Taking Our Pick

The Czech countryside is a giant free fruit basket.

Man, that was one sweet pear.

Stewart and I were in an orchard somewhere between Husinec and Vetrušice, and we were amazed. Delicious apples and pears just dropping to the ground. What a waste. We decided to do a little harvesting of our own.


Pears for the taking.

I must have eaten about six or seven small pears. Lovely little things, and so tasty. I even threw a bunch into my backpack for later. Stewart did the same.

We've always said (like the first time we stumbled across this orchard) that if you were homeless and hungry in Prague, all you'd have to do is head out to the countryside and there's a banquet in the bushes and trees -- fruits and berries everywhere.


Crossing the Vltava on the ferry in Roztoky.

On this ride, I met Stewart at the ferry crossing at Roztoky. I had ridden from my house in Černý Vůl (past the ruins of our beloved Koliba, with no rebuilding in evidence), and he came down from his home higher up on the hill in Roztoky.

We hauled our bikes onto the ferry and crossed the Vltava as a silvery sun sliced through the gathering clouds.

We decided to head up the trail toward Kralupy, but neither of us had the time to make it to the Marina Vltava (our new replacement for Koliba) for a beer.

Along the way we passed a creepy pub/snack bar dedicated to the beloved Czech stop-motion animated characters Pat and Mat. Maybe it was just the fact that it was deserted and cold, but the whole place felt weird and slightly dangerous. U Pedophilia, if you get my drift.

Instead, we headed up the steep, winding road into the hills above Klecany, marveling at our ability to carry on a conversation as we climbed, something we'd have been hard-pressed to do a few years ago. We still laugh at some of the hills that used to give us problems but which today seem like speed bumps. (Except for the Hill of Doom. That one is still a monster and always will be.)

(Click here to see a map of our entire ride.)

At the top of the hill in Klecany, we linked up with a trail that cut across to Vetrusice and then further still, across fields and forests, to the ridge above Dol.

In Vetrušice, we came across a beautifully done statue, carved from a tree trunk, of Boreas, the Greek god of the north wind.


Boreas.

It's an amazing downhill ride from the ridge above Dol to the Bee Institute, on a steep, rocky, leaf-upholstered trail that winds down and down and down and leaves you gasping for breath at the bottom. I barely kept myself in the saddle at some points.


The ride down into Dol is full of hidden ruts and rocks and roots and it's fantastic.

From this point, we decided to head further north and have a beer at a pub we knew in Dolany. Sadly, once we got there, we found it was closed. Too late in the season, I guess.

Damn.

We headed back upriver toward Prague, passing infamous Baker's Falls, the afternoon waning, the light fading. And us, pivo-less.


The sun sets as we head down the east side of the Vltava, back toward Prague.

At Řež, we crossed the pedestrian bridge back over to the west side of the river, and then walked our bikes on a narrow, largely unrideable trail next to the river and just below the railroad tracks. It's the same trail where Rob and I found a dead boar, probably hit by a train and flung down the bank.

It's an unpleasant stretch of path.


Twilight reflections on the Vltava.

If only someone would spend some money to extend the bike trail from Úholičky all the way to Řež. The trail from Roztoky to Úholičky is a wondrous thing and highly recommended.

And it was that trail that we picked up in Úholičky and took all the way back to Roztoky. Our plan? A ride-ending drink at Hospůdka Zvířátka (Little Animal), in Roztoky, which pours a wonderfully creamy half-liter of one of my favorite beers, Černá Hora.

And that's just what we did. In fact, we had two.

And then we went out separate ways.

What a nice little run that was.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 38.5 kilometers
Maximum speed: 35.1 kph
Time on the bike: 3.59.44
Pivo Index: 2
Distance ridden so far in 2009: 738.5 kilometers

Shhhh! What Do You Think This Is, A Pub?

A still-life from the Smallest Pub In The World (a.k.a. SPITW).

I was sitting in the grass at the Smallest Pub In The World in Úholičky, waiting for my good pal Stewart Moore to arrive for a ride, when my iPhone chimed with a text message.

It was James Gogarty, an old riding buddy, with a warning.

If you're out and about on your bikes stay clear of the fields or you will feel like the vietcong on the run with freakish amount of hunters out there.

We are indeed out on bikes. No hunters yet but thanks for heads up. Cheers.

No sooner had I hit the send button than two hunters and a dog walked in front of me. One of the hunters was carrying two dead pheasants.

Whereabouts are you?

Úholičky. World's Smallest Pub.

So I plan to stop for my first beer at Okoř at 3. Depending on your constitutions, it would be great to have one with the two of ya.

We had a plan.

It was a mild but depressingly gray day, the sky the color of wet cement, the clouds as low as a slow worm's belly.


The ruins of the 14th-century Okoř castle, enveloped in fog.

Stewart arrived, dripping sweat from the long slog up to the SPITW from the river.

