Lift Up Your Hearts!

This Memorial Day I honor my grandfathers, who served our country in World War I.

Howard Harland Langdon, 219th Aero Squadron

George Cunningham Smith, Sr., 5th Engineers, Co. B

Click here for a previous tribute.

During my lifetime I've watched the Deaf community teach the world to see them as people, rather than as people who can't hear. This was brought home most forcefully to me in the story of the two young children, one deaf and one hearing, who met one day, and each went home to report the other's disability. The hearing child explained to his mother that his new friend could not understand him when he spoke, while the deaf child expressed to his own mother his amazement that his playmate could not understand him when he signed.

When our children were young, we willingly let them leave the worship service and follow the mob of other young people to what was called Children's Church. This practice has long been common in Presbyterian-like churches, where no one wants to subject children to a 40- to 60-minute sermon. (Whether or not adults should have to endure a lecture of that length is another issue, but at least it's easier to bear without having to deal with one's frustrated offspring at the same time.) To my dismay, however, even liturgical churches, with their shorter sermons and plenty of action to keep children participating, have embraced the idea of shunting them elsewhere for at least part of the service.

(Young parents will criticize me for changing my thoughts on Children's Church only after our own children were too old to participate, and of course I can't answer them, except to say that if I could start over I would put more effort into finding a church that views children differently.)

At first my primary concern was that churches not follow the world's practice of separating children from their families. Thanks to Dr. May, however, I'm RETHINKING our whole approach to teaching children about God.

The church seems to be looking around more and more at cultural practices for ministries with children. Generations ago, contests and prizes were introduced into children's Christian education. More recently, children's ministers have begun to emulate contemporary media in order to attract children to their church's programs. In many settings, the leadership now realizes that a "wow"-filled program for children is an effective way to entice parents to attend, often resulting in rapid church growth. All too often, this is an uncritical adoption of current cultural practices with children.

Christian education adopted a schooling model a couple of centuries ago, and this model implicitly teaches that knowledge is essential to faith. With Lusk's explanation of faith as "relational trust," that relationship is somewhat of a mystery, defying intellectual explanation. "One doesn't understand a mystery; one experiences it." On this point, Lusk concurs with the findings of several researchers in children's Christian spirituality—that children need to know God, to experience God, before (or at least at the same time as) learning about God. What might this mean for parents and church ministries? Evangelical churches are experienced in teaching children about God, but do these churches help children experience God?

What I think this means is that we should RETHINK our approach to Children's Church, and to Sunday School as well, not just for children but also for adults. Yes, we need classes that are attractive to newcomers, and classes that deal with specific problems and relationships, and most definitely we need classes in theology and the truth about God. I'm not against reason and knowledge; in fact, I would have our studies be a lot more rigorous and intellectually challenging that they usually are.

However, I think our greatest need is for something along the lines of an apprenticeship model. Our children need to see our faith in action much more than they need to know the facts about our faith. What does it matter if you know the grammar and vocabulary of a language, but can't communicate with your neighbor who speaks that language? First, learn to communicate; after that, the grammatical studies will make much more sense.

What does the Christian life look like? What does it mean to be a Christian, not in terms of what one professes to believe, but in one's actions? What does it mean to love God and our neighbors? Our children need, not classes, but to engage life with the church in such a way that they see us worshipping, praying, confessing, forgiving, struggling, and serving. They need to be beside us, as the weaker of us need to be beside the stronger, so that they can take their own tentative steps in an environment that is both supportive and real.

Perhaps the model we should consider for Christian Education should be less a school and more a Gypsy band, where the young child is merely given a small-sized instrument and welcomed into the group. His beginner's squawks are not loud enough to affect the sound of the band; they are overwhelmed by the strength of the more mature players. But as the child listens and experiments in this safe enviroment, he learns more about making music, and faster, than if he'd been confined in a class with other beginners until he was considered old enough to join in the real work.

