snow started.  Just by myself - the group ride will have to wait, again.
   I decided to go over to Canada (everything's better in Canada) and ride on the Friendship Trail (see? they name trails after friends!), and see what's up.  Here is the start, below the Peace Bridge (I'm pretty sure Canada named that, too).

 

The trail was pretty clear for the next 2 miles, with some squishy spots, and then I left the trail to ride along Lakeshore Rd., which is what Canada builds along its lakefront instead of a thruway.

 

To be fair, there's a Lakeshore Rd. on the American side, too - it's just 20 miles south of Buffalo, in a place that isn't Buffalo.  

   This part of Lakeshore Rd. on the Canadian side, going SW, ends at the next trail head for the Friendship Trail near Waverly Beach.  Here is where the trail became impossible to ride on.

Under several feet of snow is another foot of sand that had blown in before the beach froze.

(frozen beach)

After some "portage", and with floppy, wet toe covers that looked like elf shoes, I chose to ride on an access road called Edgemere Rd., which runs parallel to the trail.  Every once in a while I'd pop onto the trail to see if it was clear,

and, nope.  Silly me had taken the studded tires off my bike already, it being March and all, otherwise this ice landscape would have been ride-able.  

Edgemere Rd. ended at someone's property, so clearly it was time to take a picture of my bike.

 This is the mountain bike for "getting around unpleasant obstacles", rather than for actual mountain biking.  Which is a good thing, because the bolt holding the rear derailleur to the frame disintegrated a month after I bought the bike (no, there was no salt on the roads at this point).  Ah, Specialized, why did I think you were a good idea?

   Heading back the way I came, I decided to take a picture of the "thing".

This has been under construction for months, and I never knew what it was until yesterday, when I interrupted a conversation between two men standing in front of it to inquire.  The fellow who looked the most knowledgeable began with, "Well, now, it's got three storeys, see...."  What I took away from this speech was, this was a house, and the owners were actually living in it already, in the back of the first floor, and there was a swimming pool on the second floor.  The third floor, with large glass doors "so they can go look at the lake after they get out of the pool", is apparently just for after-pool lake viewing.  Oh, and "for watching the dogs in the yard", which I realized three hours later was probably humor (or maybe it all was).  So now I know, and it's even weirder than I thought.  It still reminds me of making Star Wars stuff out of shoe boxes when I was a kid.

   More portaging, and more soggy elf shoes, and then it was over the bridge back home (I forgot to mention that I was scolded at the Canadian crossing for doing exactly as I had been instructed the last time I crossed, which seems to be a fun activity for Canadian customs agents, and is a regular occurrence - I guess not everything is better in Canada).

These instructions appeared last fall on both ends of the bridge.  No one walks their bike over, ever.

                    Just about the halfway point - there's a lot more "hill" on the way back over.

 The scary Niagara River (which wasn't too frightening this time), and good ol' Buffalo.

And then the "cage" at the end you get to stand in until someone lets you out.  So very welcoming we are, aren't we?

We get a bike rack, at least.

 After making sure he could see my ears really well, the American customs agent sent me on my way.  I don't want to know.

So this has been circulating the interwebs for a couple of weeks.  It's British, and it's cool.  It's also applicable to us here in the US, just without the words, "mum", or "velocipede".

Here is also something those fabulous Canadians are doing in Vancouver.  It would never fly here in Don't Tax Me Tea Party Land, but it's always nice to dream.

Also, to top off this ok blog post - I was reading a Team Estrogen forum thread about the ubiquitous topic of My Ass Hurts, and found out about this really interesting cycling apparel company in the Southwest.  They have a line of wool clothing, even shorts!  And the designs are classic.  Let your randonneuring friends know about this one.

Take a Picture, It'll Last Longer

   Ah, Sunday the 23rd of March, how much you are like every Sunday in December, January and February.  This morning we watched in horror as the snow fell, yet again.  Even our dog tried to bite it, which he never does.  The air temperature at 1:00 PM?  Twenty-one degrees Fahrenheit (10° windchill).  Nature is laughing; a grating, Pee Wee Herman laugh.
   At least, for now, the snow is covering the Fecal Landscape that is Buffalo during a thaw.

Be assured, this is all made of poop.