We headed back toward Velké Přílepy and then to Noutonice, picking up one of our favorite trails that heads down into the valley behind the castle at Okoř.

I love that trail, but I was a bit trepidatious about taking it, what with all the hunters around. By this time, we'd heard a few shotgun blasts echoing through the woods. But we were talking loudly and we were dressed brightly, so I figured we'd be OK.

I can report that we did not get shot.

(For a map of our complete route on this day, click here.)

By this time, though, the fog had started to creep in, the ruins of Okoř castle looking like some fantastical movie set.

We rolled up to the lovely Family Hotel Okoř, where James was already nursing a beer at the picnic table outside. (We must have drunk about 500 beers at that table by now.)

We ordered some soup and drank a few beers and sat outside and laughed and talked and laughed some more. It was great to catch up with James after so many months.

I also got to chat in broken Czech and English with a guy who had stopped at the hotel with his 1956 Jawa motorcycle, made in Czechoslovakia. It was a thing of beauty. So many lovely design elements to pore over. Apparently the guy used to work as a technician for BMW and refurbished the motorbike himself.

Extremely cool.


A 1956 Jawa. Love that front fender!

It was starting to get dark (or darker, I should say) and we were starting to get cold, so we settled the bill and decided to head to another pub. Inside, this time. We figured we'd head back to the SPITW, which has a cozy fireplace.

Along the way, we cycled past misty ponds and on roads that disappeared into the thick fog just ahead of us. Magical.


Stewart (left) and James and some beer and some soup.

At the SPITW, we found a fire in the fireplace, a friendly barkeep, and no one else around. We ordered a round of beers and bourbons and got to talking and drinking. One bourbon led to another, and a few locals started to wander in. And before we knew it, we were being told by the lady bartender to shush. She did it all friendly like, with a smile, but she still asked us to shush.

Told to keep it down in a Czech pub!

We didn't know whether to laugh or get angry. I think we found ourselves feeling a little of both.

Yes, we were talking animatedly. But we were laughing and having a good time and not presenting a threat to anyone.

But as James pointed out, we were strangers talking loudly in a strange language. Perhaps if the tables had been turned, we'd have asked the table of loud Czechs speaking Czech to keep it down if we were in a bar in Boston.

But I doubt it. I know what James is saying, but I doubt it.


The scene of the crime.

But we didn't let it get us down. We drank some more and eventually tried to befriend that table of locals, to mixed success, as I recall. But I think in the end they realized we were harmless.

It was dark by this point, and time to head home.

Let me just say that we did not go gentle into that good night, after so many whiskies.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 25 kilometers
Maximum speed: 41.6 kph
Pivo Index: 3 for me
Whisky Index: Around 6 for me (from what I can remember)
Time on the bike: 2.10.15
Distance ridden so far in 2009: 700 kilometers


James in deep thought. Or deep in his cups. One or t'other.


Scenes (above and below) from a foggy ride from Okoř to Úholičky.

Whisky-A-Go-Go

No finer place to enjoy a glass of bourbon than from atop The Crag in Divoká Šárka.

Went on a bike ride with Stewart the other day, and boy, were we thirsty!

Stewart headed over to my place in Černý Vůl from his place in Roztoky. We were going to head out from here for a little change in scenery. We usually meet up in Úholičky (about halfway between our homes), but we invariably end up on many of the same trails and roads.

We were looking for a little variety.

Stewart arrived, I hopped on my steed, and off we went.

To Statenice.

From my house, that's about 1 kilometer or so. Two at the most.

That's when we stopped for our first beer.


The first beers of the day, from the pub in Statenice.

I did it for Stewart. I hadn't ridden enough to deserve a beer, but he'd cycled some seven or eight kilometers to get to my house, and he was parched. I couldn't be rude and not join him, so I went inside and ordered a couple of cold ones.


Trails upholstered in autumn leaves (above and below) in the forest near Predni Kopanina.





I used to think that a beer was a good way to reward myself during or after a tough ride. Now, I think I've convinced myself that it's a perfect way to begin a ride. It was a damp and cold and overcast day, and the beer put a positive spin on things right away. I also find myself able to tackle tough climbs when I've had one or two.

The beer gives me energy. Or courage.

From the pub in Statenice, we climbed immediately into the forest leading to Přední Kopanina. The woods there are crisscrossed by a wonderful maze of trails, as I wrote about recently. Some go up. Some go down. All are beautiful. Many of them are quite challenging.

We were heading up to the top of the ridge line, toward the tall stone cross known as Sv. Juliana.

We cycled on trails upholstered with leaves of orange and yellow. And we climbed and we climbed until our lungs ached and our thighs burned and we had reached the cross.

Time for more refreshments? Amen.

We dismounted and we decanted. A flask of Famous Grouse that Stewart had smuggled along in his backpack, that is. The water of life breathed new life into our muscles and refreshed our souls.