Perhaps hardest to deal with will be our own painful awareness of how inexperienced we are at making this kind of faith music. All the more should our children see us working to do better. We're not fooling them, anyway.

Yep, hurricane season is almost upon us, though I doubt there'll be much to be concerned about before August. The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration predicts an above average season, with 13 - 16 named storms, four to six becoming Category 3 or higher.

I rode my bicycle to church! One of our two churches is still out of reach, 20 miles away and much of it not well suited to cycling, but the other is only 10 miles distant and almost all of the ride is along a lovely bike trail, so this weekend I decided it was within my reach. On Saturday I made a dry run, in order to know what time to leave home Sunday morning. Turns out it's almost exactly an hour's ride, give or take a minute or two where the trail crosses major highways. I was psyched; If Janet can ride an hour each way to church, so can I!

My expectations were well-founded. The trip was delightful, even though the early-morning fog meant I had to take a little extra time at some of the intersections. Traffic may be sparser early on a Sunday morning, but what cars are there tend to go a little faster, and be less prepared to see a bicyclist, especially one materializing out of the fog.

I arrived at church in time to cool down a little, and change into more appropriate clothes. One might argue that a t-shirt, shorts, and sneakers shouldn't bar one from church, and I'm sure I would have been welcomed; but I'm equally sure that my wet t-shirt wasn't a good idea, and I know my fellow choir members appreciated the fact that I changed and applied the deodorant I had thought to bring with me.

The ride home was hotter, but it didn't matter because a cooling swim was awaiting me at home. It soon became obvious that despite how great I felt after Saturday's trip, my body hadn't fully recovered from that 22-mile exertion. By the end, I was hurting! Even so, I made the return trip in an hour, so I must not have let my exhaustion slow me down any.

When we lived in Rochester, New York, we had one car and could go for days without using it. We rode our bicycles to work; we walked to the grocery store, the bank, the post office, the doctor, and to church. Rochester's public transportation was (and probably still is) minimal, but its buses did get us downtown, and to the dentist, and a few other places we wanted to go.

Then we moved to Florida, to a semi-suburban housing development with over 900 homes, and suddenly nothing was convenient. Soon we had not one but two cars, and everything but a visit to the near neighbors required buckling ourselves in and driving away. I lamented the lack of "natural exercise"; with a one-story house and no longer relying on my feet for transportation. most of the exercise that was just a normal part of life disappeared.

Not that this season of life was all bad; all that driving probably did a lot to help me conquer my phobia. But lately I've been RETHINKING, and have discovered that I can make a few delightful changes, right where I am. There were two major catalysts in the process: One was our trip to visit Janet in Japan, where we could see and experience walking and biking distances for which, back home, we would have jumped into the car. The other was making the decision that, at my stage of life, it is critical to my health to get much more exercise than I have been, even if it means sacrificing other worthwhile projects in order to make the time. (Actually, exercise is critical at every stage of life, but it's much harder to accomplish when you have a young family to care for.)

I began making a point of walking and/or biking every day, a procedure which generally took about an hour and a half. At first I didn't go anywhere in particular, just around certain blocks in the neighborhood, or along the bike trail that conveniently cuts through our subdivision. At some point a light dawned, however, and my vision of what was within walking or biking distance suddenly expanded greatly. As long as I was devoting 1.5 hours/day to exercise, there was suddenly little incentive to drive somewhere if I could make the round trip on foot or bike in less than that time.

What is now within easy reach? Several grocery stores, two health food stores, some pharmacies, our favorite Vietnamese/Japanese restaurant (and many others), the pool store, the library, Home Depot, Target, Wal-Mart, Sports Authority, half a dozen parks, the post office, our dentist, many smaller stores and a large mall. I've already written about taking the car in for service and biking home; one way, that ride was only 15 minutes longer than my 90-minute window.

I still need the car, sometimes even for short distances. I haven't figured out how to carry five gallons of chlorine, or a 4x8 sheet of plywood, or even a pizza on my back. My trips to the grocery store must be more frequent, because I can't carry as much as the car's trunk can. But what do the extra trips matter if I would be spending the time exercising, anyway?

