Learning more about the commute

For example: I got rained on a couple of times today and yesterday, but it really wasn't too bad. When a shower approached (on three of the four legs) I quickly pulled out the rain jacket (both my jackets fit over the backpack, though not together, although I haven't tried that) and thus managed to keep my upper body dry. The showers didn't last longer than 5-10 minutes anyway. More encouraging: the combination of fenders, mud flap (on the front fender--still without seated female figure, the way you see them on trucks) and the excellent Sidi winter shoes kept my feet dry. I'm sure if I had non-stop rain the entire 55 minutes into Amsterdam eventually they'd get wet, but today the last ten minutes it rained pretty hard, and it really didn't matter. What does matter, I'm afraid, is that the chain etc. are totally exposed. I heard squeaking this afternoon, on only the second rainy day. I think I'll be cleaning and lubing my chain on a regular basis. Other discovery: I think I've got a pretty good parking place in the basement of my building in Amsterdam. Not only has my bike not been messed with in this first month, today I forgot to take off my nice bungee cord, which I use to tie my slippers to the seat-post rack (I use the slippers to walk from the locker room downstairs in my building to my office, where I keep a pair of regular shoes). When I returned to the basement early this evening I found it hanging off the seat, in full view, exactly where I left it this morning. Final conclusion (something I've know for a few weeks now): this little 14 mile commute is actually hard work in my current set up of 28 mm wide city tires (Continentals), seat post rack (with lock and cable), fenders and wind-catching mud flap, and backpack. Whenever I get passed by guys commuting on actual racing bikes with none of these accessories (except a little backpack), I just have to remind myself that the old green-yellow Trek really isn't a racing bike any more. Instead, it's a steady-pace bike ("doorfiets fiets," not a "hardfiets fiets"--in Dutch). I haven't taken it off the small chainring, for example, and I doubt if I ever will on these rides. Still, has to be pretty good base miles.

A Fine Cycling Sunday

The Sunday ride felt extra good, given that I had to work yesterday (and in the days before yesterday work hard to get ready). Lots of pent-up energy that needed to get out, and it did. The ride, "Nieuwkoop," also belongs in the book 100 Bike Rides out of Nederhorst den Berg, if one ever got written. I knew parts of it, but not everything. And I still don't know parts of it, because the first hour-and-a-half we rode in a thick, chilly fog. Two new (to me) members of the group, one of whom really could do his share of the work. I hope he comes back for more. Absolutely no climbing, only a few bridges and viaducts, but lots of little curvy dikes alongside little rivers and canals. They can say what they want over here, but what's left of the so-called Groene Hart (green heart) of the Netherlands certainly is worth protecting. We followed the Vecht river to Breukelen, then, by way of Kockengen, to Woerdense Verlaat (in the good winters of the eighties, I'd go there for excellent skating tours), then a little backroad, Kadewetering, to the road alongside the Meije to Zwammerdam, right turn, another right turn straight to Nieuwkoop where we stopped for coffee after about thirty miles. Fine local cafe with excellent apple pie, although the coffee was a bit weak. The sun was out when we got back on our way: Noorden and Noordens Dorp to Woerdense Verlaat, where we took a left turn to follow the Kromme Mijdrecht river through De Hoef into Amstelhoek. I used to ride this road in the eighties as a student but had not been there in at least ten years. It was great fun motoring through turn after turn there. A right, then a left onto the Tienboerenweg, a left onto the Veldweg, and eventually tracing the Waver river to Stokkelaarsbrug, and from there to Abcoude where we picked up the last little river: het Gein. I had almost 62 miles for the day, and the average was just about 20. Just before Abcoude we did lose two of our guys, but they were close to home, so I'm sure they were fine. Already before we sat down for coffee in the morning, Flemish t.v. had started its start-to-finish coverage of the World's. I checked in when I got home (nothing much happening yet at only 70 kilometers in), but when we returned from our Sunday pancake in the sun at the restaurant across the street (it may have been the last time this year, although one never knows) things were beginning to happen, and the final hour was pretty exciting. The Italians played it to perfection, the Belgians fought valiantly, so did the Danes and Robert Gesink, and Spain got outmaneuvered. I think I'm ready to get back to work now. (Whether after three weeks of excellent weather I'm ready for the wet, windy, and cool days we're supposed to get this week is another matter).

Off-Peak Bike Commute

That's really the way to go, if you can swing it. For one thing, you avoid the Dutch junior high and high school kids who ride to school in packs, three or four wide, taking up the entire bike path and only yielding, if at all, at the last minute. It can make for hairy situations. Today, I first did some work at home, then around eleven got on my way. It's mild fall weather in Holland (60s and sunny with little wind), and I rode in shorts again (long sleeves, though). I also finally took my friend Piet's advice and followed the Vecht river all the way into the city of Weesp. That way, you avoid riding the bike path (perfectly safe) alongside a busy highway. It's a slight detour, but Piet is right to say that it's more that worth it. He's been doing this for years, and it's clear he knows what he's talking about. On the other side of Weesp you pick up the little road alongside the Amsterdam Rijnkanaal (where I only saw one ship today, the entire way to Amsterdam; this made it less interesting; also, deserted, the canal looked not nearly as forbidding). The section behind the Central train station in the city was easier too, with not nearly as many ferry passengers trying to get across the bikepath. Tuesday is going to be different: it's supposed to rain, and I'll have to head out around 7 am.

