Monthly Archives: May 2014

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The Allegheny Cycling Assn. Old School Road Racing

photo This beautiful Memorial Day Weekend took me back to the days of leather hairnets, wool jersies, leather cycling shoes with toe clips, and classic road bicycles at races on the Eastern Seaboard. Now you might not know it, but Pittsburgh has produced some very good competitive road cyclists. Guys like the Chew brothers, Dan and Tom, who along with Mac Martin, Matt Eaton, Bob Gottlieb and Jay Wolkoff blazed a trail for todays cycling stars in the burg. Back in the day, these guys used to compete at the Wednesday Night Races at the Highland Park Zoo parking lot. These highly competitive races were training criteriums for a lot of the local superstars as well as the ham and egger, weekend warriors like my friends George, Art, Frank and me. Many times the Sheriff( Gary Bywaters- USA Cycling Official extrordinaire) would line up the ” A” racers and the “B” racers together and off we would go contesting a tight criterium on one of the city’s classic racing venues. Even the Sheriff did ACA time trials back in those days.

Guys like my buddies from North Park were treated to seeing the “A” guys come blazing by us and give us tips along the way during the race. It was not uncommon to hear Matt Eaton, the National Road Champion at the time, come up beside me and tell me to move up or try to hang on his wheel to move up a few places so that I would be in a more competitive position to contest a sprint. He didn’t have to do that, but he believed in sharing his knowledge with us. Mac Martin, who was a US Team guy who did not get to go to the Moscow Olympics because of the Carter boycott, would go on road training rides with us and tell us tales of racing in the Tour de L’Avegnier in France or racing in Mexico with the Soviets. Mac used to tell us that the KGB could always be spotted in their black suits and wingtip shoes in the 100+ degree heat. He had great stories and made all of us feel like we were part of something special racing and riding with the ACA in Pittsburgh.

Every Memorial Day weekend for years, we would really be treated when we went east to contest road and criterium races in our 3-4 Division, and then get cleaned up to watch the 1-2 races with our guys contesting. We really got to see how good Mac, Matt, and the boys really were lining up against national competition of which they were stars in their own right. Matt raced for the prestigious G.S.Mengoni team from NYC, and Mac was a long time member of the New Jersey Bicycle Club of national fame. Many of our guys landed spots on big national teams and it was really something to see them race at the Tour of Somerville and win. Our guys from Pittsburgh! But we really got to see how good they were when they raced out of town and were part of the big national road racing picture. Art, Frank, George and I would eat it up when we would see these guys at the end of the race with the media all around them and congratulate them because we were on their inner circle of friends from home. But these guys were stars in their own right and when we returned from a weekend of racing and watching we had a newfound respect for how good our guys and gals really were. Sophie Eaton, Matt’s sister, won Somerville several times and that race, held on Memorial Day still to this day, was the biggest and most prestigious criterium race in the country.

Our little band of weekend racers got really juiced when we went to the east coast as we were fueled by the performance of our Pittsburgh Superstars. We would get into our 3-4 races with our game faces on just like the good guys and in our Walter Mitty way, imagined ourselves contesting the Tour of Somerville when really we were contesting the local 3-4 race of the Tour of Montclair. The east coast 3-4 racers were very competitive and with all of the races and events of the Memorial Day weekend around us, we all raced with a little more pizazz because of the atmosphere during those weekends. There was nothing like the road trip starting with watching the Friday night track races at Trexlertown, racing in our own category races and then witnessing classic road races like the Tour of Nutley,Allentown, and Somerville. On many occasions, my friend Eric from Vermont came down to race for the Stowe Shimano Cycling Club. Eric was a Cat 2 and lined up against Mengoni and 7-11, the two most noted teams of the time. Pretty good for a hard working Vermonter who raced on weekends and was not a professonal. One year he lined up with Eric Heiden who raced for 7-11 at the time and when the race was over, we discovered that we were staying right next to them in our hotel. The nice thing about road racers is that they like to share their passion with the weekend warriors who are their fans. Heiden invited us over to their room to watch some TV show and share some pizza with us. The multiple gold medalist speed skater from the Lake Placid Olympics was sharing some post race comraderie with the ham and eggers from Pittsburgh. We were amazed. What a weekend to spend with world class athletes in a most unusual venue of cycling history- Somerville, New Jersey.