My newfound freedom is less accessible to those who have small children, large families, or live where to bike or walk to work would have them arriving drenched with sweat. But it's worth RETHINKING. Employers are paying much more attention these days to employees' health, promoting fitness and offering incentives for smokers to quit. How about adding bicycle racks to the employee parking and providing shower and changing facilities? (Bike racks are ubiquitous in Japan, but here I usually have to appropriate a fence or signpost.) If more attention were paid by city planners to the safety of bicyclists, whole families might cycle to the grocery store. (Then those extra mouths to feed could help bring home their own bacon!)

What chiefly needs RETHINKING, perhaps, is the association in many people's minds between non-automotive transportation and poverty, or even criminality. ("There's a man riding his bike for transportation rather than sport; he must have had his driver's license suspended.") I'm not certain I agree with those who pray for lower gas prices; perhaps our society needs this incentive to RETHINK how we get from here to there.

Just as IBM founder Thomas J. Watson promoted his THINK motto, so would I have bold RETHINK signs featured prominently in every household and office. The ability to THINK, a good and noble faculty not commonly developed nor exercised, enables one to build solid structures on an established foundation. To RETHINK, one must first examine, and possibly dismantle, the foundation itself.

RETHINKING challenges assumptions so basic that we think no more about them than a fish considers the wetness of the water in which he swims. It delves deeper into why we do what we do and considers whether or not there might be a better way. RETHINKING says with John Holt, "We ought all to keep asking ourselves, 'Where are you trying to get, and are you getting there?'" and with Grace Murray Hopper, "The most damaging phrase in the language is 'We've always done it this way.'"

RETHINKING is not rebellion, although it may sometimes lead to rebellious actions. It is emphatically not the strident, youthfull cry that the older generation has it all wrong and nothing will do but to rip up the foundations of society and start over with his own, wiser generation. For such a person, to RETHINK is to reexamine, not what his parents think is normal and right, but the values and assumptions of his peers and compatriots.

Moreover, once the process is complete, the RETHINKER may return to the old foundation, just as it was, with this crucial difference: he is now certain it is a good and solid place on which to stand and build. The goal is neither the rejection nor the justification of our assumptions, but an examination of those things that are so much a part of our nature and experience as to be nearly invisible to us.

What might need RETHINKING? Almost anything, and nearly everything. Here are a few suggestions upon which I hope to expand eventually.

• School/Education What is the purpose of school: education? civilization? child care? Do our schools accomplish this purpose? What do we mean by education? What do we want for our children? For other people's children? What does an educated person look like?


• Medical Care What is health? What do we expect from our doctors? What do they expect from us? What kind of health insurance actually promotes health? When is it more dangerous to go to a hospital than to stay away? Whence the sudden appearance of new threats to our children, such as severe peanut allergies? Would we be healthier if we spent more time looking at what goes right than what goes wrong?


• Transportation Are there workable alternatives that will alleviate the problems of crowded highways, pollution, lack of parking space, and high fuel prices? Is it realistic to break out of the one man – one car model we've grown up with? What assumptions about how to get there from here can be challenged?


• Marriage With all the fuss about who can get married to whom, perhaps it's time to do some serious (re)thinking about just what is the purpose of marriage. Being able to obtain certain advantages bestowed by the government? Formalizing a companionship? Access to sexual privileges? Providing a stable home for children?


• Childbirth What were the circumstances under which your grandmother was born? Your mother? You? Your children? If you are like me, they're vastly different. Is one all bad, and another all good, or can we learn from them all? What does an ideal childbirth look like?

There's nothing like a little foreign travel to open your eyes, and while we were in Japan my eyes discovered xylitol, which appeared to be a popular sweetener. Normally I wouldn't have given it two seconds worth of attention, as I loathe artificial sweeteners. I make an exception for chewing gum, but otherwise strive to avoid all versions of Saccharine, NutraSweet, Splenda, etc. and get really annoyed when they're included in a product without their presence being announced in big, obvious letters.

