Book review: Der Mann auf dem Hochrad (Timm)

In 2017 the bicycle (or at least its fundamental idea, the Draisine) turned 200 years old – what better reason does one need to read a book about the bike? Somebody recommended Uwe Timm’s “Der Mann auf dem Hochrad” (The Man on the Penny-Farthing) to me and in no way did I ever regret reading this book.

I am not normally drawn to family stories/histories, but the author did a very nice job here. He wrote about his great-uncle Franz, a taxidermist, but he is telling the story about the introduction and subsequent demise of the penny-farthing in Coburg, a town in southern Germany, at the end of the 19^th century. And not only that: one also learns about the social conditions and prejudices prevalent at the time.

Admittedly, the style of story-telling at times is somewhat exaggerated and many situations surely have sprung from the author’s imagination. But the book is very enjoyable and amusing to read and ends way too soon.

I think everybody who enjoys cycling would also enjoy this book. But unfortunately there seems to be no translation available into any other language. And you should have a good command of German to read this book because it uses some antiquated terminology and some dialect (notably north-eastern Platt).

2017 ist das Fahrrad (oder zumindest dessen Idee, die Draisine) 200 Jahre alt geworden – warum also nicht mal ein Buch über das Fahrrad lesen? Mir wurde von jemandem das Buch “Der Mann auf dem Hochrad” von Uwe Timm ans Herz gelegt und ich habe die Lektüre in keinster Weise bereut.

Eigentlich bin ich ja nicht so für Familiengeschichten, aber der Autor hat es sehr geschickt gemacht. Er erzählt zwar über seinen Großonkel Franz, einen Tierpräparator, aber eigentlich dreht es sich hier um die Einführung des Hochrades in Coburg sowie dessen fast gleichzeitigen Niedergang Ende des 19. Jahrhunderts. Und nicht nur das: man lernt nebenbei auch noch einiges über die sozialen Verhältnisse zur damaligen Zeit.

Zugegebenermaßen ist die Erzählweise manchmal etwas überzogen und viele Begebenheiten entspringen sicher allein der Phantasie des Autoren. Jedoch ist das Buch sehr amüsant und kurzweilig und leider viel zu früh zu Ende. Absolute Pflichtlektüre für jeden, der gerne Rad fährt.

Book review: The Hungry Cyclist (Kevill-Davies)

Maybe I got carried away somewhat by sewing and building piling up a stash over the past couple of weeks (amongst other things), neglecting this blog a bit. Which means that not only do I now have a heap of fabrics in one corner but a growing number of read-and-ready-to-be-reviewed books piling up in another corner of my home. So, perhaps I should sit down and do a bit of writing for once…

…starting with Tom Kevill-Davies’ book “The Hungry Cyclist“, which was the last book I finished reading in 2016. It is subtitled “Pedalling the Americas in Search of the Perfect Meal” – which I think is not necessarily accurate, although I might be splitting hairs here. I would rather say that Tom Kevill-Davies was out on the road searching for delicious local specialities and everyday food. And did he whet my appetite! As well as prompt a surge of “Fernweh” and a yearning to likewise pedal the Americas every time I picked up the book.

The book is an appreciation and celebration of local cuisine. It is the account of Kevill-Davies’ two-year-long cycle trip through the US and Canada, Mexico and Central America, and northern South America, ending in Brazil. He tells very eloquently about his trip, his encounters, and of all the food his taste buds had the pleasure to be treated to. And he also does not neglect to tell about his doubts and exhaustion about a year into his quest – fortunately without coming across as whiny.

As a bonus, every chapter ends with two recipes. Some of those are definitely worth a try, while others are, well, they sound good, but, you know… finding the ingredients might prove a bit difficult. I haven’t asked yet, but actually I doubt that my butcher will able to provide me with beaver or snapping turtle. But that is just a minor inconvenience and does nothing to lessen the pleasure of reading about it.