David Brooks v. Volkskrant: 1-0

I only just saw David Brooks' column of last Tuesday with a useful broader perspective on the current financial-economic crisis--or, as one should probably say, financial-economic-political crisis. It's not new to suggest that politics (both ideology and practical legislative measures or lack thereof) have much to do with the problems in the financial sector. However, I found Brooks' analysis of how the crisis, and its probable resolution, is creating a new U.S. political-financial "establishment" insightful as well as somewhat reassuring. More insightful certainly than this morning's Volkskrant, which has several pieces on the crisis where a combination of resentment toward the U.S. and glee over its crisis outweighs careful analysis. I will name names, why not: Marcel van Dam, and the often more interesting Michael Zeeman. (I don't see these articles on the website, so you'd have to go out and buy the paper, which you should do with many different papers on a regular basis anyway)

The end of U.S. leadership?

One way to look at the significance of America's financial woes (and how the rest of the world is affected by them) is to argue that the United States continues to be central to international affairs, in spite of how it has tied itself down in Iraq and Afghanistan, and in spite of the widespread anti-Americanism around the world. What America does or does not do, or what America goes through, remains of crucial importance in today's interconnected ("globalized") world. Another view comes from today's International Herald Tribune, which quotes Treasury Secretary Paulson on its front page as saying: "This is a humbling, humbling time for the United States of America," and which prints an excellent column by Roger Cohen entitled "The Fleecing of America." Its thesis is that where during the financial crises of the 1990s the U.S. almost automatically took a leadership role to ensure the stability of the international financial system, no other country is stepping up to assist U.S. authorities in coping with the current crisis, in spite of many shared risks. This thesis can, for its part, be interpreted in two--complimentary--ways: One, as Cohen writes, the world feels that the Americans have to reap what they sowed, it's their problem (no reciprocity, no acknowledgement of shared interests, instead: lots of Schadenfreude). Two, the fact that in this U.S.-made, international crisis no other power steps up to shoulder part of the burden shows that while the U.S. may be losing influence on all fronts (certainly compared to a decade or so ago), nobody can take over (or even tries to share) its international leadership role. No single country, no EU, no UN, nobody. National banks are intervening to prop up money markets, but that's mostly in the national interest. Private non-U.S. financial interests, meanwhile, are lobbying fiercely to get a piece of the proposed $700 billion bail-out package. In the end, therefore, we may return to the opening view here: America may temporarily be distracted and "humbled," in the grand scheme of things it remains the only power capable and willing to assume a leadership role.

Limburg hills

I got one today I had not done yet: the Fromberg. Nothing shocking, but a nice little climb, fairly steep at the bottom, then a long, much easier section (where you could really put down the hammer if you could make the switch from the steeper part). John, Olaf and I did it as part of a fifty miler which also included the Keutenberg, often the decider in the Amstel Gold Race, and the Cauberg (where the AGR finishes), along with lots of other little climbs. The Keutenberg I did in my lightest gear, 39x23, mostly standing up, the Cauberg too, but mostly sitting down. (Jeff, click on the links, and start studying!). Very nice day, and even though there were lots of riders out (there always are here), some part of organized tours, it was notably quieter than in our part of the country, also when it got to be late morning and early afternoon. Limburg is probably the only part of the Netherlands where cyclists don't automatically order apple pie. Instead, they order "vlaai," a local fruit pie specialty (also for sale at Schiphol airport). So we got cherry vlaai at our stop in Gulpen. They give you a tiny glass of water with your coffee. Other nice southern detail: with the coffee they brought out a shot glass of whipped cream with a little liquer. I didn't order coffee, but John and Olaf did. They both emptied their shot glasses and climbed the next hill like maniacs. They know how to live and how to treat their guests, down there. Next time, I'll order coffee too.

Team ride!

The weather has been very nice (no rain now for almost two weeks already) and after being cooped-up at the house working for the past two days I decided that today was the day I'd check out the weekly training ride of Wielerclub de Eendracht (sponsored by Viks, among others). They had e-mailed me that there were only going to be two more weekend rides before the switch to mountain bikes for the winter, and next week I know I'm not going to make it. Five of us, although at various points along the way we picked up other riders. We ended up riding for almost three hours, and with the out-and-back to the meeting point in Loenen, it was more for me (62 miles door-to-door). Nice guys, good pace, no coffee stops--what's not to like. I think I'll like this club, and they've already said they'd be happy to have me. We also did some roads that were new to me, which was hard to believe given how long I've been riding a bike through these parts (basically: Loenen, Loosdrecht, Hilversum, Soest, Soesterduinen, Soesterberg, Austerlitz, Huis ter Heide, Bosch en Duin, Den Dolder, Westbroek, Tienhoven, Breukelen). One had a little hill in it, and several of us rode up it pretty fast, which was fun. It's the club "my" cardiologist (of that wrecked Sunday ride a month ago) also belongs to, but he wasn't there because two weeks ago he broke his hip in a race (the Ronde van Hilversum he told me about at the hospital). It was wet that day, and the course had a shiny, cobbled section with a pedestrian crossing in it. There were several crashes that day, but his was particularly ugly. The hills of Limburg follow tomorrow on what promises to be another sunny and mild (though not warm) day.