Tag Archives: inspiration

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The “Renaissance” Man

We had a former pastor say one time that there are people in this world who are “drainers.”  People who will suck the living life out of you with their neediness and high maintenance ways.  Then there are people who fill your personal cup to the brim and overflow it with kindness, appreciation, information, friendship, and other enhancements to your life that make you appreciate with wonder- why do they do it?  How do they do it? ” Boy, am I glad that they do it.” ” They are a real force in my life.”Usually people like this have many talents and interests.  I call them Renaissance men or women.  They appreciate life and all it has to offer and are willing to share their talents, wisdom, care and friendship with those around them.  One such person in my life is a guy named Don Cunningham.  photo

Now I am not going to DWELL on the fact that Don is an accomplished freelance engineer for sports television or that he has traveled the world working events like the Olympics, the US Open Golf Tournament, the Masters, Steeler games, Penguin hockey games, Pirate baseball games, the Tour of California bicycle races, the US Pro Cycling Challenge.  Nor am I going to DWELL on the fact that he takes his gear with him and gets a road ride or a mountain bike ride in, or even some slope time skiing.  But Don makes the most of his travel and is not a “slam clicker.” https://chroniclesofmccloskey.com/2013/05/19/dont-be-a-slam-clicker/

Again, I am not going to BELABOR the point that Don is also a very accomplished mountain biker who has an enthusiasm for the sport that is infectious to others around him.  When you see his fitness, and skill level in negotiating rocks, roots, stumps, steep downhills, and grueling uphills, you are amazed at his riding ability.  Don has competed in some of the most daunting MTB races on the planet including the Trans-Alps in Europe as well as being a 10 hour finisher at the Leadville 100 garnering the coveted silver belt buckle.  But he is very humble about his accomplishments.  Kind of like a “ho-hum- yes I did that”  response.  But with all his ability on the bike, he is willing to ride with new riders and show them the ropes of the riding game with a smile on his face and a willingness to spend whatever time it takes to introduce a newbie to the sport.

I similarly am not going to PONDER on how he skis with fluidity and enjoys the winter months almost as much as the more comfortable months because he is willing to subject himself to the weather or any ski conditions. We went to Holimont last season in Western New York and had a wonderful day together at this private ski club and Don handled the cut up Lake Erie fluff with style.  His turns were strong and deliberate but his enthusiasm for the day was the most memorable thing to me.  We both are ski nuts and it was wonderful to share the winter wonderland with a friend like Don.  He even drove which was even more pleasant.  photo

The guy has been everywhere, done everything, and always seems to be in the mix of the fun events that mark our outdoor sports world.  If there is a big ride – Don is there.  If the skiing is good locally or out west- Don is there.  He makes friends easily as is evidenced by his recent meeting with a good friend of mine in Aspen on a mountain bike ride.  He was a bit lost and rode up to some folks on top of a ridge in Aspen.  With a smile, he asked for directions and the girl noticed the pronounced Pittsburgh accent.  After a few exchanges she found out that Don was a friend of mine.  Laughs abounded and now Don is a new riding buddy for Liz Talenfeld when he goes to Aspen.  He is like that.  Makes friends easily and people like to be with him.

Finally I am not going to GO ON SHAMELESSLY, about how Don makes absolutely the best beer in the universe.  His skill as a craft brewer is legendary and at every mountain bike picnic whether he is there or not, his beer is there and the accolades ring far into the night fueled by the current Cunningham IPA.  He is a Renaissance man, I tell you, in every sense of the word.  Traveler, athlete, educator, brewmeister, but most of all…………Don is a friend.  He probably has mastered that skill the best.  He is truly one of those individuals who fills your cup or fills your spirit and when you have spent some time with Don on the slopes, or on the trail, or sitting by his keg of IPA, you feel so much better just having spent the time with him.  He is compassionate, knowledgeable, energetic, and in most instances can grind you into the dust at his chosen sport.  But being an enthusiastic friend is what he does best.  If you can assemble some Renaissance men or women in your life, you are truly blessed.  We all have our share of drainers.  Oh, and one more thing………he does it all with a prosthetic leg.  Be inspired.  Thanks for reading.

