Grant's Prague Bike Blog

Harvest Of Hostility (or Potatoes Of Wrath, aka Malignant Tubers)

2012-01-08T16:38:00.005+02:00

This is the only photo I was able to take before all hell broke loose. Sadly, it doesn't do the scene justice.

Editor's Note: Until I get back on the bike, I'm reposting a few "classic" Prague Bike Blog posts. Here's one that people still mention to me. It's also one of my most commented posts. First published on September 15, 2008.

It's been a few days now, and we're still shaking our heads about it. They threw what at us? They yelled what at us?

It's unbelievable, and disappointing, but sadly, in the Czech Republic, not all that surprising.

Stewart and I were out for a ride on a cool, crisp, breezy, but sunny Saturday. A perfect day for a bike ride. The smell of fall in the air -- wood smoke and rotting apples.

We met at The Smallest Pub In The World in Úholičky, kinda halfway between my home in Černý Vůl and his house in Roztoky. (It was closed, but I did notice that they sell half-liters of Gambrinus for 18 CZK (about $1.06), one of the lowest I've seen this season.)

From there, we headed up the hill to Tursko, and then followed some familiar country roads in the direction of Holubice.

Some of the beautiful trails and landscape near the villages of Hole and Okor (above and below).

We're always keeping an eye out for a trail we haven't taken before, and on the way to Holubice we passed a dirt road or tractor tracks heading into some farmer's fields. We took it.

And after a kilometer or so we came across a pastoral scene -- a group of five or six men and women all bent over in a field, harvesting potatoes. They were digging in the earth, and we could hear the dirty potatoes falling into the buckets with dull thuds. At least one of the women -- a woman of some years -- was wearing a country dress and had a colorful kerchief tied evocatively around her head.

It was a painting come to life. Indeed, many famous artists have chosen to immortalize the acts of picking or harvesting or gathering -- olive pickers, cotton pickers, potato pickers, apple pickers, hop pickers, berry pickers.

"Potato Pickers," by the French artist Maurice de Vlaminck (oil on canvas, 1905-7).

We stopped our bikes and admired the scene and remarked at how it truly was a painting come to life. We took a few photographs.

That's when one of the men who was harvesting the potatoes started yelling at us. We couldn't quite make out what he said, though. Just that he was mad. And get this. He whipped a couple of potatoes at us as he yelled, trying to hit us.

What the *$#@&???!!!

Then the old woman in the kerchief starting yelling at us, too. Our Czech isn't great, but we could make out the words "work" and "potatoes" and "foreigners."

For reasons that still baffle me, these folks were really pissed off. Was it because we had stopped to admire their work and take a few pictures? Did they resent us because we weren't helping? Because we were speaking a foreign language? Because we didn't ask permission before we took a few photos?

I'm sorry, but I simply can't comprehend such an incident happening in any other country.

Imagine: You're touring the wine country of Tuscany and you stop to take a few photos of the grape harvest, when all of a sudden the Italians start chucking bunches of grapes at you and yelling for you to get the hell out.

Imagine: You're touring the wild west coast of Ireland and you stop to watch men slicing peat from the black earth. You take a few photographs, only to discover the men lobbing wet hunks of peat in your direction and yelling at you to get lost.

I saw a post on a forum on expats.cz the other day that was titled: Do Czechs Hate Foreigners?
It saddens me to say it, but I easily understand where such questions come from. All of us who've lived here have our stories. And yes, I know many, many wonderful Czechs (and I even met one later on in this same ride).

But it seems to me that the true test of the personality of a people is not how they treat friends, but how they treat strangers. In this regard, the Czechs fail miserably most, but not all, of the time.

How did Stewart and I react?

Firstly, we were pretty stunned to have someone throwing stuff at us.

Our second reaction was to basically say to them, "What's your problem? What did we do?"

When then didn't work, we just started smiling broadly and waving at them and wishing them a "hesky den," or a good day, and saying "nashledanou" (goodbye) in bright, cheerful voices.

What else could we do?

We rode off, not sure whether to be pissed off or amused. I guess we were a little of both.

From there, we headed toward the village of Hole, and from there through some lovely fields and forests, until we ended up somewhere behind the village of Okoř.

We sat outside in the sun and downed a couple of cold beers at the Family Hotel Okoř, our usual watering hole.

Then it was back home for both of us.

On the way home, I passed a woman selling apples at a roadside stand. More importantly, she was also selling apple cider. At first, I thought it was burcak, the young, sweet, partially fermented wine that's also in season at the moment.

I love apple cider, having grown up in the northeast United States, and I have never really seen it in the Czech Republic. I really miss it and was very excited to see it for sale.

The woman was extremely friendly (wiping out the bad thoughts in my brain from The Potato Incident) and sold me two 1.5-liter bottles for 30 CZK each.

It was absolutely delicious. I gotta go back for more.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 31 kilometers
Average speed: 13.8 kph
Maximum speed: 42.4 kph
Pivo Index: 2
Time on the bike: 2.10.30
Distance ridden so far in 2008: 1,208 kilometers

This woman selling apples and cider by the road almost wiped out my memories of the Potato People.

I almost ran over this gigantic caterpillar on the road, like an orange speed bump. I picked it up and put him in the grass. Anyone know what kind of a caterpillar this is?

I think this window was in the vowel-deficient village of Svrkyne.

I liked the geometry in this scene in Úholičky.

This dog was barking at us from on high.

What's Flat And Warm And Has A Beard?

2012-01-01T22:58:00.003+02:00

The view of Alachua Lake, part of Paynes Prairie Preserve State Park, near Gainesville, Florida. The "lake" was, indeed, once covered in about 5 feet of water. Today, buffalo roam where low-draft steamboats once traveled.

Editor's Note: I'm in the United States for a holiday visit, and haven't had a chance to ride or post lately. So I thought I'd rerun some "classic" posts from years past. I'm currently visiting relatives in Gainesville, Florida. Here's a post about Gainesville, written after my last visit here in October 2007.

I should have made my first attempt at a century in Florida.

Daisy, Emma and I flew to Gainesville, in central Florida, on Oct. 22 (Daisy's birthday) to visit Daisy's parents, and to take Emma, who's 7, to Disney World and Sea World during her fall break from the International School of Prague.

We had a great time. Gainesville's a cool college town, and the University of Florida just happens to hold the national football and basketball championships simultaneously at the moment, the first time that's ever happened in college sports. It's also a bike-friendly city, with cycling lanes gracing most of the city's streets. And the weather was warm -- around 75 to 80 degrees Fahrenheit (around 25 degrees Celsius) -- and humid, although overcast for many of the days we were there.

I did manage to ride one day during my visit, borrowing a mountain bike from Daisy's father, Paul, who had a nice Mongoose Maneuver hanging in his garage. I pumped up the tires, gave the gears and chain a few squirts of oil, and I was off to tackle the Gainesville-Hawthorne Trail State Park, which everyone had recommended.

The trail used to be a railroad line. The tracks were removed, and the line paved, and it's now used by cyclists, rollerbladers, walkers and folks on horseback, who ride in the grass along the pavement. Before it was a railroad, it was a trader's path that the website says dates back to Seminole Indians and Florida's first inhabitants.

The trail starts in Boulware Springs Park in Gainesville and ends 16.2 miles (26 kilometers) later in the town of Hawthorne. In between, it passes through Paynes Prairie Preserve State Park and the Lochloosa Wildlife Management Area.

The 16-mile trail follows an old rail bed.

It was warm and overcast on Sunday (October 28), and it felt great just to be out on a bike in a T-shirt and shorts, after enduring the frigid temperatures in Prague. It's was also cool to be biking in such an exotic environment, past swaying palms, Southern live oaks dripping with long beards of Spanish moss, and cypress trees oozing upward out of primordial swamps where alligators are known to dwell.

It was also both wonderfully refreshing, and rather odd, to be cycling on a path that was 16 miles long but which was completely, entirely, and totally flat. Rob and I should have come here to take our first stabs at a "century" -- that is, 100 miles in a single ride. All centuries are not created equal.

I saw a red-shouldered hawk (right) sitting in a tree along the trail, and what I believe was a flock of wild turkeys. I passed a few cyclists, and one woman on horseback. Other than that, I had the entire trail to myself. I had a great time. It would have been cool to have seen a 'gator, though.

(We did paddle past four or five alligators during a canoe trip on the Oklawaha River, about an hour outside Gainesville. Not only that, we also caught a glimpse of the wild rhesus monkeys that live in the forest along the river, as well as innumerable turtles and herons and a few kingfishers.)

The highlight of the ride occurred when I took a spur off the main trail that said it led to the Alachua Lake Overlook (see photo at top). I expected to see a lake, of course, but what I found at the end of the spur was a wooden platform that looked out on the vast Paynes Prairie State Park -- all 21,000 acres (8,500 hectares) of it. It's 8 miles (13 kilometers) long and 1 to 4 miles wide, and is home to bison and sandhill cranes and alligators and almost 300 species of birds.

I borrowed this Mongoose Maneuver from Daisy's dad, Paul. It did the trick.

Apparently, the sinkhole that drains the prairie became blocked back in the late 19th century, causing the prairie to flood, creating an immense, shallow lake. Difficult to imagine today, but low-draft steamboats used to ply the waters of Alachua Lake until the sinkhole opened again in 1892 and the lake drained dry. It's said that the event triggered massive fish fries by the locals, but who were eventually overwhelmed by the stench of thousands of dead fish rotting in the prairie.

Florida is a lovely state, and it was a great pleasure to get out in it, and there was no better way to do that than on a bike.

The folks running the Gainesville-Hawthorne Trail just need to consider putting a pub or two along the route!

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 53.5 kilometers
Distance ridden so far in 2007: 1,744.5 kilometers

The boardwalk above led off the paved trail to an overlook (below) amid lush cypress trees and wetlands. This is where I thought I might see an alligator or two, but no such luck.

A picturesque picnic spot at the end of the trail in Hawthorne.

Some local color seen along the trail (above and below).

Dangerous curve ahead.

Bike Blog Redux: Horse Latitudes

2011-12-05T10:23:00.003+02:00

Stewart and I stop for a couple of shots of medovina in the middle of nowhere.

Editor's Note: I've been off the bike for some time, due to bad weather, no time (we've just moved from our house in Cerny Vul to a flat in Prague 6) or, in some cases, sheer laziness. Until I get back out there, I thought I'd republish a few classic posts from around this same time. This story originally ran on December 28, 2008.

What I'd always feared finally happened.

I came racing down along a woodline from an overgrown field onto a dirt path or road, and surprised a group of five or six horses and riders, who were about 30 meters away.

The horse in front of the pack, surprised by my sudden appearance, spooked, and reared up. The rider -- a young woman -- tried valiantly to keep the horse under control, but couldn't, and fell, hard, onto the frozen mud track and between some trees.

I froze as it was happening, not wanting to spook the horse any further, and felt helpless as the woman fell, hard, seemingly in slow motion. The horse was riderless, and none of the others dismounted to help the woman, who remained motionless on the ground.

You can just make out the five horses and riders in the center left of this picture. I didn't want to make matters worse by taking out my camera and clicking away while they were right in front of me.

I feared moving forward to help her, or to grab the horse, not wanted to make matters worse by spooking the other horses, or frightening the riderless horse enough to make him bolt.

In the end, the woman stood up -- she said she was unhurt, though I'm sure she was bruised the next day -- and grabbed the reins, and Stewart, who had advanced, held the horse while the woman remounted.

The group passed us, and continued down the trail. They didn't really say much to us as they passed. I thought it strange that none of the men had gotten off their horses to help the woman who fell. Maybe there's some unwritten law or something.

I felt bad for having scared the horses, but the trail we were on -- indeed, all of the trails in this area -- are shared by both bikers and horse riders, and encounters like this seem inevitable.

Fortunately, no one was hurt. Stewart and I hung back for a few minutes to let them get ahead, and continued ourselves on our ride.

As usual, Stewart and I had met at the Smallest Pub In The World in Úholičky and set off on a cold, gray day. I was feeling a little better about riding than I did on my last, depressive outing. We headed out of Uholicky and up the hill toward Tursko, with the intention of visiting the archaeological dig we'd discovered a few weeks back in Holubice, to check on any progress.

It was gone.

Covered over. Construction site. Laying some sort of pipe or sewage system. Too bad, really. Our guess is that when such things are uncovered during construction, they must be mapped and recorded, but then can legally be covered back over.

There used to be an archaeological dig on this construction site.

In any event, all the cool stuff we'd seen a month or so was gone.

We rode and talked, talked more than rode in some parts, explored unexplored paths and dirt roads, stopped in the middle of a huge field and had a few shots of medovina, basically a modern version of medieval mead. I'd brought a flask of the stuff, which we'd first tasted on an outing to the Bee Institute a few months back.

The middle of nowhere, somewhere near the village of Holubice.

It's smooth and sweet and delicious, but I think next time I'll bring the usual bourbon or whiskey/whisky. Need more of a bite out there on the trail in the cold and raw.

As usual, we behaved like kids as often as possible, in this case aiming squarely for all of the frozen puddles on the trails. The sound of our tires slicing through the ice sounded like some large, thick piece of cloth being ripped from end to end. As often as not, there was a pool of cold water beneath, and our feet got a bit wet in the process, especially Stewart's. He had a fine old time bunny-hopping his bike from the trail into the puddles, sending shards of ice and ribbons of muddy water flying.

By this time, our feet and fingers were cold. Or at least mine were.

We ended up, of course, in the restaurant at the Family Hotel Okoř, one of our favorite biking stops. Decorated for the holidays, it was the definition of cozy. (By the way, they serve the best steaks in Prague, in my opinion. Daisy and I go there for dinner a few times a month.)

As darkness swiftly fell, Stewart and I holed up inside, warming ourselves with good conversation and, not inconsequentially, three glasses of Ballantine's whisky and a half-liter of beer each. We also had a nice chat with our favorite waiter at the hotel, Tomas. He deserves a separate blog entry all to himself, which I must do sometime. Great guy. I keep forgetting to take his picture while I'm there.

Nice and toasted -- er, I mean, toasty -- Stewart and I headed back out on our bikes.

By this time, it was bitterly cold and pitch dark, and I had neglected to bring a headlight. Stewart had a tiny clip-on headlight, and I had my flashing back light, so he rode ahead and I rode behind.

It's fun to crunch through all the iced-over puddles.

Funny where you find yourself sometimes. Here we were, riding on an empty country road in the middle of nowhere in total blackness and in the freezing cold. We could only laugh.

We parted ways in Velké Přílepy, Stewart heading home to Roztoky, me to Černý Vůl. Truth be told, I had trouble even seeing the road from that point on, it was so dark.

For the first time, I was actually thankful for the occasional car, so that its headlights could remind me where the edge of the road stopped and who-knows-what began.

I managed to stay on the pavement and made it home in one piece. So did Stewart, eventually. He had quite a bit further to ride than I did.

A memorable ride, which helped to put the bad memories of my previous outings out of mind.

But I gotta get my headlight hooked up. Jeesh.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 30 kilometers
Average speed: 12.3 kph (!)
Maximum speed: 35.6 kph
Pivo Index: 1 beer, 3 glasses of whisky
Time on the bike: 2.25.24
Distance ridden so far in 2008: 1,393.5 kilometers (866 miles)

The Restaurant Okor (above and below) is always a welcome sight, but never more so than on this cold and raw night.

While I was waiting for Stewart in Uholicky, I stopped to admire this building, whose architect has, like me, a soft spot for trees.

Let 'Er Říp

2011-10-28T14:00:00.020+02:00

The Nelahozeves Castle, reflected in the Vltava.

On the heels of our epic ride to Mělník, the boys decided to ride from Prague to Říp.

Říp (pronounced ZHEEP) is the legendary hill that rises almost 500 meters up from the flatlands north of Prague. If you live in these parts, you've seen it, even if you didn't know what it was. It's believed that Říp is where the first Slavs settled. It's a distinctive part of the landscape in these parts, the remains of an old volcano.

Stewart and I had driven to Říp on a winter's day a few years ago and hiked to the top, which turned out to be a lot of fun but not the most strenuous hike.

Cycling to the top would be a different matter, however.

We met early one morning in the village of Statenice -- not far from my house in Černý Vůl -- and headed off to Okoř. On this ride would be Stewart Moore, David Murphy, Rob Coalson, and a new addition to our riding circle, Marian Opletal. Though it's a traditional watering hole for our brood, we decided it was a bit too early for a beer in Okoř.

From Okoř, we headed the back route toward Zakolany. The guys decided to head up the hill to the ancient settlement site of Budec, a grueling climb. I decided to save my legs and took the road route to Zakolany and would meet them there.

Once in Zakolany, I spied a pub that had already opened its doors and went in and ordered myself a beer.

No sooner had I taken a sip than my phone rang. It was Stewart.

"Have you ordered a beer yet?" he asked.

"Just did."

"You won't believe this, but there's a big festival going on up here. Pig on a spit. Beer. Get your ass up here."

Now, the funny thing is, we had been joking just a few minutes before about how beautiful Budec is but how nothing ever seems to happen up there. About how cool it would be if there was a pub up there and we could enjoy a few cold ones to reward us for the climb. It never occurred to me that Stewart, with his call, could have been playing a practical joke to get me to cycle up there. So naive.

I inhaled my beer, hopped on my bike, and made the even steeper climb to Budec from the Zakolany side. So much for saving my legs.

We were surprised to find a Renaissance festival in full swing at the ancient settlement site known as Budec.

Some of the food from olden times on sale at the fair in Budec (above and below).

Fortunately, Stewart wasn't kidding.

Indeed, there was a huge Renaissance festival happening up there -- ham roasting over open fires, archery and crossbow classes, arts and crafts for sale, a metalsmith, a sword-fighting demonstration. And beer.

We had a couple of cold ones, and I enjoyed a plate of freshly roasted ham, mustard and brown bread.

What a fantastic thing to find.

Ham roasting on an open fire. So good. Say what you want about Czech cuisine, they know their ham.

Beers at Marina Vltava (from left, Rob Coalson, David Murphy, Marian Opletal, Stewart Moore, and me).

From Budec, it was back to Zakolany, and then along a back route to Kralupy that Stewart and I had cycled a few times coming from the opposite direction. It's a fantastic trail, one of my favorites, even though I'm not sure I could find my way if Stewart wasn't riding with me. He discovered it many years ago. There are no cars, for the most part -- just leafy trails through beautiful forest on a ride that defines what mountain biking is all about.

In Kralupy, we headed up to Nelahozeves to have a few more beers at Marina Vltava.

By this time, it was around 1, as I remember it. It had taken us something like four hours to ride 25 kilometers!

