Wednesday, May 14, 2008
?
Saturday, May 17, 2008
It is Saturday! No way! What happen to Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday? Lets see Wednesday was spent riding around town, picking up some last things for the trip, then sitting in a Pub checking on line. Left Salisbury on Thursday heading toward Winchester, of Winchester Cathedral fame; never made it. Some how ended up south of Winchester, almost to Southampton, on the edge of the New Forest. Spent the night on a working farm that also doubles as a caravan park; campground. While cooking my dinner my thoughts wandered around the reasons for this third trip. Find family roots in Austria and England are the reasons found, along with the possibility that there may be some deep new inner understanding of me to find.
Well O.K. that’s a reason to do this; I guess. However, there is not deep burning need to do this that matches the flame of the prior two years. Riding with cars and trucks zipping by with in a couple of feet of me my mind thinks what if something happened. How much would I miss? How much would I be missed? There are other ways to accomplish the ends with out risking live and limb. For what this is costing I could fly to Austria, take a bus to the town my grandparents grew up in. Same thing with Liverpool, however, why?
The question is why? Will that bring me any closer to my grandparents? I lived with them, they are still with me, so why? As I sit in Portsmouth I come up with no answers. I could be on a Dice trip, or a camping trip with my son, or going to S. Dakota with my Daughter, or doing nothing at all. Yeah I could be just doing nothing, depending on your definition of nothing. One of the saying we used in therapy was the doing nothing was doing something.
Anyhow, about a mile from the farm the bungee cord from my pannier gets wrapped around the gears. After about an hour its fixed and off we go, what, a flat tire. After all I had done to the bike to prevent this? Was not a flat the valve broke? No problem that’s why I dragged an extra inner tube from America with me. I unload the bike, get the wheel off, low and behold the tube I brought with me has a hole in it. I patch it, and then find another hole, what the hell?
Inquiring, at the only store on this back road, no store for 3 kilometers, which is about 2 miles. I figured I road about 40 miles yesterday, so today I walk. Up on arriving at the Lyndhurst information center I’m informed that here is no bike shop in this town. The next town over, 4 kilometers has one, oh joy. Where is the nearest campground? You’d have to go about 2 kilometers in the opposite direction, of course, it that kind of day.
Wait the annoyed Information person says, “There’s a bike rental shop around the corner why don’t you see if he can help.” Arriving at the bike rental shop the man who runs it say’s “I don’t fix flats. Here come on in lets have a look. Here you by the tube and fix it here in the shop.” With the flat fixed I am pointed toward the “campground.” This campground is also a working farm. “We have no trimmings” which means a field with an outhouse, and a water faucet on a post.
Now it’s Saturday, down the road to catch a train to make up time. I reach the station, which is unmanned. You have to go down a set of stairs to get to the track. Unloading the panniers from the bike, down the steps we go. When the bike is down and reloaded I find an information call box. After pushing the button the nice person on the other end tells me that a train will be stopping in about 10 minutes, “but your on the wrong side of the tracks.” I smile. By the time I get every thing back up the stairs the train pulls up to the station. It will be four hours before the next train stops here. I ride on.
Riding through New Forest was not on my “bucket list” yet it was interesting. Deep, dark green woods, moors of brown, birds, and horses complete with horseshit everywhere. Cars are flying down this road with horses wandering about. When passing the horses raise there heads looking at me as if to say “I’d get you there faster with a lot less effort.” Yeah but I can’t take you on the train.
Upon reaching (town) I head directly to the train station. “You going on the train with your bike? After answering in the affirmative the gentleman who asked say’s “You have to go up the stairs and over to the next platform.” “Up the stairs? I ask. “yes, I’ll help you. You take the front I’ll take the rear.” So up we go, half way. He says “I have to go take care of this train wait here.” Like I’m going to anywhere. He leaves two other people come along and up we go. It takes three people to get the bike up the stairs.
Now this train person comes back. He tells me that when he was 61 he rode all over Spain “Tuned me right up it did. The first couple of days I thought I’d die, but them up and down the hills with no problem. I had a trailer on the back of my bike, aluminum one nice and light. How long you going to be here? After I tell him he said “You could borrow it if you want. I’ll give you my number and when you get back this way you can use it for the rest of your trip.” He gives me a paper with his name and number I give him mine.
So that’s it, that pretty much what happened and what I’ve been thinking. I sitting in a pub again, to get on the internet. In the background are American oldies blaring, with some girl, who should not give up her day job, howling, like a dog at the moon, to them. Time to sleep.
?
