The empty city

The abandoned lakefront

You can walks for miles here and not see another human. Life is like a post- apocalyptic movie, maybe "On The Beach." Even lone pedestrians and dog-walkers are rare, though, as Ms. V says, in this scenario, "pups win!" with owners home all day and itching to get out.

Stay well. Stay in. Wash your grimy hands!

The Riverwalk

Two lone souls, plus dog

Keeping my social distance

Every day is a winding road
(was it Sheryl Crow?) 

How are you all out there in cyberland? Hope you are safely ensconced in your hermetically sealed house with, say, just one friend you don't mind getting sick with. If you can get by without the illness part, congratulations, you're doing better than Tom Hanks.

We've been washing our hands many times a day and trying not to touch our faces. But when you remember that you shouldn't touch your face, what do you do? Touch your face. Then you have to wash your hands again.

We made a plan to escape the winter blahs some months ago. We thought we'd fly to Atlanta and ride with Sister S and b-i-l J to the artsy little mountain town of Asheville, NC, for some walking and light shopping. But when it came to it, us over-60 old fogies, and me with gimp health, we cashed in our tickets and drove. It was 12 hours in the car each way -- Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee, North Carolina -- but it was the right decision. Ms. V heroically drove every mile both ways, not so much because I'm a bad driver but, the way I see it, because she's a bad passenger.

We stayed in a little hillside house in the woods, had one eat-out brunch, and ate take-out Thai. In town we checked out the art shops along the river -- virtually deserted, because of the damp weather, or the coronavirus, one. I chatted with a woman in a shop laboring over a 3-D found-object piece, and watched a veteran glass artist working her torch about a tube of glass, instructing an apprentice, and I wanted to say to the young woman, "Maybe a career in IT is a better choice?"

So now we're home, picking up the pieces.

*

I did 100 miles in my first new-bike week, then the weather went punk, my spirits sagged, and we went on our little trip.

*

And the DNC? I went to a meeting a couple weeks back. It was very organized, an hour and a half, and we listened as four presenters discussed the convention and what kind of help they need. They had set a goal of 15,000 volunteers -- about 10,000 had already signed up (though "we never stop recruiting") -- and they expect 50,000 people to attend. They liked Milwaukee for the relatively regular grid pattern of its streets, making for easy navigation, and the fact that the Milwaukee Theater and Fiserv Forum -- and, for that matter, most downtown hotels -- are just blocks from each other. An improvement over Philadelphia, where venues were miles apart.

But now the coronavirus has arrived, so I wonder if they'll even hold it.

        

Tough little North Carolina vine

Asheville

Sally Ride

I wanted a new drug, so I bought a new bike. Disc brakes, fenders, taillight, cargo rack -- the whole shebang. I rode it in the parking lot, but the weather's unbefitting, so I won't sully it proper till it's nicer out.

It's got a macho look, doesn't it? But I'm going to call it Sally -- Sally Ride.

Ben's Cycle here in town set me up nice. The whole process -- choosing, paying, outfitting it -- had a ceremonial feel, which is, I know, ridiculous, but there are just so many new bikes in a life so you kind of have to savor it. Smell the oil!

So my plan is to finish my ride a year from now, spring of 2021. I would pick it up somewhere  in Michigan, and ride across Ontario. Ms. V and I have kind of a busy summer, and I don't think I'd be ready if I tried to do it this year.

I feel fortunate to still be able to bike, and to afford such a bike!

*

I'm volunteering for the DNC convention, held here in Milwaukee this year. The first meeting is tonight, so we'll see what that's like. I hope this doesn't shock any of my Trumpist readers out there, but, well, I'll let the chips fall.

Overdue thanks

I don't know his name.
There's a bike in the distance there,
and some of our equipment strewn out along the road.
(Eaton County photos here and below,)

To contribute to the Muscular Dystrophy Association, click here: JON'S MDA DRIVE

What I'm grateful for this Thanksgiving is this man and his many first-responding colleagues who took care of Mark and me in the immediate aftermath of our August 22 crash in Michigan. As the picture below shows, I was in no shape to help myself. They responded within minutes, in many vehicles, and seemed to have dropped everything to come out and get us. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

I have spent a lot of time in my life crabbing about the excesses of cops, but this right here is the flip side, the good work that doesn't get a lot of press and is under-appreciated.

Eaton County, which has a law enforcement office that keeps track, sent us a huge, highly detailed accident report, with dozens of photos, witness statements, voice interaction between officers, status updates and a statement from the driver of the car that hit us.

I feel bad for the girl. She's just 18, and I'm guessing she struggles with the basics that I take for granted.

*

This is me:

Zonked. I have no memory of this.

And here's the car that hit us, and the (significant) damage we did:

So, to all you bikers out there, count your blessings, and ride carefully!!

*

Update on Mark: A week ago he said he was in PT three or four times a week, putting more weight on his leg, and using just one crutch indoors on level surfaces. He was about to graduate to a cane. He has some nerve damage that has impacted his foot action, which may or may not improve. If it doesn't, he said he may need more surgery and/or a brace.

He was hit first, and much harder than myself.

