Whitlingham Country Park

John and I picked up a cycling map of Norwich a while ago thinking it might come in handy. This morning I pulled the map out, pointed to the large park on the opposite side of the city from us, and said to John, "I want to go there."

John cycled in the lead and we stopped occasionally to consult the map on the most traffic-free route. On the way we discovered that Norwich has its own ski slopes.

At the park we walked around for a little while reading the informational signs. The broads (bodies of water more shallow than a lake) in the park formed from people mining the area for peat.

We saw the site of wood henge. (The henge isn't actually there anymore.) Now, if there is a stone henge, and a wood henge, my question is: where did the first little pig build straw henge? Since straw doesn't tend to last for a long time, we may never know. If I wanted to get all philosophical I might conclude from this that time is the big bad wolf.

But I digress. There was a cafe in the visitor's center so we had lunch there, cycled around the park, and then came home. John had to do some more fancy navigating because the road by County Hall was very busy due to a football game.

We live in a nice area that is good for exploring on foot or on bike and I really enjoyed the park. I am glad we were able to get out today, even though we will probably be very sore tomorrow.

I Can Haz Mousecules?

After the novelty of having bikes wore off, John and I went back to walking most of the time. It's hard riding up and down hills, locking and unlocking the bike, bungee-cording stuff in the basket, but mostly - riding up and down hills.

But there is a big difference in the amount of time it takes to get places. It can take 30 minutes to walk down town. And only 12 minutes to bike there.

When I walk down town, then my trip into town is pretty much the only thing I get done that day. But if I bike, well, I still have time to do other things.

So, in the name of time-saving, I've been biking more. The thing is, I just don't use those muscles for anything else. Biking hurts! I keep telling myself that if I keep doing it, eventually it won't hurt anymore. So far that hasn't been true. But someday...someday I will be able to get up a 6 degree incline without wincing.

E-N-C-Y-C-L-O-P-E-D-I-A

I remember my mother singing me Jiminy Cricket's "Encyclopedia" song when I was a kid often enough that I learned it. I can only assume this was because I asked a lot of questions and she was encouraging me to look up the answers so I would really learn something. But the most useful thing I got from the song was learning how to spell "encyclopedia." I am a very poor speller but that was one word I always knew how to spell. Not only that, but it was a very big and difficult word, so the fact that I could spell it impressed my peers for many years. It was one of two childhood parlor tricks, the other being able to say the alphabet backwords, which still sometimes impresses people.

I should have picked up on how the use of rhythm helped me remember how to spell things. My mother used a little cheer to teach me and Amanda how to spell "Mazzaferro," and I never forgot how to spell that either. EM AY ZEE-ZEE-AY EF EE ARR-ARR-OH Maaaaaaaazzaferro! (think: short, short, fast, fast, fast, short, short, fast, fast, fast, long) In later life I discovered that the letters in my yahoo address, sbmazzaferro, could be sung to the tune of "Old MacDonald" and heard the song in my head ever after when I signed in.

But I digress. The Wikipedia song that accompanies "The Ballad of John's LLM" is meant to be in the style of Jiminy Cricket's "Encyclopedia" song. I've tried to change it up a bit, but I think the resemblance is still there.





Perhaps you have guessed that not much has happened in the Nelson household this weekend. My bike stopped working yesterday when the chain jumped the track and could not be coaxed back on to any of the gears because the bolt holding the rack on was in the way. This morning I undid the bolt and revered its direction, so hopefully it will not be able to trap the chain again. For now, the bike is again roadworthy.

More Reflections on Biking

I first learned to ride a bike when I was, I think, about nine years old. At the time I felt like most kids learned at a much younger age, but now nine seems so young! I was very afraid to ride my bike because I didn't want to fall off. Even the training wheels frightened me because the bike would tip a little before one of the training wheels would catch and in that half an inch my stomach would do flip flops. I finally learned with the training wheels off by coasting down the driveway, feet off the pedals and prepared to catch me, and one hand on the side of the car. Like so many things I had to learn my own way and in my own time.

But once I had mastered the basics, I quickly became fearless. The bike I learned on had been purchased for me when I was much younger, and consequently was too small. Rather than being hindered by this, I called it a clown bike and proceeded to do stunts on it. While coasting down a very large hill in the neighborhood I would stand on the seat.

I did soon desire a bike I could really ride and pulled my mother's street bike out of the cobwebs. This bike, in contrast to mine, was much too big for me. I wrapped bubble wrap and towels around the middle of the frame and sat there. Once I got going I could stand on the pedals to sit in the proper seat. I had to plan my stops so I could lower myself back onto the frame before my feet needed to be on the ground.

I did finally get a fifteen speed bike that was my size, but the stunts certainly didn't end. I remember one time some of the neighborhood children had discovered that if you stopped quickly, your tire would leave rubber on the road. If you stopped quickly and maneuvered correctly, you could use your rubber marks to write letters. I told the boys to write an "o," somehow knowing that slamming on the breaks while making a sharp turn would make them fall over.

As I got older I didn't ride as much. Our neighborhood was hardly big enough to warrant a fifteen speed bike and I didn't have anywhere else to ride. But my senior year of high school I was on a moon buggy team. We built a moon buggy to compete in the race in Huntsville. Since our moon buggy was pedal powered and I was to be a driver in one of the rounds, I had to dust off the old bike for practice. What a shock to find how quickly you get out of shape once you stop biking!

And relearning how to bike at 24 has certainly been a shocking and humbling experience. My muscles don't seem to be getting sore with the promise of getting stronger, they seem to just be saying "NO!" My "bum" (as the British would say) strongly objects to the hard seat, the bumpy roads, and the lack of shock absorbers. Riding a bike to get places instead of for fun means that sometimes you can't actually ride (like over the walking bridge), and I am very bad at walking the bike. My right ankle has the bruises and gauges to prove it.

But, having the bike means more freedom for me. Today I rode to the city center by myself, bought a new set of sheets for the bed, and rode back. It didn't take hours (it's a 40 minute walk). And I didn't have to carry back my purchase by hand.

Now I just need to master round-abouts.

Bikes

Thoughts running through my head as I peddled down the road after John:

I haven't been on a bike since high school.

I have never been on an adult sized bike.

I have never ridden a bike on a real road.

I can't reach the ground very well, I think we'll need to lower the seat.

The fact that I am shaking is making it harder to ride in a straight line, and probably making it more likely that a car will hit me.




Not to worry, we made it home safely. And as for riding the bike. It's, you know, like riding a bike. I'll never forget.