Dear Milton, Our Mother, Fair Milton, All Hail !

Dear, Milton, Our Mother, Fair Milton, All Hail!

The words above, while quite formal, speak eloquently to my feelings about this community in which I am privileged to live, work, and raise children and grandchildren. They are borrowed from the song, “Our Colors”, written about Milton College in 1911 by William C. Daland.

I reflect often about this community and its influence on me for the past 57 years. It has been incredibly positive for so many reasons. While we have our differences and don’t always see eye, we generally come around to be able to work for the common good.

Foremost in my mind today are two very recent issues of which I am being “nudged” to share my thoughts here. One is very general and very public. The other can be very general but is also very personal and, while a bit embarrassing, needs to be told for reasons which, I believe, will become obvious as you read on.

First the more general issue. I continue to be amazed by the absolutely phenomenal services we residents receive from our public works department. So obvious the past few days is the significant effort to clean up fallen leaves from our streets before major snowfall. Some years, this is unavoidable as we mere humans don’t control when the leaves fall or when the first major snowfall arrives. The resulting mess - frozen leaf-packed snowbanks on the edges of our yards next to the street is nasty. Kudos to Mark Langer and your outstanding staff that make all this work.

The more personal issue concerns my own behavior yesterday. I was driving west on East High Street, very prudently I thought. Recently, prodded by the new “radar signs” that display my speed, I have been concentrating on adhering closely to the 25 MPH limit on almost all our city streets. I understand this, agree with it, and most of the time comply. I believe that these regulations are not “just signs”, as I ‘ve heard some say, but are safety laws for the protection of us all. Many of you would not want to be behind me on the interstate as I set my cruise at the posted limit and then try to stay out of the way in the right lane. I can feel the impatience of many as they literally fly around me. Quite frankly, I feel the impatience from fellow citizens when I am driving 30 on Madison Ave. and 25 on our other streets. But, I digress.

Today, on my westward drive from my house on E. High St. to Hometown Ace, a police car appeared in my rearview mirror, and I felt I was being assessed. I checked my speed but that was okay. Sure enough, the red and blues illuminated, and I pulled over near the Cone Zone. An officer cautiously approached and very politely and professionally asked if I was feeling okay. I replied that I was. He then asked if there was a reason why I had not stopped at the stop sign by the high school and Rainbow Drive. I was flabbergasted as I didn’t even realize I had missed this stop. How many millions of times have I driven this street and always stopped? I hadn’t this day and didn’t even realize it. I do believe they call that “distracted” driving. My mind was elsewhere. I was embarrassed, felt foolish, and more as visions of what might possibly have happened because of my distractedness. Dwell on that thought a bit. We all need to.

I was given a verbal warning and urged to be alert and obey stop signs, especially in school zones during school time.

I was angry but only with myself. I applaud this officer, whose name I failed to get, who did his duty and apprehended me. And he did it in an incredibly professional manner. Chief Marquardt, I applaud you and your staff for all that you do to keep us safe.

Thank you to our city protectors. I am comforted knowing I am being protected (maybe from myself) by your diligence and service.

Next week we celebrate Thanksgiving Day. I am so grateful for this vivid reminder of the incredibly rich lives we enjoy in Milton, Our City.

Dear Milton, Our Mother, Fair Milton, All Hail!

#cruzan4milton#WEAREMILTON

Historic Grounds Create Community Grind

Last Christmas I was given a most interesting and unique gift – a subscription to Storyworth. What is Storyworth? A business that provides a writing prompt weekly. The idea is to write a short story and publish it on the Storyworth website where a group of people you select may read it. At the end of a year, all your stories are published in a very nice hard-bound book. It’s a great concept which I have enjoyed although I cannot keep pace with a weekly story. Also, in case you have failed to notice, I tend to be rather wordy in my writing where Storyworth seems to lend itself to shorter, more concise entries. I don’t believe there are rules about this but that is my take. My most recent prompt was, Am I a Regular at any Restaurant or Café? I published my story on Storyworth but felt an urge to broaden it out a bit and publish it in Espresso Shots where it would have more broad exposure. So here it is... 

I never thought about having a “regular” place that I considered mine until Sharla’s Coffee Stop came along. Of course, there were places I liked to go but nothing that approached my feelings about Sharla’s.

So, what is the attraction? Oh, so many things. . . to begin, the proprietors, Dave & Sharla, are wonderful people. I struck a bond with them quickly on the first day they opened.

