Another Year Ends -- A Quarter Century @ 34,911.92

12/24/2014 -- 252lbs.
56 pounds lost since 8/30/2011

My bicycling year has come to an end, and I'm set to start another. For 25 years, starting in 1990, I've kept annual bicycling logs. I have recorded every ride during that quarter century: Distance, Time, Average Speed, Maximum Speed and a running Odometer, which I reset every year's end.

Ironically, however, my most "radical" biking years were before 1990, and especially before 1988, when I was single. I started riding bicycles in late 1971, and for most of the following 15 or so years the bike was my primary form of transportation. I wish now that I had maintained annual logs then, because my mileage totals must have been spectacular. There were a few "Centuries" (bicyclist lingo for 100 mile rides, approximating the effort of a Marathon), several other long trips with friends or alone, and of course commuting miles.

The last quarter century of bike logs help to kick in a lot of pleasant memories. Reading through them it is not a stretch to say that I can actually remember most of the rides, even the ones recorded over two decades ago. Every single trip out on the bike has had its own personality, its own "feel", or its own special memory. Like the time riding through Denver, coming home from work, when I had three flat tires and eventually had to call Bonnie to come pick me up. Or each one of the wonderful mountain pass climbs in the Rockies. Or the long, long desert rides near El Paso, my current home town.

In the past 25 years of keeping logs, I have ridden 34,912 verified miles on four separate bicycles. My fastest speed was 51 miles per hour, on a steep descent that goes down a mountain pass into the Copper Mountain Ski area in Colorado, early 90's. My longest ride was 62 miles over 3 mountain passes during a charity ride called the Courage Classic in 1993. That 62 miles was climbing mountain passes, so in my estimation it was "longer" than the centuries I rode in earlier years.

My favorite ride of all was a 25 mile tour of Lakewood, Colorado, using streets and bike paths, in the Spring of 2001. I was traveling through the Denver area on the way to visit my sister in Nevada. I called this particular bike ride "The Freedom Tour" and it ranked as my favorite ride because -- well, I felt so free. Free from chronic disease, immobility, prescription drugs, and all the other maladies that were beginning to attack my peers.

Freedom from those "maladies" is still with me at the age of 61, as this quarter century of riding comes to a close. I am in a unique position to continue riding as I continue to age, because of the extraordinary health benefits cycling has given me. I'm still out on the bike all the time, although riding mountain passes and doing centuries is probably beyond my abilities. But that old man you see riding on your neighborhood streets almost every day in Central/East El Paso? Probably me. I believe there's another quarter-century in my legs, and it is my goal to ride my bike with strength and dignity to my own 80th birthday party.

The short list of raw data from my Bike Log years, 1990 to 2014:

• Total Mileage: 34,911.92. 
• 3,659 individual bike rides, with an average of a little over 9-1/2 miles per outing
• An average of nearly 3 rides per week over a 25 year period

See you on the bike! Another 25 years starts Tuesday, December 30.

My Facebook Bicycle Friends

I'm a volunteer Moderator at a very busy Bicycle Forum, and it's interesting that many people I've known under their "screen names" there for 3+ years are becoming Facebook friends too. What is really interesting is looking at their FB profiles and finding out what they're really like. Sometimes the screen names and FB profiles don't quite add up . . . .

• "StreetSlasher" on the forums is really a stay at home mother of 4 that collects rose petals
• "Nightmare666" is actually a Baptist Preacher from Montreal
• "OldGuyOnASchwinn" is a 15-year old girl from Juarez, Mexico
• "Jennie's Mommy ♥" is a 65-year old male inmate at Folsom doing life for multiple murders
• "Jennie's Daddy ♣" is a 17 year old from Atlanta, actual name Jennie
• "TourDeFrance Master" is an assistant Manager at a Weight Watcher's franchise in Casper, Wyoming that has never ridden a bicycle in his lifetime

I love the internet! Of course, they'll never know what I'm really like because I lie at both the Forums and Facebook. Wait - - maybe they do, too?

Rrrrrriding in the Cold and Wind

Just like yesterday I went out on the bike late afternoon, even though the weather was c-c-c-cold and it was windy. It was very uncomfortable to walk through, and after I got settled into my chair at my

nice warm house my poor old decrepit body said "NO!" when I got up. But "got up" I did, and put on the jacket, gloves and helmet. My Father-in-law explained to me the depth of how crazy I was for wanting to go ride a flippin' bicycle in this weather.