But xylitol was something popular in Japan and not here, so I did a little investigating. What I've found makes me astonished that it's not widely available, and very popular, in this country. I'm still looking for the down side, so maybe someone who reads this can fill me in. Here's what I've learned so far:

Xylitol is a sugar alcohol (rather than a sugar), present naturally in the human body, and found in a surprising variety of plant materials, including raspberries, mushrooms, and cauliflower. The most commercially useful sources are corn cobs and birch wood. (Xylitol is also called "birch sugar.")

It looks and tastes much like sugar, and can be used one-for-one in most applications. (Yeast breads are a notable exception; see below.)

It is already approved and considered safe in any quantity for diabetic foods, and is a commonly-used sweetener in many other countries, from Finland to China.

The most well documented benefit of xylitol is its ability to prevent—and possibly even repair—tooth decay. As I understand it, there are several different mechanisms by which it does this. It increases salivation (as does sugar, but that's not enough to overcome the harm sugar does); it starves the bacteria primarily responsible for tooth decay because they cannot metabolize xylitol; it helps prevent plaque from sticking to teeth; and it promotes remineralization of tooth enamel.

Other studies indicate that xylitol inhibits the growth of bacteria that often cause ear infections in children.

In addition to its anti-bacterial properties, xylitol inhibits the growth of yeast, which is good news for sufferers of candidiasis, and bad news for bread bakers.

All this antibacterial and anti-yeast action made me concerned about the effect of xylitol on the "good guys," the helpful inhabitants of our intestinal ecosystem. I have found little that addresses this question, but what I did find inticates that xylitol actually has a prebiotic effect and promotes rather than inhibits the growth of beneficial intestinal flora!

Animal studies indicate xylitol may fight osteoporosis by increasing bone density.

Xylitol has a low gylcemic index, and does not cause a rapid rise in blood sugar and resultant insulin response.

Xylitol is not a calorie free sweetener, but has about 40% fewer calories than sugar.

The only side effect I've been able to find is a temporary laxative effect in people who consume large amounts without giving their body time to adjust by increasing production of the enzymes used in the digestion of xylitol.

Now for a bit of personal experience. One advantage of being past the childbearing years is that one feels freer to experiment a bit. Xylitol is not easy to find in this country. A few brands of chewing gum contain some xylitol -- though for the positive dental effects it really needs to be the primary sweetener in gum. The "sugar" section of our grocery stores offer an amazing variety of real and artificial sweeteners, but no xylitol. But on the way home I stopped in to our local health food store and found a one-pound bag, which I promptly bought. The cost was $7, so it's not going to replace sugar in great quantities any time soon. (I subsequently found a five-pound bag for $22.)

So far, I think xylitol is great! I haven't used it in baking yet, but I've found it works well in yogurt and when I want to add a little more sweetness to fruit puree. Mostly I've just used it in small amounts (1/2 - 1 teaspoon) to swish around in my mouth after eating (and after rinsing my mouth with water). I must say it's weird because it tastes as if I'm coating my teeth with sugar -- and that can't be good, right? I don't know if I'll ever be able to attest to any anticariotic effects, since my teeth are at the stage where my greatest problem is the demise of ancient fillings. But I have noticed one thing. For many years my gums have been more red than pink, which alarms dental hygienists but which dentists, having been unable to determine a cause, and having ruled out all the bad possibilties they know, have chosen not to fret over. Suddenly, after two weeks of xylitol use, my gums are pink!

So -- I throw the subject open for discussion. What do you know about xylitol? Are there bad side effects I haven't been able to discern? Why is it so uncommon in the United States?

If you want to investigate for yourself, xylitol.org isn't a bad place to start.

I like to check out Google News every morning, and I'm especially interested in their Health section. Today there were two headlines that caught my attention, and each turned out to be totally misleading.

