My readers may or may not remember that I biked out of Birmingham back in 2010. While it was comparatively tricky, at the time, I thought the lad in Great Whitley was overly impressed at my feat. I was reading about the kerfuffle about some hack at Fox News labelling Birmingham a Muslim-only city when I noticed that the BBC was describing the city as Britain's second largest city. This took me by surprise as I would have said that honour would likely be Glasgow or Manchester before Birmingham had someone asked me.
Thankfully, no one did. (I have a reputation for being knowledgeable that I would like to keep up.)
However, it is a bit embarrassing that I had no idea just how big Birmingham is until so long the exploit. Then again, if I had known, I might not have tried! It is worth noting that on my 2013 trip, I avoided Birmingham by getting off the train in Wolverhampton.
Monday, 12 January 2015
Thursday, 25 December 2014
On nieces and nephews, aunts and uncles
I am sitting by the fire, in the midst of the afternoon's lull, sampling the Glen Scotia single malt Stephen gave me as Edward plays with his Chima Lego in the background.
Unusually, I haven't been given a single bike related present. Then again, I didn't put one on my piggy list, to use the Margaret-ism the family has adopted. However, I made up for this by giving bike bells to Edward and Margaret as well as a bike computer to the latter.
Désirée and Edward are the only niece and nephew on hand what with Alice not coming this year on the sensible grounds that Anna, Maria and Kerry are too much to bring for the short window she and Mark would be able to squeeze away from work. My step-niece Eowyn will be here for supper along with Dan her boyfriend. I am looking forward to my "creative" interpretation of her mother's request that presents be "local". I have bought her a copy of the movie "Brick Mansions" much of which were shot within a few blocks of my flat. As well, Jacques, one my downstairs neighbours, was one of the cameramen. I had him autograph the DVD. You can't much more local than that can you? ;-)
In less happy news, my aunt Izzy and uncle John are being moved into care due various ailments, she for physical issues and he for cerebral ones, though I wonder if she doesn't have some mild mental health issues as well, probably from the stress of trying to look after John. My cousin Elly has worn herself out trying to get them looked after. Her finest achievement thus far has been getting them into the same care facility for Christmas, thereby continuing their fifty Christmases together in a row!
I am sad to hear them so reduced as I love them, warts and all, especially as they so love each other. I am half tempted to can my proposed bike trip to Puerto Rico in March, in favour of a flying visit to see them.
Hmm, I should try to phone Elly over the hols.
Update:
I phoned Elly later on Christmas and listened to her travails and tales of woe. Poor her.
Eowyn arrived with Dan, her boyfriend and they were both taken with "Brick Mansions" even before I told them about the "local" connection. Dan seemed very nice though he described Glen Scotia as "du fort" thereby lumping it in with all other distilled spirits from lowliest vodka to the finest single malt. The family will have to educate him in whisk(e)y appreciation as on Boxing Day, I found out that he proposed to Eowyn late on Christmas Night! She accepted.
Unusually, I haven't been given a single bike related present. Then again, I didn't put one on my piggy list, to use the Margaret-ism the family has adopted. However, I made up for this by giving bike bells to Edward and Margaret as well as a bike computer to the latter.
Désirée and Edward are the only niece and nephew on hand what with Alice not coming this year on the sensible grounds that Anna, Maria and Kerry are too much to bring for the short window she and Mark would be able to squeeze away from work. My step-niece Eowyn will be here for supper along with Dan her boyfriend. I am looking forward to my "creative" interpretation of her mother's request that presents be "local". I have bought her a copy of the movie "Brick Mansions" much of which were shot within a few blocks of my flat. As well, Jacques, one my downstairs neighbours, was one of the cameramen. I had him autograph the DVD. You can't much more local than that can you? ;-)
In less happy news, my aunt Izzy and uncle John are being moved into care due various ailments, she for physical issues and he for cerebral ones, though I wonder if she doesn't have some mild mental health issues as well, probably from the stress of trying to look after John. My cousin Elly has worn herself out trying to get them looked after. Her finest achievement thus far has been getting them into the same care facility for Christmas, thereby continuing their fifty Christmases together in a row!