But I swear, once you get out in it, and your legs are spinning the pedals, and your heart rate starts to climb, and the cold air slaps you in the face, it is difficult to understand why everybody is not out riding bicycles. The raw briskness, the fight against the wind, the scream inside of you that wants to get out and has finally found a way - - -

At 61 years of age I want to feel uncomfortable. When I am uncomfortable, and cold, and riding the miles - - That's when I grow. That's when I get stronger, both emotionally and physically.

See you on the bike!

Music Website Back Up

I had abandoned my old website (markstone.org) a couple of months ago because I was paying the web hosting people about $95 annually for it. I lost a job that I had at the time (posting smartphone articles at a busy tech website) and didn't want to use money from our family's "general fund" to pay for something that really was a hobby, maintaining the website.

But after markstone.org bit the dust, I had a few people at church come up to me with their sad, sad faces disappointed that my music videos, carefully housed at the ol' site, were not available any

longer. Yeah, I'm as surprised as you are - musical-talentwise I would consider myself adequate, slightly better than poor, and gaze in wonder at anyone who shows interest in listening to my music. At 61 years of age the Good Lord knows I can't sing any more, although I will admit my folk fingerstyle on guitar is pretty good.

Anyway, back by popular demand (I think there were 3 people, and two of them were in the same family), I've set up my music/guitar website again but this time at Google Sites, which is free. I've re-posted the videos and some descriptions of my instruments. Without shelling out the bucks, however, I don't get my "markstone.org" URL back, but - again - I'm unwilling to pay that much for a website unless I have the extra job - which I don't have any more.

Here's the link to the new site: Mark Stone - American Folk Guitar. Enjoy it, if you can . . .

The link is also at the top of this blog, too.

A new song written November 2014, called The Thanksgiving Song. Recorded on a cheap smartphone, using my Gibson Hummingbird Pro. The song is a simple 1-4-5 Relative Minor Cowboy-Chord Ballad -- Enjoy!

RIP Modo -- A Friend I Never Met

I love my volunteer position as a Moderator at one of the more influential online Bicycle Forums on the internet, BikeForums. It's a huge, busy, vibrant community of cyclists of all varieties. Usually there are around 1500 people logged in to the site at any given time.

I've discovered during my 3 year membership there, and my 3 short months as a Mod, that friendships created there are very real. Although we rarely meet each other face to face, the other people that post and discuss issues and tell stories are real people. The friendships that are created are just as real as most friendships in the "real" world.

Modo's Profile Picture at BikeForums

In August of 2011, at 308 pounds, is when I joined. Of course, the story of my weight loss since then is multi-faceted - but my friends in one of the sub-forums there helped quite a bit during my weight loss. Cajoling, encouraging, keeping me accountable (and me keeping them accountable) helped me lose 78 pounds in 16 months. We looked at each other using before-and-after pictures etc. and the friendships were solid.

After becoming a Moderator at the site, my view of the forums expanded considerably. And with that expansion came many more friendships. A number of people I met at BikeForums have become friends of mine on Facebook also.  It is very interesting to get to know these people from all over the world.

For the past two months, I have gotten to know a member there that went by the screen-name ModoVincere. He was a great person, who had forged a number of close friendships in the forums. In the decade he was a member, many people grew to respect him. My short two months jabbering with him built a bit of a friendship, although he and I were not as close as he and others. Today, his daughter used his account to log in to the forums and report that he had experienced a heart attack while riding on a stationary bicycle, and passed away. She said that he loved the forums, and the people in the forums, and spoke about them all the time. He was only 47 at the time of his death.

What was interesting is that the sense of loss I felt when hearing about Modo's passing was quite real. Even though our acquaintance was internet-only, he was a real person with which I had real interaction.

What an interesting world we live in. Since I'm older now, it would be easy to criticize internet "friendships" as not real, or with little depth. It would be easy to say that it would be better to concentrate on our families, and local "real" friends, than the ones we have never seen on internet forums or social sites. Then why did it feel like I got punched in the gut when I heard of ModoVincere's passing?

RIP my friend . . .

You Know, Every Day is a New Start

Well, today I'm taking The Black Knight bicycle in for some adjustments, assuming my bike shop is open (and I think that's a good assumption considering this is Black Friday). I'm getting a spoke replaced and a wheel trued, which runs $14.00. Since my cold started 2-1/2 weeks ago, I haven't ridden my bike at all, which means when I start up again after the repair it will be "starting over".

But "starting over" is a good thing. I've been riding my bike a lot during this last half of 2014, and I

The Black Knight

feel great because of the miles, so it's technically not starting over - it's actually just getting back on the bike after a short break. But I want to look at it as starting over anyway, because I like starting over. It makes me think I'm younger, for some reason - starting things rather than finishing things - and I guess only fellow elderly people would understand that.