Attempting to gross myself out completely with this train of thought, I happened upon an article about one of the results of our sewer and storm drains not being separate from each other (as in, they're the same tube pouring god-knows-what all over the place).  But then, while scanning the comments for juicy adjectives, I came across this, an amazing blog by a fellow Buffalonian who explores some of our more bizarre places, and takes high quality photos as he goes.  One of them is the giant sewer tunnel that the above mentioned creek runs into.  Like Marat in the sewers of Paris, he walked the entire length with a friend and documented it on his blog (well, Marat didn't have a blog).  No skin conditions manifested as a result.  For any of you who love old, abandoned places, the more industrial the better, this blog is for you.  And he kind of tells you where these sites are, which is very nice and non-snobbish of him.

   Moving on to much less exciting news, but news that might prove informative nonetheless, I will tell you of my recent decision to switch car insurance carriers to Progressive.  Being overly enthusiastic about new things in general, I decided it would be peachy keen if I also tried their Snapshot device in my car, to get supposed discounts.

Looking like a cross between a thumb drive and a case of birth control pills, the Snapshot device doesn't take actual photos, but plugs into your car's diagnostic port and chirrups happily every time you hit your brakes too hard.  Why is it so happy?  Because every time it chirps is one less chance for the poor sucker (golly, this is really boss!) who thought it was a good idea to plug Big Brother into her car to get a discount.  So far, any time it has made any noise I've been driving around 20 mph and lilting to a stop like a sparrow touching down on a branch.  I'm screwed.  Apparently, some people have it even worse than me, and yet others are very happy with their Snapshot.  Here is a comprehensive blog piece on the Snapshot someone took a heck of a lot of time compiling anecdotal information for, so you'd better read it, you cads!  I'll be updating you all on which insurance carrier I will be switching to frantically in 6 months.
   You know those old Carol Burnett skits, where everyone is laughing hysterically, and wigs are askew, and costumes are ripped, and props are collapsing willy-nilly?  Well, that's basically me trying to eat on a road bike (I always wear a wig when I'm on a bicycle).   Because every attempt at "fueling" is a calamity waiting to happen, I try to eat those neat little "chews" that are available for us incurable klutzes.  However, nothing is easy when it comes to me and bicycles, and so not any old chew will do, as I have a rather sensitive stomach.  Things could go from Carol Burnett to GG Allin very quickly if I eat something with a lot of processed sugar, or maltodextrin, or chemicals (also known as "natural flavors").  I used to take Clif Shot Bloks on my rides, because their main sweetening agent was brown rice syrup.

Then I noticed they changed the recipe and switched from brown rice syrup to maltodextrin.  So now I use Honey Stinger Chews, which I believe are the only quick energy chews available that don't have processed anything in them.

And they have honey in them, which for a person like me who is part pooh and part hobbit, means they contain the nectar of life itself.
For any of you who are trying to decide what is best to use while riding or running, here's a nice review I found of the energy gels out there, and what their ingredients are.
When I need the higher calorie, protein and carb kind of bar for long rides, I like these:

Bonk Breakers have mostly natural, organic ingredients, although only the Almond Butter and Honey, and Apple Pie bars have no cane sugar at all in them.
 
   Recently, Bicycling Magazine featured a recipe for homemade energy bars in their online blog.  I decided to try making the bars, to see if they worked for me and saved some money.  I won't include a picture of the final product, because they are definitely not as neat and tidy as Bonk Breakers.  Anyway, I altered the recipe to include ingredients I already knew were optimally digestible, and I added a little more protein in the form of hemp powder, as that also helps me to digest everything at a reasonable pace.  The final yield was 32 bars that were roughly 4 cm square, with each one being approximately 285 calories.  Since I can't yet do a 3-4 hour ride to test these, I ate one after the next-hardest workout, Insanity.  If an energy bar feels like it's absorbing directly into my cells with life-giving ambrosia, even after a barf-inducing workout, I know it's the right energy bar for me.  And the homemade ones passed this test!  This recipe is definitely a winner - it's easy to follow and easy to alter to suit you personally.  And it saves money.  I used rather expensive ingredients, and it still cost about half of what Bonk Breakers cost.
As for Insanity,

it's still pretty silly.  I gain lots of muscle, but almost never lose weight, because this type of workout makes me want to eat whole chickens every chance I get.  And, since I'm 98% hobbit, I just end up looking like a strangely pumped hobbit when all is said and done.  There will definitely be no "after" pictures, that's for sure.



  

Céad Míle Rothair

   This past week Winter made it clear it wasn't done with us yet, and on Wednesday it dumped a good ol' fashioned blizzard on Buffalo.  There wasn't a lot of snow, but the winds were blowing at around 50 mph, leaving some fancy "snow sculptures" behind when things died down.