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Bitten by the Ski Bug

Back in 1961, my mom and dad( who did not ski) took my sister and I for the first time to Seven Springs Resort here in the Laurel Highlands of Pennsylvania.  It was a terrible experience of travel that cold March night on the turnpike and I remember clearly my dad white knuckling our car all the way to the Donegal exit.  What transpired that weekend was a lifelong love of skiing that was made possible by the generosity and care of my parents.  On a subsequent visit to Hidden Valley the following year, my mom skied for two feet.  At the prodding of her friend Virginia Ruth, my mom put on the skis, slid for two feet, fell on her head and said,” That’s it- take the damn things off.”  She never skied again nor did my dad who had back surgery and skiing was not in the picture.

Fast forward and I was a regular on the Friday night ski bus from the little ski shop in the North Hills Village shopping center.  My dad made friends with the owner and she said she would look out for me with all the high school kids on the bus.  How I skied with my wooden skis, cable bindings, and leather lace up boots is still a mystery to me.  The slopes were icy, no grooming to speak of, early primitive snow making or no snow making at all, at night, cold as hell.  But I loved it!!!  The ski bug bit me and the venom of that bite still flows through my veins- 53 years later.  I spent weekends after that at the Rich cabin on County Line Road and the weekly trip to the Laurel Highlands was the norm for me.  I had a smile on my face the whole way.  Franklin Park-20130307-00105

I have skied in 108 different areas to date and still manage to take several trips per year out west and to New England.  If you look at my bio, it shows my history in the sport and people ask me why I still ski at Seven Springs when I have the opportunity to ski elsewhere during the season.  The reason is put best by a guy that I rode the chair with last weekend.  As we braved the new snow on opening day at the Springs, I remarked to him that people asked me why I was going up to ski 3 slopes this early in the season.  He said,” Why not?  You make the same turns here that you do at Jackson Hole.”  How true.  I love to make turns- whether it is at Seven Springs or elsewhere, skiing is fun.  What else should I do on a Saturday morning- watch cartoons?  My friends from 53 years of skiing are still there and we all get together on opening weekend to catch up, drink coffee and tell each other about the new equipment we have and trips we will take.  Skiing is addicting and it is a lifestyle not just something we do.  I like to consider myself a skier and not just someone who skis.  There is a difference.  I also noticed this past Thanksgiving weekend that there were as many gray hairs and beards out there as there were young kids.  When you are bitten by the ski bug, you are a skier for life.  Whatever metaphor you like- bitten, hooked, etc, skiing is part of your life and that opening day no matter where it is excites you.  I still can’t sleep the night before.  Just like when I was a kid.  Love the Laurel Highlands.  O'Hara-20130104-00081

Returning back to last weeks post, ” Pay it Forward”, the ski bug or hook can be set by someone bringing new people into the sport.  My friend JR who I work with, has taken the time to bring his son Isaac to ski.  Along with Kate, Sydney, Joey and Jackson, they get up early, make the trek to the mountains, and ski together.  JR is a good man.  He is not wild about skiing but sees that Isaac and his pals and cousins love it and so he puts himself out there as the sherpa much like my dad did with us when my sister and I started.  Sometimes a friendly word from an outside source such as yours truly helps the process.  JR was skiing at Hidden Valley last spring and called me to tell me that he had the group there.  I immediately went to my car, drove with my ski boots on( a real acquired skill as a skier), and located them at HIdden Valley.  One of the boys was struggling a bit and I saw the problem and asked JR if I could intervene.  He responded in the affirmative and with a few friendly pointers, the kid who might have quit for the day became hooked- or bitten, and this past weekend, he skied better than ever according to JR.  You need a good start in the sport and whether you take a lesson or you learn from someone who knows, the initial experience is crucial.  So many people go skiing with a friend, get hurt, have a bad experience because their start was not good.  Take the time to learn properly.  Kids acquire skills naturally and take to the sport reasonably well.  But a few well placed words of instruction can mean the difference between someone catching on or someone quitting and never returning to the mountains again.  Guys like JR, my dad, Bob Rose all took the time and made the sacrifices so that kids like me and this group, could take up the sport of a lifetime.  I will always be grateful to my dad and Bob Rose- and this crowd will always be grateful to JR.  In the immortal words of Oswald, the old mascot for Seven Springs in his Tyrolean hat and Leiderhosen- ” Leben Weider” – Live again!!!  The excitement, the passion, the fun all reside on the slopes for me and I can’t wait for each season to start.  850 vertical feet and 3 slopes- you bet.  I will be there!!!  Thanks for reading and be passionate about something.  IMG_20141129_122823049