The location is incredibly perfect for several reasons. Sharla’s is in Whitford Hall, one of the precious old buildings on the Historic Milton College Campus. The rooms they occupy were formerly the college and community library. The walls, windows, wainscoting, and flooring are all original. The history is palpable as you sit and savor great espresso-based beverages, freshly baked scones, muffins, cinnamon rolls, and breads. Even more, there are a variety of beverage offerings for those non-coffee drinkers.

I should mention that Sharla’s is a mere 250 steps from my driveway. My home office window has a perfect view of their great patio. Additionally, Sue and I have significant ties to Milton College for a host of reasons – the place is in our bones. A great coffee shop just seems “right.”

Our phenomenal city, Milton, has no other small business like this. In fact, Sharla’s is the only “true” coffee shop with a 10-mile radius. Sharla’s has become a gathering place not only for those who live in my “home base” - the Milton College Historic Neighborhood, but also for the city and the broader area. The atmosphere at Sharla’s embodies neighborhood and community.

Milton schools and all those Rising Red Hawk students are very important to me. Dave and Sharla have embraced Milton High School’s, School to Career program, and hire many of our high school students. I so enjoy becoming acquainted with them and observing as they grow and learn about “adult world” working skills. Many have become friends. I know their names and they know mine along with my favorite coffee beverage when I walk in the door. We recognize and greet each other when our paths happen to cross at other events. I have become acquainted with their parents. Some have graduated and moved on but there is the occasional connection. OPPORTUNITY, ACHIEVMENT, COMMUNITY – a perfect example.

When I go to Sharla’s (some accuse me of living or having an office there) I encounter so many people whom I know from across the community and region. It’s the greatest location for a “meet-up” and serves so well the “work” that I do.  To me, Milton is like my garden. It requires planting, cultivating, watering, pruning, fertilizing - just like a garden. Sharla’s is the perfect place to do that.

Katie & Eric own the building. They and their family live in the top floor and operate a Cross Fit studio on the ground floor. They are good neighbors and great people. I love running into them there. Eric is on the City Council, so I get a chance to bend his ear a bit about our community. I see local shop owners there, Kate & Kelly, and many others. I see the library staff, Ashlee, Jayme, and their gang stopping in. I see Amber, Bill, and author Jim, from the neighborhood. I see Jessica, Ryan and many others from the school district, Keaton from the Historical Society, Doug from the Milton College Preservation Society, friends from my Mercy days, my spiritual coaches (I need many) Pastor Liz & Pastor Nate, and high school classmates. Sharla's has hosted community meetings, piano & voice recitals, high school study groups, knitting clubs, MOFIA – my men's Bible study group (you're welcome to join us at 6:30 a.m. every Wednesday), yoga, personal counseling, mutual support, and much more – the “stuff” of life as it were. I often encounter city council and school board members there.  True neighborhood and community building in action.

If you haven’t visited Sharla’s, you are missing so many good things that make and foster our community.

#cruzan4milton#WEAREMILTON

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dale, Charlotte, and The Rose

 Reflections on Dale and Charlotte’s Wedding

Sue and I were privileged to attend Dale and Charlotte’s lovely marriage ceremony late Sabbath afternoon on October 8, 2022. The setting was the intimate, semicircular, sanctuary of the LaGrange United Methodist Church.

The size, arrangement, and decoration of this room evoked emotional memories of my childhood and churches of which I was a member or had visited. Seeing Dale & Charlotte’s obvious happiness, and the same from the members of Dale’s and Charlotte’s families attending, added to my contented sense of peace. A talented pianist provided quiet selections as we were seated.

Sue and I were enjoying all of this in the pew directly behind Dale’s adult granddaughter, Emily and her parents, Pastor Matt and Ellen. I am not well acquainted with Emily having never spent much time around her, but I admire her evocative, demonstrative nature. Thus, I was most interested to observe her when the pianist began the song, The Rose. I perked-up immediately when I recognized the song and so did Emily – I could see and nearly feel the emotion of it flowing through her facial expresses and her entire body. I hadn’t thought of this great song being used at a wedding, so my mind was working on the words, trying to call them back. I was not entirely successful, so I looked up the lyrics.

