Flats, Hills, Gingerbread & Pain

Beers before noon (or in this case, 10 a.m.) just somehow taste better.

I was looking for an excuse not to ride.

In the end, I was presented with many, but took none.

Stewart and I had tentatively agreed to meet at 9 at The Smallest Pub in the World in Úholičky.

Despite beautiful weather in the days leading up to the ride, the morning itself dawned cold and gray and threatened rain.

I texted Stewart:

Pretty blah out there. Hard to get excited by a ride. What do you think? Ride at 9? Wait a bit? Or cancel?

He was having none of it:

I'll be there at 9, dude. Lovely day!!!

Righty-o! I replied.

The ride was on.

I suited up, grabbed my gear, including a rain jacket, and prepared to hit the road.

It had started to drizzle.

Then the phone rang. It was Stewart.

He’d suffered a puncture almost as soon as he’d headed out to meet up with me.
Which was funny, because he’d woken up to find his front tire flat, and had just replaced the tube.

And now the new tube was flat.

I had a few extra tubes at home, so instead of calling off the ride (which is, funnily enough, kinda what I wanted to do in the first place), I offered to throw my bike and the extra tubes in my car and drive over to Stewart’s house in Roztoky.

Which I did.

Once he took off the front tire, for the second time that morning, he discovered a small thorn still sticking through the rubber. He’d changed the tube, but had forgotten to check the inside of the tire.

(I use these things called Slime Liners, which fit between the tube and the tire, and I'm sure it's helped me avoid many flats.)

We pulled out the thorn, replaced the tube, and set off.

We headed down to the trail on the west side of the Vltava River, below Roztoky, and headed north toward the village of Podmoráň, and then up the killer hill to Úholičky. (The river section of this ride is very pleasant, especially on a morning that’s not cold and damp and spitting rain.)

That hill is a killer for me anytime of the year, but it was particularly painful on this day, what with me being totally out of shape and fat and all.

But I did make it.

And then Stewart suggested we have a beer.

We’d gone about six kilometers so far, and it wasn’t even 10 a.m.

I said yes.

Sadly, TSPITW was still closed, but a pub with outdoor seating was serving across the road, so that’s where we went.

Beer tastes different before noontime. Better, somehow. Funny thing, that.


I thought the rusted metal sides of an old building near Kralupy (above and below) were quite beautiful, in their way. Like an abstract painting.



(In Croatia a few weeks ago, Stewart and I walked to a neighboring village to buy some fresh fish for that evening’s barbecue. By the time we’d gotten the fish and some veggies for dinner, it was about 8:30 a.m. or so. We sat down at a sidewalk café, ostensibly to have a coffee, but it was already warm and sunny, and we’d been walking, and found ourselves ordering a beer instead. And then another. Beer never tasted so good.)

We limited ourselves to one beer and hit the road again.

We decided to head toward Marina Vltava in Nelahozeves, grab a few more beers and maybe a bite. It’s become one of our favorite rides, as I wrote about a few months ago. It’s got everything – beautiful scenery, car-free trails, exhilarating downhills, painful uphills, and a very pleasant riverside pub at the end.

The ride to the marina was uneventful, but a lot of fun. I’d gotten over my disinclination to ride. The beer didn’t hurt.

We had a couple of 12-degre Pilsner Urquells at the marina, and two bowls each of some unusually tasty garlic soup, and then it was time to head home.


Hot garlic soup and a cold Pilsner or two.

The ride to the marina is very nice, but it should really be flipped around, with the hard bits in the first half of the cycling. Instead, after you’ve had a few beers, and your legs have had a good long chance to stiffen, you’re faced with the long, steep slog out of Libčice nad Vltavou toward Úholičky, which seems never to end.

I loathe that section of the ride.

Before that ascent, however, we passed an oddly depressing country carnival set up in a field along the river in Libčice. The carnival was sparsely attended, which only added to the overall sadness that seemed to permeate the grounds. It featured rides decorated with garishly colored paintings that seemed to date from the mid-1980s or so.

The whole thing was kind of sweet, but creepy, in my opinion.


I must admit to having felt a bit depressed at this fair in Libčice. This ride, called Break Dance, seems to date from the 1980s.


A kiosk selling "perník," or gingerbread hearts decorated with sweet words that boyfriends traditionally buy their girlfriends at such fairs. At least in the old days, I'm told, the gingerbread would often have a small mirror embedded in it, so the girlfriend could see her reflection.

We high-tailed it out of there, up the hill above Úholičky, near what we call Garbage Mountain, and then down through some overgrown forest trails back into Podmoráň.

We retraced our steps back to Stewart's house, me walking my bike part of the way up the very steep trail back into Roztoky. My thighs just couldn't take anymore punishment.

I was exhausted, frankly. We both were.

And then I had a stag party to go to that afternoon and evening.

I finally made it home after midnight that night, and slept the sleep of the Gods.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 46 kilometers
Average speed: 13.9 kph
Maximum speed: 51.1 kph
Time on the bike: 3.15.16
Pivo Index: 3
Distance ridden so far in 2009: 474 kilometers


River reflections near Kralupy.