The plan was to have lunch in Říp. Based on our last ride to Mělník, I knew that a trip to Říp was likely to be an all-day affair, even though the kilometer total isn't all that high. Lunch would likely be around 3 or 4 p.m.

I had things to do and couldn't afford to get home so late. I rode with the guys for a bit longer, north of Marina Vltava, then crossed over to the east side of the Vltava and headed back toward Roztoky. I waved goodbye as they set off for Říp.

As I understand it, they didn't get back to Prague until 10 p.m. or so that night, after getting lost and having to take the train home for at least part of the way. I'm hoping some of my cycling pals will write about their adventures so the full story of the Ride to Říp can be told.

As for me, I had a great ride back to Roztoky along the infamous Baker Falls trail. I sucked down another beer before taking the ferry across to the west side of the river. I took the path from Roztoky to Unetice and then home to Černý Vůl.

Truth be told, I was whipped and secretly glad I didn't have to face the ride back to Prague from Říp. But I have a feeling I missed out on some great adventures.

Watch this space.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 60 kilometers
Average speed: 15.7 kph
Maximum speed: 43.9 kph
Time on the bike: 3.46.24
Pivo Index: 5
Distance ridden so far in 2011: 452 kilometers

Stewart's new Mongoose on its maiden voyage.

I got a kick out of this. At the Renaissance Fair at Budec, kids got to use washboards to clean clothes, as if it was some sort of fun thing to do in your spare time.

I also got a kick out of the crossbow demonstration. Kids got to fire real arrows from a real crossbow at a target about 20 meters away. I'm not sure this type of thing would ever be allowed in the United States, for example. Too bad. Very cool. Wish I could have fired a crossbow when I was 9 years old.

Dew on field grass near Budec.

When I was riding alone to Zakolany, I spotted this giant cracked concrete pipe. For some odd reason, I decided to stop, climb inside and take a photo. I'm weird.

The boys at Castle Okoř, early in the ride.

The lovely ride down into the village of Okoř.

Cycling In Moravia

2011-10-05T20:08:00.005+03:00

Atop Castle Orphanus.

Every time Daisy and I would drive by the ridiculously picturesque Czech town of Mikulov, usually on our way to or from Vienna, I'd always turn to her and say, "We've definitely got to visit that place sometime."

From afar and up close, Mikulov looks what a Hollywood designer would create if asked to come up with a romantic European hilltop town - a high castle and tower, surrounded by a sea of orange tiled roofs, the surrounding countryside upholstered by the region's famous vineyards, a large cobblestoned central square dominated by a clocktower.

Mikulov's Dietrichstein castle, which was almost completely destroyed in World War II and later restored to its former glory.

Daisy and I had a free weekend recently, so we decided to head down to Mikulov for some cycling, which I'd always heard was fantastic in that area, and some sipping. Mikulov is about a 2.5 hour drive from Prague, near the Austrian border.

Based on the recommendations of a few of our friends, we booked a room in the very comfortable Hotel Templ, a former 16th century synagogue. No sooner had we checked in on a beautiful sunny September day than we on our bikes, heading out into the countryside, a few borrowed bike maps in my backpack.

Harvest time. I must confess that we picked and ate a few grapes, juicy and warmed by the sun.

I had this notion that as soon as we headed out of town, we'd be presented with our choice of cycling trails through acres and acres of vineyards, cellar doors thrown open and tasting opportunities at every turn.

It wasn't quite like that.

The main road out of town and toward the other famous wine city of Valtice was quite busy, with trucks and cars flying past us at a good clip. I didn't see -- on the map or with my own eyes -- any other obvious trails through the vineyards. We cycled to Sedlec and then decided to head off the main road and follow a sign for what seemed like a vineyard selling wine and food. It turned out to be a good move, for we found ourselves on a lovely cycling paved path skirting Lake Nesyt.

We were happy to see this sign -- wine tasting and sales in Sedlec.

The vineyard turned out to be a wooden shack selling local wines by the bottle or the glass, and a separate, rather sad, snack window selling grilled sausages and fries. Napa Valley, it wasn't. But the wine was crisp and delicious and inexpensive, and the snack window offered a giant jar of sour (not sweet) pickles, which Daisy loves and which are simply unavailable in the Czech Republic.

We were on our bikes, the sun was shining, and we were drinking local wine. We'd gotten what we came for.

Not exactly Napa Valley, but the wine was cold and crisp, and the pickles were sour.

We continued riding along Lake Nesyt and then cut up a dirt road through vineyards bursting with red and white grapes. We connected with another busy country road and slowly cycled back to Mikulov.

It wasn't a long ride (around 20 kilometers), but it fit the bill. Then it was back to the hotel for a walk around the castle in the gloaming and then a somewhat uninspired dinner at the hotel, enlivened by a nice bottle of Gala Chardonnay-Pinot 2008, from the nearby village of Bavory.

Here are the trails we followed. I forgot to turn on my Garmin until we'd made it to Sedlec, so that's why things kick off there, rather than Mikulov itself:

The next morning, we decided to head toward a castle ruin in the Pavlova Hills that I'd spied from the road coming in. It wasn't a long ride to the 13th-century Castle Orphanus, but from Mikulov the route was almost entirely uphill. There were a few good climbs in there, and Daisy was hurting (I almost titled this post Whine Country). I'm not a great hill climber (in fact, I'm horrible), but I was doing OK. Daisy just hasn't been riding lately.

The ruins of the 13th-century Castle Orphanus.

She was framed, I tells ya!

The castle ruins, perched high above the surrounding plains, turned out to be worth the slog (although the road leading up to the castle was too steep to ride). We could see forever, and who doesn't like a good European castle ruin? We clambered all over those crumbling stones, headed into the nearby village of Klentnice for a beer or two at a roadside snackbar, and then rode almost all downhill (wheeeeeee!) for the 10k or so back to Mikulov.

Once in Mikulov, we cycled to the city's famous Jewish cemetery. The city's Jewish heritage dates back some 650 years, credited to Mikulov's location on an important trade route from Vienna to Brno. World War II put an end to all that. There are some 4,000 tombstones in the cemetery, which is almost 20,000 square meters (five acres) in size, the largest in the country. The oldest legible marker dating from 1605. There's also a fascinating little museum outside the gates to the cemetery. Highly recommended.

There are some 4,000 tombstones in the city's Jewish cemetery.

Lichen on a tombstone.

We had a great time on our short visit to Mikulov, but I can't help but think we missed some fantastic cycling trails. I'm talking about dedicated cycling paths, not trails that follow roads. I perused the cycling maps, but the marked trails all seemed to follow some fairly major highways.

I'd like to go back and try to find the paths that we missed. I'd welcome any tips you may have.

(For more about Mikulov and the surrounding towns and castles, read my friend Evan Rail's fantastic article in "The New York Times.")

RIDE STATS
Length of rides: 38.5 kilometers
Average speed: 12.5 kph
Maximum speed: 51.1 kph
Distance ridden so far in 2011: 392 kilometers

A stand selling burcak, the very young, cloudy effervescent wine that's an autumn tradition in the Czech Republic.

A scene near Mikulov's main square.

The view of Mikulov coming back into the city from Klentnice.

As we were cycling down from Castle Orphanus, a group of horseback riders was making its way up the mountain.

The rolling Moravian countryside as seen from Castle Orphanus.

A street scene in Mikulov.

Beneath the walls of the castle.

An interesting sculpture below the castle walls is silhouetted against the setting sun.

On a Mikulov street.

Vineyards near Sedlec, with Lake Nesyt in the distance.

Daisy on a trail through the vineyards.

I'm guessing this is a defensive bunker dating from World War II, but I'm not totally sure. Along the bike path near Lake Nesyt.

The fantastic cycling trail along Lake Nesyt.

The Hotel Templ in Mikulov.

The Perfect Bike Ride (Prague to Mělník)

2011-09-15T21:36:00.020+03:00

The boys, outside of Mělník.

Where to begin?

Stewart Moore, Mark Nessmith, David Murphy, Rob Coalson, and I met in Klecany on Sunday. We were to meet a new cycling pal, an acting friend of Stew's and mine named Peter Hosking, in Kralupy, for an ambitious ride to the wine town of Mělník, north of Prague.

We thought we'd get in a good ride on a path new to most of us, sample some burčák, the prepubescent Czech wine that's on offer at this time of year, have lunch, drink a few beers, enjoy a sunny day, and sleep well that night.

Well, we did all that, and more. It was quite an adventure -- a 12-hour adventure, in the end.

My Garmin ran out of juice just before we arrived in Mělník, but this gives you an idea of our route:

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 95 kilometers
Average speed: 17.2 kph
Maximum speed: 47.2 kph
Pivo Index: 6 (!)
Time on the bike: 5.26.02
Distance ridden so far in 2011: 353.5 kilometers

Rather than me babbling on and on as usual, I asked my cycling companions if they'd be interested in contributing their own impressions of the ride for the blog. I'm honored to share their contributions with you. Enjoy.

DAVID MURPHY

It’s beginning to look a lot like Austria, everywhere you ride.

It’s nice to see our tax crowns at work and almost unimaginable that they would be at work doing something that we actually want. But as the famous baseball manager Casey Stengel once said, "I always heard it couldn't be done, but sometimes that don't work out."

And not work out it did well in the case of the new Vrbno–Hořín-Dolní Beřkovice-Horní Počaply cycle path.

Putting together this ride was a bit of a challenge since Stewart hates to ride on roads. I tried to put together an itinerary where we would spend most of time free of cars, and I was hoping this path would be completed to make that possible. Twice last year, Rob and I rode this stretch when it was still under construction and in varying stages of completion, so we were curious to see if it had finally been finished.

Completed it is, and it is a pleasure to ride.

The path runs for 18 kilometers connecting the "the mainland," or far bank of the Vltava, with the Mělník castle.

After riding a beautiful stretch of road on the Vltava flood plain, passing through hops fields and picturesque villages, we reached the path after crossing the gas pipeline bridge over the Vltava just outside the village of Zálezlice. There is a plaque at the trail head listing the various contributors to its construction.

We rode to the village of Vrbno and continued along the riverbank and inland wetlands, through fields of sunflowers, to the village of Hořín (where a small pub serves a very fine Krakonoš beer). After a brief stop, we continued through the castle park to the bridge to Mělník, completing a 7-kilometer ride on the path.

An unassuming roadside watering hole served the delicious Krakonoš beer.

While we chose to cross the river to Mělník for burgers and other aspects of the local culture, the path itself continues north past Mělník for another 12 kilometers to the town of Horní Počaply, where the massive coal-fired power plant is located.

The path is not only well-constructed, runs through a beautiful landscape, and connects quaint villages with nice pubs, it also has an interesting story. According to an article in a local paper, the idea for the cycle path originated more than 15 years ago at the power plant. Employees wanted to cycle to work, but the roads leading to and from the power plant were too dangerous. They pushed management to negotiate with local municipalities to design and fund the path.

In 2008, local mayors created an association of municipalities and successfully brought in EU structural funding to finance construction.

The total budget for the 18.6-kilometer path was 80 million CZK, which the paper points out is a bargain compared to 150 million CZK for the 3-kilometer path in Prague known as Europe’s Most Expensive Cycle Route.

However, the sandy soil of the flood plain proved too unstable, so ČEZ, the local energy giant and owner of the power plant, donated 12,000 tons of stabilizing material to create landfill in the weaker sections.

The path lies in the trajectory of the international cycle route Eurovelo 7 connecting Scandinavia with southern Italy and Malta and is known as The Sun Route. It is also part of the Elbe River Trail, which connects to Germany.

Locals hope that the trail will help strengthen local tourism. If the trail and the Krakonoš are any indication, their hopes are well-founded.

PETER HOSKING

Having never ridden more than 30 kilometers in a day, I have to say I was pretty apprehensive about going out with the big boys.

In order to feel a little better about my chances, I chose to train it to Kralupy and meet them there. Either by good luck or good planning, we arrived together almost to the minute, at 10.15 a.m. A few introductions and we were on our way.

I was just settling in to the first stretch along the left bank of the Vltava when the first beer stop was called. At this stage, I’d done about 2 kilometers, whereas everyone else had done between 25 and 40, depending on which part of Prague
they had ridden from. I didn’t feel qualified (or confident) enough for beer at that stage, so I settled for ledový caj (iced tea) and listened to the discussion about the propensity of rivers to always flow south, or not.

Have to say the sequence of things is all a bit of a blur for me after that, but we stopped at an impressive zamek, rode through some beautiful countryside, carried the bikes up a lot of stairs to cross a channel via a gas pipeline bridge, tasted Krakonoš at a little pub outside Mělník, and I was forced to get off and walk halfway up the steep hill to the town center.

This wasn’t too demoralizing, as I wasn’t the only one to do so.

We had lunch at the Buffalo restaurant in Mělník, an American-style restaurant that featured the Ultimate Monster Burger (very good, but nearly impossible to eat without fork and knife, and some very respectable hot chicken wings. Man, that burger hit the spot.

Lunch was huge hamburgers all round, except for me. I tried the lunch special of ribs. Unfortunately, they were old and dry. And the hamburgers were soooo good, as I was told gleefully many times over the rest of the day.

The hunt for burčák was fruitless (or should I say wineless?), but to soften the blow it was decided to sample a bottle of local wine before we left. Then it was back in the saddle and homeward.

We couldn't leave Mělník without sampling some grape stuff.

Somewhere around the pipe bridge crossing again, I was surprised to find that I was craving the rehydrating effects that it was claimed flow from a single beer. Shortly thereafter, a halt was called in order to sample the Holba at a nice little pub with a large grassy area.

We left there, and I never saw Stewart again. Something to do with the spontaneous combustion of his bicycle. We regrouped, and timed it nicely to the Kralupy train. I got home, walked the dog, had a little more rehydration, and passed out for about 10 hours.

Great day, great sense of accomplishment (67 kilometers) and soooo glad it was an easy (as in not-too-hilly) ride.

Thanks, guys, for the opportunity.

Mělník is an impressive sight.

STEWART MOORE

We went to Mělník by bike years ago on old paths, long since forgotten or untended. This new route, however, satisfies the extremes of our group better than any other. I favor trails, but they are not for everyone. This route had everything and none of the cars that drove me to trail-riding in the first place. As well as safe from reckless drivers, it's also -- for the most part -- flat, and for that probably one of the best routes I can think of to introduce your kids to the pleasures of cycling...with plenty of places along the way to stop and get a bite and something to drink.

As a cyclist, I often think I find places of interest I wouldn't otherwise see, but this route proved I'm just as likely to miss them. Last time, we came very close to the wonderful gardens at Veltrusy chateau and missed them entirely. We were too busy, perhaps, hacking our way through the shrub to see this great spot!

I returned to Veltrusy the next morning to make this sketch in red wine. This is the back of the chateau, a side we did not see on the ride:

But back then, there was no path connecting the farm roads and so no logical reason to head that way to Mělník. But what a splendid route this new one is, with huge fields and scattered poplars reminiscent of Tuscany -- apt, as we were heading into wine country. In fact, Rob pointed out it was "the border of wine and beer country." We must have ran back and forth over that border several times by days end!

The view from the castle in Mělník -- the confluence of the Vltava and the Elbe rivers.

I had a few problems on this ride, and Mark wasn't the only one to have issues with his chain. The first at about 9:30 a.m. while riding the "Baker Falls" trail along the east side of the Vltava. I hit a tree root and went over the handle bars. It's a challenge to ride this section of path without dismounting.

I wear protective eyewear because in the past I've been hit with bugs and branches on the trails. They've been a big help. But at Baker Falls they were mucky and I think blinded me a little. Anyway, I think my back wheel was damaged here.

I took my Camelbak with me and I was very glad of it. If you don't know this type of backpack, it has a bladder for water and a tube to drink from that attaches to your shoulder. Very handy to be able to drink on the go, especially when you're stuck far from anything, as I was at the end of the day.

Another problem: my back brake had begun failing me again. It was essentially useless this time out. I'd hoped Dave knew some magical solution, but nothing he did worked.

On our ride back, as we headed home, I changed gear and my chain came off. It caught in the wheel and tore into the spokes, breaking a bunch of them. Mark lent me a pair of handy fold-up pliers to remove the broken spokes. But they screw out easily by hand from the wheel rim, so that was fine.

(Photo by Mark Nessmith)

I said I'd get a taxi. I didn't want to hold anyone up and I still hoped to ride on. We weren't sure it was safe to ride with a wheel that was missing so many spokes. I watched the rest of the guys disappear along a road lined with apple trees and thought about a train home. My iPhone showed no station nearby. Riding wasn't an option. The wheel was so bent it wouldn't even move.

However, I realized that if I cut the tread off, I might get the wheel rolling. I used my penknife and I shaved off all the treads on one side of the wheel - and it spun! I was in business again and could manage to slowly ride back to Kralupy.

(Photo by Stewart Moore)

It was a waste of a tire, but as Grant has said, the sound of my tires on the road is like "a swarm of bees." They are only good for mud and I need something intermediate now.

In the process of fixing the bike, I cut my thumb. Damned bloody, too, and it wouldn't quit. I'll be carrying a first-aid kit next time, as we have cut ourselves from time to time. Once when I fell in the rain (pre-blog) or when Grant hit the hole on the Bakerloo run. Or, in fact, when Baker himself gave name to the Falls trail.

(Photo by Stewart Moore)

On this occasion, I cored an apple and stuck my thumb in to make a fruity bandage. By pressing into the flesh of the apple I could close the wound for the rest of the ride.

As it turned dark, I noticed my halogen light was missing. It must have been a fellow cyclist, as only cyclists get anywhere near my bike. What a crumb. Imagine doing that to someone? Well, scumbag, whoever you are, enjoy. That lamp is packed with serious voodoo and it's all going your way!

As I rode along on my broken bike, with my gashed thumb, missing lamp, no mates, and only the moon for company, I realised I couldn't have been happier! We'd had a fantastic day, thanks to Dave sourcing such a great and surprisingly beautiful route.

We set out around 9 a.m. and I caught a train back from Kralupy (27 CZK for me, 25 CZK for the Bike) and was home for 10 p.m. that night.

MARK NESSMITH

I think I speak for Grant, Dave, Stewart, Rob and Peter, when I say that -- just like Chuck Yeager in his prime, the Navy SEALS, shark wranglers, and guys who parachute into disgusting countries to deliver needed food or something -- I spend a lot of time answering the question of WHY I DO WHAT I DO.

Why do I subject myself once, sometimes TWICE per year, with little to no training or preparation, to saddle up and ride my bike 80-100 kilometers through the Czech countryside?