I am sad to hear them so reduced as I love them, warts and all, especially as they so love each other. I am half tempted to can my proposed bike trip to Puerto Rico in March, in favour of a flying visit to see them.
Hmm, I should try to phone Elly over the hols.
Update:
I phoned Elly later on Christmas and listened to her travails and tales of woe. Poor her.
Eowyn arrived with Dan, her boyfriend and they were both taken with "Brick Mansions" even before I told them about the "local" connection. Dan seemed very nice though he described Glen Scotia as "du fort" thereby lumping it in with all other distilled spirits from lowliest vodka to the finest single malt. The family will have to educate him in whisk(e)y appreciation as on Boxing Day, I found out that he proposed to Eowyn late on Christmas Night! She accepted.
Sunday, 9 November 2014
On some interesting bike safety articles from the BBC website
I was perusing the BBC's website this morning when I came across a couple of interesting articles about issues surrounding bicycle safety in the UK. I would like to share them with you so please follow this link and that link. I was a bit disappointed by the second one as during the bit about headphones, it failed to point out that cars have to have mirrors whereas they are rare on bikes and therefore accoustic awareness of the envivronment is more important to cyclists than drivers.
Friday, 26 September 2014
On the roads to and around Kelowna
The Okanagan Valley has a complex geological history that I am going to ignore in this entry. The upshot is that it has steep sides and flat terraces that are somewhat frustrating to the average cyclist as Highway 97 goes up and down a fair bit between Penticton and Kelowna which is quite provoking as they are at the same altitude in the same valley! However all fairness, the 97 does try to make the rises and falls as long as possible so you can stay in the same mode for sustained periods. (This later had a downside.)
As the distance was shortish, I allowed myself to stop fairly frequently along the way at things such as historical markers and fruit stands. After lunch in West Kelowna, I went screaming down towards the Bridge to Kelowna passing some construction by the side of the road which distracted me long enough that I saw the sign for the bike route across the Bridge too late and it was only after the sign forbidding bikes on the road proper had passed that I could bring Leonardo to a halt, just as an RCMP patrol car went by and then braked. It didn't stop or turn on its "cherry blinkers", but suspecting I had been spotted, decided to lift Leonardo over the concrete divider to where I should have been rather than go back up and around. While I did so, I practiced my defense in case the Law did come around! ;-)
Anyway, I made my way across the bridge and to Rebecca and Paul's house. After supper, Paul told me about some of his childhood train trips. It turns out that his grandfather had been a VP at Union Pacific and had the use of their private cars. Naturally, he used it to entertain his grand kids. He also used his connections to insure that when Paul and his brother got beyond first class treatment when they traveled on Amtrak! At this, a light went on above my head. Paul's grandfather's position explained the "Union Pacific" decor in the bedroom I was assigned!
Rebecca was working from home this morning, so she was around to give me a local's perspective on which of Kelowna's many wineries were the best bets. After some discussion, I headed off for a day wine tasting. The first three were low key and landed me some interesting wines (thankfully there is no duty on alcohol within Canada) but the fourth, Summerhill Pyramid, got on my nerves with its holier-than-thou organic this and permaculture that. It was also more commercial and much more crowded than the others.
As I rode towards the downtown area the primary schools began to let out. I was joined on the road by a surprisingly and pleasantly large number of kids on bikes. What I found particularly interesting was that at a glance, many of them seemed to be "good bikes" (including road bikes) not just the big box store bikes I tend to see kids riding in Montreal. Furthermore, they knew the rules of the road!
Shortly before I got downtown, I stopped to consult my maps to figure out how best to get to my next destination. A man whose age I would put anywhere within ten years of seventy asked me if was lost.
"No, I know where I am. I am just trying figure out where to go next."
"Go to Mount [something], that's my favourite ride!"
I laughed. I rather like the attitude of this town!
A couple distilleries later, I am back at Rebecca's, soon to dine. It's been a good holiday. Back to Montreal tomorrow.