Those rides home in our caravan of vagabonds seemed to go so quickly because of all of the stories that were retold over and over on the way home. ” Hey- how about Heiden’s thighs? Yikes.” Hey Art and Frank, how did you guys move up like that with all of that traffic?” ” Hey George- what did you think about those guys from New Jersey?” ” How about Rebecca Twigg at the track races? What a hottie and wow can she ride fast!” The rest of the summer at the Wednesday night races were always filled with conversations of the Memorial Day weekend and when we ventured out to some other 3-4 out of town races, we felt that we somehow had some sort of an advantage because of our club and the national class racers who took the time to work with us and enjoy our company.

Those days are long gone now and on those quiet road rides that I do on my way from my house to Sewickley and back, I think about the ACA and the good old days. Sometimes I get fueled up and work really hard on the way home imagining those days at the Zoo, New Jersey and the old road races in Sharon,Pa with the finish over the railroad tracks. Lots of crash and burn memories there. But all good. I come into my garage with a smile on my face as I get back to reality and change to cut the grass. Leather hairnets, wool jersies, Italian road shoes with cleats and toe clips on the pedals. Those were the days my friend- we thought they’d never end. Thanks for reading.

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The Famous Bope Ham

IMG_1633 Sometimes people like me can be self serving. I wonder when I am going to get my next ride in, can I schedule a trail run, how many ski days do I have so far? It seems like life sometimes is a series of athletic events blended in with work, family, and obligations. Enter the Famous Bope Ham.

You are probably wondering,” What on earth is the Famous Bope Ham?” Well simply put, it is absolutely the most tasty baked ham you will ever enjoy if you are fortunate enough to have a slice someday. It is the creation of my mother-in-law and the recipe has been passed down to my wife Janet who prepares it flawlessly. The picture above is Janet and our good friend Mike Dunlay with the ham. Janet brought it over to feed Mike and his family during the time when they were celebrating the life of their father who had passed away. The ham is comforting. When people see it for the first time at a funeral or if someone is ill, a smile lights up their face when they cut into the baked outer crust and dip a piece into the sweet sticky juice at the bottom of the pan. Suddenly, all the sadness, discomfort of an illness, or other maladies disappear at least for the moment as one savors a bite of this tasty comforting food. The ham appears courtesy of my loving and thoughtful wife who bakes the semi-boneless delectible meat all day or all night in the oven at low heat. The ham is scored and cloves are placed at the intersections of the scores,and finally according to the recipe, brown sugar and orange marmalade are placed on top of the cooked ham to melt and blend with the ham juice to form a most wonderful sweet, gravy. When the ham appears at an event, things come to a screeching halt as the host graciously acknowledges the gesture of my wife Janet and like a magnet, the guests in the home march like Zombies towards the treat. It is mesmerizng to be sure and when the first people slice the ham, dip the slices into the sweet gravy and eat, their eyes close with unbelief. They are hooked under the power of the Famous Bope Ham.

Holidays at my mother and father in law’s house always include the ham and when I am particularly famished after a great day on skis, a great run or ride, I am always delighted when my plate is filled with slices of this most delicious and filling meal. But here I go again with the self serving. It is not about me and my hunger, it is all about the ham. The Famous Bope Ham is more than a tasty treat delivered to a grateful home. It represents love, caring, understanding, giving spirit, all wrapped up in a sticky, sweet, tender goodness that binds families and friends together.

Perhaps no illustration could be better than when we take the ham to serve the families at the Ronald McDonald House in Pittsburgh. We bake the ham all day and get all the side dishes, drinks and desserts together and make our way to the House and get the meal to the penthouse where the families reside. If you ever feel like you want to serve people, look no further than the families who reside at RMHC. Oftentimes, they are there for weeks, months, and longer waiting for a liver transplant for their child. Perhaps their child has a debilitating illness that the good doctors at UPMC-Children’s Hospital treat over time. Oftentimes, these scenarios are life threatening and the families are not sure of the outcome. They only know that their children are in the best of care at Children’s Hospital and have a wonderful place to stay courtesy of the volunteers and staff at the Ronald McDonald Houses. There is no greater feeling than seeing a young person who is battling illness, walk into the dining room and partake of the ham. When they eat that first bite, the smile on their faces and their bright eyes looking at us brings out the bladder behind my eyeballs for sure. It is a most hearwarming moment and if only for a short while, we feel like we have made their life a little easier and their families are most grateful for the appearance of …….the Famous Bope Ham. It is more than a meal. It represents all that is good with not being self serving if only for a short while. Janet and I love those families and pray for them every day. And the ham……….once again,appears out of the oven to serve and delight the most grateful recipients. My mother always said that happiness is like a perfume that you can’t sprinkle on others without getting a little on yourself. When Janet serves the ham, and people enjoy, that perfume of happiness definitely is in the air. Thanks for reading and please support RMHC Charities.