On this latest grueling trek all the way from Prague to Mělník and then back to Kralupy nad Vltavou (where I wussed out and caught a train to cover the last 20 kilometers), I took a brief detour up onto a mountaintop and gave some thought to the very question.

Is it because the open road calls, bringing always a new vista or horizon, a new challenge, a new sense of accomplishment?

Is it the exhilaration of the (comparatively) clean air out in the fields and woods filling my lungs as the sun beats down on my body, my heart pounds and my thighs pump harder and harder to get up this hill, refusing to even consider the possibility that over this hill is yet another?

Is it the smug superiority gained knowing that countless city dwellers are locked in their four walls, trapped by their sidewalks and metros and trams, yearning to break free and see the things we see all around us on a ride?

Or is it because there's beer and no kids?

Take a good guess, Einstein.

The boys on the road. (Photo by Peter Hosking)

Beers and Ultimate Monster Burgers at the Buffalo restaurant in Mělník. (Photo by Peter Hosking)

The Buffalo restaurant features a cool quote by Czech writer Bohumil Hrabal ("I Served The King of England") painted on the wall. It says: "...that’s why for me drinking beer is a sacred time, and I firmly believe that a pub and the table inside enjoy the right of asylum, as in olden times when you could run into a church and they couldn’t kill you there!" (Translation by Katarina Solikova)

The Buffalo restaurant also serves Holba, another beer, like Krakonoš, that I'd never tasted before. Yummy.

A makeshift shrine in Mělník's main square to the three Czech hockey players who died in the tragic plane crash in Yaroslavl, Russia, a few weeks ago. The entire Yaroslavl hockey team died in the crash.

Colorful architecture in Mělník's town square.

We passed through an unfortunately named village.

Mělník on the horizon.

The perfect bike path.

Crossing the Vltava over a pipeline bridge south of Mělník.

Believe it or not, a retirement home in the wilds south of Mělník.

Veltrusy chateau.

Cycling doesn't get any better than this.

Crossing the Vltava above Nelahozeves.

Our first hydration of the day, at Marina Vltava north of Kralupy.

An old-school shop in Kralupy, which looks like it hasn't changed one iota since before the Velvet Revolution.

On the way from Klecany to Kralupy.

A chainsaw sculpture at the Klecany ferry crossing.

The ferryman from Roztoky to Klecany delivered Stewart and me and our bikes on the east bank, and then picked up his guitar and started strumming in the sun.

As Mark described it, our "unnecessary beer," on the way home from Mělník. (Photo by Mark Nessmith)

Rob Coalson and I auditioning to be in a hair band. (Photo by Mark Nessmith)

Deflated

2011-09-12T11:52:00.002+03:00

A good ride spoiled.

What were the chances, I thought?

In the end, it turns out, the chances were pretty good.

Daisy and I took advantage of the incredible Prague weather of late by heading out on a bike ride. Just the two of us. Something we don't get to do that often.

The week before, you see, Emma, Daisy, and I had also gone out for a little ride (more about that later), and when I went down to the garage to get the bike ready, Daisy had a flat front tire.

I replaced the leaky tube with a new one, the only spare I had for Daisy's bike. The ride -- a short one -- went fine.

I'd kept meaning to stop at the bike store to buy a few more spare tubes, but never got around to it.

The courtyard of the lovely Auberge de Provence.

Still-life at Auberge de Provence.

When an opportunity for another ride presented itself, I decided to go ahead and take the risk and have Daisy ride without a spare inner tube. What were the chances of two flat tires on the same bike in the span of two weeks?

Daisy and I rode from Černý Vůl to Statenice to Tuchoměřice, out to Kněževes and then over to Středokluky. I thought we'd make a pass through Okoř , have lunch, and then make our way back home.

Except that in Středokluky, Daisy noticed that she had a flat rear tire. What were the chances, indeed.

I had no spare tube and no repair kit. I called a taxi but AAA didn't have a car big enough to handle a bike.

I could have ridden home myself and brought our own car back and picked Daisy up, except that both of our cars were parked in central Prague since we'd taken a taxi back home after being out the night before.

A right mess, it was. I was pretty angry with myself, and at the situation.

A homemade plum tart and a half-liter of the local brew.

In the end, we had no choice, really, but to walk our bikes back home. It turned out to be an 8.5-kilometer (5.5 miles) walk in the hot sun. We stopped about halfway at the lovely Auberge de Provence restaurant, a French/Belgian fantasy in Tuchoměřice for a bite to eat and a couple of beers. And then it was off to home.

The walk probably took us two hours or so. Not exactly how I'd envisioned spending such a lovely day. I did learn my lesson, however.

Daisy and Emma on the abandoned stretch of road outside Roztoky.

As I mentioned earlier, Emma had joined us for a ride the week before.

We headed the other direction that time -- from Černý Vůl to Únětice, and then down to Roztoky.

There's a very cool stretch of road that heads out of Roztoky toward Sedlec that used to be the main road but which has since been superseded by a new highway along the Vltava. The old road dead-ends at the railroad tracks outside of Roztoky, which means it's abandoned, save for the occasional cyclist or roller-blader.

It's a great stretch.

On the way home, we stopped at U Lasiku, the best little wine bar in a place you've probably never heard of, and had a few half-liters of the excellent Únětický pivo, brewed just a few hundred meters down the road, and a few slices of lovely plum tart.

And I was really proud of Emma for tallying 17 kilometers. She's outgrowing her bike, so I think I know what Santa might be bringing her this year.

Let's hope the next ride with one or both of my ladies is a little less eventful!

RIDE STATS #1 (with Emma)
Length of ride: 17 kilometers
Average speed: 12.7 kph
Maximum speed: 26.2 kph
Pivo Index: 1
Time on the bike: 1.18.56

RIDE STATS #2
Length of ride/walk: 18.5 kilometers
Average speed: 8.9 kph
Maximum speed: 31.8
Pivo Index: 2
Time on the bike: 2.02.47
Distance ridden so far in 2011: 258.5 kilometers

No caption needed.

We passed these old circus caravans in Unetice. Wonder what the story is. Did someone get them for a good price at an auction somewhere? When were they used, and what for? Oh, the questions such things inspire.

Anyone know more about this amazing house in Tuchoměřice? It's been under renovation for years, and now seems poised to open. A bed-and-breakfast, perhaps? An office? A private family home? In any case, it's gorgeous.

Still-lines.

Trailing Behind

2011-08-24T21:25:00.005+03:00

The only bright spot on the "trail" linking Podmoráň and Řež were these wildflowers.

Four beers, two bowls of soup, one flat tire, and four mud-caked calves, plus giant patches of skin burning from nettle stings, and trails so rough we had to carry our bikes.

Yes, that can mean only one thing. Stewart and I are back on the bikes.

Believe it or not, Stewart and I hadn't ridden together for almost a year, since he and I and David and Mark paid a visit to the menhir last September. I still can't quite believe that. We used to go out in snow and ice and rain and sun, all year long.

Not sure what my excuse is, frankly. A busy schedule and general laziness, I suppose.

We met up in Roztoky at the site of our beloved Koliba, which burned to the ground a few years ago. For the first time since the fire, we noticed signs of activity at the site, as if someone has begun to clean it up in preparation for rebuilding. The small pond has been drained and much of the debris removed from around the site.

We're keeping our fingers crossed that a new owner will come in and restore at least a touch of Koliba's former glory. Although it will never be what it once was.

It was heartening to see that work appears to be starting at the site of the old Koliba. The pond has been drained and debris collected and removed. Anyone know the status of this site?

Then, with a cry of "It's been too long!" Stewart and I set out.

While it was a gorgeous, sunny day, the trails were still wet from recent rain, and our legs were soon speckled with mud and dripping with the juice of berries squashed along the way. It looked like we were bleeding.

Cycling along the west side of the Vltava near Roztoky.

We headed north along the west side of the Vltava, along the lovely paved path that I've written about here many times before. It's one of the nicest paths on which to cycle in Prague (the other being the paved path just north of the Prague Zoo on the east side of the river, but that trail peters out into some rough riding after just a few kilometers).

On the west side, things stay civilized until the village of Podmoráň. And then the trail turns ugly. Not to resort to hyberbole, but to call the route from Podmoráň to Řež a trail is like referring to a summitting of Everest as a hike.

Especially in the dead of summer, when the faint path is overgrown with stinging plants of various sorts and big rocks and roots mean that carrying your bike is the only means forward (we call it bhiking). Rob and I once came across a huge dead boar along this trail, but that was in the spring, when you could actually see what's hidden along the route.

It's an unpleasant stretch.

Once you reach the train station at Řež, however, a real path presents itself, and from there to Kralupy, it's smooth sailing. There are a few twists and turns that won't necessarily be apparent to the inexperienced, and unfortunately I did not map this ride with my Garmin GPS (next time I promise!), but I do recommend tackling this route if you're feeling the least bit adventurous. It has many things to recommend it, not least of which is that it is car-free for most of the way.

In Libčice nad Vltavou, Stewart and I tried to stop in an old pub where we'd enjoyed an early morning beer a few years ago, but the startled waitress said it was closed. Yes, it was only 9:45 a.m., but still. They had served us before.

From there we passed through Dolany before heading into Kralupy and then continuing north on one of our all-time favorite trails, the stretch from Kralupy to Nelahozeves, the trail soft under our tires, the curvaceous sandstone cliffs hugging the trail to the left, until we come out of the forest at the lovely Marina Vltava.

"Dvě piva, prosím."

The first of three beers each at the lovely Marina Vltava, a cyclists' oasis in the village of Nelahozeves. Yes, that's Stewart behind me. Sorry. Didn't mean to hog the photo.

By the time we left, we'd sucked back three Pilsners and lukewarm bowls of soup (not the kitchen's finest hour).

From there, well, I'm hard-pressed to describe our meandering route, which I'm not sure I could replicate if Stewart weren't with me. Basically, we took backwoods trails that wound their way from Kralupy to Otvovice to Zakolany, up the streep path to Budeč, and then down a lovely path to the road near Kovary, and then the back route into Okoř. I've done this route at least once before with Stewart. It's a lovely, largely car-free ride over hill and dale.

Stewart ended up with a puncture somewhere near Otvovice, caused by a large piece of old wire that had embedded itself in his rear tire. My spare tube also had a leak in it (that's a long story), so Stoo patched his tube with a handy repair kit and we were on our way in a relative jiffy.

Stewart -- the fastest puncture man in the business -- changes a flat in the wilds somewhere between Kralupy and Otvovice, I believe.

We ended up, as we often do, at the Family Hotel Okoř, where we had another bowl of soup (chicken noodle, and much, much better) and another glass of Pilsner.

My thighs felt like slabs of dead meat. I hadn't done any serious riding (OK, any riding at all) since early June. My legs and arms still burned from the nettles. By this time, I really didn't want to be riding anymore, but I had another six or seven kilometers to go to make it home.

I quite liked this little storage shed somewhere near Libčice nad Vltavou.

Stewart and I cycled to Černý Vůl, where I live. I felt bad for him, as he had another six or seven kilometers to go before he himself made it home (although largely a pleasant downhill through the forest to Roztoky, but still).

I would describe myself as limping home, if you can limp on a mountain bike

Sometimes I feel like a cycling pretender, a pretentious bike blogger. I've rarely been on my bike this year. And when I have ridden, it's been a painful experience due to my lack of time in the saddle. You would be forgiven for questioning my commitment.

Perhaps it's time to shut down the blog. A bike blogger needs to do two things to succeed, and I'm not really doing either one of them. Or not very often, anyway.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 52 kilometers
Average speed: 14.4
Maximum speed: 51.4
Time on the bike: 3.36.04
Pivo Index: 4
Distance ridden so far in 2011: 223 kilometers (pathetic, I know)

This park in Zakolany honors Antonín Zápotocký, a communist prezident of Czechoslovakia from 1953-57, who was born in the village. This park has also been recently been renovated, including a cool little pavilion with these stylish signs (below) pointing the way toward local landmarks and cities.

A ramshackle but very promising villa just next to the castle in Okor is also being renovated. It'd make a great hotel/restaurant or conference center. Anyone know what the plans are for this place?

Anyone know what this machine does, exactly? We were fascinated by this work on some railway lines. Looked like it was scooping up rocks and soil along the rails.

An old tractor on display beside the trail near Libcice.

We Have A Winner!

2011-08-24T20:39:00.000+03:00

The complete puzzle answers as supplied by Merl Reagle.

I was honored to have famous crossword guru Merl Reagle create a puzzle for me in honor of my 50th birthday. The clues are based on my life and my two blogs.

I offered a prize of $25 to any blog reader who could solve the puzzle. And I'm please to announce that we have a winner!

Robin Wisdom (aka Wissy), a regular reader and commentator on my blogs, sent in the winning entry. While he didn't fill in every answer, he filled in the most clues of any contributor. And frankly, the clues he didn't get could only really be solved by those who know me really, really well.

Wissy's winning entry.

Here's what Wissy had to say:

"Attached is the uncompleted crossword as discussed. I'm really annoyed with myself for not completing it but really enjoyed doing it and going through your old posts. Hope you and your family are all well."

Being the upstanding guy that he is, Wissy wanted me to donate the $25 prize to my favorite charity, so I'm sending 500 Czech crowns to the Prague Animal Welfare Society.

All the best to you, Wissy, and to all those who had a good time attempting to solve the puzzle.

And if you've never heard the Captain Bravo joke (19 Down), here's an audio clip of my father-in-law, Paul Sindelar, telling us the joke during a recent trip to Prague. I've heard it many times now -- the first time during a trip to Croatia a few years ago -- and I never get tired of it, especially in his telling. Enjoy.

Captain Bravo Joke (mp3)

Quite A Puzzle! And A Prize Awaits!

2011-07-17T10:48:00.002+03:00

Click on the image to enlarge.

I received a belated -- but very special -- 50th birthday gift a few days ago. A crossword puzzle, with my life as the clues!

And not only that, the puzzle was created by none other than Merl Reagle, world famous puzzlemaster extraordinaire.

How famous is he?

Sure, he's got his own puzzle syndicate and website. OK, he sells a popular line of puzzle books. Granted, he stars in the movie "Wordplay," which explores the fascinating world of crossword puzzles and crossword puzzlers (such as Bill Clinton and Jon Stewart).

But the true measure of his success, the achievement at the top of his resume, is that he voiced a cartoon character version of himself on "The Simpsons," in an episode from the 20th season in which Lisa enters a crossword tournament, only to discover that Homer bet against her. (That's him on the left.)

How cool is that??

Why did Merl Reagle create a crossword puzzle based on my life?

Back in the early 1990s, when I was the features editor at the Syracuse Herald-Journal in Syracuse, NY, Merl -- who was then, I believe, at the start of syndicating his own puzzles -- contacted me about buying his work for our games page. I was intrigued by his puzzles, which were an obvious cut above the usual fare that comes across a features editor's desk.

We had a few phone conversations, and I ended up buying his puzzles for the Herald-Journal. Reader response was enthusiastic, to say the least.

Jump ahead to just a few years ago, when after all those years I contacted Merl (that's him in real life, at right) through his website to see whether he would autograph one of his puzzle books as a gift for Paul Sindelar, Daisy's father, who is a keen crossword puzzler. In fact, Paul hosts an annual tournament in his hometown of Gainesville, Florida. I didn't know whether Merl would remember me, and I was pleasantly surprised to find that he had a soft spot for a certain editor who helped him get started in syndication (or so he says).

So Paul returned the favor when he and his wife, Alyson Adams, and her daughter, Hannah Sholar, visited us in Prague a few weeks ago. He had contacted Merl about making a puzzle for my 50th birthday that contained clues from my life, my blogs, my career. For some crazy reason, Merl agreed.

I was, and still am, so tickled by this wonderful gift. Thank you, again, Paul and Alyson, and thank you, Merl Reagle.

In celebration, I'm going to award $25 via PayPal to the first person who returns a completed puzzle back to me, with all the answers right (family and friends not eligible).

You can send it to my e-mail at grantpodelco@yahoo.com, post it on my Facebook page, send it to me on Twitter at @grantpodelco, or mail it to Grant Podelco, Za Cihelnou 198a, Statenice-Cerny Vul 252 62 Czech Republic.

If there's a tie, I'll randomly select a winner from the correct entries.

Paul Sindelar, Alyson Adams, and Hannah Sholar. Thank you, folks!

Taking My Friends For A Spin

2011-06-10T00:14:00.007+03:00

Karen (left), Steve, and Daisy pause on the farmer's road above Malé Číčovice.

Regular readers of this blog will recall that I almost died while cycling a few years ago. No, it wasn't due to an idiotic Czech driver, as you might expect.

The thing is, I was actually riding a stationary bicycle at World Class Fitness on Wenceslas Square. I was taking a spinning class run by drill sergeant Michael Sommer, at the urging of my friends, world-famous artist Karen LaMonte and her husband, Steve Polaner. At least, I had thought they were my friends, until I started the class and realized that I -- the supposedly fit and micro-famous bike blog author -- had been lured into some sort of sanctioned torture session.

I barely survived. I'm not kidding. (You can read about my experiences in a previous blog post here.)

Between Malé Číčovice and Okoř.

At the time, Steve and Karen (who themselves had no problem surviving the spinning; indeed, they thrived on the exertion) would feign fear as I talked of what it was like to actually ride a bike outdoors. While spinning, they said, they could always turn down the knob that controls the resistance on the bike, while riding up a real hill was another thing entirely. (Of course, I'd witnessed their spinning prowess and knew they'd kick my ass on a real hill.)

We'd promised one another that we'd go on a ride sometime. They wanted to see some of the sights that regularly crop up on this blog.

Well, almost two-and-a-half years later, we finally succeeded in doing just that.

Karen and Daisy heading into Malé Číčovice.

It was a beautiful spring day, and Steve and Karen drove with their bikes over to our house in Černý Vůl, west of Prague, from where the four of us, including my wife, Daisy, set off.

We cycled along the cool, leafy country road to Statenice to the village of Tuchoměřice, where the first of the day's harder climbs awaited us. Of course, neither Steve nor Karen had any trouble whatsoever getting to the top. If anything, I'm the one who was struggling. I hate hills.

From Tuchoměřice, we took the road heading toward Středokluky, but turned off on a little road that leads into the hamlet of Černovický. From there, it's a wonderful ride on a farmer's dirt road down into the neighboring hamlet of Malé Číčovice, home to the charming restaurant and pension called V Polích.

It was recently voted one of the best restaurants in the Czech Republic and sadly, considering how close it is to our house, we've yet to dine there. Soon, but not on this day, because we wanted to take Steve and Karen to the Family Hotel Okoř, in the neighboring village of Okoř, which is also home to the picturesque ruin of a 14th-century castle.