I'm pretty sure this thing tried to talk to me while I was out shoveling.  The next day revealed some picturesque scenes, but I think we've had all the pretty winter vistas we'll ever want or need.  Here's one anyway.

   Like most winters, this one had its share of plow mishaps, with the latest falling into the "whodunnit" category;  a plow rammed into 5 cars in the middle of the night on Humboldt Parkway in February and left the scene without so much as a "Ha ha!" horn toot.  Now, after some Buffalo police sleuthing, the plow has been identified as belonging to the state DOT.  As to be expected, the wheels of justice, or wheels of insurance claims, are turning very slowly on this one.  In various comments sections, people are either angry or dismissive.  The anger is generally directed toward "big government", and the dismissiveness is of the, "the plow operator probably didn't even know it happened, so give the guy a break" type.  The latter attitude is entirely congruous with the state of our laws regarding traffic, which can be boiled down to - if you hit stuff with your car and you're oblivious (not fleeing the scene counts for very little these days), as long as you're not drunk there's nothing wrong with you and it was all a terrible accident, oh well.  Of course, it seems to me that if you're stone cold sober and you smash into things with your car without any of it capturing your attention in the slightest, there is something really wrong with you.
   But back to blizzards - because of our biggest claim to fame, the Blizzard of '77, the city comes to a complete halt whenever there is a blizzard forecast.  This allows for yet another drinking holiday, like our McCinco de Mardi Gras celebrations.

And for my spouse and me in this instance, it was a day of utter laziness complete with breakfast for lunch and the consumption of an entire package of fake Stella D'oro Elegant Dipping Cookies found at the corner store, which was still open.
   Another thing that Buffalonians do right after a blizzard - go for a bike ride.  Yep, today was the inaugural ride of the Niagara Frontier Bicycle Club's spring season, the St. Patrick's Day Ride.  I had every intention of going on this ride.  I even dug out the Forbidden Hat.

My wife considers this hat to be a form of spousal abuse, so it stays hidden in a drawer most of the time.  Sometimes when I'm the only one home I will put it on and prance around like a leprechaun.  So yeah, I was ready for a bike ride!  Then I noticed that there was a 3°F wind chill, which would only increase to a sweltering 5°F wind chill by the afternoon.  Having vowed in a pique sometime in February that I would not ride a bike in temperatures below 20°F ever again (or at least until next winter, which should start in June), I am now beholden to this solemn vow.  And I just don't want to freeze my ass off anymore.  Besides, I don't really remember how to put on a helmet.  But I have this handy chart in case I need it.

So, once again, in this blog about cycling, I will be writing about the enormously captivating activity I engaged in instead of riding my bike.  And I won't disappoint!  Because this time I did two things:
I walked the dog, and did a High Intensity Interval Training workout, also known as Insanity.  Insanity is basically the opposite of riding a bike, and really isn't good for anything but developing crazy endurance for Insanity workouts, but I do it anyway for two reasons:

1) I'm an idiot.
2) It's the only way to get warm these days.

Here's the promotional image for the workout, and I'm not really sure what happened, because I'm supposed to be in this photo.  See where that big space is?  Well, it's a good thing I have my own copy so I can show you what it's supposed to look like:

That was when I was in shape.

 So Shaun T., the inventor of Insanity, basically figured out that if you jump up and down until you collapse, like an eight year-old after eating a bowl of Lucky Charms, you will end up extremely fit.  Who knew?  We make Lucky Charms here in Buffalo, by the way, and everyone will smell them in the air tomorrow, as a special hangover treat on St. Patrick's Day.

Rise, Neighbots, Rise!

    I'm pretty sure that not riding my bike for a month-and-a-half has caused some neural misfiring which in turn has led me to believe my bad jokes are actually really funny.  I could get a brain scan to confirm this, but I don't want to find out I'm a psychopath who just hasn't happened to kill anyone (yet).  Will you still love me if I'm missing an amygdala, dear reader? I think I'll stay in the dark about that one.
   Here is what I am missing - most of the important top layers of epidermis from my face and hands, and a time, long ago, when I didn't have to cut the arms off of sweaters and put them on my legs.  Please don't tell me if hipsters are doing this, too.  Hopefully, they're too busy knitting sweaters for penguins.
   The Penguin Foundation states on their website, "This is not a fashion statement!"  Oh, those wily New Zealanders!  They knew exactly what they were doing when they wrote that.  Not only did every granny in Oceania heed the call, but every hipster in Brooklyn took to their grottoes and garrets and knitted thousands of sweaters for penguins.