Flying does not cause blood clots, say experts

Do you feel safer now, as you prepare for your long flight? Do you think you can relax, forget about periodically wiggling your toes, stretching your feet, and disturbing your seatmates so you can get up and walk around? Not so fast! What the article says is that low cabin pressure and reduced oxygen do not increase the risk of blood clots. The damage is done by reduced circulation caused by long periods of inactivity, whether on plane, train, bus, or car. Although the article does not address this issue, I'm guessing sitting at a desk all day isn't a good situation, either.

Considering the relative leg room offered by the other modes of transportation, it's not surprising that the problem appears more often among those who fly. To give the casual reader the impression that he's safe from bloodclots on a long flight is misleading and dangerous.

Nonsmoking Men, Women Face Same Lung Cancer Death Risk

What Ericcsson concludes is that talent is overrated; what really makes the difference for success—in any field, from art to sport, from finances to computer programming—is hard work and deliberate practice. Here are some quotes to whet your appetite (and maybe make it worth your while to go to the effort of getting to the article):

Freakonomics: A Rogue Economist Explores the Hidden side of Everything, by Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner (William Morrow, New York, 2005)

Economist Steven D. Levitt enjoys standing a problem on its head to see what might shake out of its pockets; Freakonomics is an exhibit of his garnered treasures. Levitt takes on anything that piques his interest: from how to detect teachers who cheat on their students' exams to how legalized abortion affected crime rates, from what really broke up the Ku Klux Klan to the financial workings of inner city gangs, from why a swimming pool is more dangerous than a gun to parenting skills and naming trends.

Freakonomics is both fascinating and frustrating. Levitt asks very important questions, offers evidence that "conventional wisdom" is often anything but wise, and perhaps does his greatest service in encouraging people to rethink their unquestioned assumptions.

However, when he deals with subjects in which I have more than the usual knowledge and experience, such as parenting and education, I can see holes big enough to send an elephant stampede through. For example, he considers various factors that might or might not affect how well a child does in school (as measured by standardized test scores), and concludes that a mother's employment outside of the home during his preschool years makes no difference at all. But without taking into consideration what the "at home" mother did during those years -- did she spend a lot of time with her child? did she take him with her, talk with him, teach him? did she plop him in front of Sesame Street while she talked on the phone? was he kept in a playpen while she watched soap operas? was he watched by a nanny while she played tennis? -- the statistics he used are pretty much meaningless. Similarly, in concluding that regularly taking your child to museums has equally little affect on his school performance, he neglects to consider the difference between a child who interacts with his parents as they traverse the science museum and one who runs from one exhibit to the next, pressing buttons willy-nilly but never staying long enough in one place to learn whatever the pressed button might have had to convey. Or between parents who prepare a child for a visit to an art museum and those who simply drag him from one picture to the next until they can no longer put up with his bored misbehavior.

Despite occasional problems with the conclusions, Freakonomics is a good exercise in applying the tools of economics to thinking differently about what "everybody knows." You can find out more at the Freakonomics website.

Last time we took the Venture to our favorite mechanic, we asked about a slight shimmy, and were told that everything was okay, but if it got worse we should probably have a wheel alignment done. It has now reached the point where it is "worse" enough, so today we took it to a nearby tire store / garage and asked them to look at it. (Bllue Book doesn't do wheel alignments.)

When they called to tell us it needed two new tie rods, an alignment, and a new tire, I was floored and took the easy way out: I turned the phone over to Porter. He politely told them thank you but we couldn't have the work done today and would be in to retrieve the car. If the tire really needs replacing, we need to look into the warranty situation first, and any tie rod work we want to have done at Blue Book. Particularly since they had replaced a tie rod end last April, and had not that long ago given the car a clean bill of health. In any case, we think it calls for a second opinion.