Saturday, May 17, 2008
It is Saturday! No way! What happen to Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday? Lets see Wednesday was spent riding around town, picking up some last things for the trip, then sitting in a Pub checking on line. Left Salisbury on Thursday heading toward Winchester, of Winchester Cathedral fame; never made it. Some how ended up south of Winchester, almost to Southampton, on the edge of the New Forest. Spent the night on a working farm that also doubles as a caravan park; campground. While cooking my dinner my thoughts wandered around the reasons for this third trip. Find family roots in Austria and England are the reasons found, along with the possibility that there may be some deep new inner understanding of me to find.
Well O.K. that’s a reason to do this; I guess. However, there is not deep burning need to do this that matches the flame of the prior two years. Riding with cars and trucks zipping by with in a couple of feet of me my mind thinks what if something happened. How much would I miss? How much would I be missed? There are other ways to accomplish the ends with out risking live and limb. For what this is costing I could fly to Austria, take a bus to the town my grandparents grew up in. Same thing with Liverpool, however, why?
The question is why? Will that bring me any closer to my grandparents? I lived with them, they are still with me, so why? As I sit in Portsmouth I come up with no answers. I could be on a Dice trip, or a camping trip with my son, or going to S. Dakota with my Daughter, or doing nothing at all. Yeah I could be just doing nothing, depending on your definition of nothing. One of the saying we used in therapy was the doing nothing was doing something.
Anyhow, about a mile from the farm the bungee cord from my pannier gets wrapped around the gears. After about an hour its fixed and off we go, what, a flat tire. After all I had done to the bike to prevent this? Was not a flat the valve broke? No problem that’s why I dragged an extra inner tube from America with me. I unload the bike, get the wheel off, low and behold the tube I brought with me has a hole in it. I patch it, and then find another hole, what the hell?
Inquiring, at the only store on this back road, no store for 3 kilometers, which is about 2 miles. I figured I road about 40 miles yesterday, so today I walk. Up on arriving at the Lyndhurst information center I’m informed that here is no bike shop in this town. The next town over, 4 kilometers has one, oh joy. Where is the nearest campground? You’d have to go about 2 kilometers in the opposite direction, of course, it that kind of day.
Wait the annoyed Information person says, “There’s a bike rental shop around the corner why don’t you see if he can help.” Arriving at the bike rental shop the man who runs it say’s “I don’t fix flats. Here come on in lets have a look. Here you by the tube and fix it here in the shop.” With the flat fixed I am pointed toward the “campground.” This campground is also a working farm. “We have no trimmings” which means a field with an outhouse, and a water faucet on a post.
Now it’s Saturday, down the road to catch a train to make up time. I reach the station, which is unmanned. You have to go down a set of stairs to get to the track. Unloading the panniers from the bike, down the steps we go. When the bike is down and reloaded I find an information call box. After pushing the button the nice person on the other end tells me that a train will be stopping in about 10 minutes, “but your on the wrong side of the tracks.” I smile. By the time I get every thing back up the stairs the train pulls up to the station. It will be four hours before the next train stops here. I ride on.
Riding through New Forest was not on my “bucket list” yet it was interesting. Deep, dark green woods, moors of brown, birds, and horses complete with horseshit everywhere. Cars are flying down this road with horses wandering about. When passing the horses raise there heads looking at me as if to say “I’d get you there faster with a lot less effort.” Yeah but I can’t take you on the train.
Upon reaching (town) I head directly to the train station. “You going on the train with your bike? After answering in the affirmative the gentleman who asked say’s “You have to go up the stairs and over to the next platform.” “Up the stairs? I ask. “yes, I’ll help you. You take the front I’ll take the rear.” So up we go, half way. He says “I have to go take care of this train wait here.” Like I’m going to anywhere. He leaves two other people come along and up we go. It takes three people to get the bike up the stairs.
Now this train person comes back. He tells me that when he was 61 he rode all over Spain “Tuned me right up it did. The first couple of days I thought I’d die, but them up and down the hills with no problem. I had a trailer on the back of my bike, aluminum one nice and light. How long you going to be here? After I tell him he said “You could borrow it if you want. I’ll give you my number and when you get back this way you can use it for the rest of your trip.” He gives me a paper with his name and number I give him mine.
So that’s it, that pretty much what happened and what I’ve been thinking. I sitting in a pub again, to get on the internet. In the background are American oldies blaring, with some girl, who should not give up her day job, howling, like a dog at the moon, to them. Time to sleep.
Things could be worse - the roof at the office is leaking again - Yes we did have one day of rain - It is breaking records over 105 in PHX - people are calling off sick and I've had to adjust the damn schedule again - all in all have a GREAT TRIP - Denny
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