At the Okoř castle ruins.

The hotel is one of our favorite cycling stops for a beer, and one of our top spots for dinner. I maintain that the restaurant serves the best steak you'll find in these parts. (I wrote about the steak on my other blog, Gusto. You can find that post here.)

We stopped for a lazy, well-lubricated lunch, sitting outside at one of their cozy outdoor tables.

The best steak in Prague. Damn good French fries, too.

From Okoř, we cycled through Velké Přílepy to Úholičky. They wanted to see the famous Smallest Pub In The World, which only opens at 5 p.m., so we stopped at the pub across the street and had another beer. (By the way, I was able to confirm that this pub does not serve the cheapest half-liter of beer I've found this year. As I wrote last week, I thought that they charged 17 CZK for a half-liter, but I was wrong; it's 21 CZK ($1.25) for a Gambrinus. Still, not bad!)

WATCH: Among his many talents, Steve is a budding filmmaker and, using his iPhone 4, shot and edited an intricately plotted -- and totally improvisational -- movie as we were cycling. I'm including an excerpt of "Team Armageddon" below:

From Úholičky, it was another steep climb up to the Roztoky highway, which we took for a bit until we turned off for Únětice. We wanted to show Steve and Karen our New Favorite Place, the wine bar/cafe known as U Lasiku, which I also wrote about last week.

Table service courtesy of Karen, at the pub in Úholičky that I must remember to find out the name of the next time we're there.

We ordered a pitcher of rose wine and soda water for a refreshing spritzer, as well as an assortment of delicious tarts, homemade by the owner, Michaela. (By the way, I learned that U Lasiku is closed on Mondays and Tuesdays, for those of you contemplating a visit.)

From Únětice, it was back to our place for an impromptu Russian-inspired dinner of smoked fish and eel (which Steve and Karen had picked up at a farmer's market at Anděl earlier that same day), washed down with some icy cold Stolichnaya.

To say that it was a good day is to belabor understatement. Let's do it again soon.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 27 kilometers
Average speed: 14.5 kph
Maximum speed: 49.2 kph
Time on the bike: 1.49.32
Pivo Index: 5 (plus a few glasses of rose spritzer and, oh yeah, some vodka)
Distance ridden so far in 2011: 171 kilometers

This is a panorama photo of the Czech countryside taken by Steve using the Photosynth app on his iPhone 4. Very cool. Click to enlarge to get the full effect.

Check out this accidentally weird shot Steve made of me, also using the Photosynth app. The invisible man.

Some of the homemade tarts and sour pickles on offer at U Lasiku (above and below).

Daisy, on the road again.

Pit stop in Úholičky (above and below).

On the road between Okoř and Velké Přílepy.

Caption contest!

The Best Little Wine Bar In A Place You've Probably Never Heard Of

2011-06-03T06:58:00.002+03:00

U Lasiku is a funky little wine bar housed in an old wheelsmiths in the village of Únětice.

We've got a New Favorite Place.

At least for a few weeks, until a possible Even Newer Favorite Place opens up just down the street from the first New Favorite Place.

Let me explain.

Nothing interesting ever happens out here in the sticks where we live, in the village of Černý Vůl, west of Prague. But now we've got reason to be excited about two new additions to the neighborhood.

And Daisy and I decided to set off on a bike ride the other day in an effort to hit both hotspots.

Daisy on the road. I can't remember just where. But how nice is that cycling?!

We started off in Černý Vůl, headed down into Statenice, and then decided to tackle the big, long -- I said long, right? -- hill that rises up out of Statenice toward Lichoceves. It's a cruncher of a climb, and we haven't been riding much, but both of us summited successfully.

From Lichoceves, we took the road leading to Noutonice, and from there to the phonetically challenged Svrkyně. From there to Kozinec, and then Tursko, and then down into Úholičky.

We'd had a mind to stop off at The Smallest Pub In The World, which never seems to be open when you want it to be. And it maintained its reputation on this day. It was closed. I now realize it only opens at 5 p.m. everyday, which would seem to rule out a lot of business from thirsty bikers. Go figure.

The cheapest half-liters?

We decided to take our business across the street to a pub that I can never remember the name of but which is very welcoming to cyclists. Especially considering that a half-liter of beer is, I believe, 17 CZK ($1), which would be this year's winner (so far, at least) of the cheapest half-liter. I say I believe, because I think I overpaid for our round. I thought they were 22 CZK each, and gave the guy 50 and told him to keep it. But on our way out, the sign seemed to say 17.

Which means just one thing: I'm going to have to go back and do more research.

Our friends Fiona and Rory

From Úholičky, we climbed back up out of the valley toward Roztoky. Another steep climb. And then it was down into our neighboring village of Únětice, which is where all the excitement is happening.

We wanted to check out a cute little wine bar/cafe that we'd been hearing a lot about.

Our route, before my Garmin conked out:

Now, Únětice is not the first place you think of when you say the word wine bar (although interestingly enough Únětice does have an early Bronze Age culture named after it, so it does have that going for it).

But let me tell you about U Lasiku.

It's housed in a former wheelsmiths, and it couldn't be more charming. Funky furniture scattered about, both inside and outside. Bric-à-brac galore. Friendly owners. A cute scraggly dog who'll curl up at your feet (on your feet, actually). And a lovely array of drink (Czech wine, German wheat beer on tap!) and food (homemade sweet and savory tarts, Caprese Salad, homemade sour pickles, and the like).

It was everything we'd hoped it would be. And it's just a short walk from our house in the next village up.

No sooner had we sat down than Fiona Gaze and her fiance, Rory Houlihan, strolled in. They live in Roztoky, and they'd been among the folks to tell us about U Lasiku in the first place. We had a great chat as we drank and ate.

As if U Lasiku weren't enough, Únětice is also the home of the new Únětický Pivovar, a small brewery that I'd heard wasn't supposed to open until mid-June but which we'd gotten word that it might have opened early. It's housed in the building of a previous brewery that began cooking beer way back in 1710 but which went out of business in the 1950s, I believe.

That was the other destination that Daisy and I had in mind. So all four of us headed over but discovered that, indeed, it's not scheduled to open until June 11.

But how cool is all this? A craft brewery and a new wine bar, both just down the street!

Life in Černý Vůl just got a whole lot more interesting.

Stay tuned for more about the brewery in an upcoming post.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 25 kilometers
Average speed: 15.8 kph
Maximum speed: 47.8 kph
Pivo Index: 3.5
Time on the bike: 1.34.38
Distance ridden so far in 2011: 144 kilometers

The outside of U Lasiku (above) and various shots inside and outside the place, including the delicious homemade tarts (below).

Scenes from the ride: a poppy in a field of rapeseed, rose bushes abloom, fields of young wheat swaying in the breeze, country architecture.

Wind, Rain, Clouds And Tears

2011-06-02T12:07:00.003+03:00

A weeping woman mourns over the fields where the village of Lidice once stood.

This post was originally published on July 7, 2007. What with the imminent release of the Czech film "Lidice," I thought it might be helpful to re-publish it. It's a fantastic ride to a moving memorial. Here's the trailer for the film:

It was cold and cloudy, dark and windy, with the occasional raindrop. I had been facing a stiff headwind for the entire route, and was cursing out loud as I fought the elements and my own fatigue.

Then I came upon the vast memorial ground in the village of Lidice, unexpectedly, and I was quieted.

I should say that I came upon the vast memorial ground that used to be the village of Lidice.

If you don't know the horrific story, Lidice was a Czech village that was obliterated -- wiped off the map -- by the Nazis on June 10, 1942.

Almost 350 residents were murdered, in the end. First, 173 men of the village were stood up and shot in front of some mattresses that had been set up against the wall of a barn. Much of that brutality was even filmed by the Nazis and can be seen at the Lidice memorial museum.

Eighty-two children were taken to a concentration camp in Poland and exterminated. Their mothers were taken to another camp and were also killed or died.

The order to raze the village and kill its inhabitants was in retaliation for the assassination of a top Nazi official in Prague, Reinherd Heydrich, who was mortally wounded in an attack by Czech parachutists on May 27, 1942.

I had been familiar with the story, and had known that the village was just outside of Prague, but like the concentration camp at Terezin, I had never bothered to visit, thinking that it would be too much of a downer, I guess.

I had decided to cycle out to Lidice, northwest of Prague, at Rob's urging. He'd been out there a few weeks ago and thought I should check it out.

I took the usual route out to Tuchomerice, and then headed off west, instead of going north to Okor.

You can (finally!) follow my exact route on bikely.com by clicking here.

Prague to Lidice, Czech Republic

Share your bike routes @ Bikely.com

You can find my exact route from Prague to Lidice on bikely.com, or by clicking above.

The weather was awful, but I was determined to get to Lidice. I guess I was so focused on the ride that when I finally came upon the memorial, which borders the road I took, I was taken by surprise. And the first thing I saw was a statue of a weeping woman looking out over the vast field where the village once stood. All that remains now are a few foundations.

The cold and wind seemed to fade into memory.

The park was deserted. I continued farther into the grounds, where I came across the location of the mass grave where the men of the village are buried, marked by a cross of thorns.

I then walked my bike up to a sculpture erected in memory of the 82 children of Lidice who died in the reprisal, and was profoundly moved.

It's an amazingly simple but powerful work, featuring lifesize statues of 82 children staring back at you. You cannot help but be affected. Visitors have left lots of little toys and stuffed animals in front of the memorial. I felt compelled to remove my cycling helmet while I was viewing the sculpture.

This simple but powerful sculpture depicts the 82 children of Lidice who died in the reprisal, and is dedicated to all those children killed in World War II.

I then proceeded to the lovely rose garden, which contains more than 21,000 rose bushes of 200 different varieties. It's a peaceful place, with classical music (I believe it was one of the Brandenburg concertos by Bach) piped in over small speakers. One area of the garden is designed in the shape of a rose without a bloom, in honor of the children who died.

I would like to return to Lidice on my bike. It's a great ride, and a memorable destination.

And next time, I'll be a little more prepared, mentally, for what awaits.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 54 kilometers
Average speed: 19 kph
Maximum speed: 44.8 kph
Time on the bike: 2.48.36
Distance ridden in 2007: 1,104 kilometers

Visitors to the children's memorial left lots of little toys and stuffed animals behind.

Looking out over the fields where the village of Lidice once stood.

The rose garden contains more than 200 varieties and features an area shaped like a rose without a bloom, to symbolize the children who were killed.

There are many foundations sprinkled throughout the Lidice memorial. This is all that's left of the Gothic St. Martin Church. Its priest, Josef Stemberka, was killed along with the rest of the men of Lidice.

Biking In The City: The Madness & The Beauty

2011-05-21T09:28:00.006+03:00

Commuting in Prague is like diving into a cold swimming pool. Read on to find out why.

My friend and fellow cyclist David Murphy takes over the Bike Blog today as he writes about the Bike To Work competition:

I’ve begun to appreciate the madness and beauty of cycling in downtown Prague.

Until now, I’ve avoided as much as possible diving in among the Audis, Škodas, garbage trucks, taxis and other tens of thousands of vehicles that clog Prague’s streets every day, instead seeking out quieter, off-the-beaten-track routes around the city.

But all that changed after my organization, the Environmental Partnership, entered a monthlong competition, Bike To Work, organized by the NGO Auto*mat, and sponsored by, among others, the Environmental Partnership.

The goal is to promote the bike as a means of everyday mobility and prove to city officials that the investments in infrastructure, education and promotion are worthwhile and too little.

I usually commute to work by bike a few times per week, but since the contest started (it runs from April 28 to May 28), I have become an everyday commuter.

Riding through traffic at the Charles Bridge. One of the worst sections in the city.

The contest works like this: Companies are encouraged to put together and register teams of up to five members, who choose a route to work and declare the distance in kilometers from their home (giving at least the street) to their office (address). Contestants submit the number of times that they make the commute (on the honor system).

Each contestant is allowed up to an additional 10 kilometers per day for business meetings or other business-related activities that they travel to by bike. In my case, I ride to school with my children before or after work.

My declared round-trip commute is 26 kilometers from Kobylisy to Strašnice.

My main route comprises dirt trails and small streets (above and below).

The contest is divided between individual leaders and team results, with prizes ranging from an all-paid weekend for two in Copenhagen, the mecca of European cycling, to tickets to the Prague City Festival, to new bicycles.

In this, the inaugural year of the contest, it has attracted 266 teams, including the Office of the Government of the Czech Republic, the Danish Embassy, the Czech National Bank (they have seven teams entered), and nearly 1,000 individuals.

Rest assured that in the cycling world in Prague, democracy is alive and well, as even though we are sponsoring the event we get no special treatment and currently have a tentative hold on 81st place.

So far, Tesco Stores is in the lead with an impressive 3,220 commuter kilometers ridden. Clearly, team members don’t need to use bikes purchased at Tesco.

Prague by bike is a great experience.

I started with my usual route from Kobylisy through Vršovice on Europe’s Most Expensive Cycle Route, through Malešice to Strašnice. But after a week I got bored.

My next route was through Stromovka into the center, up Wenceslas Square, past Muzeum into Vinohrady and down into Strašnice.

Riding up Wenceslas Square early in the morning.

My latest route is down through Karlin along the river to Vyton and then into Nusle to the Slavia stadium and into Strašnice.

The cycle route through Karlin.

Each route offers a different Prague experience. This morning I had a quick breakfast at the farmer’s market at Kubanske namesti (one of the best in Prague). Yesterday, I pedaled down Wenceslas Square and through Old Town, deftly swerving between the cars and tourists.

Breakfast at the farmers’ market at Kubanske namesti.

There are a growing number of cycle lanes in the city, which do provide a certain level of security. But they are poorly designed, located as they are between the parked cars and the main road, or as cyclist friend, Rob Coalson, likes to call it, “in the door zone."

Despite the lack of really good quality infrastructure, Prague is a relatively good city for biking and more and more people are doing it to get around the city. This morning on my commute, I counted 89 cyclists on the streets. In Copenhagen you could count that many at any given intersection, but Prague has better beer.

No comment

After completing the second week and 350 commuter kilometers, I offer the following observations on everyday biking in Prague:

-- On some of the major roads downtown, horse carriages provide an excellent equine shield from cars, as even the most aggressive drivers appear reluctant to hit and kill a horse.

My horse-human shield.

-- Everyday commuting along the same route can be boring and I have started to vary my route and explore more routes through the city.

A bike box on Vinohradska designed to give cyclists a free space ahead of cars.

-- Cycling allows you to see much more detail in the city-scape as well as find new interesting pubs, restaurants and cafes.

-- I think most drivers should be happy with the new cycle lanes being created around Prague as many use them as temporary double parking spaces. One of the worst cycle lanes for this in Prague is Vinohradska between Flora and Želivského.

-- Audi drivers earn their reputation as the most aggressive; always stay clear of an Audi.

Commuting in Prague is like diving into a cold swimming pool. Once you’re in, you find that the water isn’t that bad, but building up the courage to jump takes some effort.

DAVID MURPHY RIDE STATS
Length of rides: 26-30 kilometers
Distance ridden so far in 2011: 790 km

Resources for cycling in Prague and the Czech Republic:

-- Prague By Bike
-- Prague Online Cycle Map
-- Cykloserver
-- Cycling Prague (official page of City Hall, in English)
-- Cycling

My 6-year-old son Liam tried my route when we went to the farmers’ market at Kubanske namesti, very close to my office.

Sign-posting for everyday cyclists to get from one part of the city to another is still weak in Prague, except in tourist destinations.

Setting up the farmers’ market at Na Plavce at the river.

The sign reads “Cyclists Please Ride Through Here Carefully."

Nuselsky Most

A tram at the end stop in Stromovka with the cryptic message, “No Turning Back II”

Vote Early, Vote Often!

2011-05-18T13:37:00.003+03:00

Shameless plug:

If you're a regular reader of this blog, or even a first-time visitor but you like what you see, why not go over to Crank and vote for me in this year's Crank Honors.

It's your chance to vote for your favorite cycling blogs, in the following categories:

Mountain Bike Blog
Road Blog
Commuter Blog
Cycling Lifestyle Blog
Women’s Cycling Blog
Travel Blog

Grant's Prague Bike Blog is listed in the Mountain Bike Blog category.

You can vote once each day. I'd certainly appreciate your support! Thank you so much!

The Best Biker Bar In The World (Or How To Have A Devil Of A Good Time)

2011-05-16T15:39:00.001+03:00

It's said the caves were once used to shelter fleeing religious refugees...

... and a Nazi weapons factory during World War II.

For my 50th birthday, I rode my motorcycle inside a cave. And no, I'm not prematurely senile.

If that wasn't enough, the cave is so large that it has its own roundabout. Oh, and it's also got a bar, where you can ride your motorcycle right up and order a drink.

Allen Harris, the chief of the Expat Bikers Club, had arranged a trip on April 24 to Pekelne Doly (Hell's Mines), in the Český ráj (Czech Paradise) area, north of Prague, between the hamlets of Svitava and Velenice. I think it was around 90 kilometers or so from Prague. You can see the exact location on Google below:

View Larger Map

It was a gloriously sunny day, but not too hot to make wearing the leathers a chore. We had a fantastic ride through the Czech countryside on winding backroads. You can watch a cool video of the ride, with me and my biking buddies, below. It was filmed and edited by Allen:

We didn't quite know what to expect once we got to the cave. In fact, at first, we passed right by it, since it's not exactly well signposted and sits well up off the road.

The day we visited, it was packed with bikers and bikes of all shapes and sizes. Everyone was as seemingly tickled as we were to have arrived at such a playground.

As Allen says, "This is the holy grail of pubs and all bikers must visit it once to call themselves a biker. This place is addictive and the trip will be repeated many times."

Inside, there are sofas and chairs and even a few mattresses thrown on the floor, if you want to spend the night, I guess. (Or maybe do other things.)

According to this website, the caves were used as shelter by fleeing religious refugees in the 17th century, and then later used for sand mining for a nearby mirror factory. It says the area also housed a Nazi weapons factory.

What's funny, though, is that we're all dressed in leather and sporting tattoos and beards and skull rings and such, and we're in the most amazing biker bar imaginable, but most of us are drinking coffee or soda or nonalcoholic beer, since there's zero tolerance in the Czech Republic for drinking and driving. And even if there wasn't, motorcycle riding in the Czech Republic is dangerous enough without having had a few.

It was a great ride and a wonderful way to spend part of my birthday. Thanks to Allen, Sam, Hayden, and Andy for letting me tag along.

Hayden Murray (left), Sam Graham, Andy Schofield, and I soak up some rays at the outdoor tables. It was just too nice to sit inside.

