NATO and Me

The last time I was with NATO was in 1984. A student at Amsterdam, I was called up for a refresher/mobilization exercise to see if I could still handle the early 1960s gasoline truck I had learned to drive during my year of military service in 1982. When I got the call-up, that morning in 1984, I had to drop everything I was doing, get my gear (which I had brought home with me after completing my year of training), and head over to the meeting point near the city of Eindhoven, because we were pretending there was an international crisis and our unit had to prepare its vehicles and head East to meeting invading Warsaw Pact forces. It was like my year as a conscript: lots of waiting, lots of lame but adequate jokes, very mediocre food, and some driving around. The really good part was that lots of guys I had served with in 1982 got called up too, so it was a bit like a reunion. The bad part was that after arriving we basically had to go two nights without sleep before heading out into early morning rush hour traffic at 20 m/h. That was really dangerous, because there was no way you could keep your eyes open, even though you were fully aware of the situation. I remember slapping myself non-stop, sticking my head out the window, screaming at the top of my lungs, and still having my eyes close on me. At least one truck drove off the road, into a tree. I was really upset, because I was driving around with about 6,000 liters of gasoline on my back, surrounded by regular traffic going two or three times my speed. But other than that, it's a great memory. The memories of 1982 are almost all positive also, although at the time I would not have predicted this. Tomorrow, I'll be going back, but I doubt if it will be as eventful. As a guest of the Dutch Atlantic Commission I'll be part of a group of Dutch academics visiting NATO headquarters outside Brussels for a series of meetings with alliance officials about a variety of current NATO matters (for example the new strategic concept). It should still be pretty interesting, even though there are no former army buddies on the list of participants. If any of them reads this, maybe it's time for another reunion?

Big Day

A second cycling post in a row, but today happens only once a year: first day in shorts--yesssir! We got our first snow before Christmas, and since that time it's been miserable (certainly for these parts), with frequent snow and other wintry precipitation. Just last Monday I rode home, start to finish, in a cold rain that made me cranky all evening (from fatigue). Tuesday was better, and yesterday I cleaned my commuter (the very old 1992 Trek 2300) and my winter bike (the good old 2001 Klein) outside, without wearing a coat. It was a lot of work, even for a half-ass job. This morning at 8:30 it was chilly, but I was fine in my summer shoes, two long-sleeve layers and a vest, and no gloves. Tights still, of course. During the day it really warmed up. Lots of people in Amsterdam were sitting outside by the middle of the day, and the 60 or so degrees felt otherworldly. So there I went, around 5:30: shorts and very pale-looking legs. But pretty smooth. The shaving job of two weeks ago still made a difference. It was so mild that my two long-sleeve layers on top actually felt too warm. It was my third day back-and-forth this week, and this on top of a very good Saturday ride with the Eendracht boys (59 cold and windy miles) and my first 200 mile week of the year thanks to the Tuscany trip. So I wasn't exactly flying, but I did ride home the long way, and I certainly enjoyed myself.