I'm still confused as to what my goal should be, as far as cycling. Am I gonna form my lifestyle around cycling, by commuting and using the bike as my primary transportation? Or am I simply going to set a simple goal of riding 30 minutes a day as a fitness rider? Or am I just going to sit in my easy chair, get fat, and look through old cycling logs wondering what went wrong? LOL - Actually not the latter. I have the feeling that I'm going to be a "fitness" rider, which is great for my health. There will be times when I will long for the car-free or car-light lifestyle, and will probably lean in that direction. But, hey, I'm almost 62 years old now and I want to be lazy. If being lazy means being a "fitness" rider, I guess that's OK. The only thing that may force me into a car lite lifestyle would be if driving becomes too dangerous for me. But that's still up in the air.

See you on the bike!

The Blues of the Elderly Driver

Through my 40+ years of being a bicyclist, there have been a number of times that I've voluntarily given up driving a car and have used my bicycle as my primary transportation. These periods have always been the happiest times in my life, and I think it proves, at least for me, a tie between physical exercise and my ability to objectify life and enjoy it more. To "objectify" life simply means to have the ability to look at things as they are, as opposed to through "self pity" or "overdramatic" views.

When I can honestly look at things the way they are, I have no choice but to be happy, with the ideal family, health, career and religious pictures in my life. Anyone in my situation would have to be insane to not be happy. With exercise, at times when I have bicycled like a lunatic, it has been easier to be happy, to see life as it really is.

The times that I have commuted by bicycle are many:

• From when I graduated from high school in 1971 for about a year in the Denver area.
• When I lived in Tucson and Bisbee Arizona in the early to mid 1970s
• From 1978 to about 1981 during the White Poison Strike (I'll have to blog about the White Poison Strike some day lol)
• From 1984 to about 1986 in East El Paso
• After Bonnie and I got married, I bike commuted through the early 1990s when we lived in Denver
• After a long break, I did it for about 8 months in 2011 and 2012

There are probably quite a few more times that I've done it. But, I'm over 60 and my life has been long, and memory fades. But I would say a good estimate would be that over 2/3 of my adult years I depended on cycling as my primary transportation.

I think I'm reasonably comfortable with the idea of doing it again. If you've read my blogs over the past couple of years (I have around 150 or so dedicated readers – I don't know who they are, but I know they're there lol) you know I've thought seriously about going back to a car-free or car-light lifestyle again.

Something else has come up that may force the decision. Gradually, over the past 15 years or so, my driving ability has deteriorated. I'm not afraid to admit it – I'm a poor driver. I've discovered that I cannot process information as quickly as in the past. Traffic situations where I used to be able to make a split-second decision and go now give me trouble. I have to look at everything, think things through, make a decision, and proceed. Common traffic situations now confuse me. The result is that I drive more slowly, afraid to proceed at a normal speed. I discovered that driving the speed limit frequently frightens me.

Additionally, I'm having trouble with details. My mind wanders and I miss intersections where I was supposed to make a turn. Just this past Friday night, at about 11pm when I was driving downtown, I made a left-hand turn and came within inches of hitting a pedestrian. He had the walk signal, and was crossing within the crosswalk perfectly legally; I just didn't notice him. He had to jump back to avoid my car.

I see a lot of elderly people driving, and many of them drive slowly and unpredictably, and I think dangerously. What I see in my own driving echoes what I see in them. I have become the older person that blocks traffic because he is too frightened to go the speed limit. It's me. Damn.

Well, the happy thing is that if my driving deteriorates any further, I have an out. I have something in the wings that is within my comfort zone, that I have spent a good portion of my life doing already.

And that is, of course, using my bicycle and/or public transportation instead of a car. I could not possibly live in a more convenient location to do this. I live just a ten minute walk from the big Eastside bus terminal, which has an express bus leaving for downtown (where I work as a Greyhound Manager) every 14 minutes all day long. Additionally, the distance from home to work is only a little over 8 miles, which is well within my current bicycle riding range.

But there's a difference between going car-free because you have the option, and going car-free because you're getting too old and can no longer drive safely. That's hard to swallow.

I don't think I'm going to give up driving yet, but if my ability to drive deteriorates any further, I may have to just for safety sake.

It makes me feel sorry for the elderly people that continue to drive dangerously. Either they cannot admit to themselves that they have become poor drivers, or they actually don't realize it. Plus add in the fact that they may not have an out – bicycling – that I have. It's like being trapped.