Allen enjoys a tall, cool half-liter ... of nonalcoholic Birell.

Sam remembers the one that got away.

Bikers can drive inside the cave, which features its own roundabout (above).

The bar, in the distance, surrounded in the cave by comfy sofas and chairs.

My Honda Shadow, getting some serious cave time in.

Renting Bikes In Prague

2011-05-14T10:22:00.007+03:00

City Bike, in Prague's Old Town, near the famous Hotel Paříž.

(This post was originally published in April 2008. I have just updated the price list and various other references to reflect the latest info. -- Grant)

One of the most frequently asked questions I receive here at the Home Office in Černý Vůl is about renting bikes in Prague. Where to do it, how much it costs, that kind of thing.

You'd think I'd have written about this topic sooner, but I guess I was just too busy riding my own bike. I have actually rented bikes in Prague, when friends or family have come to visit, so I have had some experience.

In the past few weeks, I've visited Prague's two main bike-rental shops in the city center. Here's what I found. I'll add others if I find any.

As far as currency conversion goes, figure around 16.5 Czech koruny to the U.S. dollar, or about 24 koruny to one euro.

CITY BIKE

I've rented from these guys at least once, and from what I remember had a perfectly pleasant experience.

City Bike is conveniently located in the Old Town, on Králodvorská street 5, very close to Náměstí Republiky (Republic Square).

What are their prices like? Check it out:

First two hours: 300 CZK (TrekK bike: 400 CZK)
Every hour after: 50 CZK (Trek bike 150 CZK)
Maximum all-day price: 500 CZK (Trek bike 600 CZK)
24-hour rental: 650 CZK (Trek bike 750 CZK)

No cash deposit required; you just need to leave some ID. English is spoken.

I was told they also do longer-term rentals, by special arrangement with the boss, I guess.

They offer a two-hour guided tour of the Old Town for 550 CZK. From what I gather, that tour involves a bit of beer drinking and is taken on funny-looking, yellow "cruiser" bikes, which have no gears, pedal brakes and big, soft saddles. This tour only includes Old Town, as you'd need some gearing to make it up to the "castle" area and St. Vitus Cathedral.

There's a separate Prague Castle Ride, for the same price, that lasts 2.5 hours and is taken on the geared bikes.

With each rental you get a helmet, lock, city map, a free bottled soft drink and a 20 CZK discount coupon for the Communist Museum.

They offer Shark and Mongoose mountain bikes for men and women with front suspension and another under the seat and cruiser bikes. They also rent kids bikes and baby seats.

The Trek bikes, for more serious cyclists, require that you leave a credit-card imprint as a deposit. They also offer a tandem bike for rent for 600 CZK for two hours or 900 CZK for all day.

The Shark full-suspension mountain bikes available at City Bike.

They say they were the first bike-rental company in Prague, opening in 2001. It seems hard for me to believe you couldn't rent a bike in Prague before 2001, but what do I know?

They used to offer, for more serious cyclists, an all-day tour to Karlštejn Castle, and a 32-kilometer Grand Bicycle Tour of Prague, but I don't see either of those on their website anymore.

City Bike
Kralodvorska 5
Prague 1
Telephone: 776-180-284
Hours: Daily from 9 a.m. to 7 p.m.
Website: www.citybike-prague.com
E-mail: info@citybike-prague.com

Praha Bike, very close to Old Town Square.

PRAHA BIKE

I've also rented from these guys before, and also had a great experience. They have an ideal location at 24 Dlouha Street, just a few steps from Old Town Square.

The bikes they rent are made for them -- 21-speed mountain hybrid bikes from component parts, so it's not like you're renting a GT or a Specialized or something.

The bikes are sturdy, ideal for Prague cobblestones and local trails, with front suspensions. They also rent out bike seats (70 CZK per day) and trailers (250 CZK per day) for kids, as well as tandem bikes and kids bikes. They also have long-term rentals, insurance, and even bike delivery, for a fee.

Here's a breakdown of some of their prices. Prices include a helmet, lock, and a basic cycling map and recommendations of where to ride. English is spoken.

Four-hour rental: 360 CZK
1-day rental: 590 CZK
2-day rental: 1,100 CZK
3-day rental: 1,530 CZK
4-day rental: 1,890 CZK
6-day rental: 2,400 CZK
7-10 day rental: 380 CZK per day

Deposit: 1,500 CZK for one-day rentals, 3,000 CZK for multiday rentals.

Payment: Cash only for rentals, credit card imprint for deposit.

Praha Bike also organizes guided tours of the city, as well as a guided trip to Karlštejn Castle (1,290 CZK per person), with a train journey on the return.

My gut feeling is that Praha Bike is a little more serious about their cycling.

Praha Bike
Dlouha 24
Prague 1
Telephone: 732-388-880
Hours: Open daily 9 a.m. to 8 p.m.
Website: www.prahabike.cz
E-mail: info@prahabike.cz

WHERE TO RIDE IN PRAGUE

As for nice rides that begin in the city center, from both of these cycle shops it's easy enough to make your way to Letensky sady, a lovely park with many cycling paths that overlooks the city. And from there, it's an easy ride over to Stromovka Park, an old royal park that also boasts lots of car-free cycling lanes.

Here's a ride that Daisy and I recently did that's pretty perfect for those riders starting out in the city. Just head to Stromovka park, cross over the river to the Prague Zoo, and then connect with the bike path that I mention.

Just be careful -- Czech drivers are notoriously bad, and don't respect the rights of cyclists. If you're new to Prague and can cycle where there are no cars, do it. Letna and Stromovka are perfect for that.

Happy trails.

Rolling On The River

2011-05-10T19:57:00.016+03:00

This is what it's all about.

Hard to believe how little I've ridden so far this year, a combination of a crazy schedule, bad weather (it snowed out my way on May 3!), bad timing, and bad luck.

But the gods (and the sun) were shining on me -- and on Daisy, too -- on Mother's Day, May 8, so we decided to take advantage of the fortuitous circumstances and head out on the bikes.

From our house in Černý Vůl, this is really a lovely little ride -- mostly, if not all, flat; mostly cycle paths free of cars; and with ample opportunities to pull over for a cold beer.

Even if you don't live out in the middle of nowhere, like we do, and you're starting out from somewhere in the city, it's still perfect. Just catch up with the route near the Prague Zoo, cycle north, take the ferry across to the west side of the Vltava in Klecany, as we did, then cycle back toward Prague. It couldn't be any easier, or prettier.

On our trip, we cycled from Černý Vůl to Únětice to Roztoky, and then headed toward Prague 6 along the Vltava -- partly on roads, partly on a wide sidewalk that hugs the western shore. At Podbaba, we rode the charming little ferry across to the east side of the river (our metro passes are honored on the ferry, believe it or not), where we immediately felt the need for liquid refreshment.

There seem to be these mom-and-pop beer/sausage stands every few hundred meters on the east side of the Vltava. We enjoyed a delicious half-liter of Bohemia Regent for 22 CZK (or about $1.30). So far this year, that qualifies as my cheapest half-liter, although I thought I spied a half-liter of Staropramen for 20 CZK along the same route. But then again, it's Staropramen.

Approaching Klecany, we passed a swampy area, where the frogs were in full song:

Listen!

We cycled north, mostly on the smooth, immaculately paved cycling path along the riverbank. Which sadly deteriorates after a few kilometers into a rough stone road that looks -- and feels -- as if it dates from Roman times. I wish the city -- any city -- would get its act together and complete the cycle path to Klecany. It's obviously popular. The path was clogged with walkers and hikers and roller-bladers and cyclists.

In Klecany, we grabbed another beer while we waited for another ferry to take us back across to Roztoky, from whence we retraced our route back home.

Not a long trip. Not a difficult trip. Simply an enjoyable trip.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 27.5 km
Average speed: 15.3 kph
Maximum speed: 36.1 kph
Time on the bike: 1.47.11
Pivo Index: 2
Distance ridden so far in 2011: 119 km

The beautiful path between Únětice and Roztoky.

Still no sign of reconstruction at the dearly departed Koliba, our wonderful forest hideaway that burned to the ground a few years ago...

... and which is right next door to the Hotel Maximilian, apparently a famous hotel and restaurant in its day but which also burned down many years before. Coincidence?

A wide walkway along the highway makes cycling south from Roztoky to Prague relatively safe, despite the traffic and the trains.

This cute ferry is actually part of the Prague public transportation network and will take your bike across for no extra charge.

There's a rubber duck on the flag. Just thought I'd point that out.

Soaking in the scenery.

This grizzled guy has been guiding the ferry across the Vltava from Klecany to Roztoky ever since I can remember. I wonder how many crossings he's logged? And how many cigarettes he's smoked?

One of the pubs in Klecany that caters to cyclists boasts this communist-era monument to the proletariat.

Baby Got Bike, Or Back To The Bakerloo

2011-04-11T21:37:00.008+03:00

I passed some of troublemaker artist David Černý's "Babies" series at the Museum Kampa.

I and an old friend got reacquainted last Friday.

I loaded my bike up in the back of my car and headed into the city. I was intent on riding the Bakerloo Run again. It used to be one of my favorite urban routes, but a quick search on the blog reveals that the last time I'd ridden it was in July 2007. Wow.

I must admit to having reached a certain level of boredom with the beautiful, but familiar, routes routes around my house in Černý Vůl, west of Prague. So I thought a spin on the old Bakerloo was in order.

I'd actually made plans to ride the Bakerloo on this day with its namesake, Mark Baker. I can't quite recall why we named it after Mark. I was going to ask him that question while we were riding, but we never did.

The day dawned windy, brisk and quite cloudy, and Mark wasn't feeling it. Just as I was heading out the door to meet up with him, he called to say that I'd have to do the Bakerloo in lieu of Baker.

I must admit that my sails felt a bit dewinded, as it were. But I had the day off and needed the exercise (I'm 1.5 pounds from my 25 X 50 campaign I began in January -- to lost 25 pounds, or 11.3 kilos, by the time I turn 50 on April 24), so I headed out anyway.

And I'm so glad I did.

The city was a riot of springtime blooms and flowers, there were cyclists and roller-bladers everywhere, the sun peeked out quite often from behind those clouds, I got a chance to catch up on some of my favorite podcasts (such as Marc Maron's hilarious and curiously intellectual "What The Fuck," as well as Daisy's excellent hosting of Radio Free Europe's "The Blender" podcast), and I thoroughly enjoyed my first bike beer of the season (in fact, I believe it may have been my first beer of the year period) at what we call The Blues Shack, at the bottom the park known as Dalejské údolí, near Hlubočepy.

By the way, they're doing some renovations on the ramshackle Blues Shack. It wasn't really open when I stopped by, but the guy served me a 25 CZK glass ($1.50) of delicious Kozel anyway.

That place is still going to be a dump when they get through with fixing it up, but they serve cheap beer and homemade smoked sausages, and it's perfectly situated on the Bakerloo Run, at just the time when you need some refreshment, so what's to complain about.

The ramparts of Vyšehrad.

The cool thing about the Bakerloo Run is that it is almost totally urban, but the route somehow manages to be about 75 percent on dedicated bike paths. It starts at Hradčanská metro, winds its way through the lovely villas of Střešovice, through Veleslavín, to Letohrádek Hvězda, through endless panelaks, until you connect with the top of Dalejské údolí.

There's a beautiful downhill path all the way through the park, which ends at The Blues Shack. Just before the shack, off on side trail, there's also Secret Lake, wedged into between tall sandstone cliffs. It's a magical little oasis -- hushed, beautiful. Hard to believe you're still in Prague, really.

Secret Lake.

The Blues Shack, under reconstruction. Although, frankly, it usually looks almost exactly like this during the best of times.

My first bike beer of the year, an 11-degree Kozel, from The Blues Shack, for 25 CZK, or about $1.50. Delicious.

A very affectionate, if slightly mangy, cat at the also slightly mangy Blues Shack.

From The Blues Shack, you wind your way down to the Vltava River, crossing on a very busy highway overpass to Branik (but which has a bike path and it's kinda of cool to be above the river and amid all those cars and trucks but safe), and then head back toward the center of Prague, also on a dedicated bike path along the east side of the river.

Once you're in the center, it does get a little squirrelly trying to negotiate your way to Letna park. I cross back over the river on either the Palackého or Jiráskův bridges and then snake through Kampa Park before joining up with Letna.

Prague's fabled Charles Bridge. Not a bad sight to appreciate from your bike. The pleasures of urban riding.

The view of the Vltava and its many bridges, looking down from Letna.

But what fun it is to bike through the city. Living out in the country, I don't get into the tourist areas very often, and it was amazing, on this ride, to see so many new restaurant and shops and hotels. Makes me want to live in the city again, frankly.

The Bakerloo is almost 40 kilometers in length, and it's another 10 or 12 from my house one way to Hradčanská, and I just wasn't feeling up to biking that distance round-trip so early in the season. I'm glad my car was waiting for me.

But it was a great ride. I saw a secret lake, petted a friendly cat, drank a cold beer, tackled some challenging hills, and stopped and smelled the flowers. Not bad for a Friday.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 37.5 kilometers
Average speed: 14.1 kph
Maximum speed: 36.2 kph
Time on the bike: 2.38.47
Pivo Index: 1
Distance ridden so far in 2011: 91.5 kilometers

We call this hill on the Bakerloo Run "Halfway To Straight Up" -- a 24 percent gradient. In other words, almost unclimbable.

The scariest church in Europe, on the east bank of the Vltava, near Podoli.

The scariest yacht club in Europe, on the east bank of the Vltava.

This very steep climb is in the Veleslavín neighborhood of Prague, and is one of the notable parts of the Bakerloo Run. It's a tough one. The photo doesn't do it justice. Easy for some. A challenge for me.

I loved the way someone trimmed these bushes in Veleslavín. Stylish.

Which way is up?

The Stresovice neighborhood was an explosion of color and perfume. Here, forsythia, and below, a magnolia. Spring in Prague makes the winter almost worth it.

Check Out 'The Blender' Podcast

2011-04-02T13:19:00.002+03:00

I'm hosting a podcast, along with a small group of other folks, including my wife, Daisy, over at Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty.

You should check it out.

It's called "The Blender," and it presents the best of RFE/RL -- features from our far-flung bureaus, interviews with newsmakers and correspondents, reports on language, music, and culture, even a little humor now and again.

A new episode is posted every Friday.

Here's a link to the latest episode on "The Blender" blog. You can find earlier episodes here.

We'd really appreciate your support. You can download it at our website, or go to iTunes and subscribe.

Feedback is welcome, either here or send it to podcast@rferl.org.

Thanks, everybody!

-- Grant

Grant's Prague Bike Blog On Facebook

2011-04-01T10:59:00.001+03:00

Hey, folks. If you're a regular reader of Grant's Prague Bike Blog, it'd be great if you also headed over to the blog's Facebook page and gave it a few "likes."

If you like it, that is.

You'll find interesting links to cycling articles, a chance to share tips and trails, and more photographs.

The more riders we have sharing, the better -- the more useful -- the page will become.

I'd love to see you post your own cycling photos, suggestions on trails in Prague or beyond, where to find the cheapest half-liter of pivo, or anything that's caught your fancy.

See you there!

-- Grant

Here's Mud In Your Eye (And Everywhere Else)

2011-03-30T19:03:00.005+03:00

This is the story of my most recent bike ride, told entirely in photos. I left my home in Černý Vůl, deciding to get a little hill-climbing practice by tackling the long, curvy, fairly steep hill that leads up to Horoměřice from Jeneralka. Along the way, though, just above Černý Vůl, I crossed a farmer's field.

That was a huge mistake. There's a path, but it was still winter-muddy, and after a few dozen meters, my tires simply refused to revolve. My bike was paralyzed by mud. It took quite some time to dislodge enough of the gunk to get going again. My bike felt like it weighed about 5 kilos more than it did when I began my ride. The photograph above is an optical illusion of sorts. The mud caked to my tire blends in with the mud on the trail, and it's hard to figure out where my tire ends and the earth begins.

A charming little fishing pond smack dab in the village of Horoměřice. In the winter, kids use it for ice skating.

Two roads diverged in a wood above Nebušice, and I, I took the one that was less muddy, and that made all the difference.

A monument in Nebušice that I'd never really noticed before. I believe it's a memorial dedicated to the families of soldiers gone off to war, but perhaps someone out there knows a bit more about it and why it's in this village, of all places.

I've always been fascinated by the loudspeakers that you can still see attached to telephone poles and the like in villages on the outskirts of Prague. From what I understand, they're vestiges of the communist days, when they would be used for public announcements or air raid drills and the like. I also like the retro design of the clocks that are often attached nearby. This photo was taken in Nebušice.

Here's my route, thanks to my Garmin Edge 305.

The picturesque church and clock tower in Nebušice.

Regular readers of this blog know that I like to take photographs of interesting patterns, manmade or natural. The buildings above and below are in Nebušice.

The sun was out in full force when I first had the idea to go for a ride, but by the time I hit the trails, it was a dark and stormy day. A raw day for a bike ride, to be sure.

A real fixer-upper at Jenerálka, just below the village of Nebušice and at the base of the long, steep climb back to Horoměřice. I'm happy to say that my lungs and my thighs survived the climb.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 18 kilometers
Pivo Index: 0
Distance ridden so far in 2011: 54 kilometers

Getting The Show On The Road

2011-03-17T20:50:00.001+02:00

A huge chunk of road has fallen away on the highway connecting Úholičky to Velké Přílepy, forcing the closure of the road to cars. Whoo-hoo!

I survived my first ride of the spring season.

Sure, I went out in early January for a ride, but that was more ice-cycling that bi-cycling.

I couldn't find any partners last Saturday, so I went out solo, but not before pulling my sorry-ass bike out of the garage and giving the chain and gears as thorough a cleaning as I could.

I pulled out long blades of grass, wrapped tightly around the derailers from rides dating to last fall. I carved out giant chunks of black, greasy putty that were also clogging the derailers. It took about an hour to get it all out of there, and to re-grease the chain.

An Únětice still-life.

I went on a short run from my home in Černý Vůl to Únětice to Roztoky, down to the wonderful paved trail that heads north along the west side of the Vlatava River, and up to Podmoran, where the trail ends. From there, it was up the long, steep hill to Úholičky, and from there along the road to Velké Přílepy.

It turns out the road from Úholičky to Velké Přílepy was closed to cars because a large slab of the road had fallen away, so it was a real pleasure to ride that section without worry. From Velke Prilepy, it was up the long hill and then down again home to Černý Vůl.