Under Tuscan Skies

PMCV (Pittsburgh Masters Velo Club) Europe traveled to Tuscany on March 6 for four days of spring training. Amid many last-minute work-related activities on Thrusday, March 4, the Dutch department spent half an hour shaving his legs in anticipation of the opportunity, surely to present itself, to do a ride or two in shorts. PMVC Holland and PMVC Italy celebrated the launch of their adventure the next evening, at their favorite pizza restaurant in Verona. Before the drive to Tuscany on Saturday, there was time for an easy warm-up ride to the resort town of Bardolino on Lake Garda. The riders, if they say so themselves, looked sharp and relaxed all at once on their Nikor machines expertly tuned by friend and mechanic Carlo. It was a sunny but cool Saturday morning, so no shorts. There was time for a quick coffee in Bardolino where, just having passed a frozen puddle on the way into town, we wisely decided against joining the half dozen cyclists outside on the patio by the marina. Neither did we follow the example of several women (Dutch, according to Michele) whom we encountered downtown holding big scoops of gelato. Early that evening we joined a few dozen Verona cyclists at a resort outside of the Tuscan town of San Vincenzo (south of Livorno, north of Follonica) for the first of a series of adequate, but for San Vero Milis veterans wholly unremarkable, meals. Sunday it was cool and sunny again, definitely not shorts weather. Full gloves at the start, plus two layers of long-sleeves under a vest. A nice up-and-down 68 miler, most of it together with three members of the Grezzana team (from a Verona suburb). After the five of us separated ourselves from the larger group of Masters riders of various levels, we easily fell into a pace line rotation--my first of the season. It is always a wonderful feeling to do your first pace line of the year, it makes you feel like a cyclist again the way no amount of solo training miles can do. Part of the way we rode towards the riders of the Granfondo Cecina, which we could have joined ourselves but given the limited amount of training so far this year wisely skipped. The afternoon, after lunch, was spent on intellectual activity in the hotel room. Social activity not encouraged. Urged on by Michele, I did go for a walk on the beach, in sight of Elba island and a setting sun. A good thing I went then, because the weather the following days made the beach a virtual no-go area. On Monday it became clear definitively that the legs had been shaved for nothing. That day we did another 68 miler, quite windy and quite cool again, as part of a larger group in which a major rivalry developed (we imagined) between the Liquigas riders (Big Liquigas and Little Liquigas) on the one hand, and Grezzana supplemented by PMVC on the other. We kicked their behinds, truth be told, in spite of a missed turn by me (corrected in a fortuitously available driveway). In the afternoon we drove to a grey, cold, and windy Follonica, where I did get some gelato and also bought a pair of Whistle cycling socks (in honor of Joe Papp, of the long-defunct Partisan Whistle Granfondo team). Tuesday we woke up to ... snow and gale force winds. Nobody rode that day. Instead, there was a drive into town, where it was empty of people and only 2 degrees Celsius, lots of intellectual activity, and a visit to the sauna to break up the long stretch between lunch and dinner. This was the one occasion where I could show off my shaved legs, but I don't think anyone noticed. Wednesday was only marginally better, but at least it was dry at the 9am departure time. Supplemented by several new, and stronger, Grezzana riders, we went out toward Bolgheri, of the famous Viale dei Cipressi Bolgheri. One of the new Grezzana guys, we referred to him as "the big guy," set a good rid-out pace, and we never really slowed down after that, in spite of the rapidly worsening conditions. The ride became near-epic, even though it was only 33 miles long. Wind, wet roads, and a cold drizzle contributed to that, together with the pace, our soaked and near-freezing state toward the end, and last but not least the snow on the streets in the village of Bolgheri. I could not follow all the discussions in the group, but I think finding snow at this only slightly elevated site led to the decision to make this a quick out-and-back hammerfest (a hammerfest was obligatory just to stay warm), with a quick coffee stop in the middle. It would have been foolish not to stop at the excellent coffee house. Michele carried the PMVC computer, so he can add the speeds at various points, but this last ride certainly felt like the real thing, and we both agreed that together with the other outings, it made us better. Mission accomplished, therefore, although the wait for spring continues.

Barack Baines Obama

Did an op-ed this week about where health care reform is headed after Obama's summit with the Republicans. First I take the Economist to task for that one-sided editorial ten days ago (Washington isn't broken, it's the politicians, especially Obama; with the implication that "if only" the president had reached out to Republicans, there could have been a lot more progress--gimme a break), then I essentially argue that Obama needs to emulate Lyndon Johnson as much as he can if he wants a health care reform bill passed this spring. Get on the phone and flatter, cajole, intimidate, and bribe to assemble the required number of votes. I'd write more, but I'm packing for a little spring training in Tuscany. (It sounds casual, but it will be my first time--there will be a report in a week or so).