The Bike or the Walker -- My Choice

At 61 years of age, of course, I ride my bicycle a lot slower than I used to. Additionally, I really have no desire to go faster. Just the act of getting out on the bike is a great accomplishment in itself. There was a graphic that was displayed at bikeforums dot net, where I am a Moderator, that said "No matter how slow you are, you're still lapping everyone on the couch". I guess that's true, and especially so as I age.

I know there's some others that are my age or so that can ride nearly as fast as they used to. Or that's what they say, anyway. I have a lot of friends at my church that ride bikes, too. Pastor Steve (who actually lives in Virginia now, but he's still Pastor Steve), Tony, Bryan, and a couple other guys ride. Sometimes they say "Hey, we should go out riding some time!" But I've seen them ride, and they are pretty fast – so I keep making excuses to not ride with them. I don't think they would enjoy riding at half their normal speed just to let an old feller keep up with them.

So, generally, I always ride my bike alone so I can go wherever I want at the usually slow speed I want. These other guys think I'm being unsociable, I guess, but that's not true – I'm just slow.

Part of getting used to being in your 60s is realizing that when a person is in their 60s, they look like they're in their 60s. A little part of my brain wants to believe I still look like I did when I was in my 30s or 40s, but I don't. As I have grown older, I've noticed that people respond to me differently even though I'm essentially the same person. Relatives (nieces and nephews especially) act quite a bit differently. People at church unconsciously snub me, because they want to be around the younger, cooler crowd. It must be appearance. If you look like you're in your 60s, people classify you in their minds as an "old person". In some respects that can be useful, but other times it can be hurtful.

In El Paso, which is a largely Hispanic community, looking elderly can be a good thing. The Hispanic culture puts a lot of respect on its elderly, and as I get greyer and more "wrinkly" I've noticed people, even strangers, are more respectful. I hear "sir" a lot and people downtown, even those that look like gangsters, hold doors open for me.

Church gets me a little upset. Inside, I'm not much different than they are. I have hopes, and dreams, and emotions. I look at the little "cliques" of friends and sometimes long to be part. But during the long 3+ years my wife and I have been part of that particular church, we have yet to have an invitation to someone's home for dinner, or out for a lunch after church, or something like that. I play acoustic guitar in the church band, and it's comical – After the service, I pack up my gear by myself, sit around, maybe say "hi" to a couple of people, then just leave. I have rarely been approached by an individual even for small talk. All the young people in the church are too busy being friendly to each other to engage me in conversation. During one "Sunday School" class just for men, I told them all of this, too. However, even though I brought it out into the open, no one has responded.

Bonnie has missed four church services in a row, and yet no one has asked about her, and no one has called her or attempted to contact her in any way.

There's virtually no difference in Bonnie and I now and Bonnie and I 20 years ago – except now we look "elderly". We are no longer "cool". I guess being "cool" is not the point. The point is that if I did not play acoustic guitar reasonably well, we would have no place at all in this church, either socially or otherwise.

And so it goes.

I’m still planning on starting cycling again on or right after December 1st. I figure it’s either the bike or the walker, my choice. I choose the bike.

Battle Mountain II -- Pictures

Yesterday I was reminiscing a little bit about Battle Mountain in Colorado, which was one of my favorite bicycle rides. It was a very challenging ride from both directions, but presented the most amazing views - both historical and natural. Since I posted that memory, I've been thinking about my Colorado mountain rides and the memories.

I never took pictures during these rides. They occurred long before "selfie" became an accepted term and I just didn't think about photography. But the internet is full of photographs of anything a person would desire to look at - and there's some pictures of Battle Mountain. These pics help me to remember the rides, and hopefully some of you can understand the haunting memories that can be borne of such enchanting places.

This is, of course, not me - but a good view of one of the climbs.

The very beginning of the Northbound climb, coming in from Leadville. I forgot the name of this bridge, but the steep ascent starts just to the left of the bridge. If you go to the right (South) there is a long, steady climb up over Tennessee pass into Leadville.

This rider is climbing up the incline just north of the bridge pictured above.

A view from the top of the mountain. The top has old mines scattered about, and very old homes that were built for the workers. It is enchanting to ride my bike on the highway, looking down on the old "ruins". 

Another look at one of the old mines.

This is steeper than it looks lol!

I guess, since I'm closing in on 62 years old, I'll never ride my bike over Battle Mountain again - or perhaps anywhere in my Colorado Rockies. That's ok. But I'll never lose the memories.