Not a lengthy run, but it had its share of climbs, and was a perfect introduction to the new season.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 19 km
Pivo Index: 0
Distance ridden so far in 2011: 36 kilometers

Whenever I pass half-frozen ponds like this one, I feel a little shiver run down my spine. Why? Check out this post from my other blog, Gusto.

It was so lovely to pass some snowdrops poking their way up through the ground. Spring is here.

A half-frozen waterfall in Podmoran.

Coming in for a landing.

Industrial patterns.

An Audio Update From Grant

2011-03-12T13:58:00.000+02:00

Listen!

A Stitch In Time

2011-02-14T15:05:00.002+02:00

Prague doctors seem to take delight in fashioning ridiculous-looking bandages for their patients.

Just a note to say that I haven't been blogging much lately due to both a busy schedule and the fact that I've been taking it easy lately after having had some minor surgery.

I noticed a tiny scab on my forehead last spring that simply never healed. To make a long story short, after a few visits to the dermatologist, the knife was recommended, and I went to the hospital a couple of weeks ago for outpatient surgery.

The lab results tested positive for basel cell carcinoma. That's the bad news. The good news is that they got it all, and that it wasn't melanoma.

I've always tried to be careful out in the sun, what with my ginger complexion, but I guess a lifetime of sunburns finally caught up with me. I've got to be especially careful now, since if you've had this problem once, you're susceptible to being diagnosed with it again.

I hope to be back on the bike and feeling like my old self real soon. Stay tuned.

Have An Ice Day!

2011-01-09T07:13:00.004+02:00

I call this, "Self-Portrait In Roztoky Road Mirror."

I've ridden in snow, taking childlike joy in the tracks written by my tires.

I've ridden on veritable hockey rinks, and had a laugh or two about my graceless tumbles (see them here and here).

And I've ridden often in the cold, my water bottle freezing solid and my fingers and face following suit.

But I can safely say that I've never ridden in worse conditions than I did on a ride I took on January 3.

Only four kilometers into the ride and I'm wondering what I got myself into.

It was cold -- 28 degrees Fahrenheit (-2 Celsius) -- and there was still plenty of snow on the ground, but the sun would peek through the clouds every now and again, and there hadn't been any fresh snow for quite a few days.

It seemed like a good time to put on the cold-weather gear and kick off what I hope will be a great year of cycling (to make up for a rather pitiful 2010).

I had no desire to ride on the roads, however, and would try to stay on the trails as much as possible. I don't like Czech roads in good weather, if I have a choice, and with the shoulders pretty much nonexistent due to the snow, and what with the dirt and the grime, I just couldn't get excited about a road ride.

Unfortunately, my usual trails -- in this case, from my home in Černý Vůl, west of Prague, through Únětice to Roztoky -- were more treacherous than I could have imagined.

Underneath a thin layer of slick snow was a thick layer of rutted ice. It was all I could do to stay on my bike. My tires would constantly catch the edges of those rutss and throw the bike sideways just a little, but enough to cause the tires to slide and for my bike to feel like it was going to come out from beneath me.

I tried to ride in the center snow as much as possible. It was stickier but sometimes just as treacherous as this ice rut.

On one occasion it did, but I managed to stay on my feet, but with my bike between my knees and pointing in the opposite direction. Not sure how I pulled that off, but I was glad to be standing.

As I said, I've ridden in snow and ice before, but in this case, it was unrelenting.

I almost turned around and went home a few times, thinking it wasn't worth it, but in the end I decided to stick it out and managed to squeeze 17 kilometers out of the day. I'll tell you what, though. It sure was purty out there. Not another soul to be seen.

Beautiful, but deadly.

I stopped at my pal Stewart's house in Roztoky for a quick whisky warm-up (he couldn't ride because of a sick son) and then took the main road for as long as I could back home. Despite the cars and the grime, I just couldn't face those trails again.

Landscape near Roztoky.

I survived this ride, but I can tell that I won't be going out again anytime soon. Not until that ice melts from the trails and the snow disappears from the shoulders of the roads. A bit of a thaw has arrived now in Prague, so perhaps that won't be too far off.

It is satisfying to have my first ride of 2011 under my belt, though.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 17 kilometers
Average speed: 12.4 kph
Maximum speed: 40.1 kph
Time on the bike: 1.21.49
Whisky Index: 1
Distance ridden so far in 2011: 17 kilometers

On the positive side, there wasn't anyone else out on the trails!

Check Out The Blog On Facebook!

2011-01-03T18:31:00.004+02:00

I've started a Facebook page for Grant's Prague Bike Blog that I hope will become a forum for discussion, for posting interesting, links and videos and photos, and just a great place to share tips and trails.

If you're on Facebook, search for Grant's Prague Bike Blog and become a fan. We'd love to have you!

-- Grant

Top 10 Adventures Of 2010

2010-12-27T22:33:00.002+02:00

A ROCK IN A HARD PLACE

Back in September, me and the boys embarked on an epic journey across field and stream to pay our respects to an ancient standing stone. Read that post by clicking here.

ITCHING TO GET OUT

A blog post that speaks to the power of the unpredictable, and which featured some of my best photographs of the year, which you can read by clicking here.

LITTLE RIDES, LOVELY LADIES, BIG FUN

The only thing more fun that going out on a ride with Daisy is riding with both Daisy and Emma. We had a fun little adventure to Roztoky back in June. Read that post by clicking here.

CHECKING OUT ČESKY RAJ

Hey, technically, it was still a bike ride! I wrote about a great adventure that Daisy and I embarked on in early July -- an overnight trip to Český Ráj on my motorcycle, a first. You can read that post by clicking here.

THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT SUNSHINE ON NEW LEAVES

I cherish the times when Daisy and I get to go out and ride together. This ride was one of the best. I was really please with the two audio samples that were included in the post, which you can read (and listen to) by clicking here.

TEARS FOR GEARS -- THE HURTING

It was great to be out on the trails with a fearsome foursome, but after this particular ride, I was more jellyfish than man. Read that post by clicking here.

TAKING A RIDE ON EUROPE'S MOST EXPENSIVE BIKE PATH

Back in May, my biking buddy Rob showed me what is, by all accounts, Europe's most expensive cycling path. It cost around $7 million. Read that post by clicking here.

HOW WE ROLL IN ČERNY VUL

Back in March, I had the chance to show a bit of the (icy and muddy) Czech countryside to a new friend, Kiya Wilson, the husband of one of Daisy's dear friends, Ellen Barry, accompanied by my regular cycling buddy Stewart. Read that post by clicking here.

WHATEVER COMES OUR WAY

I've been a motorcyclist for a few years now, but finally took my first group ride back in early November, with a few cool dudes from the Czech Expat Bikers Club. It was a thrill. Read that post by clicking here.

OH, HAPPY DAY!

I would be remiss if I didn't mention the best day of 2010, although it had nothing whatsoever to do with cycling. But it's my blog, and I can make up my own rules. Daisy and I got married on October 2 at Blackwater Falls in Davis, West Virginia. It was a glorious day for so many reasons -- friends and family came from far and wide, and the weather was spectacular. You can read that blog post by clicking here.

Thank to everyone for reading Grant's Prague Bike Blog. It was a strange year -- full of the highest highs and the lowest lows. I hope to get out on the bike a lot more in 2011, so, as they say, stay tuned!

Looking For A Home For Pee-Wee

2010-12-18T21:47:00.003+02:00

Pee-Wee showed up on our back porch in late August, out of nowhere, as friendly as if she'd been our cat all her life.

We're pretty sure she's a hypo-allergenic Siberian Black Smoke. She has long, flowing black hair, a gray collar, and gorgeous green eyes. Her body just seemed a little small for her outsized personality, so we called her Pee-Wee. The name stuck.

She lived outside, and we fed her every day. She slept in a cozy covered cat box that we put outside for her. But she didn't seem like a real outdoor cat -- she wanted desperately to be inside the house. So we'd let her in for a few minutes and take great delight in watching her explore. Pee-Wee's Playhouse, as it were.

Chicho, our male indoor cat, even tolerated Pee-Wee's shenanigans. She's very playful. We assume she was a house kitten but got lost or tossed outside at some point.

We took her to the vet and had her checked out. He thought she was probably around 7 months old or so. She was given the proper vaccinations. We scheduled her for neutering, which happened to coincide with the cold snap that we've been experiencing for the past month or so. We kept her inside after that, during her recuperation. A big patch of her fur was shaved for the operation, and we didn't want to expose her to the frigid temperatures. She's been inside ever since.

We're probably going to be moving back into the city soon, and we can't take her with us. We need to find a new home for Pee-Wee. She is an extremely loving, funny, and great-looking cat who definitely loves people.

If you're interested in adopting, or know of someone who is, we'd love to hear from you. Send me an e-mail to grantpodelco@yahoo.com or call 728-070-139.

UPDATE: We found a wonderful home for Pee-Wee on December 29. Thanks to everyone for their interest.

So Low

2010-11-23T22:11:00.002+02:00

My bike poses atop The Crag.

Some bike blogger I turned out to be!

I just went 62 days between rides. I counted.

Yes, I've been busy, sure, and I was sick with bronchitis for a few weeks, and I got married in there somewhere, but jeesh. Sixty-two days?!

It's hard to believe as I write this (where it's cold and dark and dreary outside), but the weather was actually exquisite in Prague not too many days ago. In fact, we set a record for the warmest November weekend in Prague history, at something like 21 Celsius, or almost 70 degrees Fahrenheit. Truly amazing.

I asked around to see if anyone wanted to head out on the trails with me on such a glorious day but could find no takers. So I headed out alone, just me and my bike and my spaghetti legs and iPod.

And what a day it was.

With NPR's "All Songs Considered" podcast to keep me company, I ventured from my house in Černý Vůl, west of Prague, down through Únětice to Roztoky (nothing happening at the site of our beloved Koliba, by the way), then along the river to Lysolaje, then up through some nasty construction to V Šáreckém údolí, and then up to the fantastic Croatian restaurant at Jeneralka called Chorvatský Mlýn. (I remember when this ride from Podbaba up V Šáreckém údolí used to take everything I had. Today, even though I'm out of shape, it's nothing, really. I guess I can still take some faint pride in that.)

From there, I headed into my old route into Divoká Šárka, with the aim of seeing if one of our old haunts, the beer garden near the swimming pool, was open on this day. And indeed it was. Lots of cyclists and families with babies in strollers and old folks with dogs out for a stroll on what was probably the last nice day of 2010.

The justifiably popular beer garden in the middle of Divoká Šárka.

I gassed up on a beer and a klobasa, mustard and bread and watched the rock climbers as they scaled the surrounding cliffs.

From there, it was up the very steep, paved trail just behind the beer garden (I admit I had to walk my bike part of the way), and then up to what we call The Crag, a rocky outcropping that offers sweeping views of Sarka and the surrounding countryside and city.

A lovely, but steep, trail heading up to The Crag.

The view from The Crag.

I changed my iPod to a Genius mix that included Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Kasabian, White Lies, Arctic Monkeys, Oasis, The Boxer Rebellion, Maximo Park, and the XX.

Then I headed on a path that skims the edge of Sárka to another path that cuts across some farmer's field (where I recorded the audio clip below), across The World's Most Dangerous Road, to the village of Přední Kopanina. Then through the forest connecting the village to Statenice, my neighboring village, where I stopped for a second beer, which I sipped outside in the waning sunlight, and then home.

Listen!

At around 25k, my legs started to give out on me. I felt pretty good otherwise, but my thighs just started to ache. Thankfully, it was pretty much level or downhill from there, so I wasn't forced to do any climbing. But it was pretty obvious that I hadn't ridden in quite some time.

Even though winter is approaching, I hope to remedy that situation.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 31 kilometers
Average speed: 13.7 kph
Maximum speed: 37.4 kph
Time on the bike: 2.14.23
Pivo Index: 2
Distance ridden so far in 2010: 535 kilometers

Long shadows as I head for home.

A final sunny beer in Statenice.

Despite the great weather, it was pretty sloppy out there in the forests.

I don't know why exactly, but I really like this failed photo. In the woods near Přední Kopanina, the planes fly pretty low as they make their approach to the Prague airport.

Another nice trail in Divoká Šárka.

Architectural detail near Chorvatský Mlýn.

What I believe is a relatively fresh memorial, presumably to a walker or cyclist hit by a car, along the normally bucolic V Šáreckém údolí. A disturbing development.

Shadows and patterns.

Construction scene sculpture in Lysolaje.

I came up behind a group of horse riders on my bike near Únětice. These kinds of encounters always make me nervous, since I'm afraid my presence, coming up from behind, will spook the horses. I always slow down or stop and make sure everyone knows I'm there before proceeding past. I had one unfortunate experience with this a few years back.

Patterns.

Near Únětice.

He Almost Mist It

2010-11-21T16:13:00.007+02:00

It's been rainy and foggy and kinda gloomy in Prague for the past few days.

My cycling buddy Rob took the photograph above. He says:

"I found this great bit of new cycling infrastructure this morning. A great new path along the outside of the park around the Star Lodge," also known as the Letohrádek Hvězda.

He also took this photo in the village of Brve, presumably on the same day, judging by the weather!

Nice photos, man.

Whatever Comes Our Way

2010-11-11T13:07:00.002+02:00

Allen took a video of our ride using his Contour HD helmet cam.

Homer Simpson: The first meeting of Hell's Satans is called to order.
Ned Flanders: I move to reconsider our club name. Make it something a little less blasphemous. After all, we don't wanna *go* to hell.
Lenny: How 'bout The Devil's Pals.
Ned Flanders: Nuh-no... see...
Moe Szyslak: How about the Christ Punchers?
Ned Flanders: The Chri...! I-I don't think you understand my objections.
Homer Simpson: I'm the president and the decision is mine. We're Hell's Satans. Besides, I already made our club jackets.
Lenny: Ooo, machine wash warm.
Carl: Tumble dry... Oooh lah lah.

As some wise person once said, "It's not the destination, but the journey." And that old adage certainly held true last weekend, when I went on my first group motorcycle ride with some cool dudes from the Czech Expat Bikers Club.

I'd received an e-mail from the club's guru, Allen Harris, back in August. He'd seen a previous blog post I'd done on the ride that Daisy and I took to Český Ráj and wanted to know if I'd be interested in riding together.

He wrote:

"I have 2 cruisers, a Yamaha VX1100 Virago and a VX535 Virago. I have had them for 10 years now and after a period off them due to work I am getting them back on the road. The first job is to get new STK approval which will start next week for the 535 then I will get the 1100 back on the road as well.

"I have been looking out to find someone who might enjoy pottering about the countryside at the weekends, take in the smells, sights and life of the area. It is good that you like to drive at a moderate pace as riding cruisers at speed results in getting very long arms and continual tears rolling down your face.

"I am planning some short trips around the area as soon as the bikes are legal, so if you are interested maybe we could get together one day soon and put a mark on the map."

That sounded right up my alley. My idea of motorcycling paradise is cruising along at 70 kph on a deserted country road.

But what with my mom's injury and recovery, and my trip to the U.S. to take her home, and then the month of September was pretty much consumed by wedding plans, Allen and I never did get to ride together.

But at the end of October, Allen organized a meeting at a Smichov pub for interested riders. I stopped by for a few cold ones (OK, they were Radegast Birells) and met Allen and four or five other expat bikers, all cool guys and all interested in riding together.

The next week, Allen scheduled a ride, which I didn't think I'd be able to make, as we had friends coming over with their new baby for dinner. But then Daisy got sick, and we didn't want to risk making the baby sick, too, so suddenly I was free to ride. I didn't realize this, however, until about 45 minutes before they were all scheduled to meet at the McDonald's on Evropská.

I threw on my riding leathers and raced over. The skies were dark, but it hadn't rained, and it was quite warm (around 14 C or 57 F).

Turns out there were, in addition to myself and Allen, four other bikers, all of whom had not been at the pub meeting the week before. Here are the guys I rode with, and what they ride (photos of the bikes can be founda at the end of this post):

Allen Harris rides a Yamaha XV1100 Virago.

Marcus Pauels rides a European 2008 Harley-Davidson Softail "Rocker C" (1584 cc)

Andy Schofield rides a 1999 Honda CBR900RR Fireblade (918cc)

Karthik Shetty rides a 1999 Honda X11 (1,137 cc)

Stu Schaag rides a 2008 Harley-Davidson Nite Rod Special (1250cc)

And me? I ride a 2002 Honda Shadow 600.

By the way, Stu got his Harley outfitted with a monster after-market exhaust system that really shakes to your core. I recorded a bit on my iPhone. Take a listen:

Listen!

I sort of assumed that everybody knew everybody else, and that I was the odd man out, but that wasn't the case. We were all just bikers eager to ride with other bikers but who didn't really know anyone to ride with.

Allen (left), me, and Stu at a pit stop at the lovely Ve Stoleti.

Andy (left), Karthik and Marcus across the table at Ve Stoleti.

Someone decided we should ride to Lany, which is the town where what you might call the Czech Camp David is located. There's a chateau there that's long served as the summer residence of Czech presidents. The first president of Czechoslovakia, Thomas Masaryk, is buried in the local cemetery. President Vaclav Havel used his regular "Talks From Lany" radio programs to comment on current events.

Anyway, that sounded like a fine destination, probably a 30-minute trip from Prague through the rolling Czech countryside. In the end, though, the trip took us something like 90 minutes, after the leaders got lost numerous times.

For my taste, we spent way too much time on major highways on that route and not enough time peeling fall leaves off our visors, but it was still a hell of a lot of fun.

Here's a funny bit of audio I recorded of Marcus and Stu discussing where we'd all gone wrong on the roads:

Listen!

In Lany (where just about everything was closed for the season), we stopped for coffee (I had another nonalcoholic Birell) and then headed down to Beroun, twisting through some genuinely gorgeous autumn-hued countryside.

From Beroun, we headed back toward Prague and stopped again in a really cool restaurant and hotel that Marcus knew called Ve Stoleti in Loděnice. He spoke highly of the food and service, and while I didn't eat, the place had a great vibe and looks like it is spectacular in sunny, warm weather.

Stu and I needed to get home to our wives, so we cut out a few minutes early and headed up the highway. Turns out that that was a smart move. About 10 minutes from home, it started to rain, and rain pretty hard. I managed to make it home before getting too soaked, but the guys who stayed behind had a very wet ride ahead of them once they finished their meals.

Members of the Expat Bikers Club? Or an outtake from "Wild Hogs"? The gang stops in Lany for a break -- (left to right) Andy, Karthik, Stu, me, Allen and Marcus.

Let me just say a few words about riding motorcycles in a group. This is the first time I've ever ridden with even one other rider, and it does have its advantages:

1. You have support if something goes wrong.

2. You have someone to talk to when you stop for a coffee.

3. You can just follow the pack and not worry about where you're going.

4. And I must admit: You really feel like a badass when you're one of a gang of six motorcyclists passing through a town or village. People stop and stare and generally get the hell out of your way. You feel, well, cool. There's no other way to say it.