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Pay it Forward

Thought I would send the weekly post a little early due to Thanksgiving.  Speaking of which, I am thankful for people like Bob Bannon, the Lord of Lumens, for his friendship and being the glue to the local mountain bike community.  I am waiting for ski season but will still ride until it becomes a muddy, icy mess on the trails.  So last Saturday it was 18 degrees and I put out the message about the ride and only Bob, and a new young guy named Matt, and I showed up in the Family Dollar parking lot.  Our mission was to ride the fast and flowy trails of Deer Lakes Park here in Allegheny County in Western Pa.  Now Bob, being the Pied Piper of all mountain bikers here in the burg, was happy to show the new guy around.  Matt is a nice kid but really, I have socks older than him and Bannon is older than I am by a few years.  So it was Matt and the old guys heading out on the trails.       In true Bannon fashion, Bob makes the ride enjoyable because he describes where we are going to ride, what to look for by way of obstacles, and what trail maintenance he has done on the trails to make them flowy and enjoyable.  He puts a lot of volunteer time in and enthusiastically sends out weekly messages about rides in the area, where to meet, and when.  Getting back to the frigid ride, we were bundled up and as Bob went through his routine, we both noticed that Matt had a nice bike and was riding in running shoes.  Being the inquisitive guy that I am, I started asking him about where he was from.  Turns out he went to IUP and spent some time in forestry in the wilderness of Northern California.  Tough kid, good rider, but running shoes have to go.  Bob and I both gave Matt some advice about the virtues of clipless pedals and shoes.  The kid took it in stride and I think we may have made an impact because I think he sees the value and will get those items shortly.  photo

As the ride progressed, Bob and I were impressed at Matt’s fitness and his riding ability despite the handicap of running shoes. He also rode with no gloves.  Amazing!!! 18 degrees!!  We came across a guy we know from riding who was walking his dogs.  As I handed him my camera to take some pictures of the frozen trio, the big dog climbed up on me and barked in my face and the ratty little dog bit my shin.  I don’t have much luck with dogs.  I tell people that dogs like me………I taste like chicken.  You can have dogs, but that is another blog post followup.  We had lots of tales for Matt about local riding and riding in the west.  Matt met us through an organization called Meet Up. http://www.meetup.com.  Bob’s posting of weekly rides is on their web site and Matt hit it right when he had the opportunity to ride with Bob.  photo

The freezing rain started falling at the end of the Deer Lakes ride and as we ventured out into the parking lot, I gave some more advice to Matt to get back on the grass because the pavement was slick.  Too late.  Matt was down and I was a little late with more advice that would have enhanced his experience.  Bob and I were happy to have Matt that day.  We both like the opportunity to get people enthused about mountain bike riding and never miss an opportunity to “pay it forward” like people did for us back in the day.  Bob pays it forward big time every week……every day.  Good guy.  Lots of people like to ride with Bob.

An additional payoff was when I was tipped off at the OTB Thursday night ride that we would be stopping at the Deer Creek Diner for their famous pancakes after our ride on Saturday.  Matt was all in,  and we changed clothes and gingerly made our way our of the park on the glazed roadways to the diner in Russleton,Pa- right around the corner.  The coffee was hot and good, the service was very friendly, and the pancakes………….well…………..have a look.  Amazing!!!  I bring my own Vermont maple syrup when I have a chance to prepare like this outing and it is the only syrup that would do justice to these colossal cakes.  Matt had the chance to experience Grade A fancy syrup and Bob and I relished the morning knowing that we had given Matt a good ride, a good breakfast, and as a grand finale- Bob wrote down the exact specs for Matt to purchase a light so he could ride with our group on the trails after dark.  I hope that Matt reports back to” Meet Up” that he had a good experience with two knowledgeable, fun old codgers who showed him a beautiful trail system, fed him well, and gave him valuable lighting options.  photo