As we drank, a couple of menacing military helicopters flew low overhead, their destinations and missions unknown.

From there, it was another two or three kilometers to Přední Kopanina and Restaurace U Housliček, one of our favorite watering holes in these parts.

We ordered another beer, sat outside, and I cracked open a thermos of chicken soup I'd brought. Not sure which one tasted better.

Sated, yet again, we headed on a familiar trail across some farmer's fields toward our old stomping grounds, the park known as Divoká Šárka. Stewart and I used to ride through Divoká Šárka a couple of time each week when both of us lived in Prague 6. But we don't get over there very often nowadays.

(For a map of our entire route, click here.)


Here's an unlikely scene. Stewart riding into traffic on a precarious path along the highway between Přední Kopanina and Divoká Šárka. It was a very short stretch, but I don't fancy riding it again.

In the end, we cycled up to what we call The Crag, a dramatic rocky outcropping high above the valley that snakes through the park. It's a lovely spot, with sweeping views in all directions. The sun was trying to peek out of the thick clouds by this point, but it was still damp and cold.


The sun tries to break through the cloud cover, seen from atop The Crag.

Time for another wee dram. This time of Jim Beam, from a flask I had hidden in my own backpack. We sat on the rocks and looked out over creation and shared a few laughs, happy to be alive and on our bikes and feeling fine. It's a wonderful spot.

The flask emptied, it was time to get back on the bikes and head toward Nebušice. We were going to follow the trail past the cemetery and along the ridge above the village. It's a nice trail, that, but a lot more fun coming from the other direction. The way we chose on this day meant that it was all almost entirely uphill.

At the end of the ridge, we took another trail heading in the direction of Horoměřice. We crossed the village and explored some more in some forests on the way to Suchdol, crossing the highway 240 and heading down into the valley between Černý Vůl and Únětice.

By this point, I was pretty spent, I must admit (though I didn't say it out loud). I was looking forward to a hot shower and a hot meal, and I wasn't too far from home.

We parted ways, savoring the feeling that comes from pushing yourself hard on the bike. Let's call it elated exhaustion.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 22.5 kilometers
Maximum speed: 31.3 kph
Time on the bike: 4.51.03
Pivo Index: 2 each
Whisky Index: 1 flask each
Distance ridden so far in 2009: 674.5 kilometers

'Why In The Hell Are You Out Here, Grant?"

Stewart and I just had to pause and soak it all in. You can see why it's one of our favorite cycling trails.

The weather in Prague has been -- at it always is at this time of year and through April -- unbearably bleak.

It's cold and gray and cloudy, but the clouds are not distinguishable as clouds. The sky is one vast cloud the color of dirty dishwater, stretching from horizon to horizon. No light penetrates this bleak blanket. The sun is a pleasant memory, a summer dream.

The sky is so low that it feels like it's brushing the top of your head. It's oppressive and depressive.

It's also cold, a damp cold that slices through your skin and into your bones.

What better time, then, to go for a bike ride!

Stewart and I didn't have a lot of time, but we were itching to get out on the bikes. It had been awhile. Too long, in fact. I, for one, was hoping the ride would kick-start some endorphins, and make me forget about my hangover.

We made plans to meet at 9 a.m. at the world famous SPITW (Smallest Pub In The World) in Úholičky, about halfway between Stewart's house in Roztoky and my house in Černý Vůl.


Fall colors in Velké Přílepy.


It's fun to bike on roads when they're this pretty and this empty.

It was the first really cold ride of the autumn season, and I realized as I was well on my way that I had drastically underdressed. The sweat was freezing to my skin on the downhill into Velké Přílepy. It was around 3 degrees Celsius (37 Fahrenheit) when I left home, and the wind chill made it feel like I was wearing a skull cap made of ice. But I was too far into the ride to turn around.

I thought to myself, as I made my way to Uholicky, "Why in the hell are you out here, Grant? It's gray and miserable and you're freezing. It's not worth it."

But I pedaled on. Stewart was waiting.

(Of course, we've cycled in much colder weather than 3 Celsius, but I was dressed for it then.)


I admire this kind of architecture wherever it may be. This building could have easily been so boring.

Normally, we would have headed up the hill to Tursko and tooled around the roads and trails up that way, but we didn't have a lot of time on this day, so we chose to head back to Velké Přílepy and from there to Noutonice, and then down into Okoř and see what happened.

Passing through some backstreets of Velké Přílepy, we came across a funky, modernistic office building or school, newly built, and apparently paid for with money from the European Union. Quite a sight in such a humble little village. Very cool.

(You can find a map of our entire route by clicking here.)

We cycled to Noutonice, and then one of our favorite paths that leads from that tiny village down, down, down through the forest and then empties into the valley behind the castle at Okoř.

Along the way, we had to slam on the brakes to stop and appreciate a bit o' nature. The forest floor was upholstered with large yellow leaves. It was absolutely quiet, save for the sound of more leaves falling softly and coming to rest on top of their brethren.

We stopped, held our breaths, and soaked in the silence.

On the ridge above us, two deer walked slowly through the trees. I don't think they knew we were there.

We headed on down the hill and into Okoř through the back door.

Stewart's wife, Kathleen, had kindly packed us some hot, homemade lentil soup, so we stopped at a picnic table below the 14th-century castle ruins and warmed ourselves. What a treat.

Usually, we'd stop at the Family Hotel Okoř and have a beer or two (it also serves some of the finest steaks in Prague), but we just didn't have time. We had some family commitments looming. Sacrilege for this blog, I know.

We had a couple of coffees, instead, and warmed ourselves.

From Okoř, we cycled to the village of Lichoceves, then to Statenice, and then home for both of us.

But not before taking what turned out to be a dead-end trail through the forest above Statenice, forcing us to ride and walk our bikes through thick undergrowth and across a plowed farmer's field. Our tires were caked with mud, like we'd ridden through a vast batch of freshly baked brownies.


While we were sipping our coffees in Okoř, I noticed this sight at the table next to ours. A cat, I hope.

It wasn't a long ride, or particularly strenuous, but we accomplished what we set out to do. Get some exercise. And rid our bodies and minds -- however temporarily -- of Prague's dreaded winter blues.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 18 kilometers
Maximum speed: 34.9 kph
Average speed: 8.5 kph
Pivo Index: 0 (!)
Time on the bike: 2:05:12
Distance ridden so far in 2009: 652 kilometers


It was a dead end, but it didn't stop us.


Like riding through a huge batch of freshly baked brownies.

Mushroom Hill

This is indicative of the kinds of trails that crisscross the forest above Statenice. You can see why it's a cyclist's paradise.

Time to do a little housecleaning and confessing.

I strive in this blog to record something about every ride I take. I've found that to be difficult to achieve lately, what with recent trips to San Francisco and Amsterdam, and obligations at home and at work. I am only one man, people!

Plus, crazily enough, I have another blog, Gusto, that also beckons. (What was I thinking?!)

But I’m here today to play a little catch-up and keep my bike-blogging record secure.

Let me tell you about a fun little ride I went on back in late September.

I usually don’t ride alone. It’s just not as much fun, frankly. And I find companionship on the bike trails motivates me to tackle steeper hills and go on longer rides than I would by myself.

But it was a nice day, and I needed the exercise, so I braved the trails around my house in Černý Vůl solo.

I didn’t have a heckuva lot of time, so I decided to tackle one of the toughest climbs in my neighborhood.

I call it Mushroom Hill.

It's in the woods above the nearby village of Statenice. I’ve ridden around the forest there quite a few times, and it seems as if I always run into someone carrying a basket full of freshly picked mushrooms. (Mushrooming is a Czech obsession.)


Who da man? You da man! Or a bearded Elvis. I don't know what I was doing. I just had to do something silly with this arrow hanging from a tree trunk. Juxtaposed with another arrow pointing in the opposite direction. OK, I'll stop talking now.

It’s a steep, winding trail of dirt and rocks and roots. It snakes through some lovely forest, but you don’t have a lot of time to admire the views. You’re too busy trying to stay on your bike and not die of a heart attack. It’s not quite as bad as the dreaded Hill of Doom, but it has its moments.

It’s one of those hills that makes you think you’ve reached the top, but then presents you with another few hundred meters of tough slogging that you’d forgotten existed since your last visit.

But in an effort to motivate myself in the absence of a fellow rider, I was thinking to myself that once I got to the top of the hill, and rested at the Svata Juliana cross, that I would zip across the ridge to the village of Přední Kopanina and reward myself with a cold beer.

And that’s exactly what I did.

It was cold and it tasted crisp and it satisfied my thirst.


A beer still tastes good, even if you're sitting by yourself.

I decided against having a second, not wanting to negate all that hill climbing with another glass of delicious but dangerous carbs.

I set off from the pub and explored some previously unridden trails – almost all downhill at this point -- through the forest between Přední Kopanina and Statenice. I almost came off the bike a few times as I raced down the rocky, rooty path, my need for speed crowding out my better judgment.

I made a mental note to return to some of the many enticing paths I missed on this day.

And then I returned home.

Not a long ride, by any measure, but a good one. I’d broken a sweat, drank a beer, and explored a forest. Didn't see any mushrooms, though.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 12.5 kilometers
Average speed: 14.7 kph
Maximum speed: 33.1 kph
Time on the bike: 49.59
Pivo Index: 1
Distance ridden so far in 2009: 634 kilometers


A lovely grove of saplings somewhere deep in the woods near Mushroom Hill.