THE ROSE

By songwriter – Amanda Mcbroom

Some say love, it is a river

That drowns the tender reed

Some say love, it is a razor

That leaves your soul to bleed

Some say love, it is a hunger

An endless aching need

I say love, it is a flower

And you, its only seed

It’s the heart afraid of breaking

That never learns to dance

It’s the dream afraid of waking

That never takes the chance

It’s the one who won’t be taking

Who cannot seem to give

And the soul afraid of dying

That never seems to live.

 

Just remember in the winter

Far beneath the bitter snows

Lies the seed that with the sun’s love

In the spring becomes the rose.

Thank you, Emily, for the boost & nudge you gave me to reflect on this. Oh, to be able to write well! There are layers and layers of meaning here which I will leave for any of you to interpret for yourselves should you choose to do so. For me, these words so speak to Dale and the benign, loving, sincere person that is the Dale Green that I know. Barb also speaks to me through this song in a most comforting and blessing way

The ceremony itself was perfect. The happiness and good feeling in the room was palpable. This feeling continued at the lovely dinner that followed. A sense of family, of love, of life descended on me, and I can only say, it is, indeed, Well With My Soul.

Dale & Charlotte, congratulations and all the best as you begin this journey together.

 

Jon Cruzan – October 9, 2022

 

 

 

Once Upon the Wasatch

Sue and I are blessed to have four wonderful grandsons, two Sykora boys and two Murphy boys, living in our community. It has been our privilege to be active in their lives since their births. Thus, we are very comfortable with them and they with us. As they reached an appropriate age, we have made a practice of taking these boys on a vacation trip each year. We determined early on that the best pairing for these trips was cousins vs. brothers so one year it was TJ and Ivan and then the next year Emmit and Gus. Covid threw a wrench for a couple of years, but we returned to the rotation this August.

We began planning early in the year so, as it was TJ and Ivan’s year, we asked what they might like to do. Even though they live on the prairies of southern Wisconsin they fancy themselves mountain bikers. They have both built some “trails” on their respective homesteads. So, they wanted to go mountain biking and zeroed-in on southern Utah and Colorado. They had read about Moab and other similar locations so that’s where their heads were.

At this point I should insert that both boys, now nearly 13 and nearly 17, are good competent bikers. They have biked with Sue and I since they were quite young so know how to handle a bike and be comfortable riding. They are both athletes and are very fit. So, what’s the dilemma? Sue and I are road bikers with basically no interest or expertise in mountain biking nor do we have their fitness level (we are a tad older than they). How could we possibly make this work and feel safe for everyone concerned?

I have a youngish nephew in the Salt Lake City area. I knew he is an experienced mountain biker and rides often. I also knew he was familiar with the southern Utah/Colorado area. So, using the resources at my disposal, I reached out to this young man and asked his advice about the Moab area. He replied immediately that it would be beastly hot there in the summer, packed with people, and the trails were likely far more technical than those for which the boys, and certainly us were prepared for or capable of riding. Well, I was glad to know this, but it was a bit of a bummer until I read the next sentence in my nephew’s e-mail.

He strongly suggested that Park City – just 30 minutes from Salt Lake City – had many, many trails with which he was intimately familiar, beautiful mountains and much else to attract vacationers. But that’s just the introduction. He went on to say that if we did travel there, he would guide TJ and Ivan on the trails. And he even had a couple of bikes we might borrow if they sized-up correctly. While I still had some doubts and misgivings, this proposal seemed too good to pass up so set the dates and made the plans.

If you have tried to schedule two young athletes from two different families to leave town during the summer swim, baseball, camping season, you understand that challenge. However, that could be a blog on its own, so I won’t deal with that here. Suffice it to say we were able to squeak out 6 days – two of which would be flying time.

Off we went. I must add that this was the first time flying for TJ and Ivan and basically their first long major trip. It was so much fun watching their excitement and wide eyes at everything new they were experiencing. We had a very long first day of travel and didn’t arrive at Snow Blaze – our Air B & B – in Park City until 10 p.m. The accommodations turned out to be perfect for us and, as we discovered the next day, located most conveniently. We all collapsed in bed.

The following morning – our first day there – everyone was moving slow in the morning. I talked to my nephew on the phone, and we decided to not start the biking thing until the next day to give us time to replenish and acclimate at bit. We could see snow covered mountains from our windows and found it incredibly beautiful and glorious when we headed outside. We did the typical eating and shopping while gasping and exclaiming over the beauty of God’s nature we were experiencing firsthand. Checked out some bike shops and made rental arrangements for the next day.