Ah, the Difference a Cold Makes

A week ago Monday (that would be November 10th) I caught a cold. I don't catch very many of them and I think it's because no one likes me and therefore I have very little human contact. Go ahead and avoid me, all you cool hip people that hang around other cool hip people - all that means to me is I don't get your diseases. Anyway, somehow a cold germ got to me - and it's been a week-and-a-half of feeling weak, coughing, sneezing, making excuses for myself and self-pity. That all sounds pretty good on its own. But add to that I can't ride my bike when I have a cold, and the joy of the sneeze turns into the - well, the un-joy of not riding.

When I was younger, I could ride through colds. I read in Bicycling Magazine that people with colds could continue to "train" (that's what Bicycling Mag calls it - "training" - you don't get to just go "ride") as long as they didn't have a fever. So, I would just keep riding.

But these days, if I try to ride during a cold, I effectively double the length of time I have the cold. This started happening when I was in my early 50s. So now, at 61+, I can only stare longingly at my bike sitting rusting and alone in the garage.

This is why I'm mean to people.

I don't actually hate people, but I have a purpose in being creatively mean. And that is to stay away from the dreaded cold germs.

"Wow, that diet you've been on really isn't working, is it?"

"You know you'd look a lot better without all that clown paint on your face"

 "I think you accidentally gave us the dog's food."

You get the point. When people come to my house to visit me and the wife, they hug and kiss on her and leave me alone in my easy chair and sheepishly wave at me. They think I don't like them, but I really do. I just don't want their dad burned cold germs.

I'm probably going to start riding again on Monday, December 1st.

Battle Mountain

Editor's Note: I had decided to start a new blog, but the rethought and decided to keep the current one. I copied the 7 new articles from there to here - and that's why this article sounds like a new blog is starting!

I have about a million other blogs I have started, lost interest in, and abandoned. I figured it's about time to start another blog to eventually lose interest in. But this time it's going to be a pretty honest representation of who I am, and not a picture portrait of what I'd like to look like to everyone else. Everyone has a self-image, and some pretty much have it nailed. Others, me included, are waaaaay off. When I'm out riding my bicycle, there's a vast difference in what people see - and what I think they see!

What I really look like, prolly

What I think I look like

But it's ok. It is what it is. I'm closing in on 62 years old now, and the realization that I am no longer 20 is a lot easier to swallow than I thought it would be. As old as 62 sounds to some people, to others (including me) it's really not that old. If one takes care of their body, by exercising and eating decently and having good genes and being surrounded by a family, there are a lot of quality years ahead for people my age.

But there are also a lot of creaks and groans in the morning.

Since I was a fresh-faced young teenager, I have enjoyed riding bicycles. From 1971 until 1978 I cycled everywhere and did not own a car. I used cheap bikes I could get for $20 or $30 at the local department stores (remember - it was the early 70s) and just rode them until they became dust under me. In the late 70s I lived in the Tucson and Bisbee Arizona areas, and continued to bike and walk everywhere. Finally in 1978 I moved to El Paso, Texas - my current home town - and bought my very first car.

I really didn't slow down that much as far as cycling, even though I had a car. From El Paso, back to Tuscon, over to Newnan Georgia for a short while, back to Denver, and eventually back here to El Paso, I owned a few cars indeed. But in that 40 year period, I accumulated over 60,000 miles of bicycling. I rode all the major passes in the Colorado Rockies, up all the front range steep canyons (Mt. Vernon was my favorite for some reason), across the naked desert around El Paso, up Mt. Lemmon in Tucson.

I stopped riding seriously in September of 2003, my heart blown to pieces by the tragic death of Ken Kifer. Over the next several years, I slowly got obese - Although I was eating like a cyclist, I was no longer cycling like a cyclist. In the summer of 2011, I realized what was happening and got back on the bike. (My weight loss story is here.)

If you happen to see an elderly gentleman out and about on his bicycle, riding slowly, smelling the roses and waving at the kids - it's probably me. That's what I do now. Every now and again, those fit looking skinny road cyclists pass me like I'm standing still. Occasionally one of them looks over his shoulder at me and sneers - Just an old fart out riding on a cheap bike - but it doesn't bother me. When was the last time he was at the top of Battle Mountain, when the snow was just starting to come down, 50 or so miles into a 75 mile loop that would end at Copper? The peace, the solitude, the feeling of dominance and freedom and silence is beyond description. That's my memory, buddy, and it's real - and I can only hope you get to have that feeling too.

Sneer all you want. You can't take Battle Mountain from my heart.