Really- this is what mountain biking or skiing is all about.  Sharing knowledge, enthusiasm, planning, and general frivolity in a relaxed environment.  Good exercise with the hopes that guys like Matt pay it forward some day soon.  The more riders the better the riding.  So, pay something forward.  Help out a new guy.  Share your experience and knowledge with someone.  I have done that and now all the people I have taught are killing me out on the trails.  Go figure.  Have a wonderful Thanksgiving.  We all have a lot to be thankful for- health, happiness, and friends like Bob.  photo

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The Allegheny Crawl

There are a lot of distractions today for kids and their parents.  X Box, Play Station, soccer, baseball, organized teams, with all kinds of practices, games and meets.  So much more than when I grew up in a less harried environment.  Parents today rush around hauling their kids to multiple events and the logistics are mind boggling. Video games offer entertainment while parents tend to catch up on their own lives, but life is gas pedal to the floor in most households today. My parents did a lot for my sister and me back in the day, but the center of most of the activity was the community pool.  Moms tended to be stay at home in those days and as they lined up in their chaise lounges every day in what the guards called “hysterectomy row”, they cheered us on in our practices and meets with the swim team.  photo

I was a decent swimmer back then but only had a limited repertoire.  I could not swim the butterfly, backstroke was weird and I kept hitting the lane markers, freestyle was good for 25 meters and then I was fried.  But I could swim the breastroke all day because it was a natural stroke for me.  Problem was that I had some pretty good competition with the Rose brothers, Dru Duffy and Johnny Kane who were all talented breastrokers and I battled out the time trials in order to compete in the meets.  Sometimes I was successful and sometimes not but it was a good lesson for me that anything that you wanted in life, you had to work for and there were winners and losers.  Not everyone got a trophy, medal, or ribbon for just showing up – you had to learn to be a gracious winner and an equally gracious loser.  I swam in the winters too at the Allegheny YMCA on the northside of Pittsburgh in a rather rough neighborhood.  I saw fights, stabbings, police chases, and other various and sundry activities but my mom was steadfast in her belief that I should see all kinds of people in all kinds of situations.  My folks exposed us to a lot of athletic activities but interestingly, they were not athletic at all and had very little interest other than they thought these activities would be good for Molly and me.

The final activity of the summer/early fall after all the swim meets were over, was the annual Father-Daughter, Mother-Son relay where the parents had the opportunity to show off their prowess much to the delight of their kids and their friends.  As my mom lined up on the other side of the pool, she was on stage in her new suit and matching flowered bathing cap.  As the gun went off, she was the last one in the pool and began what she lovingly referred to as “The Allegheny Crawl.”  This was an odd stroke that was a combination breastroke/freestyle with a weak flutter kick that propelled my mom by the minutes instead of seconds as she flailed her way dramatically towards me.  She smiled at her friends and at me as if to say,” I will get there – be patient.”  Edna Kane had already touched the wall and John took off while I sat on the block waiting for my mom to “crawl” her way to the end of her lap.  With my little pot belly and Speedo at ready, I was amazed to see that the race was already over by the time my mom touched the wall and the silence of the crowd was deafening as I swam furiously to the other end of the pool.  The cheering was long over and my finish as an “also-ran” was a little humiliating.  But I smiled and congratulated my mom who was holding court and laughing with her friends.  But perhaps the most rewarding moment for my mom was to see my dad’s eyes as he hugged her with pride for attempting the event in the first place.  My mom and dad were always there for each other and my sister and I were always in second place.  They had a great marriage and it was evident in scenes like this when the pride in my dad’s eyes completely overshadowed the performance of the McCloskey mother- son relay team.  photoThe little guy holding the corner of the flag is me with my rival but good friend Johhny Kane to my left.  photo

Things were a lot less complicated in those days and the lessons learned at the community pool have lasted with me for a while now.  The competition, the practices, the atmosphere where all the kids and moms were safe and sound at the pool was comforting.  The lesson for me was that as much as we have tried to do for our kids and as much as generations will do in the future, the main thing is to put your spouse first like my folks did.  As the relays ended and the years at the pool marched on, I knew looking at my folks that all was well with the world when I saw the love in their eyes.  They rushed us to meets, practices, and all kinds of events like many of us do with our kids at great personal expense.  But the main focus was on each other.  I can imitate the Allegheny Crawl today and we all have a good chuckle out of that, but even though mom was not as fast as Edna Kane, she was stylish in her own way- crawling or not.  Long live Valley Brook Swim Club.  Thanks for reading.