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The Epic Mountain Bike Ride

photo9 Epic is definitely an overused term when it comes to most things. The media uses the term loosely to describe events that are off the scale for most mere mortals. Sure, there are guys and gals who ride their mountain bikes in Morrocco or in the Himalaya and are sponsored by outdoor gear companies to trek with their bikes to the far corners of the world for a week,or weeks and relate the stories about the difficulty of the trail, the lack of sufficient water and food, potential dangers with native groups who might not particularly like the intrusion of people riding bicycles in their land and mingling with their friends and relatives. There are the stories of battling the elements in order to reach their goal of riding the impossible. These are probably an apt description of what most folks term as an epic adventure.
But the term epic can also be relative. What if an excursion takes a mere mortal, weekend warrior out of his or her element and places them in a siuation where the trails, weather, time and place make the ride epic in the scope of the person’s personal experience. We all can have epic experiences if we take the term relatively instead of comparing ourselves to world class athletes. The 59 year old kid has had a couple of those epic adventures on a mountain bike and part of the fabric of an epic ride is who you share the experience with on the trail.

Two of my more memorable epic rides have been with my good friend Dixon. We have known each other since the minor league in baseball and have skied together for years. We both got involved with mountain bike riding a while back and had the idea to navigate with the Pennsylvania Department of Conversation and Natural Resources map from Dixons cabin in Westmoreland County to Ohiopyle State Park and back. It seemed like an adventure at the time seeing that we usually only ride on top of the Laurel Ridge in the State Parks and the Seven Springs Ski Resort trails. Dixon is an interesting character. When you come to his house, you are greeted by a loud hello and he is usually outfitted in construction boots, shorts and a red bandanna. The Grateful Dead is blasting on the stereo and Dixon is busy loading his oversized fanny pack with blue bubble gum and Captain Crunch- his main source of energy on the trail. Dixon protects his pack with a flowered shower cap and as we leave his cabin, he festidiously checks the locks, his pack, his bike, and all of his equipment. After a pre ride shower he routinely blow dries his whole body in order to prevent any chafing on the trail. For the work load that a tax attorney like Dixon takes on, he is in great shape and likes to ride to blow off steam. We usually left the cabin early in the morning and began our ……….epic adventure in the Laurel Mountains.

Dixon and I are, and were candidates for a GPS while riding. We constantly got lost on our way out of Normalville ( how about that Pennsylvania town name?), and referred to the map to find the trails that would lead to Turkey Foot Road. Staying close to the stream bed, we rode and as I looked beside me, I saw the gleaming smile of Dixon with his blue teeth munching merrily on his bubble gum. Blazing through some seldom ridden trails we experienced the trials of briar bush orienteering, large, deep mud puddles that were always a challenge because you never quite knew how deep they were. An over the bars and out of the pedals crash into the mosquito infested water was never out of the question. Dixon was always searching for potential fishing holes along the ride and as we always made our way towards Ohiopyle, we reloaded our supplies in the local grocery store in town. Ohiopyle is a whitewater rafters paradise and the outdoor vibe of the place is welcoming to muddy, disoriented mountain bikers. We usually spent a little too much time watching the rafters and when we decided to load up and head back, we made use of the rails to trails until we reached the first of the backwoods seldom ridden trails near Maple Summit. As late afternoon approached on these rides, we sometimes had to refer to the location of the sun to determine which way was west or east. The woods all look the same when you are lost and part of the excitement of an epic adventure is when you are totally lost and need to find a way back before dark.

In the early days of these rides, we had no GPS, cell phones, or other modern ammenities that would make the adventure fool proof. We just referred to the ratty map and made our way through farms, fire roads and old deer trails until we reached a familiar gravel road that led us to Indian Head at the bottom of the mountain near Dixon’s cabin. I can remember one spring ride when we were totally out of food and water, the temperature was dropping fast, and we entered the Red and White store in Indian Head and split a pack of fig newtons. Usually I laid on my back on the porch and jammed the newtons in my mouth muttering how in the world I was going to pedal up that hill back to the cabin. Dixon always had a bright approach to things and we usually talked the lady who owned the market into riding us up the hill in her red pick up truck. Other times we would make our way as far as the Mountain Club on County Line Road and use the garden hose to get a drink and blast the inches of caked and frozen mud from our bikes. The hollow looks from some of the guys that rode with us indicated that they were all on their last legs along with the 59 year old kid, but Dixon and his blue bubble gum sustained his cheery disposition even at the end of an 11 hour adventure.

The Laurel Highlands are not challenging when compared to the epic rides that you see in the magazines, but then again, relatively speaking to the mere mortal, the epic adventure to Ohiopyle and back was adventurous in our minds. Wildlife, rain and snow, poorly marked trails, mud, aggressive farmers and their dogs, and redneck traffic always make for great stories on the trail. When you have a friend like Dixon who is a real character, it makes these rides memorable. So go do something epic. Chances are you will have fun and have some good stories to tell about your personal adventure. It may not make a magazine, but it will make your memory banks for sure. Thanks for reading.

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“I did it!”

photo This simple phrase is always heard in jubilation at any finish line of a race where hard work paid off. Take the guy in the picture above. Sridhar Mandyam is my next door neighbor who last year signed up for a program at our local YMCA called” from couch to 5K.” Sridhar is an IT consultant and does a lot of work with overseas customers and has many late nights. He was not much for physical activity due to his hard work and hours but he claims that seeing me all the time in the driveway with my bikes and skis inspired him to get off the couch and do someting physical before it was too late. I was flattered of course but more importantly, Sridhar changed his life. He ran all of last year and this winter, and prepared for his first race- The Pittsburgh Half Marathon.

Sridhar’s physical appearance has changed. He looks like a runner and has that healthy glow of someone who is enjoying his exercise and endorphin boost. When he showed up at my front door after the half and proudly displayed his finisher’s medal which you see above, I could not have been more proud of my next door neighbor. I took his picture as he glowed in the satisfaction of completing the race that he had prepared so hard to finish. That smile on his face is priceless and Sridhar is hooked on running. He can’t wait for his next race. He will definitely do the half again next year and who knows what other races will come his way. But his lifestyle is changed. No matter how busy he is, he has to get his run in. The sign of a man who is inspired to be physically fit and values his health.

A similar story occurred a few years ago when a friend of mine, who was living in Maine at the time, decided to do the full marathon in Pittsburgh. He asked me if I wanted to do it with him and I said yes and I began the tedious preparation of training for the event. He trained as well up in Maine on cold, lonely back roads in the dead of a New England winter. As the day approached, I became acutely aware that the weather was not going to be favorable for a marathon in Pittsburgh. The high the day of the race would be in the 80’s and at race start, it was already in the 60’s. I told my friend that he should eat something before we left- he didn’t. I told him to wear a hat and sunglasses- he didn’t. I told him to drink along the route as much as possible- he didn’t. At the 20 mile mark after all of his preparation, he totally shut down and was ready to take a cab to the finish. I would hear none of that because of his preparation and his training for the race as I implored him to walk. We walked for 4+ miles and when we came in range of the finsh line I told him that he must run or jog across the finish line- he was not to walk across the finish line of the Pittsburgh Marathon. We argued about it a little bit but I convinced him to run which he did right into the arms of the volunteers who took him to the medical tent to get an IV. As his wife, my wife, and I waited for him to exit the medical tent, he came out with his finisher’s medal beaming from ear to ear. ” I did it” he said and we all were so proud of his monumental effort. To this day he has his picture, medal, and race number proudly displayed in a frame in his living room. I hope Sridhar does the same with his picture and medal. “I did it” they said!

Most of the people who enter running races or any race for that matter are doing it to finish and achieve a sense of satisfaction for training and achieving their goal. They are not in it for time, place, or anything competitive except with themselves. Only a small percentage are experienced and running for time and place. Most weekend warriors are working toward the goal of just finishing what they have entered. When you see these folks cross the finish line of their first race, they are beaming and thrilled beyond belief. That is the magic potion of entering a race. A lot of people criticize those who train for an event most likely because they have never experienced the joy of completing a competition. There are a lot of couch potatoes out there who would rather make remarks than get off the couch to try it themselves. But for those who do, the nervousness of the start line, the exuberance of the crowd of fellow competitors when the gun goes off, and the ecstatic emotion that comes with crossing a finish line and getting that medal is one that you will never forget. I feel sorry for those who never test themselves and experience the euphoria of race day. My friend who ran the marathon says it was one of the high points of his life. Sridhar is still on cloud 9 with his excitement for his newfound passion. If you haven’t had the experience, check with your doctor then try it. As the famed ski film producer Warren Miller always says,” you better do it this year, because you will be a year older when you do.” Then you can say with pride……” I did it!” Thanks for reading.