I had a fantastic time on this ride, which ended up being around 140 kilometers or so. I do have to admit that I'm an enthusiastic motorcycle rider, but I know next to nothing about the geeky aspects of riding -- that is, I don't know that much about bikes, or engine sizes, or horsepower, or the advantages of a twin-cam air-cooled engine.

All the other guys really seem to know their torque from their compression. And truth be told, I really don't care that much. I just want to ride. And that seemed cool with them.

Despite feeling slightly out of place, I had a fantastic time. I made some new friends, saw some beautiful countryside, and experienced that surge of adrenalin that only comes with riding a motorcycle.

When's the next ride, gents?

Karthik's 1999 Honda X11 (1,137 cc)

Stu's 2008 Harley-Davidson Nite Rod Special (1250cc)

Allen's Yamaha XV1100 Virago.

Marcus's 2008 Harley-Davidson Softail "Rocker C" (1584 cc)

Andy's 1999 Honda CBR900RR Fireblade (918cc)

My bike, a 2002 Honda Shadow 600

The 2011 Prague Bike Blog Calendars Are Here!

2010-11-04T15:53:00.011+02:00

Yet another blog post in which I make excuses for not riding...

I got married earlier this month -- as you may have read ;-) -- and was out of the country. Then I got sick for two weeks with bronchitis, which I'm just now pulling out of.

I hope to be back in the saddle again soon.

In the meantime, I am thinking of putting together a 2011 Grant's Prague Bike Blog Calendar, featuring some of the best, funniest, and most entertaining photographs from the blog over the past four years.

It hasn't been created yet (I'll post a link when I get a final version together), but in the meantime, let me know if you'd be tentatively interested in ordering one of these babies, at cost.

It'll probably run you around $20 each, plus a few bucks for shipping.

They make excellent Christmas gifts or stocking stuffers!

Oh, Happy Day!

2010-10-20T17:55:00.003+03:00

Daisy, Emma and I make our grand entrance.

Daisy and I got married on October 2 at Blackwater Falls State Park in Davis, West Virgina, amid the rugged splendor of the Allegheny Mountains. After a year of planning and worry, the wedding weekend went off without a hitch.

My parents used to take my sister Carol and me to the park almost every autumn to see the leaves. Their families lived not too far away, so Blackwater Falls became an almost-annual pilgrimage for us from wherever we were living at the time (Ohio, Illinois, Pennsylvania -- we moved a lot).

I have fond memories of walking the wooden stairs down to the falls, holding my hands over my ears because of the deafening roar of the cascade (or so it seemed to me at the time).

When Daisy and I were talking about places to hold the ceremony, I thought of Blackwater Falls -- especially since we were planning a fall wedding. My father was not in the best of health at the time and likely couldn't have made the trip to Prague, or anywhere else too far away. He was thrilled when I told him where we'd decided to get married.

Sadly, he passed away in February. His spirit was with us on our wedding day, though.

Despite torrential rains just a few days before, our wedding day was bright and sunny. Around 75 family and friends from Prague, Syracuse, Denver, Seattle, Gainesville, Minneapolis, Chicago, Washington, D.C., New York, and various other points across New Jersey, Pennsylvania and Maryland all converged for the big day.

We were so grateful for their presence.

On an obviously slow news day, "The New York Times" even saw fit to write a fun little story about us, which you can read here.

Before I get to the photos of the ceremony, I wanted to publish a wonderful poem that was written for us as a wedding gift by Carolyn Reamer, the mother of Keith Reamer, who is Daisy's uncle and the husband of our celebrant, Murphy Birdsall. Carolyn and her husband, Leon, are lovely folks.

Daisy and I were so tickled to receive this hand-written poem, which is so charming for so many reasons:

A WEDDING TALE

Do you know the why and wherefore --
You're the one I seem to care for --
A lovely phrase from a song of my youth.

Whither you goest, I will go:
A simple statement, don't you know,
From a biblical lass named Ruth.

Oh, I've taken the plunge:
Well: More like a lunge
To partake of the nuptial confection.
After substantial reflection
And wee bits of correction.
Aren't we pleased with our selection?

Some ladies will cry;
As they swabbed each eye,
I asked them why.
Romantic bliss
Can collect in a ditch, they said.

I fled.

To be always ecstatic
Won't be automatic
Dear ones, there is nothing to fear.
I'll bet in the attic
There's a dusty schematic
On how to put love back in gear.

When the multitudes
with platitudes
And amplitudes
Defuse --
That labyrinth of soulful views:
Which to keep, which not to use.
Give everyone credit
Then edit.

You both sparkle and glisten.
We are on exhibition
We lean in to listen.
Are they married yet?
Trilled in soprano pitch.
"Five seconds ago, ma'am. a bonafide hitch!"
That should suffice --
Throw the rice.

Thanks again to everyone who made our day so special.

Daisy and I applying for our marriage license on a rainy day at the Tucker County Courthouse in Parsons, West Virginia. Everyone was so nice.

The lodge at Blackwater Falls, built in the late 1950s.

The canyon at Blackwater Falls State Park. The fall colors were not as brilliant this year, they said, because of a severe drought during the summer. Still plenty beautiful, though.

The spectacular 62-foot-high (19 meters) Blackwater Falls. Due to all the rain, there was more water spilling over than I had ever seen before.

The water in the Blackwater River is the color of dark tea, due to the tannins in the water from the hemlock and red spruce.

On the morning of the wedding, we organized a nature hike led by the park naturalist, Paulita Cousin.

The nature hike took in the smaller -- but no less beautiful -- Elakala Falls, not far from the lodge itself.

A gifted local musician, Roy Levine, who also happens to be my brother-in-law, played piano during the ceremony.

The wedding party, with the Blackwater gorge behind us.

Daisy's aunt, Murphy Birdsall, a celebrant with the Universal Brotherhood Movement, wrote and performed the ceremony. So many guests came up to us afterward to say how beautifully written and personal they thought the ceremony was. Thanks, Murphy!

Daisy's father, Paul Sindelar, and his wife, Alyson Adams.

Daisy, looking ravishing.

Modeling The Most Expensive Tie In The World.

Daisy's mother, Robin (left), and my mom, Mitz, helped out with a traditional Slavic bread-and-salt ceremony. The bread was baked by Daisy's aunt, Jennifer Elgrim. The salt came from Hallstatt, Austria, where I proposed to Daisy.

Even Emma got to taste a bit of the wine.

My best man, Stewart Moore, a great friend who lives nearby here in Prague.

Emma (right) and Hannah Sholar, Daisy's father's stepdaughter, recited "The Owl and the Pussycat" by Edward Lear.

Daisy's college friends from her days in Moscow, Kristin Witting (left) and Anna Connolly, performed a song by the Russian band Akvarium. The song title is translated as "Sitting On A Beautiful Hill." They were wonderful. See a video of their performance below:

The traditional kowtowing before the bride. Actually, the ground was really uneven, which made for a lighter moment at one point in the ceremony.

A shivaree was sounded after the vows were said, to scare away any bad spirits. We handed out all sorts of noisemakers before the ceremony began.

I think Emma was a bit overwhelmed by all the noise!

Our friend Momchil Blagoev got the noisemaker-of-honor.

Clothespin Daisy, Grant and Emma at the reception. Our cupcakes were baked by a local Mennonite bakery. So good.

Our good friend Tanya Kancheva (Momchil's wife) took this portrait of us for "The New York Times." She also took most of the photos you see on this post.

My mother, Mitz, has a laugh. She's doing so well in her recovery from hip surgery.

Some of the guests played croquet out on the lawn of the Blackwater Lodge after the ceremony.

We got married in West Virginia. Where did you think we'd go on our honeymoon?

We Do!

2010-10-11T11:05:00.001+03:00

Sorry I haven't posted recently, but I have a good excuse.

Daisy and I got married on October 2 at Blackwater Falls State Park in Davis, West Virginia.

I'll be posting more about it shortly, but in the meantime, here are a few photos from the big day.

A Rock In A Hard Place

2010-09-16T11:03:00.002+03:00

This ride really separated the menhir from the boys -- Rob Coalson (left), Stewart Moore, David Murphy, me, and Mark Nessmith.

It appeared on the horizon like a dark thorn protruding from the flesh of the Earth.

They call it the Stone Shepherd or the Stone Man -- a prehistoric menhir, or standing stone. A megalith. A monolith. Thousands of years old. A tapered 3.3-meter tall rock, poking out of the soil like a frost-bitten finger, whose original purpose -- like that of the hundreds of other menhirs across Europe -- is largely unknown.

Perhaps it was a territorial marker or helped an ancient people make sense of the seasons for planting purposes. Some menhirs may have marked the graves of warriors or been used for fertility rites.

No one really knows.

The menhir.

This menhir was in a farmer's field a few hundred meters outside the Czech village of Klobuky, some 50 kilometers northwest of Prague. Our ambitious mission -- suggested by my cycling buddy Dave Murphy, who's in much better shape than I and who feels no hesitancy in suggesting Tour de France-worthy excursions -- was to ride from Prague to Klobuky, pay our respects to the stone, and then return, with lunch and perhaps a few beers in between.

I love dolmens and standing stones and megaliths and passage tombs and cairns, but had no idea that such things existed here in the Czech Republic. (In fact, Dave told me there's even a small menhir in my neighboring village of Horoměřice).

So I loved the idea of this ride but was a little daunted by its length -- from my home village of Černý Vůl, it would be about 90 kilometers round-trip.

On the way to Okoř, looking back toward Velké Přílepy, in the rising sun.

I haven't exactly been tearing up the trails this summer, and I was worried my legs might fail me somewhere along the way.

In the end, I had good reason to worry.

Turns out there'd be five of us on this ride -- me, David Murphy, Stewart Moore, Rob Coalson, and Mark Nessmith.

Sunday dawned misty and cool but with an insistent sun burning its way through the fog.

Stewart and I decided to ride the first leg of the trip together and meet the other three -- who'd be coming from Prague proper -- at our favorite watering hole in Okoř. It was only 8:30 a.m., but we'd ridden 10 kilometers or so by this point, so with not a small amount of glee Stewart persuaded the hostess at the wonderful Family Hotel Okoř to pour us a couple of cold ones.

Stewart and I take in some early morning refreshments in Okoř while we wait for our mates.

We took schoolboyish delight in MMSing a photo of our beers to Dave, Rob and Mark, who were still slogging their way to meet us.

The beer tasted good, perhaps even more so because of the illicit hour.

Once assembled, our motley crew set off on a route that would take us from Okoř to Zakolany, Zakolany to Kolec, Kolec to Zvoleněves, Zvoleněves to … Ahh, hell, just check out the map below that I made using my Garmin Edge 305.

What the map doesn't show, however, is that the route consisted almost entirely of hills, steep hills -- most of them, it seemed to me, of the "up" variety.

It was a rollercoaster of pain.

Mark can't believe that yet another pub is shuttered on a Sunday morning.

I had tried to carbo-load that morning, eating a couple of slices of brown bread slathered with peanut butter and, of course, there was that beer. I also stuffed a package of Pop-Tarts and a banana in my backpack for the road. I've been having trouble with "bonking" on the trail -- just running out of energy. But I hadn't really been eating properly on my rides -- a misguided effort to lose weight that only backfired in the end, when I could barely limp home.

A pastoral landscape somewhere along the route.

On this ride, however, I discovered that my problem isn't really bonking so much as just out-of-shape muscles. I have lots of energy, and I'm not out of breath on the climbs. The problem is just that my quadriceps hurt like hell near the end of a long ride.

Every revolution of the pedals translates to burning pain in my thighs. An ugly swamp of lactic acid pooling in my legs. That probably means I just need to exercise more, not necessarily eat better (although the latter is common sense, I guess).

Anyway, it was a gorgeous day, the sun shining, the sky blue, the clouds like melted marshmallows, the conversation among our group by turns enlightened and lewd, informed and indecent. A bunch of guys cracking jokes and spouting off on all manner of subjects (some of which they actually knew something about), whilst simultaneously trying to pull themselves up steep, endless hills without revealing to their mates just how much pain they're actually in, lest they appear unmanly.

Most unusually, considering the country in which we were riding, we were greeted by a dearth, a paucity, an absence, an insufficiency of open pubs. We were all in need of a beer or two after 30 or 40 kilometers, but we couldn't find a single open hospoda. Not one.

It wasn't until we cycled into Klobuky itself that we found, on a weedy sidestreet, an open pub, albeit one of the grimiest, slimiest, saddest pubs I've ever seen. However, it did offer cold, crisp half-liters of Branik for 17 CZK, or about 88 cents, the cheapest I've seen a half-liter this year. I offered up my Pop-Tarts to the table and inhaled my banana while no one was looking.

We needed more substantial fare, but there was none to be had here. Or none we were willing to eat, anyway.

The boys celebrating their arrival in Klobuky by having a cold beer in a sad little pub.

After one beer, we decided to find what we'd come all this way to see and cycled a few kilometers outside of town to the menhir.

I must admit to feeling a little thrill chill when I first spied that stone from afar. A small crowd of bikers and hikers were circling it when we arrived to do our own inspection.

What can you say?

The Klobuky menhir is just plain cool. No one knows why it's there, or how it got there, or who erected it. A megalithic mystery.

It almost begs you to touch it, to place your hands upon it to try to detect some cosmic pulse.

This particular menhir features at least one small "cup" mark on one side of the stone and a large round hole drilled deep into the stone about waist high on the other (which of course sparked a whole slew of jokes about romancing the stone, as it were). Not sure what that hole was really for, though. Perhaps it was used in some way to join two stones together.

In fact, this particular menhir is known as the Stone Shepherd because it used to be encircled by eight other stones, which have long since been removed, presumably by farmers upset at giant boulders hampering their harvests.

If you call up the site on Google Earth, you can just make out the markings where the eight "sheep" stones used to stand. (See some of these ghost stones in the picture at left. The real menhir is in the center left.)

We touched the stone, walked around the stone, took pictures of the stone, and made jokes at the expense of the stone.

It was time for another beer.

We retraced out steps to the crappy Klobuky pub and downed another and then set off to retrace our route home.

I, for one, had doubts whether I could make it home. I was feeling OK in Klobuky, but there were 45 kilometers and about 20 hills between me and a hot shower. And we hadn't had lunch yet.

We were all running on fumes.

Our only hope of decent food seemed to rest with the restaurant at the Golf Club Beřovice in the village of the same name. I'd golfed there quite a few times and remembered the restaurant as a clean and well-lighted place.

We limped into Beřovice, our thighs aching, our stomachs growling and our whistles in desperate need of wetting. A plate of spaghetti never tasted so good. The additional two beers were also quite tasty.

Suitably refueled, we set off into the gloaming -- and me, I was moaning -- for the 25 kilometers or so back to Okoř. Where we drank two more beers in celebration of the completion of our adventure.

Back in Okoř and looking pretty good, considering. Except for Mark. (Rob had had to leave a few minutes earlier.)

From there, we all split up, heading home in various directions.

When it was all said and done, I had cycled close to 90 kilometers, my longest and most difficult ride of the year by far.

I had communed with a Neolithic monument.

I had laughed. And cried. And drank seven beers.

And when I awoke the next morning from the deep coma into which I had slipped, I felt as if an angry gang of midgets had kicked me mercilessly throughout the night.

Even my hair hurt. As Mark posted on Facebook a short time later:

"When I got home, my body just began spewing blood from my pores. Epic, but brutal ride."

Let's do it again soon.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 87 kilometers
Average speed: 14.2 kph
Maximum speed: 55.5 kph
Time on the bike: 6.07.04
Pivo Index: 7 (!)
Distance ridden so far in 2010: 504 kilometers

"You talking to me? You talking to ME?! Well, I'm the only one here."

Our bike map led us astray at one point when a marked tractor trail fizzled out into nothingness between Kolec and Zvoleněves. We alternately walked and rode our bikes across the soft, grassy soil.

On the trail near Okoř.

Enjoying the silence. Waiting for Stewart in Velké Přílepy.

The beautiful Baroque Assumption Church in the town of Zlonice.

Refilling our water bottles at a public well in Klobuky.

A Sunday spray of flowers along the route.

The Boys Are Back In Town

2010-09-07T20:42:00.022+03:00

That's me on the left, with Stewart (center) and Mark, before setting off on our "urban exploration."

Ahhhhh! It was so good to get back on the bike again.

Tires weighted down with about five kilos of mud. My ass throbbing from its abrupt reintroduction to the saddle. Lactic acid pooling in my thighs, burning like Cholula poured on an open wound. When I got home, I made the mistake of closing my eyes and quickly fell into a deep sleep, still mud-speckled and wearing my riding gear.

I can't believe I'm the guy with the biking blog.

Oh, I had a bit of fun, too.

I was out with my veteran cycling buddies Stewart and Mark. I've ridden a little bit this summer (at least in June), but I hadn't been out on a lengthy, challenging ride since early May, believe it or not. I think those guys have probably been out for at least one big ride since then.

But the point is, none of us has been tearing up the trails this summer.

Speaking for myself, it's been a mixture of general laziness, a lack of desire to ride solo, a busy schedule, and the fact that I was taking care of my mom for six weeks or so while she recuperated from a broken hip.

But there was no room for excuses anymore.

My mom's back home now and doing well, the sun was shining, and Stewart and Mark were interested in riding, too.

We agreed to meet at the old Koliba site at 9:30 a.m. last Saturday. We didn't have any idea where we'd go after that, but it's a good midway point for all of us -- me from my house in Černý Vůl, Stewart from his house in Roztoky, and Mark from his flat in Prague 6.

I love this picture, for some reason. It's of the facade of a bland but still kinda cool '70s-era office building on the east side of the Vltava, near Libeň.

After a brief debate, we decided on a little urban exploration. I'd show those guys Europe's Most Expensive Bike Path, which meant riding back to Prague 6, through Stromovka park, across the Vltava River near the zoo, and then down toward Libeň on the east side of the river.

Although it was an urban ride, there were only a few sections where we'd have to come into contact with cars, which sealed the deal. The rest was wide-open bike lanes and, I thought to myself, basically flat.

Can't ask for much more than that for my First Bike Ride in Ages.
Stewart wanted to show us the new highway that had recently opened in Roztoky, along the river between the village and Sedlec, and what he told us was a path near the highway. I was of the mind to ride on the old route, the now-closed Riegrova road that runs parallel to the new highway.