But that's not my real quarrel with the local place; I'll reserve judgement until after we get that second opinion. What flabbergasted me was the reaction of the mechanic, who kept telling Porter, "But you don't have to pay anything now"! It reminded me of the time Janet was at an outpatient clinic, trying to decide whether or not to get an x-ray there. She tried many times to find out how much the procedure would cost, and I don't think she ever received an answer. She couldn't find anyone who would admit to knowing what the charge would be. Yet even that was less absurd than those who puzzled, "Why do you want to know? You don't have to pay anything now; we'll bill you and you can pay it later."

Pardon me, but—huh? The cost of something doesn't matter if you don't have to fork over the cash this instant? If economics classes are still required in high school, they're not doing much good. And—double huh? The only reason one might do or not do something, be it medical or automotive, is its dollar cost? Even economists, who are accustomed to measuring the strangest things in terms of their dollar value, would choke on that attitude. At least my economist did.

Any extravagance around the time of a birthday counts as part of the celebration, and thus comes without guilt. Thus when Porter wanted to attend the Mad Cow Theatre Company's It Was a Very Good Year, part of the Orlando Cabaret Festival, and even suggested we get the special dinner package, who was I to complain?

Enter into a Time Machine as you walk thru the doors of Club Moo, Mad Cow Theatre's intimate nightclub room. Grab a chair at your table as you sip a cool drink and enjoy...a celebration of one year in the life of America: the news, the lifestyles, the gossip, and most important—the music.

The package including the show, dinner, parking, and a glass of wine to take into the theater. Porter had chosen the year 1925 (other options were 1935, 1945, and 1955), and as we relaxed at our excellently-situated table I thought (as any genealogist would) about relatives who were alive in 1925. I tried to imagine myself as them, until I realized how extremely unlikely it would have been for any of my grandparents to be sitting in a cabaret drinking a glass of wine. So I just enjoyed the show. I'm sure they would have known the music, anyway. The cast comprised four singers and a pianist, and the show was simply some of the songs popular in 1925, held together by a minimal story line. The music was well done, and we were relieved that the era was presented straight, with no looking-back-from-the-future, mocking humor. My knowledge of the popular songs of any era is abysmal, but found I knew about half of these.

• I'm Sitting on Top of the World (Joe Young & Ray Henderson / Sam M. Lewis)
• Five Foot Two, Eyes of Blue (Joe Young & Ray Henderson / Sam M. Lewis)
• Looking for a Boy (George & Ira Gershwin)
• Oh! Lady Be Good (George & Ira Gershwin)
• It Had to Be You (Gus Kahn & Isham Jones)
• Tea for Two (Irving Caesar / Vincent Youmans)
• Everybody Loves My Baby / Yes Sir! That's My Baby! (Jack Palmer/Spence Williams, Gus Kahn/Walter Donaldson)
• Always (Irving Berlin)
• Charleston (Cecil Mack & James P. Johnson
• Sweet Georgia Brown (Ben Bernie / Maceo Pinkard & Ken Casey)
• Clap Hands! Here Comes Charley! (Joseph Meyer / Billy Rose & Ballard MacDonald)
• Sweet and Low-down (George & Ira Gershwin)
• Shake That Thing (Papa Charlie Jackson)
• Keep Your Skirts Down, Mary ann (Robert King & Ray Henderson / Andrew B. Sterling)
• I Never Knew (Gus Kahn / Ted Fio Rito)
• Who (Hammerstein & Kern)
• Manhattan (Rodgers & Hart)
• Save Your Sorrow for Tomorrow (Al Sherman / B. G. De Sylva)

We had some time between the end of the show and our 5:30 dinner reservations, which we spent in the library. Porter found a book to check out, and I spent my time in the genealogy section, where I found Gary Boyd Roberts' The Royal Descents of 600 Immigrants. (Gary was the New England Historic Genealogical Society librarian who helped me get started on my research.) I didn't get very far in the book before we had to leave, but I did find that Robert Abell (a 9^th great grandfather on my mother's side) is the 11^th great grandson of Edward I, King of England (1239-1307). This is "Longshanks," who had William Wallace executed, and though Braveheart depicts him inaccurately and unfairly, he was nasty enough. You can't go very far in genealogy without running into both heros and villains, often in the same person, which is why I take as my genealogical motto Aslan's words in C. S. Lewis' Prince Caspian: You come of the Lord Adam and the Lady Eve, and that is both honor enough to erect the head of the poorest beggar, and shame enough to bow the shoulders of the greatest emperor in earth.