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Opportunities

Next week I celebrate 26 years of marriage to my best friend and wonderful wife.  The picture you see here of Janet has been altered because I did not want to dilute the beauty of my bride on that wonderful day with my countenance as I would show that picture for the next 26 years.  It has been a great honor to be married to her and if I had not taken the opportunity that was presented to me 27 years ago, I might not be in the position that I am today as her husband and father to our son.

Let me take you back to the days when I was a 33 year old bachelor, living a rather structured life. Typically, my life looked like this:

  • Wake up
  • pack my cycling gear or running gear
  • go to work
  • drive to North Park and either run or ride with my posse of friends
  • summer time- Tuesday night road cycling time trials
  • summer time- Wednesday night road cycling Criterium races at the Highland Park Zoo parking lot
  • winter- run trails with lights
  • winter- ski every weekend
  • eat at the “dump” ( a local greasy spoon) or the default Italian restaurant with my cronies
  • go home
  • lay on the floor and watch HBO until bedtime
  • get up and do it all over over again – the next day or weekendphotophoto

This was very easy to do and all of our crowd would know where we all were every night of the week or every weekend.  The routine was great and I was getting used to not doing much in the evening but resting for the next days athletic activities.  I had an old TV that I pilfered from my mom and dad and got pretty good at laying on the floor and changing the channels with my toes because I had no remote.  My townhouse was pretty low maintenance and whenever I left for a race or a ski trip, I just locked the door and went my merry way.  Life was good and my friends were faithful and held me accountable to work out.

One day, my future mother in law, whom I have known for many years, asked me what I was doing lately. ” How is your love life,Patrick?”  I would tell her I was like a cactus in the desert with an occasional tumbleweed passing through on a late night windstorm.  She laughed and said that Janet ( I have known her since she was 8 years old- that is another story), was going to a party with her flight attendant friends and maybe I should go to meet all of them?  I responded that I would like to do that and when the day came, I was laying on the floor, watching the tube, comfortable after a shower, toeing the TV, and wondering if I really wanted to go seeing that I had  big ride scheduled for the next morning.  But I thought, “what the hell, might as well go.  You never know who you will meet and take advantage of the opportunity”.  Well, I went to the party and sure enough, the most attractive girl was Janet.  I was a slave to fashion at the time( not) and picked up all the girls in my Blazer with my baggy shorts, my grandfather’s fishing shirt, and running shoes.  Janet later remarked that she called her mother and told her about my crazy outfit.  I still wear that type of stuff today.  But as we talked at the party, I began to scheme how I would attract Janet into going out with me.

The long and the short of it was that I took her cycling.  I picked up her bike at her folk’s house and when they asked me what I was doing, I told my future in laws that I was fixing Janet’s bike.  They asked if I knew that she was dating a guy she worked with and I said,” I will make her forget his name.”  They laughed about that for years and our dating career started at the Park.  Janet was a little intimidated when she saw the sea of lycra, helmets and road bikes but I assured her that we would take a little ride and then go get something to eat.  Fast forward, Janet has been subject to all of my passions at the park and on the slopes and has handled it with grace.  She has had some mishaps as of late with a broken elbow last summer while hiking and a broken humerus ( not humorous) on a rails to trails ride this summer.  I have taken her skiing in the freezing rain, blinding snowstorms out west, bullet proof conditions at Whiteface in the Adirondacks, and various other adventures that she might have never experienced had she not met the 59 year old kid.  But the best adventure for me was taking the opportunity to go to that party and experience how a kind and loving person could enhance my rigid life.