   There was such a surfeit of sweaters, in fact, that the wildlife organizations sent out a plea to STOP KNITTING PENGUIN SWEATERS.  They ended up with over 15,000 sweaters, which they found a way to sell separately to raise funds.

"Help! Some hipsters are trying to put more sweaters on us!"

There was even some controversy over whether or not the whole thing was really a hoax (with elaborately photoshopped penguins?), but someone in Portland has cleared it up for us.

   The hipsters who have managed to put down their knitting needles are now busy wearing monocles, according to The New York Times.  They can't knit and wear monocles at the same time, because they're expending too much effort holding them to their eyes in a foppish manner.

I'm thinking about squeezing my torso into a penguin sweater, shaving my head like a samurai, and holding a monocle to my eye in a foppish manner.  And I will finish this look off with the Top Accessory of the Most Soul-Destroying Winter in History - sweater legs.

This photo doesn't capture completely the ridiculousness of said sweater legs, although the "puss in boots" effect at the knee is somewhat visible.  Normally, when it isn't so warm out (it's 15° F right now), the sweater legs would be a third layer under jeans or snowpants or whatever.

   So I was going to ride my bike today, but I didn't want to wear sweater legs, or the thousands of other clothing layers that I am officially sick to death of wearing.  With the wind chill being somewhere around 0°, I felt that the past three months of riding in 0° wind chill had filled my winter cycling quota, and I decided to take the dog on a long walk instead.  We headed for the water, because that's where the wind chill was below zero.  The route I like takes us past Castle Aaaghh!

That was early on in the walk.  Then, keeping in a westerly direction, we passed through Columbus Parkway.

You can see Castle Aaaghh! in the distance behind us.  Then it was on to Front Park.

Like all Olmsted Parks in Buffalo, Front Park has a highway running through it - actually several arterials, all converging at the Peace Bridge to Canada.

After making it across that, we were safely in the park with some local fauna.

My dog might look like he's interested in the geese way in the background, but he's actually calculating their poop output, and how much of it he can snarf up before I start yelling.
We made our way to the opposite entrance to the park, where there is an onramp to the 190.

 We crossed that without incident, and then it was over the bridge above the 190, where the sidewalk hasn't been plowed since snow started falling in November.

 At the end of the bridge is the offramp of the 190,

and then after crossing this we were free to enter La Salle Park.  Believe it or not, this is one of the least stressful routes in the city to walk a dog (or just to walk).  We took the path straight ahead (that grey band in the distance is Lake Erie) to the water.

And here we were at the Mighty Lake.  The point of land in the distance is Waverly Beach in Ontario, Canada, where I'm sure it was at least one degree warmer.

And...more lake.  You might have noticed by now that it is completely frozen.  The only open water on almost the entire thing is that grey band in the distance that is the beginnings of the Niagara River. 
   We moved out of the insane headwind and walked back eastward to Rotary Park and the bike path, where the dog decided that every field mouse in existence was hiding, and there were no more pictures possible.

Here we have the lovely fake Roycroft lettering indicating the entrance.

I really wish I could have gotten a photo of the dog with his head completely buried in a snow drift looking for mice, because it was pretty darn cute.  He was also really glad I didn't go for a bike ride.

The City of Good Neighbors

   When writing out the title to this particular blog post, I accidentally typed, "The City of Good Neighbots".  Freudian slip or dystopian warning (or merely bad typing skills)?  Or maybe, it's the Buffalo motto that some people would prefer.  Buffalo is also called, An All America City.

Hopefully, no one actually prefers this one, since it makes us look like a bunch of illiterate knuckleheads.  "Neighbots", on the other hand, has kind of a nice, orderly imagery - a sense of predictability that would be much appreciated in a place like Buffalo's Elmwood Village, especially in light of the recent chaos there.  Here's a recounting of last week's scene via Facebook:

That's right, people, Sunday afternoon foot races are the cause of all this mayhem of waiting in taxis and such.

Just look at them all, smugly clogging a road lane for almost an hour!  And in February, in Buffalo! (This picture is not of the actual race, in case anyone needed clarification of the fact that it's butt-ass cold here.)  I can almost sympathize with Ed, because it is pretty weird to be stuck in a taxi with the meter running.

 These guys don't mind - they're waiting for other cars, not pedestrians.

I'm not really sure I've heard about it happening all that much. 

  So I started out in full annoying reply mode to Ed's status:

Luckily, no one was really paying attention, due to the crisis at hand.  A voice of reason did appear from Dan:

But Ed was not deterred.

I tried my hand at Explanation of the Obvious:

And it was unacceptable.

