Spring Is Like An X-Ray

Who died here? And why?

Spring is like an X-ray.

The snow finally melts, the bushes and the trees are bare, and a cyclist or a hiker can see through things -- through hedges into normally hidden gardens, through bushes to the busted television left abandoned by the side of the road, through a tree line and across a valley to the usually hidden village below.

It was a glorious spring weekday, and I had the day off, so I went for a bike ride.

First, I had to fix the flat rear tire that I had discovered when I set out on my previous ride. Unthread the chain, remove back tire, remove old tube, install new tube, and rethread the damn chain (I always hate that part). Then I was off. (Oddly, I pumped up the old tube, and it's still holding air, even a few days later. A very, very slow leak, perhaps, but very strange.)

I was solo for this weekday outing, and I decided to tackle a hill that I'd never attempted before -- the Horoměřice Hill. It's a long and winding road from the area known as Jeneralka up, up, up to the plateau just outside of the village of Horoměřice. It never seems to end, even when you're driving it.


A farmer's field and hunting tower near Horoměřice.

I shouldn't say I've never attempted it before. I did make it to the top one day quite a few years ago on my old trekking bike. I was living in Prague 1 at the time and wasn't that familiar with this area (where I now live), and I made a wrong turn in an effort to outrun a fierce rainstorm and found myself on an unknown hill that seemed to ascend forever.

I kept looking for a place to seek shelter, but there was none to be found. I kept pedaling and the hill kept unfolding before me. Finally, I pulled my bike into the forest and sought some comfort under the leaves of the trees. I was soaked through and remember taking off my waterlogged shirt and wringing it out. I finally made it to the top and then the sun came out (!) and I headed home.

I'd never attempted it since.

I left my home in Černý Vůl, headed up and out to Horomerice along a back way that I'd discovered last year. On a back road in Horoměřice, I came across a cool old tree that I hadn't noticed on my previous rides. It was growing out of a house and courtyard that seemed to have been built around it. And then I noticed a sign that indicated that the tree was an oak, was more than 300 years old, and was officially protected.

I love to see such signs. I must say that the Czechs seem to love chopping down trees (as you'll see later in this post). I've seen it so many times in my many years living in the country. Yes, perhaps some of the trees are legitimately diseased, but in most cases, there seems to be little, if any, legitimate reason for their removal. Doesn't the European Union have regulations governing the arbitrary removal of trees?


The 300-year-old oak in Horoměřice.

Anyway, I'd cycled along that road many times and had never noticed the tree or the sign. A bike ride often reveals things that are usually left unseen. I'm always amazed by what I discover, even on supposedly familiar territory.

From there, it was into the village of Horoměřice and then across a wonderful dirt trail across the plateau above Jeneralka, then across a wonderful forest path above Nebušice that I've written about before, then through the village of Nebušice, then down, down, down the hill from Nebušice to Jeneralka.


A fantastic forest path above Nebušice.

And then it was time to steel myself for the climb. I took a puff on my asthma inhaler and a long swig of water and set off.

The traffic wasn't too bad (it's a fairly busy highway), and while it seemed neverending, the climb wasn't quite as difficult as it appeared. I stuck it out and didn't pause for a rest until I was on flat ground on the flat stretch of road leading into Horoměřice. I was quite proud of myself, actually.

What I had feared I conquered.

From there, I basically backtracked back home.

Along the way, however, I stopped to pay my respects at a homemade roadside memorial that I had noticed many times before from my car. A small cross and faded flowers marked the spot where someone with the initials of M.J. must have died a few years before. A cyclist, perhaps, struck down by an aggressive driver? A pedestrian who suffered the same fate? Or even a motorist (although I find that the least likely scenario)?

You see quite a few of these makeshift memorials along the roads around Prague. Not surprising, considering the insane Czech drivers -- some of the most aggressive and least courteous in all the world.


My route on this ride. (Click to enlarge)

From there it was back along Route 240, through the village of Horoměřice and down into Černý Vůl.

Along Route 240, I was able to get a closer look at a vast apple orchard -- hundreds of lovely trees -- that had recently been ripped from the ground. It's a shocking sight, and I was so depressed the first time I saw the destruction, driving home from work one day.


The field of fallen apple trees.