Dinner at the nearby Napasorn Thai restaurant was wonderful. Because it was part of the package, we had to choose form a smaller menu, but that was no hardship. The spring rolls and gyoza we had for appetizers were perfect, and our dinners of pad Thai and panang curry were nearly as good. Next time we'll save money by making our own package—but this was definitely worth the cost because otherwise we'd never have discovered Napasorn. It also really felt like a date, because Porter made all the arrangements, and that was heavenly.

The adventure began when I noticed that our lovely little Geo's air conditioning was a little peaked. I mean, it worked great when I didn't really need it, but summer has come to Central Florida and the A/C just wasn't keeping up the way it used to. This meant a trip to Blue Book was in order. Our favorite mechanic (and used car dealership) is over 12 miles away, but worth the trip. Usually we do what everyone else does: drive the car up and get a ride home. This time I decided to ride my bike home.

Our local bike trail gets me easily between home and Lake Mary Blvd.; the question was, how much sidewalk could I count on between there and Blue Book? (Technically, bicycles belong on the road, not the sidewalk. But if you've ever seen the roads around here you'll know why I say I prefer paying a fine to paying a hospital bill. Not that I've been fined yet, but it's a possiblity.) Yesterday I took a drive and learned the answer to my question: Trail and sidewalk are available for all but a very small portion, but that small gap might as well have been a chasm.

Central Florida is not ready for bicycle and pedestrian traffic. In places we're trying: we have a number of very nice trails along and connecting former rail beds, there are sidewalks in many places, and some new road construction includes a bike lane. The trouble is that key connections are missing. The above-mentioned chasm is also known as Interstate 4. Lake Mary Blvd. crosses I-4, but there is no provision for pedestrian traffic; the sidewalks just end. In theory I could have ridden across, as there is a wide shoulder in most places, but it's pretty scary, and you have to cross three entrance/exit ramps, including one with four lanes of heavy traffic—and of course no walk light.

Clearly, I needed a Plan B. I tried out several alternate routes, each of which started out promising but petered out into long stretches of no sidewalk and roads too busy for comfortable biking. This is not Japan, where drivers are accustomed to sharing the road with bicyclists—though at least we have no concrete irrigation ditches to worry about. Finally I decided to take a detour that added about three miles to the trip, but allowed me to cross I-4 on a pedestrian/bike bridge that is part of the trail.

Last night I put the bike rack on the back of the car, put the bike on the rack, and took a brief test drive to make sure I'd put it on securely. This morning I packed my provisions (making sure I had plenty of water), slathered on sunscreen (which I hate to do, but I wasn't sure how much of the trip would be without benefit of shade), and headed out.

Once at Blue Book, Jim helped me get the bike off the rack and the rack in the car; I handed him the keys, donned my helmet and biking gloves, and was off.

I don't regret all the preparations. Of course I spent more gas planning my route than I saved by biking, but that's a one-time expense. Having some emergency provisions (like water and money) and using sunscreen weren't bad ideas. You never know when something might happen to disrupt your plans. But really, the trip was wonderful! I had been thinking of it as a major journey, a big deal, because it was (for me) in uncharted territory and a long distance. The odometer on my bike is broken, but the trip was about 16 miles. That seemed long to me, but then I realized I was only traveling one way! Since our regular Saturday bike ride is eight miles out and back, 16 miles should not have been anything to think twice about.

There were two areas along the way where the sidewalk was closed due to construction, but both were easily circumvented. One thing I enjoyed seeing was a place where a section of the trail itself was closed because of nearby construction work, and they had paved a temporary detour for the pedestrians/bicyclists, just as they do on roads for cars.