I guess the point of all this is that if you don’t take opportunities in your life and stick to the mundane and the routine, you might never experience life to it’s fullest potential.  The operative word for all of us should be ” yes” because you never know what might present itself, what great place to be experienced, what wonderful people you might meet, and what life changing experience might unfold right before your eyes.  I have had a lot of experiences in my day because I was crazy enough to always say “yes”.  But the best experience for me was the day that I took an opportunity and said,” I do.”  Thanks for 26 great years Janet.  Thanks for reading.

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To be…….”Trans- Generational”

     What does it mean to be trans generational?  I would explain it as being involved with activities and interaction with different age groups with a common purpose.  OTB at the North Park Boathouse

 

Take for instance when I was a kid, my mother would make me dinner early because ” my friends” were calling me to fill in for the men’s doubles tennis league at our community pool complex.  These guys were my dad’s age but respected the fact that I could play the game and was mature enough to handle the interaction with an older generation.  It was lots of fun and I did learn some things that taught me that I had maturity beyond my years especially when an argument would ensue.  I had first hand knowledge of how ” adults” handled these situations and sometimes saw the maturity level dip a long way when one of the guys hit another over the head with a racquet.  But for the most part- the trans-generational activity was positive for me as a young man.  

     Fast forward and now I was in my late teens and interacted with some older guys who helped me get involved with ski instruction.  Chip Kamin was only a few years older than me but Bob Irish and Larry Cohen were in their forties at the time and we had a great time skiing together.  Their wisdom and inspiration allowed me to pursue certification with the Professional Ski Instructors of America and together they taught a young guy the ropes.  Point being that sports like tennis, fishing, golf, skiing, cycling are lifetime sports that can be enjoyed by people of all ages and abilities.  There are mentoring opportunities for older guys and also the interaction with young people keep that generation in the game.  IMG00227-20100731-0812

     In a recent article in the PSIA publication “32 Degrees” there is an article which references how some snow pros share their secrets to longevity.  The common denominator is to “keep moving”.  Each of the instructors that were interviewed were extremely active well into their 50s, 60s, and 70s.  They each talked about looking for opportunities to connect with other passionate people with diverse perspectives.  Oftentimes this results in older people interacting with younger people in a common passion like the sports mentioned above.  I can remember as I became a parent, how important it was to bring my son and my nephews and nieces along in the sport of skiing.  IMG00117-20100116-1123

As I got older, I made a point to bring along younger guys and girls into cycling and in one instance, I introduced mountain biking to Bill Kirk and his son Billy and young Bill and I still ride today- 20 years later.  To be trans-generational benefits not only the younger generation with wisdom and mentoring from the older set, but for us older guys, to have the opportunity to ride or ski with a younger crowd keeps us young not only in our mind but in our perspective on how the world is progressing.  You can learn a lot on a chairlift or on a mountain bike trail by talking to a younger person and see what is relevant in their lives.  Heck, I lost a musical perspective way back when ” money is for nothing and your chicks for free.” That’s where I lost track.  But keeping up with the times is important and to keep tabs on current musical talent via younger people is enlightening to say the least.  

     Skiing, mountain biking, road cycling and trail running all are good activities that can unite generations.  Oftentimes we have some good debate and try to solve the world’s problems but the key factor is the difference in perspective between professional people, teachers, students, and retired folks.  The common factor is the activity but the conversations and interactions are the result of having a common passion and the accountability to get together no matter how old or how young the crowd.  I used to laugh in a road cycling criterium race when I would hear,” Inside Mr. McCloskey” or ” inside Mr. Sagan” as a young guy would slip ahead of us older guys on the inside lane of the road.  I used to smile thinking that this was pretty cool that we all were racing together, people of different generations.  

     Currently I ride mountain bikes on Thursday nights with a group that for the most part is 25 -30 years my junior.  With the exception of a couple of older guys, this group has provided some fresh perspective on many subjects including the technology that has developed with cycling.  I like the ride and the people and even though we come from different generations, mountain biking unites us and our passion fuels us enough to come each week and be accountable to the ride.  So no matter what floats your boat, keep active.  Stay involved in the sports or hobbies that always sparked you.  And most importantly try to be involved with groups that are “trans-generational.”  That is the neat thing about lifetime sports.  They unite all of us.  Thanks for reading.  