Why? Why? Why pull hundreds of apple trees out of the ground by their roots? Are they going to use the field to build new houses? Is the new Prague ring road going through that space?

Who knows. It's like looking at one of those Matthew Brady photographs from the Battle of Gettysburg, bodies on top of bodies, splayed in various poses of death. I find the sight incredibly distressing.

On the way home, passing through Černý Vůl, I was attacked by a beefy Doberman Pinscher. Fortunately, he was wearing a muzzle or he would have chewed my leg off, I fear. He was definitely trying to bite me. His owner was walking him without a leash in the village (which I will never understand) and he saw me and my bike and attacked.

Funny that in all the riding I've done that that hasn't happened more. This was the first time, actually.

Thus ended my ride of unexpected discovery.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 19 kilometers
Average speed: 11 kph
Maximum speed: 44.7 kph
Time on the bike: 1.41.06
Pivo Index: 0
Distance ridden so far in 2010: 52.5 kilometers

How We Roll In Černý Vůl

Kiya and Bishop Stewart Moore, wearing his cycling mitre, in front of the castle ruins at Okoř.

It's a hell of a thing to get all suited up for a ride, to get all your gear together, to remember your money and water and camera and Garmin and asthma inhaler, and then to go down to the garage and find out that your bike has a flat.

And not just any flat, but a rear flat, which I always find difficult to change. Not so much changing the tube. That's easy. But rethreading the chain correctly into the sprockets. The whole thing's a pain, frankly.

But that's exactly what happened last weekend when I was all set to go out for a ride with a new friend of mine, Kiya Wilson, the husband of Ellen Barry, an old friend of Daisy's. Kiya and Ellen were visiting us from Moscow, along with their 2-year-old daughter, Alice.

Kiya used to cycle quite seriously but hadn't really ridden since he'd moved to Moscow. Turns out that city is not exactly bike-friendly.


Our route on this day. Click to enlarge.

So I thought I'd take Kiya out and show him how we roll here in Černý Vůl. Stewart agreed to come along for the ride. Kiya would be riding Daisy's bike, a trusty Author.

Except I discovered, minutes from our appointed meeting time in Velké Přílepy, that my mountain bike had a flat rear tire. Seemed fine when I came in from my last ride. Weird.

I made a half-hearted attempt to change it, but I didn't have the time nor, more importantly, the patience. I made the bold decision to pump up the tires and oil the chain of my old trekking bike, Old Blue, and see how far she'd take me.

The last time I'd ridden her was in late October 2008, when Rob and I attempted our century ride. I'd ridden her reluctantly that morning, too, because I'd similarly found my mountain bike with a flat tire when I went out to the garage.

Turns out it was a big mistake to take that bike on such an ambitious ride that day. I only managed 112 kilometers before I had to call it quits. The gear ratio isn't suited for tough climbs, and I find the riding posture to be uncomfortable now. I'm sitting up in the saddle a little too straight for my liking. It's a good bike, though, and treated me well for many years.

Anyway, Kiya and I were going on a short ride, and would likely to end up in Okoř, so I figured I'd be OK on Old Blue for a few hours. We popped a few nonalcoholic Birrells in our water-bottle holders (I'd actually forgotten the water bottles, and there were a few cans laying around the garage) and we were off.

Turns out it wasn't the bike that stymied me, but the wind. A stiff wind right in our faces. All the way to Okoř. It was hell getting to Velké Přílepy from Černý Vůl, up the Route 240 hill. Cold, too. As usual, I'd underdressed, and found myself wishing for some ear protection and another layer under my windbreaker.

Kiya admitted that he had doubts, too, about making it up that hill. Quite a slog. The poor squished cat beside the road about halfway up didn't help our frame of mind.

We ended up meeting Stewart in Úholičky, and then backtracked to Velké Přílepy. From there, it was a hell of a hard ride into the wind on the high ground to Noutonice. Pretty unpleasant, frankly. Made me want to turn around. No fun.

We took the back way into Okoř from Noutonice, normally a lovely downhill through the woods. On this day, though, what with the spring thaw, much of it was like riding through chocolate ice cream. The parts that weren't muddy were still covered in a layer of hard-packed snow that had turned to ice.