I thoroughly enjoyed the book – actually, had he written a day-to-day account of his trip, I would have devoured it just the same. Having been to Latin America myself, I could relate to many things the author wrote about – and it made me curious about travelling (and eating my way) through those parts of the Americas I have not yet visited.

It has been done

I went on my first bike ride of the year. The first one on my road bike, that is (since I have, of course, been pedalling regularly on my city bike, as always).

Another rider and I took advantage of the milder weather over the past weekend and we rode just over 55 km on Sunday. There were still a few patches of ice on one or two of the less travelled country lanes, but those were no real obstacles anymore. The ride also included some 500 m in elevation – not all that much, but after this road bike winter break, hills are still not any easier than before. I really cannot fathom why I am struggling so much with hills. That is, considering that I do not mind riding in a stronger headwind on long-ish straight roads for quite a while (as I sort of rediscovered yesterday, during my second ride of the year). From what my legs tell me, headwinds and hills are, essentially, the same effort. But somehow my mind automatically switches into constant moaning mode as soon as we reach any rise in terrain – while almost rejoicing as soon as I start to lean into a headwind. Then my mind starts chirping: “Look, that’s at least 5 km to go against the wind, straight on, without any tree or house in between for respite – isn’t that just wonderful?!?”

Somehow I am not very good at arguing with my mind.

The good, the bad, the ugly

Let’s start off with the bad news: the weather is still not favourable for having a nice and relaxing ride on a road bike. And this will continue to be the case for at least another week and a half. I had been making (semi-serious) plans of going out on a ride with another person this Sunday but after speaking with our bike-dealer we decided to listen to reason. Having our bike-dealer tell us that it is too dangerous for road biking because there might be patches of ice on any of the roads made it an official weather warning for us (there are not that many weather conditions deterring our bike-dealer from riding on a road bike).

The good thing, though: I am still able to run. I have determined that my cold is gone now. So, I donned my running shoes and headed out for a run that went surprisingly well. Of course, I was slower than last year. But I was very pleased with myself and my body for being able to run continuously and not even stopping on the long up-hill stretch. Yay!

And the ugly? Well, that has to be the feeling you get from reviving muscle groups not used in a long time. Yes, aching legs are ugly. Isn’t it remarkable how cycling and running do not use the same set of muscles in your legs? But I live in hope that the pain will not linger as long as my cold did.

I’m going slightly bonkers

I want to ride my bicycle. But to use a very handy Japanese phrase: 都合が悪いですが… (= the circumstances are not favourable). Effectively, it has been a month since I last used my road bike for a longer ride. And this is not due to a lack of motivation on my side. Slowly but surely I am starting to get fidgety.

It is not the cold weather per se that is keeping me from cycling. Granted, there are some small routes with stretches of ice on them, but those can be circumnavigated (the main roads here should all be clear of ice now even though the temperatures have been – surprisingly persistently – below 0 °C for several days). I even enjoy cycling in colder weather, makes coming home so much more cozier.

The main problem is that I have spent the last three weeks struggling with a cold. This forced inactivity makes me restless and I am miffed about my declining fitness level. I had even wanted to go running again but could not, just because of some stupid virus nestling in my respiratory system. I have an urge to rant on for some time about this – being ill always makes me grumpy – but I think I already feel a bit better and hopefully I will be able to get active again within a couple of days. Rant over.

Riding farther and riding harder

I have noticed that I have not written about cycling in ages. Well, not that I am actually writing that frequently about anything. But I thought I should quickly sum up or highlight some of the time I spent on my road bike earlier this year – before publishing several posts about my cycling vacation in the Alps in August. I feel the need to mention that I did ride on a regular basis before my trip to the Alps, or else I fear I would sound like a bike prodigy. I am sure I only survived the Alps because of all the kilometers I rode before the trip, although nothing had actually prepared me for the mountains when they came. (But that, as I said, will be part of other posts – to come soon-ish…)

Most of my training actually came (and comes) from the weekly rides every Wednesday that always range somewhere between 50 and 60 km. But I also had a couple of rides with up to 85 km, all because I was the only person showing up for the beginner group. Which meant I had to ride with the faster and more experienced riders. But I am not complaining, it did help me with my riding.