 

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Don’t Give up the Ship

   One of my all time heroes in American History is Commodore Oliver “Hazard” Perry of the U.S.Navy whose command was  during the War of 1812.  When you read about Perry, you discover that he had a very distinguished naval career prior to and following the Battle of Lake Erie.  His battle flag read,” Don’t Give up the Ship” in deference to his great friend Captain James Lawrence who commanded the original frigate in peril during the battle.  Lawrence was a fatality, but the command shifted to the frigate Niagra where Perry took over and eventually defeated the British Navy forcing them to surrender.  His famous line,” We have met the enemy and they are ours”  is a testament to the tenacity of an outgunned, undermanned U.S.Navy whose leadership under Perry was able to take on and defeat the most powerful navy in the world.  

     During my travels to Rochester, NY or Toledo, Ohio, I always had my road bike with me and made a point to stop and ride at Presque Isle on Lake Erie.  There is a monument there dedicated to the construction of the ships that made up Perry’s command during the War of 1812, in and around Presque Isle and the bay. A similar monument and visitors center is situated at Put In Bay in Ohio.  One of the famous Lake Erie Islands, Put In Bay is easily accessed by the ferry  www.jet-express.com/   at Port Clinton, Ohio. I always took a ride on the ferry, rode my bike along the quiet roads on the island and always stopped at the monument and took in the video presentation of the Battle of Lake Erie at the visitors center which is managed by the National Park Service.  .  The presentation by the Park Rangers is worth the listen and it is always a must on any trip to Put In Bay.  The scenic roads around Presque Isle in Erie, Pa and the country roads of the Lake Erie islands always remind me of my youth when my folks took us to the lKing James 2012photo800px-DONT_GIVE_UP_THE_SHIP_flag.svg264px-BattleofLakeErie489px-Portrait_of_Oliver_Hazard_Perry%2C_1818ake for vacation. As I peddle along and see the cottages along the routes, it reminds me of a time gone by with swims in the lake, penny candy, and evenings along the shore looking at the stars.  

     But perhaps my most recent memories are again centered around this famous battle flag….” Don’t Give Up the Ship.”  When my son Jack played AAU Basketball as a grade school kid, we always had tournaments in Erie, Pa.  I always took the boys and the parents down to this little restaurant on the bay which had good seafood but more importantly to me, had this flag proudly displayed behind the bar.  As we all assembled around the bar waiting for our table, I took the opportunity to tell the boys the story of the Battle of Lake Erie and the courageous actions of one Oliver “Hazard” Perry.  ” Don’t Give up the Ship” was a rallying cry for our teams as we faced teams from all over the east and Canada in the AAU Tournaments.  We saw talented players who were much bigger and faster than our guys and we knew we had to face them in the next round.  As I began to get carried away with my enthusiasm for the Battle and the success of the frigate Niagra, I would encourage the boys to not give up the ship and remember the heroics of Perry and his men.  As their eyes widened with my overachieving enthusiasm, I was able to incite a little courage and oftentimes our Davids defeated the Goliaths on the basketball courts and we advanced to the final rounds.  I like to think that my speech in front of that flag was enough to attain the victory and that the boys were encouraged enough to play their hearts out.  Well, in reality, I can’t take credit for that for sure.  But a little encouragement goes a long way and helps to fuel the fire of competition.  As the years went by, I repeated the story to several of my son’s teams and when they were juniors in high school and in their last years of AAU Tournaments, it got to the point where my son preempted my speech by saying,” Don’t say it Dad!!!”  ” We have all heard it and we know…………..Don’t Give up the Ship.”  We all laughed but I looked at that flag with a fire in my eyes for our team and for my hero- Oliver” Hazard” Perry.  

     I have always been a fan of the underdog.  The little guys on a team, the kid that always strikes out, the kid with little talent but a lot of heart, the friend who has lost his job, the divorced friend who is trying to find peace, the downtrodden, the parents facing a child’s medical procedure with a life in the balance.  These are the people in our lives who need encouragement.  These are the people who need a friend at the times when it might not be convenient.  These are the folks whose name I write on my pad at work so that I don’t forget to give them a call or get together with them.  My memory is a little sketchy these days.  But these are the folks whose hope needs restored.  My mom always said to have a friend is to be a friend.  She was so right.  Encouragement is the fuel for recovery and whether we invite a person to dinner, ride bikes, ski, hike, or any activity in which conversation can be shared, it is well worth it and no matter how badly the person is defeated, the care of a friend saying,” Don’t Give up the Ship” is appreciated and may turn the tide for that person………..just like the Battle of Lake Erie.  Call a friend today.  Thanks for reading.  