Like riding through chocolate ice cream.

It was all we could do to stay on our bike and keep the pedals turning in the right direction.

By the time we reached the castle ruins at Okoř, we were ready for some hot soup, cold beer, and -- truth be told -- three whiskies each at the Hotel Okoř. Kiya wasn't drinking (one of the reasons he's in great shape and has lost so much weight recently), so he had a Birrell or two. We sat inside, out of the wind and the chill, and resuscitated ourselves.

Once we felt sufficiently recharged, it was back on the bikes to Černý Vůl, this time through Lichoceves and Statenice.


Kiya tries to stay on the trail. Actually, he's trying just to stay on his bike.

Not surprisingly (since we always seem to encounter at least one on every ride), we got honked at aggressively by some hot-headed young driver as he passed us outside of Lichoceves. I can't figure out what these drivers' beefs are. Yes, we may have been riding two abreast at that point, on a nearly deserted country road, but does that give him (yes, it's always a man) the right to behave like a d***head? Is it a show to prove how vulnerable we are out there on our bikes, while he's in his fortress on wheels?

We made the appropriate hand gestures to express our disapproval, as it were, and he slowed down as if to challenge us, but then sped off. (And no, our reaction had nothing to do with what we'd just drank. We're intolerate of such rude behavior by motorists pretty much anytime.)

One of these days we're going to get into a punch-up with one of these guys. In a way, I welcome that. In my experience, these d***heads act all tough when they're behind the wheel, but chicken out when the going gets tough.

Then again, what will be gained by that? Once a d***head, always a d***head. And why let a d***head ruin your ride?

Then again, they deserve to get their asses kicked.

I'm torn.

Anyway, the d***head sped off, and we ended up back in Černý Vůl. Mud-splattered, sweaty, and cold.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 17.5 kilometers
Average speed: 9.8 kph
Maximum speed: 48.4 kph
Time on the bike: 1.46.29
Pivo Index: 2
Whiskey Index: 3
Distance ridden so far in 2010: 33.5 kilometers

Reflections On My First Ride Of 2010

A quiet forest scene near Roztoky.

Glad to have done it, but also glad it’s over.

That was my reaction after completing my first ride of the new year. Hard to believe it took until March for that to happen. In fact, I hadn’t been on a bike for almost 100 days, since late November. That’s a record for me, at least in the past three or four years that I’ve been riding seriously.

I’ve prided myself on having ridden at least once in every month of the year – through snow and ice and mud and rain and cold. But this winter was just too brutal. Too much snow. Too cold. For too long. I just couldn’t face it, both for safety reasons and also because I just couldn’t muster the energy.

I found it even hard to bring myself to hop on the saddle this time. The sun was shining, remarkably, and most of the snow had melted, but it was still damn cold. And I must admit that I felt a odd twinge of nervousness, too. Would I still enjoy it? How out of shape would I be? I can’t quite explain it, but I felt I needed to get back on my bike, not out of enthusiasm but of obligation.

To break the ice, so to speak, I decided on a short solo run. Just to get a ride under my (every expanding) belt.

I figured I’d just ride from my home in Černý Vůl, a village on the western outskirts of Prague, to Roztoky, and cycle a little along the river path, and then back home again. Nothing too strenuous.

And that’s what I did.

Out of practice, I guess, I misjudged the warming rays of the sun and underdressed. I was freezing once I got out on the trails, especially through the shadows in the forest. And the river path was even worse. I couldn’t wait to get home and warm.

Not a lot happening on the trail on this day. Animal footprints in the snow. A few tits chirping in the bushes. And the late, great Koliba in Roztky still a sore sight for eyes, with no evidence of its rebuilding. (Does anyone know its future?)


Tracks through the snow on a pond near Černý Vůl.

I limped home, cold and stiff, from my short ride. Glad to have done it, but also glad it was over.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 16 kilometers
Time on the bike: 1 hour, 20 minutes
Average speed: 11.4 kph
Pivo Index: 0
Maximum speed: 33.7 kph
Distance ridden so far in 2010: 16 kilometers


The trail to Roztoky was still snow-covered and quite icy.


In the neighboring village of Únětice. Bright blue sky, a crumbling old chateau, and a satellite dish.