The lure of the new and unexplored eventually won the day, but we soon discovered that there really wasn't a path -- although you could see how you might think a path existed -- and our bikes quickly sank into the soft ground. It felt like we were pedaling our bikes with about 8Gs pressing against us.

Mud like brownie batter.

In one sense, it felt good to be grinding it up off-road, legs splattered with brownie batter, the taste of it not quite so sweet but somehow inspiring.

In another sense, it sucked.

We soon found a drainage ditch that served quite nicely as a trail, and we were off. Along the river, past the sewage treatment plant, through the lovely paths in Stromovka, across the river on the suspension bridge, then upriver on the pedestrian and cycling path toward Liben.

I'd only been on Europe's Most Expensive Bike Path once before, with my friend Rob. I had a few doubts that I'd be able to find my way again, but sure enough the landmarks all looked familiar and I was able to lead Stewart and Mark on a lovely little ride.

Many of these paths (it's not really one path but rather a number of paths that sort of connect) snake their way through some leafy sections of the Prague suburbs and are quite pleasant to ride. But in the interest of full disclosure, a few sections of the trail look over some pretty bleak neighborhoods and highways.

The trail meanders through some of the less appealing parts of Prague.

Along the way, the trail passed right through a creepy little carnival that featured more unsettling-looking carnies than customers.

I always find these tiny fairs to be really depressing. Usually there's some scratchy Czech pop tunes playing from a loudspeaker, rickety rides that probably haven't had a safety check since the commies were in power, sad-looking ponies waiting to walk forever in circles, and no one really smiling or even pretending to have a good time.

The sad little fair and its creepy carnies (above and below).

We cycled on.

Eventually, we got to a spot out in Prague 14 (!) where we didn't know whether to continue on a route that I sort of knew that eventually would take us to Prague 3 and the Žižkov neighborhood (not the most pleasant route, however, since it involved a lot of sidewalk and city riding) or simply explore in some different directions and see what happened.

We chose the latter, but basically ended up making a loop back to where we started, since all the trails we followed ended on major highways of one sort or another.

We decided just to ride back whence we came and grab a bite to eat at a pizza place, T'amo, that we'd passed that looked rather pleasant. Outdoor tables and all.

The beers tasted very good. My Spaghetti alla Bolognese not quite as tasty, but I had vowed to eat some carbs on my ride so I wouldn't "bonk," which is what had been happening to me earlier in the year.

Mark's pizza of spinach and sour cream (pictured below) was, he says, better than you'd expect "but not necessarily the best in town. It was undercooked, sadly (my biggest bugaboo about Prague pizzas, actually)."

We considered a third beer but thought the better of it. All of us basically had to be home by mid-afternoon for various reasons, so we headed back.

This time, Stewart and I took the "ghost road" between Sedlec and Roztoky, closed now to traffic since the new section of roadway was opened a few months ago.

You have to climb up and over an embankment and a set of railroad tracks with your bike to access the road now. There's no formal crossing point. You feel a bit of an outlaw. But there's no denying the pleasure of cycling on an empty road that you know, as a cyclist, will remain empty.

The sun was still shining, the clouds big and puffy in a bright blue sky. And I was back on my bike and on the trails with my friends. It felt great.

That is until I cycled the last six kilometers or so from Roztoky to Černý Vůl, via Únětice. As I've mentioned in this blog before, I dread that section of trail. It's gorgeous, but it features a subtle elevation almost all the way back, and it always comes at the end of my ride, when I'm tired and just want to get home.

It was all I could do to drag me and my bike home, my thighs crying out after each minuscule incline. It was pitiful.

Once home, I made the mistake of laying on my bed for one second before hopping in the shower and promptly fell asleep, still sweaty and dirty and Spandexed.

I gotta get out more.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 52 kilometers
Average speed: 13.7 kph
Maximum speed: 36.3 kph
Time on the bike: 5.11.07
Pivo Index: 2
Distance ridden so far in 2010: 417 kilometers

"One more beer?"

Urban archaeology: The beautiful remains of an old bridge hidden in the undergrowth along the trail.

The ghost road near the Vltava between Roztoky and Sedlec. No cars, no more.

The fantastic pedestrian/cycling path on the east side of Vltava, south of the zoo.

Shadows on the suspension bridge near the Prague Zoo.

I'm Still Here

2010-09-05T21:48:00.004+03:00

Yes, believe it or not, I have ridden.

It's hard to maintain a bike blog when you don't ride your bike. But it's been quite a summer. My mother, who was visiting me here in Prague, fell and broke her hip in early July, and her recuperation really put a damper on my usual routines.

I'm happy to say that she's now back home in Maryland after weeks of recovery here in Prague and doing very well, thanks. (Read about my mom and her accident here and here.)

Anyway, I'm back in the saddle. I went out on Saturday and, well, got a little muddy, as you can see.

Stay tuned for a full report on the ride in the next day or so.

And thanks for hanging in there. I really appreciate it.

Not Riding, And Not Happy About It (But What Can You Do?)

2010-08-03T13:31:00.004+03:00

Sunset in Brela, Croatia.

To all my readers, I apologize for not posting as of late. It's been quite a month, and I haven't been riding.

My mom, who was visiting from the States, fell and broke her hip. (You can read about that adventure here.)

And I was fortunate enough to be able to spend a week in Croatia recently, after Daisy and I split up our annual two-week holiday so one of us could always be in Prague to look after my mom. I didn't think I'd be able to go at all, frankly. It was so nice to be back in Brela, and a welcome break from the stress of the previous few weeks.

Anyway, I'm going to be accompanying my mom back to the U.S. on August 19, but I do hope to get in a ride or two between now and then, if I'm lucky.

Thanks for hanging in there, dear readers.

Perhaps it's a good chance to catch up on some of those Prague Bike Blog posts you've missed over the past three years!

I Take This GT Avalanche 2.0 To Be My Lawfully Wedded Ride

2010-07-17T17:02:00.003+03:00

James Gogarty and his bride, Lucie Průšova, getting hitched across the river in Klecany.

My apologies for not posting recently.

You see, my mother -- who was visiting Prague from the United States -- fell and broke her hip last week. I've been rather busy with that, as you might imagine, and haven't been riding, writing, or posting.

I'll be writing a post about the extraordinary events of the last week in my other blog, Gusto, so look for that.

In the meantime, I'll take a few minutes to catch up on two small rides I took a few weeks ago.

Fields of gold.

The first was a ride from Černý Vůl to Roztoky to attend the wedding reception of James Gogarty and Lucie Průšova.

Daisy, Emma and I all rode our bikes to the party, dressed in our finest biking casual. I first met James shortly after I started this blog. Stewart and I were having a beer at our beloved Koliba after a ride when this guy approached, having recognized us from the blog.

I thought to myself, "So this is how it's going to be! I'm going to be recognized everywhere I go, now that I'm writing this biking blog. Pretty cool."

It's never happened since.

Anyway, James was a cool dude, and we've gone cycling a few times over the past few years. (Our last ride is documented here.)

The reception -- at Hospůdka Zvířátka -- was fun, and the weather was perfect, and Lucie is a lovely woman, and James married up. (We missed the wedding itself, sadly, because we had to be at work.)

Outside of Roztoky, above Únětice.

The tipsy ride home, in the black night, was magical. About halfway through the forest, Daisy realized that we were surrounded by fireflies. Oddly, we'd never before seen lightning bugs in Prague, almost as if they'd become extinct.

We arrived home, smiling.

My second and last ride of late was another shorty, this time to Stewart's house in Roztoky. It was a ride with an interesting purpose: to drink some of Stewart's wine. He wanted me to taste it. He thought it might be bad.

He was right.

On my recommendation, he'd bought a box of Italian Sangiovese from my favorite wine shop, The Wine Depot, in Horoměřice. I'd drunk three or four boxes of that Sangiovese myself, all to the good. This particular box was, indeed, bad, however. It smelled like port or some sort of fortified wine, but didn't taste like port.

You could swallow it, but something about it wasn't quite right.

No matter how many times I pass poppy fields in the Czech Republic, I can't help but think of heroin, opium, and Afghanistan.

I told him to take it back and get his money back, but too much of it had been drunk by the time I got a taste. It was too late for refunds.

The ride home, in the gloaming, was gorgeous, the wheat fields glowing golden, the poppy fields shimmering green.

The wine helped a little, too.

RIDE STATS (COMBINED)
Length of ride: 24 kilometers
Pivo Index: 3
Vino Index: 3 or 4 glasses
Distance ridden so far in 2010: 365 kilometers (I'm not sure why I'm keeping this stat this summer. Pitiful, really.)

Checking Out Český Ráj

2010-07-08T10:58:00.003+03:00

Daisy, me, and the Honda Shadow 600 outside the Hrubá Skála Chateau. Taken by a passer-by and, sadly, slightly out of focus.

It takes more love to share the saddle than it does to share the bed. -- Unknown

Ever since I got my Czech motorcycle license two years ago, and bought my 2002 Honda Shadow 600, I've had this dream of going on an overnight motorcycle trip with Daisy.

While that may strike you as a perfectly reasonable goal given that 1) I have a motorcycle, and 2) Daisy was entirely agreeable to the idea, somehow I just hadn't been able to get it together.

The Hrubá Skála chateau.

Part of it, I’m sure, was a certain apprehension to committing to such an adventure. I'm a relatively new motorcycle rider, I don't have tons of experience riding with a passenger, Czech drivers are insane and aren't used to motorcycles sharing their highways, and I don't speak the language all that well, should a problem arise.

Uneasy rider, if you will.

But when you've got a blog called Gusto, there's not much chance of backing out of something like this.

I had to go for it.

Which I did. Or I should say we did.

And where did we go?

Daisy looks across to the chateau from one of the many overlooks.

We decided to check out Český Ráj, or Czech Paradise, a justly celebrated region of the Czech Republic that we had somehow, in all our years of living here, never visited. It's famous for its spectacular sandstone rock towers and its Middle Earth-like landscape in the valleys below. The hiking is superb, and I was looking forward to working up a mean thirst.

Plus, Český Ráj is only some 120 kilometers or so from our house in Černý Vůl, at least via the country-road route I chose for this trek -- a quite manageable two-hour ride or so on the motorcycle. (It's more like 90 kilometers on the highways direct from Prague.)

Climbers scaling one of the many spectacular rock towers.

More climbers.

I reserved a "luxe" room at the 14th-century Hrubá Skála Chateau or castle, in Hrubá Skála, a village around 6 kilometers southeast of Turnov, which had been recommended to me by a couple of friends, one of whom got married there. It commands sweeping views of that part of Český Ráj and is surrounded by the aforementioned sandstone monoliths.

So after work on a recent Friday, we went home, threw off our work clothes, dressed in our biking finest, stuffed my Honda saddlebags with the bare essentials (underwear, toiletries, backgammon, a bottle of Bohemia Sekt Brut), slipped on our helmets, and hit the road.

Daisy goes rogue among the sandstone formations.

And you know what? As soon as rubber met road, all my apprehension disappeared, like those big trucks in my rear-view mirror. The sun was shining, the tank was full, the weekend lay ahead, and my baby was behind me.

As someone once said, only a biker knows why a dog sticks his head out of a car window. What a thrill it is to be zipping along winding country roads, leaning this way and that, the wind in your face, the smells of manure and flowers and wheat fields baking in the sun wafting around inside your helmet.

And I still get a kick out of observing that unwritten code of motorcycling (I had to learn it by experience; no one ever tells you these things) -- that is, always waving, nonchalantly, at other motorcyclists passing in the opposite direction. Just an effortless extension and slight turn of the left wrist, or a slowly extended left foot if your hands are otherwise occupied. (And distinctions are definitely made for those riding on whiny Vespas or other type of scooters. They don't deserve waves.)

We meandered from Černý Vůl to Kralupy, up to Velvary, over to Melnik, then connected to Mladá Boleslav, up to Turnov, and then a few more kilometers to our destination -- up the winding, leafy, sun-dappled country road to the spectacularly situated Hrubá Skála.

At Hrubá Skála, I parked the bike, killed the engine, and thought, "We made it!"

How was the hotel? Well, you couldn't ask for a better location, but it's sorely in need of someone to read the staff the proverbial Riot Act. Food at the restaurant was OK but seriously hampered by lackadaisical, albeit friendly, service. We ate outside on the terrace overlooking the valley and saw many couples waiting endlessly to get noticed by the waiters.

Even though we were generally fairly served in comparison, watching other couples be ignored kinda ruins your own meal, you know?

The breakfast "buffet" the next morning was also one of the saddest such displays we've encountered. Bland, unimaginative food, and atrocious attention to items that had run out, like coffee and milk, let alone eggs and bread. Even though we arrived a full hour before breakfast ended, there was little left to choose from except a few slices of cheese and meat and one boiled hot dog.)

Our room.

Another view of our room.

The view from our hotel window.

Our "luxe" room -- No. 122, which set us back around $115 per night) was quite lovely and had its own spacious toilet facilities (a rarity at this hotel, where most of the rooms share baths down the hall). Horrifyingly, however, the jacuzzi bathtub was suffering from a rather large infestation of ants, most of them, interestingly, winged.

After I brought the problem to her attention, the woman at the front desk quickly offered us another room, but it was a standard double and paled in comparison. Housekeeping was gone for the day, so Daisy bravely tackled the vermin with a can of Raid while I sipped a beer on the terrace. (Hey, she volunteered!)

We never saw another ant for the rest of the weekend, and spent the rest of our time hiking, sleeping, eating, and drinking.

We explored all the trails winding around above, below and around the chateau. We gawked at the rock climbers scaling the sandstone towers, and discovered a hushed memorial to fallen Czech climbers hidden deep in the forest. We picked wild blueberries (at least that's what I think they were) in the forest, and drank a few beers and had a snack at a whimsical teahouse nestled within a tiny arboretum not far from the chateau.

We looked (unsuccessfully) for our first geocache near the Adam's Bed rock formation (across from which is an "erotic" sandstone relief of two lovers, which was apparently defaced in more modest times) and drank wine and played backgammon on the chateau's outdoor terrace.

We had a great time.

Despite all that, though, I couldn't wait to get back on the Shadow on Sunday for the ride home. My confidence had been firmly rooted. We took a different route back, this time mostly on highway all the way back to Prague.

We reached a top speed of around 112 kph, which for me, especially with a passenger, is quite fast. There's no windshield on my bike, and you'd be surprised at how hard the wind pounds you in the chest when you're going 90 or 100 kph. Choppers are meant for slow, easy riding, which is why the country roads around here are so perfect. That's my kind of riding.

As we ate dinner on Saturday night, a hot-air balloon drifted over the castle.

Now, we're planning to go back, perhaps to explore the trails around the more touristy Prachovské skály area of Český Ráj. And that's just the thing. Even though the chateau left a lot to be desired in many significant areas, we'd probably stay there again when we revisit this area. It felt rather private and a lot less trampled than what we saw of Prachovské skály as we drove past on the way home.

We'll take Emma back with us next time. Then again, there was a decent looking campground near Prachovské Skály, so we might just go that route, too.

The Middle Earth-like rock formations and valleys surrounding the chateau (above and below).

A charming little teahouse in an arboretum near the chateau. In addition to tea, they served beer and light snacks, as well as homemade tie-died clothing. Very cool.

Enjoying a few beers and some surprisingly tasty couscous at the teahouse.

A memorial to fallen Czech climbers deep in the forest near the chateau.

Someone in this photo needs a haircut.

The twin towers of the 14th-century Trosky Castle overlook the Český Ráj region.

Wine and backgammon on the terrace.

Trying, unsuccessfully (and rather ridiculously), to locate my first geocache near the Adam's Bed rock formation.

Itching To Get Out

2010-06-24T23:11:00.004+03:00

It's hard to think of a more beautiful sight for a cyclist that pedaling past fields of rapeseed on a car-less path through the forest.

Sometimes when I start a ride, I wonder if I'll find anything interesting to write about or photograph. Rarely am I disappointed. Themes somehow magically present themselves.

I went out the other day for a solo ride and later linked up with Daisy and Emma for the second part. The weather was perfect. I hadn't been on my bike for awhile and was itching to get out.

I left my house in Černý Vůl and headed to Statenice and then Tuchoměřice. From there, I cycled up to Kněževes, and then down a beautiful country road to the village of Středokluky.

From there, it was across to the hamlet of Cernovicky and then down a dirt path to Číčovice and Malé Číčovice before arriving in --yes, you guessed it -- Okoř, where I had a beer before heading back home to Černý Vůl through Lichoceves and Statenice.

On this part of the ride, I became fascinated by all the tiny architectural details on the houses, barns, shops, chateaus, and hotels I passed on my ride.

I couldn't stop to take pictures of them all, but I did photograph a whimsical eyebrow window, the Art Nouveau façade on a delightful village inn, the orange-tiled roof of a lovely chapel, and the year 1914 on the gable of a house in Statenice (not because of how old it is, for there are homes here dating back hundreds of years, but because I loved the font).

Once I got back home, I hooked up with Daisy and Emma and we rode the path to Únětice and Roztoky. We cycled through the village of Roztoky to the riverbank, where we linked up with the paved cycling trail that follows the west side of the riverbank north toward Úholičky.

It's a great ride for parents and children. There's really not much to worry about, other than running into other cyclists or rollerbladers.

I'm pretty sure this was Emma's longest-ever bike ride. I think it was around 24 kilometers round-trip from our house. She did great.

Daisy and Emma on the wonderful bike path along the west side of the Vltava River, above Roztoky.

We stopped in at Hospůdka Zvířátka for beers, ice teas, and sausages (I dearly love that pub, but it was one of the worst klobasas I've ever had) and then it was home.

This ride proved that, as usual in Prague, when you're on your bike, you don't have to venture far from home before you encounter something that will make you smile or take note.

Adventure's always around the corner when you're on two wheels.

RIDE STATS
Length of ride: 47 kilometers
Average speed: 14.9 kph
Maximum speed: 47.8 kph
Time on the bike: 3.09.42
Pivo Index: 2
Distance ridden so far in 2010: 341 kilometers

Rapeseed in full flower.

From a distance, I saw this salmon-colored smear across the landscape near Tuchoměřice. I just had to investigate

It was a vast field of poppies. (Cue "Wizard of Oz" references)

Emma and Daisy heading south along the Vltava.

Enjoying a half-liter of Pilsner Urquell in Okoř.

Architectural details on the outside of the Pension u Svatého Prokopa, housed in a 17th-century farmhouse in Středokluky. I've always wanted to stop in there for a beer or spend the night. Looks lovely.

A chapel in the village of Středokluky.

Poppies against a field of wheat near Knezeves.

Roses spied from afar on a balcony in Tuchoměřice.

A woodpile near Statenice.