Life is a wall

  

Mike, Jon, Chris

To contribute to the Muscular Dystrophy Association, click here: JON'S MDA DRIVE

Saturday was a full and multifarious day that began with a reunion of three of us who started the long bike ride together way back in May. Chris and I met up with Mike Lynam for lunch and found that everybody still liked everybody else. Mike's a doctor and he was able to consult with Chris on the topic of statins, and I looked for opportunities for humor. A fine meal.

Then later was the event I came for -- the MDA Wall Crush. We had about 50 climbers of all kinds, and we raised  $5000 for MDA, thanks largely to the efforts of Kristi Sogn and the generosity of Cirque Climbing.

Climbing is a whole subculture that I never knew existed. It draws fitness buffs and a lot of people who climb outdoors looking for a way to stay in shape when the season ends. Like, say, running, or swimming, how good you are is less important than that you do it. We had kids, lean tattooed women, craggy well-built men, little girls, high school teams and a tennis pro from Belgium.

Everybody climbed, climbed and climbed. Some would reach the top, come back down down and start right back up again. This was a competition, and points were accumulated by the marked difficulty of the route. Some chose to do easier routes many times -- say, 50 points or less (as little as 10) -- and others went after higher-point routes -- as much as 500, for example -- that were much more challenging.

Routes constituted of a series of "holds" of a specific color -- so that if you're doing red, you can't use a black or yellow hold, which are parts of different routes. And safety was built in to every route. No one went up without a rope that would stop a fall (though pulling on them to ascend is a rule violation). In most cases the rope was a "top rope" hung from a bracket at the top of the climb and affixed to the climber's belt, with the slack taken up by a belayer on the ground.  

Working at a more difficult, higher-point route, the climber would go up with the rope not fixed at the top, but just tied to his or her belt. As the climber ascends, he or she would put rope manually through a series of clips hanging at intervals, so that a fall would be arrested by the belayer when the climber fell to the most recent clip attached -- maybe as much as five feet? Seven feet? Something like that. Using the clips, which requires extra time, more closely approximates outdoor climbing conditions, climbers said. This kind of climbing, if what I've said makes any sense, is called "lead climbing."

I watched two little girls -- maybe 10? -- run from route to route, climbing every one. They raced reach other and squabbled over who won. They were completely absorbed, growing stronger with every climb. It was like a playground to them -- a joy to see.

Satchel Sogn, Kristi's son, won the fastest-climber title, going up the assigned route -- practically running up it -- in just 8.8 seconds. And his team won the team title.

Here are some views:

Pre-teens on the way up.

Satchel (foreground) on belay

Coming back down

A 150-point route (all the way up on red holds)

A crowded wall

Belayers at work

A chiropractor offered adjustments

Satchel (second from left) and his winning team, La Monkeys.

Mike's fancy meal at lunch.

Climber food at the gym. 

Climber Chris

Climber Molly

All done!

In Olympia

To contribute to the Muscular Dystrophy Association, click here: JON'S MDA DRIVE

Later today we'll have a fundraising wall climb event at Cirque Climbing gym out here in suburban Olympia, Washington. I came Thursday and was at the gym for parts of the last two days, mostly watching other people work -- though I did stuff 60 T-shirts into  brown paper bags!

Kristi's artistic and organizational skills have driven this. She's collected donations from area businesses for great prizes -- dozens of them -- including sponsorships for different climbs. Wine tasting, theater tickets, bicycle services, and more are among the prizes. Then we have a "goodie bag" for everybody, including T-shirts. Thirty-two people had registered by yesterday, and we think that 50 will attend, which would be great number for the gym. Cirque is donating the $40 per person entrance fee to the MDA, and I think about $2000 has been raised so far. This money will be added to my donate page when all is said and done. It'll put me over $15,000!

Meanwhile I've been hanging out at my cousin Molly's house while she tries to write a sermon for Sunday. We walked the dogs -- Suzi and Ben -- and went out to my uncle Mark's house, on the water, to drop off a car. Alas, Mark, the happy-go-lucky geriatric, is in Palm Springs.

Here's a few pix:

T-shirt bags

Jasper, Chris's son, and Dexter, Molly's son. Jasper's World War II outfit was for a Veteran's Day event at school.
They're both swimmers. And of course Chris had to photobomb this. 

T-shirt logo. Note the bike!

Like I said, you won't see me doing this, even at low altitude.

Mark's house

Approach to Mark's house

Heron on the dock!

Molly with Suzi (left) and Benny

Another new wrinkle

At Cirque Climbing, Lacey, Washington
(Kristi's art!)

To contribute to the Muscular Dystrophy Association, click here: JON'S MDA DRIVE

Strange how one thing leads to another. I'm going out to my cousins' house in Olympia, Washington, to attend a new fundraiser for MDA. It's driving them up the walls! You won't see me doing this, but I'll be there sending out my MDA vibes.

This is the brainchild of Kristi and Chris -- my social media support group during the Coast to Coast ride. (Sigh, my ride -- too bad it ended the way it did, short one coast.) I have, I confess, slowly and quietly upped the ante by raising my goal, which now stands at $15,000, and I'm a little short. Maybe this will close the gap.

Hope this finds everybody well.  Sorry I've been out of touch. It seemed like all I had to say there for a while was, yeah, I'm still eating.

Here's a couple more pix: