October 6, 2013 by patmccloskey

The Lodge at Glendorn

Sometimes as the 58 year old kid, you have to treat yourself to life’s wonderful pleasures that are not muddy, adventurous, snowcovered, or viewed from underneath a smelly sleeping bag in a tent. This was the case this weekend when Janet and I went to the Lodge at Glendorn in Bradford, Pa. This woodland retreat was created in 1927 by C.G. Dorn as a wonderful family camp to enjoy for years as a respite from the rigors of the oil business. The family built cabins for each of their children and enjoyed hunting and fishing for years until 1995 when they opened it up to the public. Fast forward to the fall of 2009, the Dorn family decided to put the property up for auction and two of their regular guests, Cliff and Tracy Forrest, had the vision to buy Glendorn and not let it be sold into parcels of land. The Forrests have put their heart and soul into the place as evidenced by their induction into the exclusive membership of Relais and Chateaux. http://www.relaischateaux.com Only the finest hotels and resorts are in this directory and you can appreciate this as you wander the grounds and see the thoughtful way the place is landscaped and the cabins are appointed.

As Janet and I approached the black iron gates in our Jeep,which recently hauled mulch and firewood, I tucked my shirt in and announced our presence to the staff who were waiting for us. We were shown to the Dale Cabin built for one of the Dorn sons. This was our second trip to Glendorn and it was our 25th wedding anniversary. The accomodations did not disappoint as each cabin has it’s own flavor and decor consistent with the history of the retreat. As we wandered to the Big House for our lunch, we were greeted by a friendly staff and escorted to a table in the dining room with a great view of the brilliant fall foliage. The fresh flowers on the table adorned with white linen tablecloths and napkins, were welcoming along with the beautuful silverware and utensils. The cuisine is prepared by Executive Chef Joe Schafer and his unique style of menu is second to none. To show you how good this guy is, my friend Cliff gave us a tour of the kitchen and presented a country ham to Joe to prepare for the breakfast menu for the next day. Now if you know anything about country ham, you know that it is like a catcher’s mitt that has been salted to death and is stored in a dry place. It is big in the south and when the boss says to prepare it for the next day, you better know what you are doing for the guests. Joe was spectacular and even prepared it with the traditional red eye gravy and grits. Pretty good for a guy that can prepare world class meals in the Pennsylvania wilds. Cliff even dropped the damn thing in the parking lot but I will tell you, it was good. Dinner was unbelievable and the fresh bread and butter with black sea salt was so good, I remarked to my wife that I would like to swab the butter dish with the warm sourdough bread. But I envisioned the whole dining room staring at me in horror with fixed eyeballs if I had done something like that. Hey, at least I wouldn’t lick the butter dish? But again, Jan’s filet, my salmon and the soups and desserts were to die for as we made our way to the two story fireplace which was lit for us to enjoy. The opening of the fireplace was circled with a stone archway that was protruding from the wall and Cliff told us that when a Dorn became engaged, they had to walk that stone protrusion above the opening of the massive fireplace. Up and over the arch and down the other side. Lots of accidents Cliff said, but part of the great fun with the Dorns and the traditions that they have instilled in the place.

Janet and I hiked and explored the trails which was pretty adventurous seeing that Janet had broken her elbow hiking six weeks ago. But she was game and the beauty of the place was spectacular. We even did a little skeet shooting this weekend under the watchful eye of Cliff and his Orvis endorsed staff. I am not a good shot. I can’t hit the broad side of a barn with a bag of rice, but I had fun trying. You can fly fish here with excellent instruction. Mountain bikes are available for exploration and in the winter, there is cross country skiing, showshoeing, and just up the road is Ellicottville, NY which has loads of alpine skiing opportunities. But if you just want to walk and explore the grounds, that is really relaxing and you can really soak in the atmosphere of this storied 1500 acres. You almost feel as if you are back in time especially if you take the time to read the history of the Dorns at their special retreat. I laughed at the sense of humor of C.G.Dorn in a series of published letters to his best friend bound in an old book on the desk in our cabin. Cliff and Tracy have respected that heritage and kept the history of the place in tact with references to the Dorns and their way of providing rest and comfort for their guests.

Perhaps the most impressive thing abount Glendorn is the attention to detail. The training of the staff is superb as they concentrate on the little things. They serve you coffee with the logo on the mugs facing you and the handle on your appropriate side. The cabins are serviced twice a day. You can go out to fish, hike, etc., and when you return, your bed is made or turned down and everything is tidy as if you had just checked in. Fruit, wine and cheese, snacks, are all available in the rooms in the lodge and the cabins. Really, there is nothing that you can desire because the attention of the staff is so keen. Cliff does not allow tipping. He and Tracy feel that the service should be excellent without the incentive of monetary compensation by the guests. For the 58 year old kid and his bride of 25 years, this was a wonderful getaway. We were sad when we had to drive the Jeep through the black iron gates on the way out, but I said,” Dear, wasn’t that wonderful? I will definitely bring you back here in another 25 years.” Just kidding dear……………. we can’t wait to get back. Check it out and definitely go there. http://www.glendorn.com

As we met our friends for pizza when we returned, we laughed and said,” Well, back to reality.” But, you know, sometimes you just have to appreciate the finer things and “go for it.” That is what good memories are made of and celebrating a wonderful life with my wife couldn’t have been at a better venue. Thanks for reading and go to Glendorn.

October 3, 2013 by patmccloskey

Why I like Pittsburgh

From the best of http://www.chroniclesofmccloskey.com

Imagine if you will coming into the airport in Pittsburgh,Pa. and not knowing much about our fair city. The first two guys you see are shown above. One is George and one is Franco. Now George made a big splash here in 1753 as a surveyor and almost literally drowned in a big splash in the Allegheny River. But he went on to great notoriety as a British officer and helped to secure the cornerstone of our city’s early existence -Fort Pitt. He later made many trips to our region and Pittsburgh was near and dear to his heart. The other guy, Franco made a great catch in a football game against the hated Oakland Raiders that went down in gridiron history. If you ask most older Pittsburgers today, they will all tell you, in a friendly way, that they were at the game and saw the “Immaculate Reception.” Now if that were true, I would estimate that there were 600,000 people at that game. Wow- that must have been crowded. I don’t remember it being THAT crowded because I was there. ( Yea – sure you were Pat). But I was.

As you make your way through the tunnels, you are treated to a spectacular collage of buildings and 3 rivers that form the “Point”. You can see the most beautiful baseball field in the country( PNC Park), as well as Heinz Field that is the home of the Pitt Panthers and the Pittsburgh Steelers. But as you make your way to the Strip District and perhaps the South Side, you will begin to notice what makes Pittsburgh so special- the people. Pittsburghers are a friendly lot and will be glad to help you find your way even take you there if they have the time. In many larger cities, folks are in survivor mode and will hip check you to get a cab, or they will do whatever they can to get over on you just because there are so many people. It is survival in the bigger cities, but Pittsburgh is just small enough that the pressure of urban civilization has been lost a little bit on our community.

To go along with the friendliness of the city are the neighborhoods. Everyone thinks that Pittsburgh is all about Primanti sandwiches, but as good as they are (late at night), there are so many more eateries and establishments in Pittsburgh’s many neighborhoods that can be enjoyed.

Pittsburgh is an enthusiastic town. When the steel industry went in the tank in the 80s, Pittsburgh was resilient and vowed not to be a “rust belt” city. The city fathers welcomed construction of new residence communities to encourage surburbanites to think about living and working along the rivers and supporting the new life that was sprouting up out of the coal and dust of the industrial evacuation. Pittsburgh quickly became a white collar community with the UPMC Medical Facility expansion and the rise of the financial markets in town. Along with this entrepreneurial excitement and resiliency, was the spirit of our community in it’s tireless support of it’s sports teams. The Steelers are having a rough start, but that does not stop the Black and Gold faithful from attending in sell out conditions and having their beloved tailgates at every home game. The Penguins opened their season this week and Stanley Cup fever is in the air and Pittsburgh fans hang on every word that comes out of Sidney Crosby’s mouth.

We even had a 40 foot rubber duckie moored in the water!! Pittsburgh was the innaugural bathtub for the Dutch artist Florentijn Hofman’s duck and Pittsburghers lined the rivers and the point by the thousands welcoming this piece of inflated art that was here for a month. Shaundra Miles of the Pittsburgh Cultural Trust says it best when she remarked that the duck was a “reminder with all that is going on in the world, that there is joy, and joy in simple things.” That is what defines a person living in the ‘burg. We have joy in our communities, our city, our sports teams, and in our lives in general. There is a spirit in Pittsburgh that is most evident in the happiness that a kielbassa sandwich brings at a football game, the micro-brews that are enjoyed at the many local establishments, the thrill of a home run in the post season, the visual bonus of fireworks over our three rivers, the colorful buildings, and the fellowship in the streets during a game or in the work place in anticipation of a win on the ice, field, or gridiron. That spirit is alive in me because of the many nights I sat up and listened to Bob Prince (The Gunner) broadcast a Pirate game and announcing after a victory that ” we had then alllllllll the way!!!” That red plaid sportcoat is etched forever in my memory.

Pittsburgh also has a vibrant outdoor community. Visit http://www.ventureoutdoors.org to see the many hikes, beer tasting hikes, bike rides, snowshoe events, and other outdoor instructional outings that this organization so aptly make available to visitors and locals alike. Janet and I like to use the many bike paths that wind their way through the city. You can park up river and ride to the games, leave your bike in the racks at Kayak Pittsburgh on the Allegheny River, and then return without having to worry about parking. Ride to the Red Fin on Herr’s Island and take in a good lunch while looking at folks enjoying the river on their boats and jet skis. Get involved with the rowing clubs on the island and get instruction on how to take part in a great activity on the river. You don’t have to go to an Ivy League school to learn to row. You can do it on the Allegheny River with a local club.

Well, I may have exhausted that visitor who first stepped off the plane and met George and Franco in the airport. But there sure is enough for him or her to do and maybe, just maybe, they will begin to have that great Pittsburgh spirit as they enjoy dahntahhn with a chipped ham sandwich and some Blend an at. Be glad that you have experienced the “Most Liveable City in America” Thanks for reading.

September 29, 2013 by patmccloskey

The Starlit Canopy

One of my favorite things to do is to sit outside by my fireplace and look up at the stars on a clear night. Viola Christy,a co-worker of mine, encouraged me to get a telescope and I did that and have enjoyed locating the planets with the help of Google Sky. I look through the scope, locate things, and then sit down again by the fireplace and contemplate how tiny we really are in comparison to what lies out there in the night sky and what is beyond somewhere where we can’t see at all. I have always been fascinated with the night sky and it all started a long time ago………….in a galaxy far, far away………..just kidding.

Actually the start of this fascination began when my dad bought me an Army surplus tent and diligently constructed a flat location in the back yard. Now my dad, being the mechanical engineer, had to have the lot for the tent perfectly level and to add to my comfort, he put Army cots in the tent for my friends and I to use during our overnight “camping” in the backyard during the summers of my youth. Many times, I would get up in the middle of the night to use the facilities because my mom would leave the back door open. Not primitive camping by any stretch and I always knew that I could come back inside the house if anything spooked me. But most often, I would come back and before I crawled back on the cot, I would sit outside and look up at the stars and wonder what was out there.

Smells are unique at night and the air has a special aroma especially around this time of year when the leaves are changing and the temperature stops to drop. Things are awfully quiet except for the crickets at 3 in the morning, but the brilliance of the heavens continues to shine well into daybreak. I found myself looking up at all hours of the night and I still do today as in the example of the recent meteor shower only visible after midnight and before 6 AM. There I was, just like when I was a young lad, looking up at shooting stars at 4 AM. My family thought I was nuts. I told Jack that I located Saturn in the telescope and asked if he wanted to come out and see it the next night. He said,” thanks Dad, but I can see it way better on the internet.” Nice.

When I was in college and shortly afterwards, I had the itch to backpack and regularly used the Laurel Ridge Hiking Trail for my weekend excursions. I reserved and slept in the lean-tos along the trail, and first came up with my handy dandy way to light a fire. The state DNR always provided firewood. However, many times it was green and it was difficult to start a fire. I always liked to camp and backpack in the fall when the air was cooler and there were no bugs to fight. But fires were always a challenge until I bought myself a Bernz-o-Matic torch and some fire starter bricks. With these tools, you can start a fire out of concrete blocks if you had to, and I always made sure I had my torch and blocks with me in my pack. I still use it today outside at my fireplace. Once I got the fire started, and my pad and sleeping bag set up, I once again, spent the night looking up and to my surprise, saw many more stars in the Laurel Highlands than at my house on Siebert Road due to almost no light pollution from streetlights, neighborhood lighting and malls. I had a great time by myself out there in the woods and as strange as it may seem,I enjoy my own company. The stars once again accompanied me and it was comforting to fall asleep under a starlit canopy deep in the Allegheny Mountains.

My ski/hiking trips to Tuckerman Ravine up in New Hampshire allowed me to camp out for a week and climb and ski during the day. See my early blog posts on this subject. Over the years I learned a lot of good things from my mistakes. For instance, don’t make a week’s worth of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches from a loaf of bread and stack them all back in the bread bag. After a week, you have a peanut butter dough ball because you have slept on it, picked it apart during lunch, and shoved it around in your pack all week. Lesson learned in food preparation. Freeze dried foods work much better. I was always amused at some of my friends who had little experience in camping or skiing in such a daunting place. One friend who was a very good local ski racer, was so intimidated at the steepness of the skiing that he didn’t dare remove his skis during a walk sidewards from one ravine to the next. He walked over rocks on his way and practicaly destroyed his skis. He then came back and as I lit up my campstove that evening and was getting some water to boil, I found him cooking his hot dog over the flame. Obviously he had little to no camping experience and it was a humbling experience for him to be with a bunch of good skiers who also knew how to cook things in boiling water. Some people are fish out of water in the woods, but thanks to my dad and my college backpacking trips, I educated myself on outdoor living. And, again, my friends in the celestial canopy kept me company at the wee, small hours of the morning.

When my son Jack was young, I bought a two man tent and we began to sleep out in the yard in the summer. Sometimes he liked it and sometimes he didn’t, and wanted to go back to his bed. But I always picked the starlit nights and as I told him at a very young age about the North Star and the constellations, I was amazed at what he retained. I tucked him back in his bed on some of those nights and since I had the tent already set up, I went back out and looked up through the top of the netting on the tent and saw my friends in the heavens as always twinkling down on me as I drifted off to sleep. The teenage years have limited our camping experiences but I have had the opportunity to use that tent on several overnight bicycle outings where I have opted against a hotel or college dorm accomodations and reseved a space for our tent on the grounds. As the bicycle crowd started to calm down and the campers began to prepare to go to sleep, there I was in my camp chair, reading by the light of my lantern, and enjoying the night air once again from the comfort of my dome tent. What is it that attracts me to looking at stars in the night? I have tried to outline it here but there are so many relaxing reasons that I can’t list them all. I have had the experience of seeing the Northern Lights at night up in Maine, seeing the stars rise over the Maroon Bells in Colorado, and watched hundreds of shooting stars lying on my back in a field in Yosemite. My family was too tired to take that adventure in on our trip out there but I went and it was the best celestial show that I have ever seen. Even the ranger laughed and commented that he is always upstaged by the shooting stars during his presentation on Stargazing in Yosemite. The “ooohs” and “ahhhs” drown out his monologue regularly.

As I get older, I appreciate more and more the things that my dad did for me as a young lad. He was not a camper. He was not a skier. But he and my mom made sure I was exposed to many things and I will never forget the old Army surplus tent at the corner of our lot, standing at attention, through rain and clear nights, waiting for a little boy to come out, look at the stars, and fall asleep on the cot with the tent flaps tucking him in at night…..under a starlit canopy.

September 26, 2013 by patmccloskey

Cycling in the Buckeye

Throughout this spring and summer, I have posted about all the cool places to ride a bicycle out west,in West Virginia,in New York State, and accross the pond. These travelogues have been supported with the stories and adventures of the 58 year old kid. But I would be remiss if I did not include the good times that can be had in our neighbor directly to the west- The Great State of Ohio.

Lets start with the MetroPark System of cycling paths in the Cleveland area. As I told you in “Don’t be a Slam Clicker”, I usually take my road or mountain bike with me on work trips. I also took it with me during our visits to Cleveland during AAU Basketball season. We spent a lot of time in the Independence,Ohio area and the MetroPark Towpath is an excellent place to get some riding in on a most unique path. A Towpath is a cycling and running path that was originally a dirt road that horses used to tow boats along the canal system to get product from Lake Erie to the upstart towns and cities to the south. The canals were a cheap way to transport goods and after these paths became obsolete, they were revitalized as part of the Emerald Chain of “rails to trails” in the Cleveland area. Check out the picture above to see and envision how barges were first towed back in the 19th century. I have ridden a mountain bike and a road bike on the towpath system and really the more comfortable way is with a mountain bike. There are miles and miles of these trails in the area and along the way you can see riders, runners, walkers and lots of folks fishing in the canals and the Cuyahoga River.

Out in the western part of the state, close to Springfield, Ohio, is the Little Miami Trail System. This is a paved roadway where cars are not permitted and it heads north to south all the way past Cincinnati close to the Kentucky line. I always stayed at the Courtyard Marriott in Springfield and the entry to the trail was accross the street. You can easily cover lots of miles because there is no traffic and you wind your way past horse farms and estates that define the beauty of the mid-west. Beautifully manicured fields and colorful barns are showcased for the riders gliding along the Little Miami. You can easily pull off into little towns along the way to experience coffee shops and shopping as well as restock your fuel for the rides. The best restaurant in Springfield, by the way, is in the Courtyard. Excellent cuisine highlighting local produce, and locally grown beef and chicken.

If you are looking for a 100 mile Century Tour, the Tour of the Scioto River Valley (TOSRV) is an excellent choice. This ride is also in the western part of the state and ends up also near the Kentucky border. There are several overnight options including the local high school gym at the end of the century. Also, camping and hotels are close by to refuel for the return trip the next day if you desire. I was amazed at the signs that warned the century riders about the ominous hill ahead. Now a hill in western Ohio is not what you would think and when we came to the infamous “hill” of the TOSRV ride, it was over before it began and by Western Pa standards it was not imposing at all. I asked,” was that the hill?” The resounding answer from fellow Buckeye riders was “yes- that was tough wasn’t it?” I kept my mouth shut.

Another Buckeye adventure is to take the ferry out of Port Clinton near Toledo out to Put N Bay,one of the Lake Erie Islands. You can take your road or mountain bike and once you arrive, avoid the touristy town area and head out to the airport on the island. It is a nice relaxing ride along farmland roads and then return to the Perry Memorial near the ferry port. I am a big fan of Oliver Hazard Perry and his much heralded victory over the British Navy in the Battle of Lake Erie during the War of 1812. Don’t miss the visitors center for the memorial and take in the film that is so well done by the Ohio Historical Society detailing the unlikely but successful victory of one of America’s most courageous Navy captains. After a quick bite at the outdoor cafe near the port at Put N Bay, head back via the ferry and relax and enjoy the view of Lake Erie and the other islands along the way. Turnpike to Port Clinton- piece of cake.

Lastly, you would never think that mountain biking existed in flat Ohio right? Well one of my favorite places to ride a mountain bike is in Loundonville,Ohio in the Mohican State Forest. This very well marked trail system basically climbs from the Mohican River up along the ridges above the gorge. The elevation is only about 1300 feet at it’s highest but the views of the gorge below and the deeply canopied forest trails are not to be missed. They have an annual 100 mile mountain bike endurance race here as well as a 100 mile trail run. It is very popular among the ultra enduro set but for most folks, the 24 mile loop is daunting enough. It is amazing that when you start at the trail head off of Route 3, you don’t have to go far to hear absolutely nothing in the woods except the falling leaves and the chipmunks and squirrels getting ready for winter at this time of year. You can stay at the famous Mohican Lodge and Conference Center where you can take in the views from the patio, of the scenic Pleasant Hill Lake created in the 30s by the Army Corps as a flood control project. In the evening, relax at the indoor fireplace and nestle into one of their padded rocking chairs and read Dirt Rag or a good book. The classical music played in the lodge adds to the charm. The lodge itself was built in 1974 and is constructed of stone and large picture windows for views of the forest and the lake. The restaurant uses local farm produce, dairy and meats, in its sustainable cuisine that mirrors the ambiance of a lodge that blends into the beauty of the Mohican State Forest. The best thing about the trails here is that there are no real brutal climbs. It is a fast and flowy trail system once you reach the top during the initial climb. The rest of the ride is along the ridges above the river and the occasional rock garden and rooty sections keep your interest in what is a dreamy ride through a hardwood and pine canopy.

All in all, I have had some really good times riding in the Buckeye. Recently I did some road cycling with my buddy Heff up near Lordstown,Ohio. The roads were so smooth that it felt like each pedal stroke yielded way more pavement than my roads in Pa. The farms and houses along the way were way scenic and I remarked to Heff how wonderful it must be to come home from work and hit any of these paved roadways for a comfortable and scenic workout. I will be back to do more of those rides. If you are in the local area, don’t miss riding out in Ohio. There are lots of options and I have only scratched the surface. Thanks for reading.

September 22, 2013 by patmccloskey

The Pittsburgh Off Road Cyclists

I usually schedule my blog posts about two weeks in advance but I had to jump the line here to tell you all about a perfect day of mountain biking with a really fun group of riders……of all ages. The cool thing about PORC is that it is a mountain bike club http://www.porcmtbclub.org which is open to riders of all ages and abilities. The club focuses on rides in the Western Pennsylvania region. There are nightly rides during the week in a lot of different venues in and around Pittsburgh, with weekend rides in the mountains east of us as well as more local venues.

Today was the annual PORC Pignic(not a spell check-haha) As the riders assembled, it was a gorgeous day here in the ‘burg and the venue was North Park. The air was cool with a temperature in the high 50s, the sun was shining and the leaves are starting to turn color here and fall gently on the 42 miles of trails that we have in the park. It was a perfect day and there were over 50 riders participating in many different types of rides ranging from fast to beginner. Like my other passion, skiing, the neat thing is that folks can participate at their level and then enjoy the comraderie after the ride. The nice thing about mountain bikers is that they really like to eat and also drink their beer-post ride. The grills were lit, the beer was tapped after the rides, and for most of the riders the post ride hunger and thirst was satisfied at the pignic. Elizabeth and Lee Klevens shot some amazing photos. They are a talented couple who provided a really great mosaic for the new OTB Cafe in North Park which will be opening soon. http://www.otbbicyclecafe.com

Most of the rides lasted for 3 hours so you can imagine the appetites and the thirsts that developed. PORC has attracted a most interesting and eclectic group of outdoor enthusiasts. John Hinderliter is a real outdoors guy as well as a world class illustrator. Don Cunningham,a television sports engineer, brought his homebrew and poured it over fresh hops which really enhanced the taste of an already excellent brew. Dr. Jack celebrated his 65th birthday. The guy doesn’t look 45 because he keeps himself in excellent shape riding almost every day. Bob Bannon- the fearless leader of the group is one of the strongest riders and he is older than me- the 58 year old kid. You wouldn’t know it riding behind Bob with his excellent technique over the rocks and roots that define riding in our area. Johnny McWilliams had the fast guys in tow as they set a blistering pace that burned off several of the ambitious riders who joined them. I picked up the stragglers and had a more reasonably paced group where you could look at the leaves and enjoy the conversations and the laughter instead of concentrating on the guys wheel in front of you and trying to hang on the climbs. That is the good thing about being a leader. The group has to follow you and you can dictate the pace. That Johnny Mac is tough and he is the only one in that group that had some gray hair starting to sprout. But as I first commented, there were young gals and guys and older guys and gals who rode together in various groups and all had a great time with the common denominator being the love of the trails and the joy of pedaling a bicycle off road. The gray hairs and the young set together enjoying one of life’s pleasures as a team in the woods. I saw a lot of groups where some of the participants looked to be the age of other riders parents or even grandparents. It was a testament to inclusion. It just goes to show you that if you continue to exercise and enjoy sports or activities, you can stay in good shape, and meet a lot of people both young and old. The old guys live vicariously through the exploits of the fast guys and the younger set marvels at the shape and conditioning of some of the older riders. We learn from each other. The younger new riders benefit from the experience of the older folks and us older folks are brought up to speed on the cultural changes of todays society by riding with the young guns. A truly wonderful dynamic and all meet at the melting pot of the post ride meal.

Mountain biking is fun and it is a strenuous activity that keeps you in good shape. There are a lot of folks my age who have thrown in the towel. They come home, put on the boob tube, eat and go to bed. But the PORC crew kind of espouses what Jimmy Buffet says when he sings,” I’d rather die while I am living than live when I’m dead.” If you are older, don’t give up the ship. Be the Oliver Hazard Perry of life and rage against age and complacency like Oliver did against a much stronger and powerful British Navy. Riding or skiing with younger folks keeps you in the game. Riding with your peers acknowledges the fact that mutually you are still in the game. Take a tip from the PORC crew and enjoy the trails, the leaves, and all that the great outdoors has to offer. Thanks for reading.

September 19, 2013 by patmccloskey

The Moon Cyclists

Riding my road bike the other day, I was feeling pretty good for the unusually hot temperature. The hills coming up out of Sewickley didn’t feel so bad and it seemed like now at the end of the riding season, I was in fairly good shape for the shape I am in. Until…..a guy who could not have weighed more than 130# soaking wet came flying by me in a rather official looking pro team kit and shaved legs gleaming in the sun. I knew he was serious as he gave me the obligatory wave with the right finger and as I tried to hang on to his wheel, I said,” where did the 30 years go all of a sudden.” My “in-shapeness” was relative now to my age group and certainly not in the age group of the guy who just smoked me on the hill. As I drifted off the back, I kind of went into a daydream mode which you can do on a road bike and just pedaled and thought about the old days. Look above to see the leather hairnet head protection that we wore and the wool jersies. We were official looking as we tried to mimic the Euro Peleton. When I look at that picture today I say to myself,” how would that leather hairnet protect anything?” With age comes wisdom and the need to look cool and official wanes. However, the enthusiasm for the sport was genuine and no group of people embodied it more than a group from Moon Township, Pennsylvania aptly named “The Moon Cyclists”

Our group of North Parkers were quickly adopted into their group after we all met in the ACA Time Trials and Races. Jody and Gary Gillis, Mike and Judy Mihok, Gary Bywaters, all took George and Debbie, Art Bon, the Habays and me into their fold. The unifying thing among us was not just the love of the sport of road racing, but the social aspect of having a beverage or two after a group ride or race was over. In the winter, we used to use the Ambridge Bike Shop facility in Coraopolis,Pa as a roller riding venue a couple of days a week in the winter to keep our cycling spirits alive. Rollers are cylindrical indoor training devices that move under the front and back weel and tend to improve balance and riding in a straight line. Sometimes the staight line was compromised as one’s attention slipped and the hapless rider would crash inside or ride into the wall much to the amusement of the fellow riders. We followed this up with spaghetti and beer at Segneri’s Restaurant as we laughed about how we “schvettted up the floor of the shop and fogged all the windows”, all the time making fun of each other. It became a tight group and we all looked the part of the serious racers thanks to the talents of Kathy Schnaubelt who made high quality cycling clothing at the time and still does today. Gary Gillis used to call her shop the “schvette shop ” with all the old ladies sewing away on the Singer sewing machines in very hot and humid conditions. But they seemed happy and our cycling kits had a big crescent moon on them and we took pride in wearing all of our Moon Cyclists gear. I wish I had some of that stuff left but it was indeed a long time ago and the “schvette” definitely destroyed the fabric over time.

Many rides and post ride parties were enjoyed over the years and it is amazing how good friendships developed. Peer activites and sports can bond relationships that can last a lifetime. Mike Mihok is an ER doc and I credit him with actually saving my life when I ended up in his ER with stabbing pains in my back. Mike instantly knew my previous history of having a DVT in my leg and recognized the signs of a pulmanory embolysim. He immediately admitted me and had a series of tests done to confirm the malady and had it not been for the quick action of Mike and his team, I might not be writing this blog. He was a good friend.

Sad to say, sometimes you don’t keep up with some friendships and they drift away without you really knowing it until the years pass. You have great memories and even though we have the excuse of kids, the job and aging parents and in-laws, the fact remains that to have a friend is to be a friend. I had too many great times with the Moon Cyclists to let that drift away and now I am in the mindset of trying to rekindle the relationships by what else? Putting together a group ride. I am going to do it and we will again tell the stories that we all like to tell like how we took Greg LeMond’s picture at the World Cycling Championships as he exited the port a john. We all were there to ride in Colorado and take in the race at the Air Force Academy. We were such fans then that in true paparazzi fashion, we could not wait to take pictures of the Tour Champion wherever and whenever we could. The poor guy couldn’t even hit the can without the Moon Cyclists all stalking him. Hilarious then and hilarious today. We can talk about how Gary would crave chocolate after a ride, eat it feverishly and then sink into a chocolate coma and become almost incoherent. Gary Bywaters instituted team time trials at the time and we all rode with each other in different combinations a lot of the time and laughed about how we performed or didn’t perform. How Larry Lynch yelled at us after his pull because our miles per hour slowed down after he killed us with each pull. We had several recovery beers after those time trials. Lots of good times -leather hair nets and all!!

As I watched the young guy with the shiny shaved legs drift away from me, I savored those old days in my mind and as we all have entered or will soon be entering the “empty nesters” league, we need to rekindle the fire of those old days. Not as fast, not in races, but definitely in fun and laughter. Make sure you keep in touch with all of your friends if you can. It is so important and it is never, ever too late to rekindle the “schvette together.” Thanks for reading.

September 15, 2013 by patmccloskey

The Wisdom of Mentors.

From the Best of Chronicles of McCloskey

I came in tonight from a very enjoyable mountain bike ride. The weather is changing and the leaves are falling. I bought my first gallon of cider and as I entered my house, the smell of sauerkraut was mesmerizing. My wife Janet is a phenomenal cook and she loves it as well. I told her the season and the smells of the house reminds me of when I grew up. My folks loved to entertain and usually on fall days, the mums started to show up on the porch, the smell of fall meals filled the house, my mom even put cinnamon, oranges, and spice in a pot to simmer on the stove to add to the atmosphere. She always said that entertaining is like a stage. The lighting must be right, the music soft and relaxing, and the candlelight’s warm glow adding additional class to a very inviting setting. My folks taught me the meaning of graciousness. I learned what a nice table setting was. I can remember going to the University Club and watching my dad engage the maitre’d and the waitstaff. They respected him and said, ” Your table is ready Mr. McCloskey.” My dad was kind and generous and I watched his every move as he listened to all of the folks who worked at the U Club. Nothing pretentious about my dad. He respected them and appreciated what they did in their jobs. I learned when it was appropriate to tip someone. How to eat using good manners at the dinner table. When to open a door for a woman, hold their chair for them when they sit at a table. Rise when someone comes to the table and greet them with a handshake and a smile. My dad was a fabulous mentor to me. I learned a lot from him.

The origin of mentoring is taken from Greek Mythology where an elderly gentleman named Mentor was chosen by Odysseus to look after his son Telemachus during the Trojan War. The definition that evoloved in the English language says that a mentor is someone who imparts wisdom, shares knowledge with a less experienced colleague. We can have many mentors in our lives or perhaps just a few who really imparted wisdom and left us with something that we find useful to this day. Larry Cohen was another mentor who you see in the above picture in the middle of the group. Larry was a true Renaissance man. He was an excellent tennis player when I first met him years ago. He showed me how to play doubles and enjoy the “apre- tennis” out of the back of Charlie Black’s trunk. Larry was one of two individuals who really helped me on my way to cycling and ski instruction. The first time I ever rode a road bike was after Larry took me to Ambridge Bike Shop years ago and helped me select my first Trek. He then accompanied me on a ride to Brush Creek Park with Charlie Martin and I was hooked. My love of cycling has been strong ever since. If it were not for the mentoring by Larry, I would not be riding today. Larry also got me involved in ski instruction when I joined his “Ski Academy” as an apprentice instructor. Larry taught me how to teach. Being an ex- Vail instructor, Larry knew the ropes and was not shy about sharing all he knew to all of us fledgling instructors. He told me about the organization called the Professional Ski Instructors of America and their certification program. I became involved, taught in New England, and eventually gained my certification after a grueling week of testing on a bullet proof Killington, Vermont venue. I would not have been there if it had not been for the mentoring and wisdom of Larry Cohen. Mentoring involves little things. What to wear, what kind of tubular tires work well on the road, what gearing to use in a road race, what was the advantage of a straight block in criteriums and how to have two sets of wheels for road races and criteriums. Why ski wax is important. Why sharp skis are important. Knowing whether a person is visual learner or somone who has to have the technical terms explained to them on a ski trail during a lesson. People learn differently and Larry taught me how to tell the difference.

I lost a mentor when my friend Chip Kamin died unexpectedly of a heart attack while mountain biking. Chip was a few years older than me and took me under his wing a long time ago. Chip was another Renaissance guy who was an examminer for PSIA and I remember going with Chip and Larry to many clinics and exam preparations in New England and Michigan. I listened to them as they talked ski instruction and I drank in every word. When I passed my full certification, Chip and Larry sent me a letter of congratulations welcoming me to the fraternity. Not a phone call, not a message on my answering maching, a typed and signed letter. First class all the way. Chip is seen in the foreground of the picture above with all of us in the shelter up at Tuckerman Ravine in New Hampshire. Chip climbed in the Himalaya and when we went to Tuckerman, we relied on his experience. He was fun to watch as he ice climbed over on the adjacent Huntington Ravine. He moved with grace and style and although his personality was quiet and assured, he imparted some real knowledge to all of us just by watching him ski and climb. Chip used to give us these little gems along the way. I wrote an earlier tribute post to him and listed some of his good advice. Lots of technical cycling and skiing knowledge came our way and it vanished all too soon this year in his unfortunate passing. Chip’s mentoring will always be with me. There are things that he said that stick with me as I ride and ski. I will never forget him and will always appreciate his friendship and his ability to impart wisdom and share knowledge.

My dad, Larry and Chip. Two guys with similar passions and one guy totally focused in the opposite direction. But even though my dad and these two guys had totally different passions and lives, their ability to take me and mentor me has always been appreciated. I hope that I have done this for my son. I also hope as I grow older, that I have at least imparted some life experience on some young guys and gals in my travels on the slopes and the roads and trails. We need to do this. We need to pass on this acquired wisdom to others. One of the great feelings that I experienced as a ski instructor was to see somone “get it” and see the smile on their face as they see the fruits of their instruction take hold. All of you reading have experience and “expertise” in many different areas. Take the time to share it and even though it may be uncomfortable at times, if someone asks you for help, lay it out for them in a kind, “mentoring” manner. Thanks again for reading.

September 12, 2013 by patmccloskey

The Power of the Magic Mirror

” Magic Mirror tell me today, did all my friends have fun at play?” This was the ending sentence of the daily query from Miss Molly to her children all over the country through her Magic Mirror on the TV program- “Romper Room and Friends.” My sister Molly was in fact, Miss Molly on the show back in the 80s when it was first syndicated nationally out of WOR- TV in New York. My sister was a Carnegie Mellon grad who majored in Music Theatre and following graduation was hired by the Claster family to be the new teacher on the show. The interesting thing is that I took her to New York for auditions and the last thing she auditioned for was the musical” The Best Little Whore House in Texas.” The following last minute audition was for the Romper Room role and she was hired. What a contrast in auditions.

The nice thing about having a sister with some notoriety, especially in the New York City area, is that we usually got a lot of nice perks with restaurant seating, tickets to Broadway shows, and the general satisfaction for me to see my little sister being asked for autographs and posing for pictures with kids of all ages. The neat thing is that Molly was always Molly and never let it go to her head. She was as gracious with strangers as she would be to any of her friends and relatives. I made it a habit to visit her and we would have a great time hitting all the great shows and restaurants and attractions that New York City has to offer. She and her husband Ray lived in Brooklyn at the time and it was always a fun experience for me to come in from the provinces and see the big city. Molly knew how to get around and always told me,” Quit looking up and around Pat, you look like a tourist.” She knew how to give a great hip check to someone trying to squeeze into a cab before us. After the guy would be off balance, she would say,” Get in Pat and don’t look back.” She was sweet and a nice girl but got worldly in a hurry living in the Gotham. Her driving was more aggressive than I remember and still is to this day. I guess you have to survive over there.

So one time, I came in to visit Molly and Ray and had my road bike with me to compete in an event that I saw advertised in Velo News, a magazine for cycling races and events. The event was called “The Bronx Biathlon” which entailed a road bike race followed by a running race- no swimming. The venue was a series of closed off parkways in the Bronx which were well marked and attracted a large participation from a variety of New Yorkers. I saw serious tri-athletes, road racers, and runners whose game faces were on and were competitive as one could imagine a New Yorker could be. The bikes were first rate with tri- bars, some disc wheels which were new at the time, and of course the obligatory Campy or Shimano Dura-Ace for components. My bike was no slouch at the time with my 3 Rensho frame and Shimano Dura Ace componentry. But being New York, there were also the competitors who were there just for fun with their beach cruisers or banana seat bikes. The outfits were a hoot with cutoff black Megadeath T-Shirts, black jeans, black tennis shoes, and the random long stainless steel chain connecting their wallets to their black belt loops. In their best Tony Montana impersonations, they tried to fit in but even the guy from the province of Pittsburgh knew they were out of their league.

The gun went off and my sister and Ray were my support squad giving me splits and postion reports along the way. It was interesting to be riding on an empty expressway in the middle of the most famous city in the world. I eventually made my way up to the competitive group and the run transition was where I became focused on an age group award. As the runnning portion of the race was winding down, I saw Ray who told me that based on the color of the race numbers which indicated age groups, he thought I was in second or third place and I stepped up my pace to try to win one of the Tag Heuer watches that were the prize. Imagine my disappointment when I found out I was fourth and they gave the overall winner two watches because he won overall and won my age group. To this day, I was amazed that they didn’t go one more deep because of his overall win. But I comfort myself with the fact that they were probably Tag Heuer watches that were most likely purchased at some corner stand on Madison Avenue. The knock off capital of the world.

As I got cleaned up and we watched the final awards, we went back to my sister’s car only to find that she had locked the keys in the car. So now, the crowds are thinning and the Megadeath guys are eyeing up my bike and giving us the evil eye. I approached a police officer, one of New York’s finest, an asked for some assistance with a “slim jim.” He coldly told me “no” and to call the Triple A. I looked at him with disdain and asked,” So you are going to let Miss Molly stand here an not be able to get home because you won’t make the effort to get into her car?” Yes- I pulled the card much to my sister’s disgust. But, the officer recognized Molly and said,” Holy s@#$, it is you!!!” He got on the radio and all of a sudden two squad cars, an emergency vehicle, a fire vehicle and another safety vehicle arrived within minutes and it was amazing to see how many officers and paramedics were working feverishly to open the door of the car. Afterwards there were the pictures and the promises by Molly to get all of their kids on the show and to Molly’s credit, she delivered. The children of New York’s finest were all on the show and what could have been an urban disaster turned into a nice affair with children from different parts of the city assembling with their dads on the set of Romper Room.

As I flew back that night on People’s Express( remember that dump of an airline?), I thought about the day, the life in New York, and the happiness that Molly spread to many children every day on a national basis. She saw a lot of kids in that mirror back then and the Bronx Biathlon was a great memory not because of the race, but because of the kindness and generosity shown all around us that day. New Yorkers are a special breed and my sister is a special lady. Thanks for reading.

September 8, 2013 by patmccloskey

How to torture your relatives.

My father had a great saying whenever I returned from one of my adventures. I told him about the event, the adverse weather, the rain, the snow, the cold winds, whatever. My dad said, ” Kind of sounds to me like hitting yourself in the head with a hammer. It feels so good when you stop.” He was right in a way. For some strange reason, I like foul weather. I have all the Gore Tex gear. I was always fascinated with weather and for reasons that I can’t really put a finger on, I always did better in events when the weather and the conditions went to hell. Snowstorms in the Month of Mud Mountain Bike Races, torrential rains in NORBA events, wicked cold weather and snowstorms on ski trips. I liked it when the weather was a factor. Even today, I try not to let weather ruin my fun. I put on the foul weather gear and go for it. Around here, if you don’t ski or run or ride in the rain, you don’t get much activity. Even when you go away, you run the risk of bad weather in any season and I always try to prepare for it and enjoy it in a quirky way.
Now that attitude does not necessarily apply to my family. Take my sister for instance. She is game, but I have tortured her in many ways on many different trips. We stood at the top of the Cirque at Snowbird in a raging snowstorm and our friend Mike Smith took a header down the slope and didn’t stop till he hit the bottom of the run. I looked at Molly and said,” You’re next.” She also gave me the deer in the headlights look when she started to see the snow slide on High Rustler at Alta after a harrowing trip accross the High Traverse. I made her ski on bullet proof ice at Killington,VT, then drive 5 hours to Sugarloaf, Maine to ski on ice balls the size of baby heads. It’s not that I am a tough guy or anything like that. It is just that I like to ski and will do whatever it takes to slide on snow. My sister likes it too but not to that degree. But she was a trooper in all that adversity. One year I took Molly and her husband Ray on a charity bicycle event which seemed tame enough except when we were about 5 miles into the event, the heavens opened up. They were soaked and hadn’t ridden a bicycle very much. As they were sopping wet, they faced a daunting hill and Ray quipped,” Looks like a walker to me, Molly.” I felt badly as they pushed their bikes up the hill while I tried to lift their spirits telling them that the rest stop was not far away. Yes- I tortured Molly and then her husband had the good fortune of being tortured by the jagoff brother in law. Again, not that I am vindictive or tough, or anything like that. I just try to make the best of adverse situations. Sometimes my positive attitude gets me a “Go suck an egg, Pat.” But eventually after the day is over, the furor dies down to a few laughs and good memories of athletic and meteorological torture.

You have seen the picture before of my wife skiing in the freezing rain. I have also had her and my son out in raging snowstorms in places like Eldora, Colorado. They try to smile and embrace my zeal. But oftentimes it generally breaks down eventually and a trip to a fire and a hot drink is in order. I have taken my wife on 4 hour hikes here in the Laurel Highlands to see a scenic overlook between Rt. 653 and Seven Springs Resort. She also was subject to a 6 hour hike in Nevada with the master of athletic torture, Eric Durfee, only to be comforted by Eric’s wife Helen and the teenage comments of my son Jack who endured the hike as well. But the views of Lake Tahoe and Reno were spectacular. Those views were a little lost on them at the time, but the pictures that are on our coffee table remind them that whatever doesn’t kill you makes you strong. They laugh but they think, ” What a putz.” Unfortunately I put the icing on the cake two weeks ago when Janet and I went hiking on our local trails and she fell on a rock and broke her elbow. I am not mentioning that the leaves will be changing soon and the hiking will be spectacular when she heals. I also am not mentioning that it is not far from ski season around here. I might leave that one alone while the poor soul is still in a sling. You see with not much effort and a lot of positive energy, you can torture your family on outings to the point where they question whether they will ever go anywhere with you again.

Maybe I do hit myself in the head with a hammer? Maybe I torture my family. But even my cynical teenager says, ” Dad- I know your heart is in the right place.” He will be off to college next year and I will be limited with potential torturous outings with him. However, my lovely wife will always have the opportunity to participate in “fun outings” only if she wants to do it. Sometimes I have pushed her and she responds in a positive way and has a good time in the great outdoors. But I will be discerning in the future. But, then again, our good friend Debbie Sagan says,” Hey Pat, we are active people. Things happen.” She just got over some broken elbow issues herself and is back on the trails running with her pal Mary Jo Neff. Deb fell and got hurt on her bike a few years ago and now competes in and wins triathlons. Torture is a state of mind. You either embrace adversity and grab the experience for all it is worth or you punt. Nothing wrong with punting, but you might just miss a good time in the rain, snow, or heat. One thing I know, my sister, my son, and my wife will always have memories of the crazy outings that they have participated in with the 58 year old kid. They did real well. They just don’t want to know details of the amazing adventures I have had in really crummy weather. “Hey- my head feels good now?” Thanks for reading.

September 5, 2013 by patmccloskey

Dogs Like Me- I taste like chicken!!!

Now before I begin this rant,I will make all of my disclaimers on man’s best friend. People love their dogs, there are a lot of loving dogs, there certainly are loyal dogs especially when you look at law enforcement and see the love between master and best friend. My experience with the visually impaired has taught me the value of guide dogs. Dogs are great…………for most people…….except people like me. Don’t get mad at me. Don’t berate me. It is just that dogs in general do not like me. I thought they did until I began to realize that they really didn’t and could sense my fear and trepidation. Now you ask,” Pat- you are the outdoors guy?” “How can you not have a dog out in the woods with you while you ride, hike or snowshoe?” Seems likely that I would have a dog -right? Well let me tell you why I do not have one and it is not anything against dogs or dog owners. Ok Dave?
Years ago, I used to sneak through my neighbor’s back yard waiting to hear the panting, hot breath of Buster the boxer as I came in from the old neighborhood. If I could get the jump on him, I could stay ahead of him until I yelled for my mom at the top of my lungs,” Mom!!!!!- Open the door!!!!” My mom would open the screen door and I would dive into the kitchen and Buster would bang his head on the screen and bark until my mom told him to get lost. This was a ritual every day and the neighbors would understand but didn’t pay too much mind to control Buster until the day that a car controlled him out in front of our house on Siebert Road. Too bad for Buster but a sense of relief for the rattled kid.

Fast forward to my road riding days. I had two routes that had canine adversaries on the way. One was a rather large St. Bernard on the road to Brush Creek Park. It was a farm dog and for some strange reason, it liked to rush into the street and chase bicycle riders. It would not bite but delighted in trying to bump you off of your bike with it’s bulbous, monstrous head. This was un-nerving because a crash on a road bike is not fun especially when you are knocked sideways by a beast of a dog who was bred to rescue people? On another route, the Freedom Road route there was a very savage Doberman Pinscher. This canine predator was also a farm dog and was pretty intelligent as well as vicious. This is where I thought I tasted like chicken because he always went for my legs. The tactic for me and also told to my friends, was to charge the downhill before the farm and get a good start up the hill because the Doberman would try to head you off at the pass. I can remember time after time racing down the hill, looking for him to my left, seeing him, sprinting up a rather steep hill to try to outrun the animal. Every time it seemed he tried to cut us off higher and higher as he was getting the idea that we slowed down at the top of the hill. I had a few close encounters with him as I barely escaped his open jaws and menacing teeth. Another menacing Rottweiler always came charging at us out of a graveyard up near Mars,Pa. I often thought it was Satan coming to get us as I checked my head for the number “666.” Always got the jump on us out of the tombstones. Very eerie.

A few years ago, I was running on the local golf course when a Rottweiler came charging after me as I saw his owner in the distance. They had been walking on the course and when the dog saw me he bolted in a dead run towards the 58 year old kid. He jumped up on me as his owner was yelling. I was startled and kept saying,” Now nice dog. Lets go to your dimwitted owner and see if he can get you off of me?” He kept jumping up and barking until I got within 5 feet of his owner and then he turned and bit me on the arm. Fortunately it was winter and even though he broke skin on my arm, he had to bite through some clothing. The owner wrestled him down and when I asked about his tags, he said they are all up to date. He gave me a very muffled “Sorry man” and then took off with his beast into the distance. My wife was appalled that I didn’t get his name but I figured I was ok and proceeded to treat my wounds with peroxide and hit the shower.

When I go to a party, it is amazing how the dogs of the house sniff my crotch. WTH? Why is it always me when there are perhaps 20-50 people at a party? My wife says the dogs can sense fear and they sure can sense it in me. I go mountain biking with my friends and when we come up on some hikers walking their dogs, they always go after me. My friends all get a kick out of it and they feel safe because they know they can ride on because the dog will always go for Pat. See, I must taste like chicken. So when my wife says that we should have had a dog for my son Jack, I always state that it was a pre-nuptual agreement not to have a dog. I know that boys like dogs but I am sure that I would have been the one feeding the dog, walking the dog, and picking up the discarded cigars after the dog. Yes, my wife would have done it, my son would have done it for a while, but I would have had my fair share of droppings retrieval and walking a beast who probably would have growled at me daily in my own house.

So if you see me some time and I sheepishly reach out to pet your dog and say the obligatory,” Hi there- nice doggie, hahahahahahah.” You will know that I am nervous as hell and that maybe you should pity me and keep your dog in the garage or something. Sorry all you Facebook dog people. Nothing against dogs. They are great for most people. But when you taste good to them, you are living a life with one eye open all the time. Thanks for understanding and thanks for reading as always. “Hey mom-open the doooooooooooor” Boom!!!!!

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