As the distance was shortish, I allowed myself to stop fairly frequently along the way at things such as historical markers and fruit stands. After lunch in West Kelowna, I went screaming down towards the Bridge to Kelowna passing some construction by the side of the road which distracted me long enough that I saw the sign for the bike route across the Bridge too late and it was only after the sign forbidding bikes on the road proper had passed that I could bring Leonardo to a halt, just as an RCMP patrol car went by and then braked. It didn't stop or turn on its "cherry blinkers", but suspecting I had been spotted, decided to lift Leonardo over the concrete divider to where I should have been rather than go back up and around. While I did so, I practiced my defense in case the Law did come around! ;-)
Anyway, I made my way across the bridge and to Rebecca and Paul's house. After supper, Paul told me about some of his childhood train trips. It turns out that his grandfather had been a VP at Union Pacific and had the use of their private cars. Naturally, he used it to entertain his grand kids. He also used his connections to insure that when Paul and his brother got beyond first class treatment when they traveled on Amtrak! At this, a light went on above my head. Paul's grandfather's position explained the "Union Pacific" decor in the bedroom I was assigned!
Rebecca was working from home this morning, so she was around to give me a local's perspective on which of Kelowna's many wineries were the best bets. After some discussion, I headed off for a day wine tasting. The first three were low key and landed me some interesting wines (thankfully there is no duty on alcohol within Canada) but the fourth, Summerhill Pyramid, got on my nerves with its holier-than-thou organic this and permaculture that. It was also more commercial and much more crowded than the others.
As I rode towards the downtown area the primary schools began to let out. I was joined on the road by a surprisingly and pleasantly large number of kids on bikes. What I found particularly interesting was that at a glance, many of them seemed to be "good bikes" (including road bikes) not just the big box store bikes I tend to see kids riding in Montreal. Furthermore, they knew the rules of the road!
Shortly before I got downtown, I stopped to consult my maps to figure out how best to get to my next destination. A man whose age I would put anywhere within ten years of seventy asked me if was lost.
"No, I know where I am. I am just trying figure out where to go next."
"Go to Mount [something], that's my favourite ride!"
I laughed. I rather like the attitude of this town!
A couple distilleries later, I am back at Rebecca's, soon to dine. It's been a good holiday. Back to Montreal tomorrow.
On my day in Penticton
Penticton doesn't get much rain. Somewhere I read that it is part of the Sonoran Desert region which goes all the way down to Mexico which alternately plausible or risible depending on how you look at it. I probably need to check my facts, but that can wait as the Okanagan is definitely a dry zone.
This fact was proven to me by the display of chain lubricants at my favorite bike store in Penticton, Freedom the Bike Shop. They had an assortment of Finish Line products but didn't carry my default lubricant Finish Line Wet. I commented on this to the staff as I waited for them to check Leonardo's rear tire. They said there wasn't much call for it. Probably true.
Why do I mention this? Well, I was there on a relatively rare, wet, rainy day with plenty of wind. It didn't rain all day but enough to make my visit atypically damp. I spent the morning looking after my steed including getting spare inner tubes and washing my clothes in the hostel's washer-dryer.
In the afternoon, I bummed around, seeing the sights and observing the contrasts of the town. Pentiction has an odd mix of tourists, seasonal labour (needed for the fruit industry), alternative culture members and bums. Some people fall into multiple categories. I shared a hostel room with a dread-locked German who had just finished a four day hike and was discussing about where he would be picking apples the next day with an older American man who sounded knowledgeable about the industry!
The clouds were low and somewhat menacing. As the forecast was for more of the same the next day, I determined that I would take the easy way to Kelowna, e.g. Highway 97. This also allowed me to indulge in a bit of shopping in a used book store that I would have done otherwise.
This fact was proven to me by the display of chain lubricants at my favorite bike store in Penticton, Freedom the Bike Shop. They had an assortment of Finish Line products but didn't carry my default lubricant Finish Line Wet. I commented on this to the staff as I waited for them to check Leonardo's rear tire. They said there wasn't much call for it. Probably true.
Why do I mention this? Well, I was there on a relatively rare, wet, rainy day with plenty of wind. It didn't rain all day but enough to make my visit atypically damp. I spent the morning looking after my steed including getting spare inner tubes and washing my clothes in the hostel's washer-dryer.