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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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“The Faceplant”

IMG_2349root If you examine the photo above, (click on the title of this blog if you don’t see it), you will see what I would term as one of the great face plants of all time. This is my friend Scott Root who was leading a mountain bike race down in West Virginia when he had a slight collision with another rider that sent him flying and tacoed his wheel. You can see this in the flying debris above Scott’s head. Now I have been over a lot of handlebars in my time both on the road and on a mountain bike and also have caught an edge on skis that sent me careening on my face down a snowy slope, but I have never seen a plant as heinous as this. Interestingly Scott survived and actually drove himself home and was nursing what he termed as “hole” in his shoulder. He had the foresight to go see a doctor the next day but somehow managed his pain after the race and on the long drive back from the mountains of West Virginia.

I tell you all of this not only to give you appreciation of the collossal face plant, but also to tell you a little bit about Scott Root. I first ran into Scott years ago when he was an outstanding swimmer and a terrific athlete even at a young age. We are contemporaries and his prowess as a swimmer was well known in the AAU circles. He went on to a very successful high school and college career and I ran into him years later when he entered the fray of mountain bike racing. ” Weren’t you the Scott Root that I knew years ago as a swimmer?” The affirmative answer also led to many discussions which included the fact that Scott was the silver medalist in the World Masters Mountain Bike Race in Quebec a number of years ago. He is a very successful local and regional racer and to this day still races in the Expert Category rather than compete with the Masters who are his contemporaries. Point being that Scott still rides and races at a very high level despite the fact that he is a contemporary of the 59 year old kid. Some of us have kept up riding and staying in shape because it is important for good health. Scott takes it one step further by staying in race shape and never letting his guard down over the years.

Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwin refer to the classics bike racers as “hard men of the peloton.” If you look at my post from last week, you will see George Hincapie competing in Paris Roubaix and he surely was one of the “hard men of the peloton.” Scott Root would qualify as one of the hard men around here. Not many guys could pick themselves up after a face plant like that and get home with a “hole” in their shoulder and not seek medical help until the next day. Not many guys his age can ride at that level against a much younger competition and still win and place in most Expert Races. Not many guys are that dedicated that they commute to work on a bike in all kinds of winter weather and searing summer temperatures. Scott does and remains a very fit individual. There is a lesson here. I always try to encourage folks to get involved with outdoor pursuits and even at my age, you can keep doing what you have been doing as long as you are consistent and nothing catastrophic happens to you. Ratchet it up a level and some of you can continue to ride, run, ski hard and do it at a very high level. Ratchet it up one more level, and you continue to train and race like Scott and keep being competitive at an older age. No matter where you find yourself, keeping fit and testing your limits, can be an enlightening and productive way to spend your off time. You would be amazed to see the older athletes out there today competing and just partaking in high level outdoor pursuits. You don’t quit playing because you get old, you get old because you quit playing. You don’t have to be a “hard man of the peleton” but you also don’t have to let age dictate your fun or lack thereof.

One other comment on the “Faceplant”. Many of us have faceplants in life that do not happen over the bar of a bicycle or on a pair of skis. Some of us have things going real well and then all of a sudden we have a job loss, the loss of a spouse, issues with children, aging parents, any number of things that can lead to a virtual faceplant but a tough experience nonetheless. Life is 10 percent what happens to you and 90 percent how you react to it. Can you survive the faceplants in life? I have had my share both literally and figuratively but I always find that having a positive attitude and counting my blessings in life help me through these “plants”. Never underestimate the power of thankfulness and prayer as you go through life’s faceplants. You may not be banging your head off the asphalt like Scotty here but if you take his attitude and get up to fight another day, you can be a “hard man” in your own right aided by the experience of a fall and the courage to face another challenge- day by day. Keep riding, running, skiing, swimming, whatever floats your boat and thanks for reading and following the blog.