I also threw in longer rides on Saturdays or Sundays, meeting up with other riders or participating in sportives.The longest ride I did was 160 km long (with a total elevation of 1600 m) – and yes, I felt slightly exhausted after that. But I really enjoy long distance riding. I already covered distances of over 100 km in a day with my touring bike. However, on a road bike I am definitely faster and, thus, can cover even more kilometers (well, not having to carry saddlebags with your belongings definitely helps).

Apart from riding farther, I also practiced riding harder. One Wednesday evening my bike dealer chose a route explicitly in preparation for the Alps. The terrain around here is hilly, but there is one particular road that features a somewhat nasty incline. It is not long (approximately 800 m), but long enough to give you minutes of suffering. Turning into the street, it starts with an inclination of around 7%, and when you look up, you think that the road ends after around 200 m right in front of a wall. But that is not a wall, it is actually the street that you are seeing. And that is where the fun starts – with a gradient of 20%. Of course I did not succeed in conquering that hill in one go, but fortunately there was a driveway where I could stop and take a deep breath before continuing. I should actually try riding up that street again, in retrospect I think I had fun.

Speaking of fun: I already dropped the term sportive. They are a lot of fun and I really wish I had known about them earlier. Especially when I look back and compare them to running events. Not only are sportives cheaper (the entry fee is lower and you will have a lot more food at the feeding stations), they are also a great deal more social. While I perceive running events as “everyone for themselves”, during a sportive you can easily join other (groups of) riders and it is easy to have a nice chat. I think I should add that the sportives that I have attended here were all non-competitive events (although some people do race them), so this certainly adds to the more jovial air. But road bike riders in general are a friendly folk (and I hope that includes me, too). It is a shame that the season for these events is slowly drawing to a close but I have already jotted down some dates for next year.

I’m an idiot

“There is always going to be someone idiotic enough to turn up for a ride even in weather like this,” was what my bike dealer said when I popped into the shop on Wednesday afternoon. It was pouring down with rain and the forecast for the evening, in time for the weekly group ride, was not looking any better. “Well, let’s see… we are going to ride together, by the way, no splitting into groups today… ah, the internet says there’ll be less rain to the north-east. North-east it is then, on a relatively flat route.” To which my only reply was: “So, what you’re saying is that you have just convinced me to get on my bike and ride tonight?” The answer was a shrug, followed by: “Don’t forget your overshoes. And better put on that rain jacket that you have.”

Yes, the rain jacket. I have bought a new one to be worn on my road bike. I have to admit it has a rather tight fit. But I was told that that is the way your clothes should be on a road bike. It has to do with being more aerodynamic and stuff. The label of the jacket actually said something like “breathable” and “atmungsaktiv”. And when the zip is closed I am able to breathe. A shallow breath once every hour or so. This whole “active breathing” thing is a bit of an overstatement, I have to admit. But the advertising people have to put something on the label, don’t they? Still, why did I buy it? One, the other rain jacket I have definitely is far too big by now and would only flap around wildly (and I doubt it would adequately cover my lower back on the road bike). Two, this new one was a bargain (at least in comparison). And the selling argument my bike dealer offered: “But didn’t you say you wanted to lose some more weight anyway?” To which I answered with some disgruntled mumbling but, in the end, I had to concur. And yes, the jacket already fits better than the first time I tried it on some weeks ago (although I wished I would be losing more weight faster at present). At the same time, I am also working hard on improving my apnoea skills…

When I stepped out of the house with my road bike, clad in said rain jacket, short rain trousers, and overshoes, it was still raining. Heavily. And when I rolled up at our meeting point a couple of minutes later, I was greeted by a cheerful: “Told you that there are always some idiots ready to ride, no matter what!” There you have it – I am now officially an idiot. But I was not the only one, we were a total of four.