Out Of Shape, But Back In The Saddle

I think these are plums. They looked like cherries, but had the flesh of a plum. Pretty tasty.

My thighs were burning. My lungs were heaving.

And I wasn’t even out of my driveway yet.

Yes, I’m back on the bike after three months off to nurse a reconstructed acromioclavicluar joint, the joint on the top of the shoulder.

I had surgery at Prague’s Motol Hospital in late May. Wires removed from my shoulder in July. Spent two weeks resting and recuperating in Croatia. And now I’m in physical therapy.

But that isn’t preventing me from getting back on my bike. Which I finally did on Saturday, my first ride since mid-May.

I actually felt a bit nervous, although I don’t know why, really.



I also felt out of shape, but I definitely know why that is. I haven’t really exercised for three months, save for my daily swimming in the Adriatic while I was in Croatia. Great for my shoulder. Not so great for my thighs and lungs and overall cycling stamina.

I figured I’d take it easy on my first ride, so on a gorgeously sunny, hot day, I met up with Stewart at the fabled (at least in our minds) Smallest Pub In The World in Úholičky.

The first hill climb out of my home village of Černý Vůl to Velké Přílepy was a real eye-opener. It’s not that difficult of a climb, for God’s sake. Not even close. But it almost killed me. Or at least my thighs.

I did spot a local orchard selling plastic bottles full of most, or home-pressed apple cider, and was tempted to stop and load up with a few (they were so delicious last year), but in the end I didn’t want to weigh myself down any more than I already was weighed down by my overindulgence in Croatia. I’d just stop on my way home.

I made it to the SPITW, met up with Stewart, and we decided just to tackle one of our usual routes – from Úholičky, up the hill (ugh!) to Tursko, and on the road toward Kozinec.

Near Kozinec, we decided to check if the mean potato-throwers of last year were harvesting any more of their spuds or vitriol, but the field in question was deserted.

Along the way, though, we did enjoy a cornucopia of what I like to call Road Fruit –- apples and pears and plums growing in massive quantities along the country roads. Found some strange miniature pears that were delicious (do they have a name?), as well as what I think were a variety of plum but which were shaped and sized like cherries.

We also found vast fields of poppy pods drying in the sun, which sounded like nature’s baby rattles when we shook them. We emptied a few out and ate some of the seeds, confident since we weren’t scheduled for any drug tests later in the day. (My favorite show, “Mythbusters,” proved that it is possible to eat poppy seed products and test positive for opiates.)


Stewart and I stopped to admire a vast field of dried poppy bulbs. Each beautiful bulb was filled with thousands of seeds.

We ended up in Holubice, and discovered that the archaelogical dig we’d marveled over last winter was completely covered over now, with a few houses built on top for good measure.

Then down toward Trněný Újezd, but turned just before the village, and headed up into some farmer’s field between Hole and Kovary.

We pedaled through some lovely Czech countryside, with commanding views over rolling hills that stretched into the distance.


Stewart and I head into the unknown. It's good to be back.

My shoulder didn’t really bother me, just a few twinges as we descended a particularly rocky path down into the valley behind Okoř, where we, naturally, stopped for a beer at the Family Hotel Okoř, perhaps the Greatest Place To Stop For A Beer While Cycling.

Hey, the village has a cool castle ruin and the hotel serves a fantastic half-liter of Pilsner Urquell or Gambrinus, and a killer steak. What’s not to like?

We had one beer. Then two. Then three. That was probably one too many, especially since I was heading out for a boozy dinner a few hours later. But it felt good, sitting in the sun after a sweaty run, back in the saddle after so many months away.



Leaving Okoř was excruciating, however. Not because it was hard to leave such a cozy watering hole, but because my muscles had totally seized up, and a fairly steep ascent is required just after leaving, heading back toward Velké Přílepy.

It was all I could do to limp back home.

To make matters worse, the lady selling the fresh apple cider was nowhere to be found. Drats.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 28 kilometers
Average speed: 13.8 kph
Maximum speed: 43.4 kph
Pivo Index: 3
Time on the bike: 2.00.31
Distance ridden so far in 2009: 428 kilometers (so sad!)


We had to stop to admire this field of wildflowers. Buttercups?


I love this house, which is in the valley behind Okoř. Someone told me that a famous opera singer lives here. It's called Novy Mlyn, or New Mill. You'd swear you were in the English countryside. Perfectly manicured lawn. Beautiful sculptures. Flowers. A house right out of the Lake District. So nice.

Help Us Find Zhenya. There's A 5,000 Kc Reward

UPDATE: We found Zhenya! Read more here!

We're devastated.

We've just returned from two weeks on vacation to discover that our beloved cat, Zhenya, escaped from the apartment at Radimova 17 in Prague 6, where she was being kept.

She's been gone for two weeks now, with one possible sighting.

She's a beautiful orange cat, very skittish, with gorgeously soft fur.

If you live in the general area of the Břevnov Monastery and the Střešovice neighborhoods of Prague 6, please be on the lookout.

If you find her or think you've seen her, please call me at 728-070-139, or Emma's father and stepmother at 777-855-768 or 608-248-312.

We're prepared to pay a 5,000 Kc reward.