Satisfied with his explanation of how he missed the "Cooperation" episode of Sesame Street 45 years ago, Ed went on to discuss the weather with Dan.
Not one to quit, even when it's a really good idea, I tried my hand at Apologetic Explanation of the Obvious:

Which yielded the expected, "I will tolerate things I personally like engaging in, but not things I don't" response:

Now, unable to control myself in the least, I tried my hand at Pathetically Obsequious Explanation of the Obvious:

Which resulted in Awkward Moments:

Ed goes on to sort-of kind-of apologize for being "cranky", but then things get interesting as others offer "solutions" to the "race problem" (take that how you will):

This is my personal favorite.  Nothing puts arsenic in the rum pudding like, "Why don't they all just go to the country?"  I'm also very fond of the repeated suggestions that the races be held in a park.  Because that's never been done before.
Here's a suggestion to file under, "Nonsensical":

Hi, Everyone!  I'm raising money NOT to run in the Leukemia Society 5K this Saturday, held on Genesee Street, simultaneously with every other 5K scheduled for that day!  Show me the money!

And then we round out this unfortunate conversation with the show-stopper:

Ellipsis, and....house lights come down.
I know, Madge, I know!  It would be really dumb to run right into a pot hole.  Just not nearly as dumb as driving a $20,000 piece of machinery through one.  And a funny thing about those infernal foot racers - they tend to run around obstacles instead of directly into them.
   So what is to be done about these horrible people (the runners, of course)?  Besides being the Cause (and cyclists, and walkers, and anyone who isn't driving a car and dares to be on the road) of traffic problems, the foot racers aren't terribly interesting.  So I've decided that runners should all dress how they used to in the 70's, and that would make people, especially impatient, affluent white people, like them more.

I'm liking them more already!

Ahh,  nothing soothes an over-arching sense of entitlement like some camel toe vintage photos of runners.

Since Ed hasn't noticed until now the race that has been held in his neighborhood every February for the last 35 years (because damn if he's going to check a website, or notice the news, or see the flyers, or listen to his friends who are running in the race), it's probably not a good idea to tell him about some of the more flamboyant races that are gaining in popularity, maybe?

 "Dude! Jello shots at Ed's house after!"

  One of the many illicit work camps that will be operating during the Apocalypse.

 No, probably not.  We'll wait until they're building the jello/vodka/mud/sumo/dye/thong pit in front of his house to break the news.

   

   For those of us with real problems, here's how the last four months have been for anyone in Buffalo trying to use their legs or a bicycle to get around:

          

There's a bike lane under there somewhere.  Notice where the dotted lines go - directly underneath a parked car.

Yes, I took that last photo from my car.  Because I'm not someone with real problems - I'm more in the Ed category.  For those who don't have the privilege of driving (and yes, it's a privilege, not a right), this winter has been alarmingly brutal.  This is in part due to the fact that the City of Buffalo, like many cities its size in the Northeast, is not required to plow bike lanes - but mostly due to the fact that it does not make plowing sidewalks a priority (or even an afterthought).  It is probably needless to say how dangerous it is for people to have to walk in the street to get anywhere (even to the bus stop), but for some reason they're forced to do so, every friggin' winter.  

   Slowly, ever so slowly (and slow is fast in Buffalo), making the streets safer in this town is getting more press and more community effort, with many thanks to Green Options Buffalo (more often called GO Bike Buffalo).  It might seem ridiculous for a city to build bike lanes and then use them as snow storage in the winter, but this is Major Progress for Buffalo, and the good parts couldn't have happened without GO Bike's advocacy and the efforts of individuals and LBS's.  There are A LOT more people riding bikes and walking around Buffalo than there were 5-10 years ago - something that we as Buffalo residents are going to have to notice, and on some uncomfortable levels.  No one should have to prove to anyone they have the right to use the public roads they pay for for something other than driving a car.  More importantly, no one should have to prove they have the right NOT to be run over by someone who has been conditioned to believe on some level that he/she is entitled to do so (that would be everyone who drives, by the way).  That last one is tough, and it can't be ignored like a 5K race schedule.  

  And the fiscal "toll" of modifying roadways to accommodate only one type of transportation is becoming too hard to ignore also.  Here's the state of funding for highways for 2014 - for the entire US.  There it is.  Can you hear the deafening alarms?  I hope so.

   As for the steadfastly intolerant drivers among us, no worries!  When I'm carting them and their useless limp spaghetti legs around in my rickshaw, as part of my extremely lucrative rickshaw business I will own during the apocalypse, there will be plenty of time to talk about evolution.