So we set out in the rain and I began to notice that subconsciously I was starting to act out my safety routine again. I kept my distance to the other three and felt apprehensive to go at a higher speed. It is one thing to tell yourself at home that your riding skills will only benefit from a ride in unfavourable weather conditions, and another to actually be out on the road. My bike dealer tried to install more confidence in me by telling me that my wheels should still have around 80% of the grip that they have in dry conditions as well as by giving me tips on how to break in the wet. And I tried to tell myself that I needed to be more confident or else I would eventually risk an accident just by feeling insecure.

I sensed that I was starting to mentally tire myself by mulling over this and after around 10 km, while stopping at a traffic light, I said that I was thinking about turning back. Which was met by a plain: “No.” Beg your pardon? Well, according to the others there was no need for me to cut the ride short as it was starting to clear up and I was promised they would reduce their speed somewhat so it would be easier for me to keep up. At the same time my bike dealer also publicly revoked my status as a novice rider. (Thanks for the compliment.)

And indeed the weather did clear up shortly thereafter. For about half an hour. And when the rain picked up again (more forcefully than before), we were too far gone on our way for me to think about quitting again. I accepted my fate and trudged on even as the water was washing over the pavement in ripples. Oh, that sounds more downbeat than it should. Actually, I am glad that I pulled through for the whole two and a half hours – even though I felt mentally drained by the end, I also felt elated because I was braving the elements. I overcame some of my anxiety and I feel that my cycling skills have indeed improved (for example, I was cycling much closer to the others later on, without feeling outright alarmed). However, I am not too eager to ride in conditions like that every day.

More cycling

How good it feels to not be running.

Last week’s ride (the weekly Wednesday one) was very lovely but also somewhat more demanding than usual. At least for me, because I had the pleasure (?) of joining the fast group as nobody else had turned up for the slow/beginner one. The route featured some pavé and a couple of rather nice views across the countryside, but I think my personal highlight was seeing a wildcat (Felis silvestris silvestris) in the forest just before reaching home. There are at least seven wildcats living in this woodland, a recent study has revealed, but actually seeing one is considered close to impossible because they are very good at hiding. Hence, I suppose, the alarmed look on the cat’s face when my companion and I swung into the lane that it was just about to cross. I first mistook it for a rabbit, but the ears looked a bit off and when the animal made the jump for the shrubs to hide again, it was obvious it was a cat (and it was not a domesticated one, because it was clearly sturdier and its face broader than that of a domesticated cat).

But back to writing about the ride. The route started off with a very long flat segment through the fields. There was a strong headwind and I was very glad to be able to shelter behind the other riders. I had the feeling that I was keeping up very well with the other, more experienced riders, although I did struggle with cornering again. I am still uneasy with rushing into corners at nearly full speed, so I clutch the brakes well in advance. Which meant that I lost on the group every time we turned left or right and I had to put a lot of effort into catching up and entering into the slipstream again. Still, I felt pretty good about being able to do so. But my bike dealer knows how to dampen crush my spirits. When we spoke the next day, I was told that they were “going extra slow at 27 to 29 km/h” in order for me to be able to keep up. Sigh, right, cut me down to size…

Anyway, the flat section ended with a stretch of pavé that I hit rather unaware of it coming on (the riders in front were blocking my view). Wow, I never imagined it would be that hard to ride over cobblestones on a road bike and it really does take a lot of effort to maintain some speed. Fortunately, it did not last forever.

We split the group soon after this because the others were embarking on some rather nasty climbs. I was joined by one other person who also was not too keen on this exertion and we said we would do one climb, slowly, then take a more or less direct route home. Unfortunately, after the first hill, the path we tried to ride on soon ended in a muddy track, so we rode back and took the next best road – which led us down again. I think in the end we took more or less the same route the others did – including two more longish climbs that felt rather nasty.