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Riding on the rothROCKS!!

Purple Lizard Mapstussey2-0Rothrock-(4)-0rothrock_crop_1024x1024photo17 My wife Janet is a Penn Stater. She and her family bleed Blue and White and for the last 26 years of our marriage we have made the pilgrimage to Happy Valley for homecoming, and other PSU related events. The bonus for me, and also my buddy who you see here on the left in the 3 guy picture (Dr. Mike Smith of Philadelphia), is that we get to ride at Rothrock State Forest. It’s always nice to have an Osteopath along when bouncing along the rocky trails of central Pennsylvania. Mike, Bobby Reading and I always get together at homecoming to ride mountain bikes and then enjoy the sumptuous feast at the tailgate during and after the game. Mike and I have had some real adventures over the years up at the Rothrock and they don’t call it Roth-rock for nothing. See the pictures above as a testament to the challenges of the trails. Momentum is always your friend on rock strewn trails but if you stray on the wrong ones, like the Mid-State Trail, you not only get some unrideable climbs but the tombstone like rocks present a challenge even when we have to walk in some sections. Mike and I have slid across icy bridges, ridden the rocks in the ice and the snow, searing heat, biblical rains, and we always consider it an epic adventure. It has been great to have him and Bobby as accomplices in mountain bike fun over all of these years. Even when I ride solo, there is something special about looking out over Bear Meadows, admiring the foliage, and looking skyward to see the Blue and White of PSU painted all over the horizon.

If you are inclined to try this area, I would recommend that you at least purchase the Purple Lizard map available at all the bike shops in State College. I have an old ratty one that I have used for years with the exception of the one year that I forgot it along with my cell phone. The long and the short of that adventure was that I ended up 25 miles from the ski area at Tussey Mountain( our starting point), alone, out of water in my pack, out of food and it was getting dark. The Central Pa. mountains are very remote and I was due back at State College an hour before. Fortunately, I was able to find one couple who was camping and they graciously agreed to drive me back to Tussey. I sat with my bike in the back of their pickup and had it not been for their benevolence, I would surely have spent the night in the wilds of the Rothrock State Forest. My wife was none too happy as I entered the Ritchey house( her roomate from college), several hours late, in the dark, and late for our dinner engagement. I am surely a candidate for a new Garmin GPS which should at least be insurance in the event that I ever get lost again. But, to continue, there are a number of great shops in State College- The Bicycle Shop http://www.thebicycleshopinc.com and Freeze Thaw Bikes- http://www.freezethaw.com which can assist with rentals, parts, and anything else that you would need to tackle these great trails. I would also recommend checking http://www.mtbproject.com and http://www.happyvalleybiking.com for further information. The Ride Guide TV show out of Canada on the Ski Channel also did a great expose on the area. You can catch the highlights on You Tube.

One thing about mountain bike riding in Pennsylvania and West Virginia is that you have to get used to riding trails that are rocky and technical. When you get into the Laurel Mountains and the Central Pa. ridges, there is no getting around riding technical trails. You can take a breather on the many fire roads,but for the most part, you will pay your dues on these paths of destruction. Some days, I feel energized and have the mojo to ride most of the rocky sections, but on other days, I have crashed and burned and have paid the price for challenging the shale and granite of the Keystone State. The Tussey Mountain Trail and the John Wert Path have several sections of real rocky terrain. If you add the elements of rain, snow, or ice, the ante is upped exponentially and momentum is definitely required to survive. However, the beauty of the ridges coupled with sunny days or changing leaves, add to the general feeling of satisfaction in immersing yourself into the mountainous terrain of Pennsylvania. My favorite moment comes at the end of most rides when we ride down the Longberger Path to the parking lot. This downhill has a few rocky sections but the descent is the reward for all the climbing of the day. Most of the rides in this area end up near the Tussey ski area and the long downhills, culminating with a tasty beverage at the end of the ride, makes all the rocky suffering worthwhile and gives you the great memories and feelings to make sure that you come back soon.

Mike,Bobby, and I are not Penn Staters, but riding in the Rothrock has forged many memories that bring a satisfying feeling that somehow we belong here. I am a Nittany Lion at heart even though I never hit a book here. I am sure that I will be eating Janet and Val’s chili and Judy’s turkey, slaw and challah for many years to come on those homecoming weekends. It tastes really good after a long ride in the Rothrock. But on those solo rides, when they occur, I will be more careful to be prepared. No more pickup truck rides for me. Thanks for reading and come ride the rocks!!!