The life of a travelling businessman is not easy, but rain brings rainbows, at least if you look from a favorable angle. My recent trip to Phoenix was such a rainbow. You'd think that an introvert like me would not be eager to leave home so soon after having been away for a month, but this was the time that was available—and it turned out to be perfect.
Fly Southwest airlines in the middle of the week, and you can get away with forgetting to print your boarding pass until four hours after check-in opens, as I did once and still got a boarding slot in the A-30's. Fridays, however, are filled with savvy businessmen anxious to return home; Porter still snagged an A-30's number for me, but had to check in during the first couple of minutes to do so. Due to his many flights on Southwest, his own A-list number is guaranteed. Southwest is currently my favorite airline, they having so far been able to resist charging for normal luggage, drinks, and snacks. Little things, I know, but their value in generating positive feelings toward the airline is disproportionate to the cost, at least in my case. Conversely, I feel a lot worse about USAirways than their extra charges would actually merit. (More)While waiting at the computer, and feeling a little nostalgic for Basel, I found this, which I post for those who wish to see a bit of where they will be in a few months. Be sure to show Jonathan the Hammering Man. If I don't look at the feet I can imagine the runner is Janet. :)
Last Saturday we returned to the Van Fleet Trail and rode the second third, from the Bay Lake Trailhead to the Green Pond Road Trailhead, another round trip of about 20 miles.
As we were riding on the straight, flat, paved trail in the middle of nowhere, no motor vehicles to worry about and almost no other bicyclists, I laughed a little at our habit of wearing bike helmets. When we began the practice, wearing a helmet was awkward and several times we forgot to put them on; now it's nearly as automatic as buckling our seatbelts in the car. But a trail like this is safer than just pedaling down our very safe, isolated, residential street.
Or so we thought. (More)We ventured further last weekend, driving to Clermont and the General James. A. Van Fleet State Trail. Porter was all for doing the whole 30 miles from one end to the other, but I voted for going in stages. This time we biked about a third of the way, 19+ miles, from the Mabel Trailhead to the Bay Lake Trailhead and back.
The Van Fleet Trail is straight and flat, and apparently popular with those who want to race and time their biking, so it is well marked in miles and tenths, much more reliably than any other trail we've been on. Thus I was able to check the calibration of my odometer, and was pleased that it appears to be off by less than half a percent.
This is one of Florida's most rural trails, and thus a pleasant ride. We were not there at the best time of day to see wildlife, but the sights did get better after the dead rat in the parking lot. A rabbit bounded across the trail in front of us, we saw a few tortoises, and heard innumerable birds.We were exhausted after our return from Switzerland, and our trip was a lot shorter and easier than Janet's will be, so I'm sure she'll appreciate your prayers. She has four flights, ground transportation between two airports in New York, long wait times, and about 24 hours of travel—if all goes well—to look forward to. Good thing she's younger than we are. :)
It sure will be good to see her!Yesterday we thought we'd do a few short stretches of trail to cover the northernmost portions of the Cross-Seminole Trail and the Seminole Wekiva Trail. We thought it would be shorter than it turned out to be, and before we were done I was regretting not having been more generous with the sunblock, but we managed to avoid sunburn anyway, despite the unshaded nature of much of our ride.
We parked at St. Peter's Church, which is located adjacent to the trail and provides a convenient rest area with tables, bike parking, and potable water for weary travellers (a generous interpretation of Matthew 10:42). We headed north briefly, soon coming to the end of the line and turning around through a cemetery. (More)Tropical Storm Barry brought us a night's worth of good, soaking rain, our first significant rain in many months and much needed. The forecast was for rain all Saturday, too, but the radar looked reasonably clear in the morning so we paid another visit to Leu Gardens.
The effect of just one night's rain was amazing. Already the plants had lifted their hearts to heaven, puttin out new growth and blossoms. Except for a wedding party, I think most people were kept away by the forecast, because we had our own private garden for most of the time. (More)Before I write about today's bike ride, I have to clear the backlog and tell you about last weekend's.
The Cross Seminole Trail is not yet complete, and voters defeated the minuscule property tax increase that would have paid to purchase environmentally sensitive lands and built recreational trails, so we're not waiting for its completion to do what we can. (More)Two weeks ago, after our exhausting off-road biking adventure, we paid a visit to Fort Christmas. We went there several times when the girls were young, on our own and for Indian Princess outings. But that was a long time ago. The girls have grown a lot since then, and so has the fort.