In the afternoon, I bummed around, seeing the sights and observing the contrasts of the town. Pentiction has an odd mix of tourists, seasonal labour (needed for the fruit industry), alternative culture members and bums. Some people fall into multiple categories. I shared a hostel room with a dread-locked German who had just finished a four day hike and was discussing about where he would be picking apples the next day with an older American man who sounded knowledgeable about the industry!
The clouds were low and somewhat menacing. As the forecast was for more of the same the next day, I determined that I would take the easy way to Kelowna, e.g. Highway 97. This also allowed me to indulge in a bit of shopping in a used book store that I would have done otherwise.
Wednesday, 24 September 2014
On how I got to Penticton
I opted to take the Highway to Penticton rather than the Princeton-Summerland road and/or KVR route as I had done much of it five years ago and the scenery wasn't terribly memorable. Also, that route put the hardest bits near the end of the day, the same time rain would be likely. In hindsight, I made the right decision.
Highway 3 runs down the bottom the valley of the Similkameen in wide sweeps with the canyon walls rising steeply on either side. The road ran smoothly downwards, generally with nice shoulders for biking. I could tell the route was well used by cyclists of the road racer variety, unfortunately. I used that word as they left their spoor behind, in the form of used CO2 bottles. I am not impressed.
I stopped at Hedley* for a look see of an old mine located several thousand feet up on precipitous cliff side. It made me wonder at the determination of the miners. There are tours of it in summer. Part of me would like to go back and do the tour.
I rolled on to Keremeos where I found an Indian buffet for lunch which had great nan bread. I stopped at an old grist mill but didn't go in. As I was about to leave, noticed my rear tire was flat, again! The cause was apparently a piece of glass. I went back into Keremeos in search of a replacement inner tube as I was now without a spare and my confidence in the rear tire was shot. I found a bike shop by dint of flagging down a local cyclist who showed me the way to the Sagebrush Bike Shop which was run out someone's garage. I got a Presta tube for a skinnier (up to 23mm) tire as that was all he had in the way of 700C Prestas. I then rode up Highway 3A towards Penticton as clouds gathered threateningly behind me. The climb wasn't bad and was followed by repeated and prolonged "whees" at speeds exceeding 60 kph. I alternated between taking the lane at speed and pulling aside to let larger traffic through as the shoulder wasn't very good for high speeds. From the bottom of the hill, it was a shortish and easy ride into Penticton.
* I kept revisiting the Heddy/Hedley Lamarr joke from Blazing Saddles in my head.
Highway 3 runs down the bottom the valley of the Similkameen in wide sweeps with the canyon walls rising steeply on either side. The road ran smoothly downwards, generally with nice shoulders for biking. I could tell the route was well used by cyclists of the road racer variety, unfortunately. I used that word as they left their spoor behind, in the form of used CO2 bottles. I am not impressed.
I stopped at Hedley* for a look see of an old mine located several thousand feet up on precipitous cliff side. It made me wonder at the determination of the miners. There are tours of it in summer. Part of me would like to go back and do the tour.
I rolled on to Keremeos where I found an Indian buffet for lunch which had great nan bread. I stopped at an old grist mill but didn't go in. As I was about to leave, noticed my rear tire was flat, again! The cause was apparently a piece of glass. I went back into Keremeos in search of a replacement inner tube as I was now without a spare and my confidence in the rear tire was shot. I found a bike shop by dint of flagging down a local cyclist who showed me the way to the Sagebrush Bike Shop which was run out someone's garage. I got a Presta tube for a skinnier (up to 23mm) tire as that was all he had in the way of 700C Prestas. I then rode up Highway 3A towards Penticton as clouds gathered threateningly behind me. The climb wasn't bad and was followed by repeated and prolonged "whees" at speeds exceeding 60 kph. I alternated between taking the lane at speed and pulling aside to let larger traffic through as the shoulder wasn't very good for high speeds. From the bottom of the hill, it was a shortish and easy ride into Penticton.
* I kept revisiting the Heddy/Hedley Lamarr joke from Blazing Saddles in my head.
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