But I think I have learned my lesson. And that lesson is: I need to refuel earlier. Well, to tell the truth, I already knew this before this ride. I know I will invariably hit rock bottom after riding around 50 km and I should try to eat something before reaching that number. But this ride clearly drove this message home. Midway through our first climb I had had to stop to catch my breath. Admittedly, I had exhausted myself on the flat section before with my sprints after each corner. But did I want to admit that openly? Well, at least I was wise enough to gulp down a nut bar some time after our first descent. I was by then noticing that my concentration was also declining. It took a while for the food to take effect but on the last ascent my power had rebounded noticeably – I was still slow and my breathing heavy, but it was not as bad as before and I could ride up without having to stop.

So, yes, from now on I will be good and I promise that I will try to remember to fuel my body earlier.

Cycling

Due to the astonishingly warm weather we have had so far during this winter, I have been riding my road bike now at least once a week since I have it. But this Wednesday’s ride will be called off because the weather has remembered it is mid-January and it needs to give us conditions more appropriate for the time of year. It is not so much the cold but the fact that there is ice on the roads that is leading to my involuntary pause.*(I would have liked to insert a link to the footnote below, but it won’t work) So, I thought it might be time to recap my cycling experience on a road bike so far.

To put it in a nutshell: it is fun.

To expand a bit: it is a lot of fun during the day and still fun at night (albeit somewhat more demanding because you have to concentrate more to be prepared for any pothole or obstacle that might suddenly appear out of the dark). Riding in a group is good exercise for me because most of the other riders are quicker and fitter, so I do push myself more than when riding alone. And I have noticed I am improving, slowly but steadily.

And others notice, too. I now have had two persons comment on two separate occasions that I have become better. One was a more general comment that I am now slightly faster than on our first ride together, the other was a comment on my ability to cycle down hills faster at a somewhat higher speed than before. It is not that I am as fast as a lightning bolt, far from it. But my bike and I are becoming more confident with each other. Which also shows up in my train of thoughts while out riding. Initially, all I could or would think about was the descends. From the start, I would be preoccupied with how many descends there would be and hope that they would not turn out to be as steep and/or as long as I feared. Then, the closer I came to the apex of a hill, the more panicky I would get. And with the downward tilt, I would wonder how the others could whiz down the hill like that, while at the same time I would be desperately clutching my brakes. Well, I have changed. I am a tad bit more relaxed. Not a lot, but I do let go of the brakes from time to time. And my mind also turns to other aspects of the ride. Now it likes to point out that there is also still a lot of room for improvement when it comes to cycling uphill. And that, if I ever want to be able to ride in front of the others as a pace maker and not cowardly hide behind everyone, then I had better start building up some muscle soon. Yes brain, thank you very much.

I am also getting used to my cycling shoes. I had some very ill-fitting cycling shoes before for my touring bike. The good thing about them was, I had the option of firmly attaching myself to the pedals or not. But the problem was, my feet went numb after some time. So I decided to have a new pair of shoes, which came along with a different type of clipless pedal system, when I had my road bike (and there might be a blog post coming up on choosing shoes for cycling). The problem with these shoes and pedals is: no matter how I turn it, I am constantly linked to the pedals. Which means, I always have to remember to twist my foot sideways to dislodge from the pedal when I have to stop. But, just like the descending-thingy, it no longer occupies my thoughts the whole time. It only pops up in the back of my mind now when we are approaching a traffic light or an intersection. And I have only had one near fall yet due to my shoes. I could not get out of the pedals quick enough at one stop, but somehow, just before falling, I managed to jump out of both pedals simultaneously and landed on both my feet at once. Not a perfect 10 though, but no fall either.

In addition to all that, I have now also learned how to change my breaking pads. The week before last we had a nice ride on Wednesday night, but the streets were wet and mucky and we ended up looking like a mild case of cyclo-cross. A good ride, but the wet conditions led to the rapid demise of my breaking pads (especially the ones at the rear). The pads I had on my bike were suited better for cycling in dry conditions, something my bike dealer apparently thought I would be doing for a start (yes, Bike Dealer is now apparently pleasantly surprised). I did make it home safely but I was quite worried the next day when I saw how thin the pads had actually worn. My bike dealer was already expecting me when I went down to the shop and there was a place left in the workshop where I could hook up my bike. So, I now have breaking pads better adapted to wet conditions. And the knowledge of how to change them the next time.