They now have a large collection of old Florida houses, and we enjoyed a trip back in time as we wandered from one to another. Bear in mind that Florida is a young state, even if it does have our country's oldest city. Sometimes it seems more like the Wild West than the East Coast. (More)
Porter put the bikes on the back of the car again this morning, and we headed off to the Tosohatchee State Reserve near Christmas. That's Christmas, Florida—we're still much nearer Memorial Day than Christmas.
We knew this would be a different kind of ride. We knew it would be on unpaved trails through a wilderness area, and we thought we were prepared. We had sunscreen and bug repellent, emergency bike kit (tube, CO2 cartridge for inflating same, patches, wrench, and those little thingies for helping you put the tire back on the rim), water to drink, and cell phones. Knowing we'd be in a game preserve, we also had a monocular and a camera. We had a change of clothes and a picnic lunch waiting in the car for our return.
"Unpaved trails." I was expecting something like the crushed-shell-and-sand trail at our local park. Silly me. (More)
This post is going to be about our Sunday bike ride, but I have to admit that coffee hour is also a favorite after-church activity, especially on the Sundays when our friend K. is in charge of the food, for she always brings (among other goodies) her famous sausage rolls and infamous monkey bread. Everyone knows to get over to the parish hall pronto after the service when it's K.'s Sunday, because those items disappear fast. Not exactly a healthy breakfast, but a wonderful Sunday treat.
And we followed it by a 21-mile, two-hour calorie burning spree. (More)I've given up my search for an organic farmers' market; around here I should be happy with a farmers' market of any kind. So today we decided to check out the Winter Park Farmers' Market.
It's worth returning; it's our own little Marktplatz, with food and flowers in addition to produce. We arrived not far from closing time, so much of the produce was gone, but we did pick up some delicious Georgia peaches. I also bought a pain au chocolat from a French pastry booth, because the vendors were actually speaking French and because the last time I had a pain au chocolat I was eating breakfast with a fairy princess at her château in France. It wasn't quite as good—a little less fresh, a lot less enchanting—but delicious nonetheless. Yes, I shared it with Porter. (More)Biking after church could get to be a habit. A good one. Last Sunday we returned to the West Orange Trail, this time heading east. (You may recall that the Sunday before we had gone westward.) We made a late start, having become involved in a good conversation at church. But it didn't matter—we'd already decided that a little sunscreen would be in order.
We biked nearly 20 miles, round trip, saving the remainder of that leg of the trail for another time. In general this direction was not as pleasant as the previous week's trip—it took a while to get out of the industrial area and into the shade. But all trails are interesting if they're new to you, so it was a great ride. Along the way we discovered something else new: the Clarcona Horseman's Park, and we stopped long enough to watch some young girls and their horses being judged in a show. What was especially interesting to me was the names of the various gaits. The riders were asked to walk, jog, and lope their horses. Back when I was a horse-crazy young girl, I knew of four gaits; walk, trot, canter, and gallop. When did they change?
And something else has changed. At the risk of sex stereotyping here, it seems that the horse-craze is mostly a female phenomenon; the male equivalent, perhaps, is cars. But what happened before automobiles? I think it was the men and boys who were entranced by all things equine. I wonder why the switch? Perhaps men are just interested in going places, and like best whatever is the fastest means of transport they can reasonably expect to get their hands on. End of gender-biased rambling.Now I must report on my first dissatisfaction with the Swiss transportation system. The bus we rode from the airport could not take us back there, because it disappeared overnight! Fortunately, observant Janet had noticed that the sign was conspicuously missing from the stop. At first we assumed this was just another of the BaselWorld alterations to the city, but she did some investigating and discovered that that particular run was not popular/profitable enough, so off with its head! This turned out not to be much of a problem, however, as we were able to take a tram to Basel SBB, the main train station, where we could catch another bus to the airport.
Janet generously accompanied us all the way to the airport, and even waited with us until it was time to catch the last bus that would take her to church on time. Then we reluctantly said our goodbyes, with heartfelt gratitude. I do believe being a tour guide takes more out of Janet than performing in front of an audience of a thousand, but she does a great job of it! (More)
A day of rest, recovery, last-minute shopping, and…packing. None of us wanted to think about the next day's departure; we weren't ready to part; and yet each of us was looking forward to getting back to "normal." It was a fantastic vacation, but life is not, should not be, and cannot be, all vacation. The pleasures and projects of "ordinary life" are the attractions that make the end of such a lovely time bearable. (More)