So, to sum it all up: it is fun. And it actually is so much fun that I have already said I would join the cycling holiday in the Alps that my bike dealer is organising this summer. Well, it is not 100% certain I will be able to join the group and I can still opt out. But I have the intention and desire to go, so finger’s crossed everything else will work out, too.

 

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The footnote:

* Actually, there will be a group ride this Wednesday, but on mountain bikes. Speaking yesterday, my bike dealer was thinking about lending one to me but in the end we decided against it. Because I am not really drawn to mountain bikes, I have not yet even sat on one. So Bike Dealer said it might be wiser to not start riding one in the dark but to wait till there is daylight and some people with a skill level similar to mine for a fun ride. My first mountain bike ride is thus only postponed, not cancelled (and I am not sure how to feel about that). Also, I doubt I have enough clothes at the moment warm enough for any rapid descent on a bike in sub 0 °C conditions.

A leisurely ride through the countryside

… and learning by doing – that is what probably best describes my second and third group outing on a racing bike. And I am still somewhat befuddled as to what I seem to have signed up for just by wanting to ride.

My second ride, on Wednesday evening of the week before last, was more like how the first ride should have been going. The route for the beginner’s group (that I am in, of course) was to be 53 km, at a moderate pace, with one long climb up a hill – and so we did 53 km and managed to stay together as a group for the climb with nobody trying to out-race the others. Well, we had had a stern warning from my bike dealer, who is organizing these rides, beforehand. During the ride I stayed mainly at the back of the group, not because I couldn’t keep up but because somehow I did not dare to ride at the front. Because I am new to the group, I somehow felt like I should not be wedging myself between the other riders who apparently know each other for a while now; maybe they wanted to have a chat with each other and I might be a nuisance. Also, because I tend to leave a larger gap towards the person in front of me than the other riders, I felt as if I might tear the group apart by riding somewhere in the middle. I know it will get better over time with more practice (and in daylight) and my third ride certainly helped me take a huge step forward in learning to put myself more up front.

For my third group ride, last Wednesday, the tour was supposed to be 54 km long with three short to medium length climbs in between – but we ended up doing 57 km. And it was all my fault, and mine alone, because this time I was in charge of the group! Yep, huge “career move” there for me and one I did not really expect. It all came about because the person who was supposed to lead the group couldn’t show up. So on Tuesday, I received an e-mail from my bike dealer, who knows I have a GPS that I am using for cycling, asking me if I still wanted to go, together with the link for downloading the tour onto my device. Stupid question, of course I wanted to cycle, the weather forecast said it would be dry and still quite warm. On Wednesday, my bike dealer continued to look for somebody else to lead the beginner’s group but had no luck. So when I popped into the shop in the afternoon we decided that I should actually head the group for the ride.

Before the ride, the four persons coming with me were reminded to behave and to not speed away. And I have to give them credit, they were extremely patient with me. Because, of course, the inevitable happened: I managed to miss the right path on three separate occasions at the start of the ride, leading to the three extra kilometers. For me, finding the right way in the darkness, even though I had cycled on the path a while ago, was still quite challenging (I was strongly reminded of my recent course where I learned that the tour guide has to be familiar with the route and be aware of possible dead alleys). Fortunately, I got better along the way with no more deviations. I think I also managed to set a good pace, neither too fast nor too slow. And I can proudly say that I brought all of us safely back to where we started.

But being a pessimist, I still expected to hear that someone had complained about my inability to read maps when I crept into my bike dealer’s shop the next afternoon. But miraculously there had been no complaints – “and there should be none, because most of those people are cycling with us now for years but nobody ever volunteers when it comes to leading groups. So, it is good to know I can rely upon you in the future,” quoth my bike dealer. Erm, thanks for putting so much trust in me.

But yes, I actually am flattered to be considered trustworthy enough to be the leader of a group and I am looking forward to doing it again in the future. Although, I am glad it won’t be this Wednesday.