My nephew drove up with full bike racks the next morning. He and I, with TJ and Ivan set out to try this mountain biking thing in the actual mountains. The grandeur is a challenge to describe – simply incredible. We pedaled gravel roads, dirt roads and then down hill mountain biking trails. The boys were in seventh heaven. I discovered that I enjoyed the gravel and dirt roads but didn’t really care for the downhill actual trail riding. Too many rocks, stumps, branches, berms, and all that mountain biking really is. In addition, the climbing and the altitude was kicking my butt. At one of our stoppings, I suggested to my nephew that, if he could direct me back, I would do that alone and he and the boys could continue riding – they were champing at the bit to get back at it. They went on and I headed back to Park City. I did arrive successfully but was beat – clocking 19 miles in that altitude and challenging climbs on a bike very different from my road buddy, Double Shot. The other three pedaled around quite a bit longer.

As in most experiences, I learned a lot. I discovered what mountain biking really was and why these two boys really liked it. We now had a common language and experience that drew us closer together and, for me, the light went on about this sport and all the things they had been talking about which I hadn’t really understood. This alone would have made the trip worthwhile, but it became so much more.

The boys could not stop talking about the biking they experienced that day. Never in their wildest imaginations could they have conjured the beauty, the trails, everything about being in this beautiful place.

I was concerned because I was sure my nephew had given us all the time he had available – nearly a full day. I knew that I could not duplicate the experience or even come close because I was not familiar with the trails, didn’t have the skill level to bike with boys, and would not have turned them loose by themselves.

And then the unexpected miracle occurred. My nephew gave these boys three more nearly full days (four total). He planned and participated in rides on a variety of trails and skill sets each day. Sue and I would help transport the bikes to the various trial heads and they would take off. Sue and I would then explore on our own by car or foot and plan to rendezvous with them at their ending point three of four hours later. Absolutely incredible.

Let me tell you about this nephew. I have been acquainted with him most of his life, but we never lived near each other, so we didn’t’ really know each other well. Sue and I attended his wedding three years ago in Salt Lake City and are sharing he and Emily’s joy on the arrival of their first child in the next few weeks. We enjoyed a great dinner out with them on this trip.

Those of you who are well acquainted with me realize that, after a forty-year career in corporate human resources, I am a student of human behavior and am always subtly observing it. Let me share my observations of my nephew on this trip.

This amazing young man is an Associate Professor of Geology and Geophysics at the University of Utah. He is intelligent, vibrant, clearly engaged in his field of study and his students. He has participated in and/or led domestic and world-wide field studies with his students. He is well-read and is an excellent writer. He is anticipating fatherhood with great excitement.

I am so impressed after watching him with TJ and Ivan. On their first ride I could tell he was assessing their skills and abilities to determine where he could take them and how to ensure their safety. He did this unobtrusively. I don’t think they had a clue that this was what he was doing. He jumped in enthusiastically with them – he may well have been having as much or more fun than they were. He took great photos and videos of them. He talked their language and was instructional. I would love to observe this man in his college classroom – his students must be so taken with him. I liken TJ’s and Ivan’s biking experience with him to a semester abroad. They were immersed in mountain biking – an experience they will not soon forget if ever.

As I ponder the lessons of this trip for me, Sue, and the boys, I return again and again to the incredible generosity and love shown to us by this man. I had hoped for a couple of hours. He gave us the best part of four days. In the book, Walden, Henry David Thoreau states, “To affect the quality of the day – that is the highest of arts.” Peter Cruzan Lippert, you so positively affected the quality of our days in Park City. We thank you with our entire being.

Life Lessons at Rockport Pool

Today I received a totally unexpected shot of insight and inspiration. This occurred at 7 a.m. and, of all places for me, at a swimming pool. I can swim a bit but not well, so I am not really a water person.

However, this morning I was privileged to drive grandsons Emmit and TJ to their daily swim workout at Janesville’s beautiful Rockport Pool. They are part of the J-Hawk Aquatic team and are practicing at Rockport this summer. The team covers a wide age range, so the pool was full of young athletes. While the boys prepared themselves, I set up shop at an umbrella covered picnic table. I had my book, my notebook, a good Parker pen, and a thermos of coffee made at home with Dave’s Power Blend beans from Sharla’s. My thermos was a great insulated bottle given to me by my friend, Melissa. It is embossed with the Bible verse Joshua 1:9 – “Be strong and of good courage. Be not afraid neither be thou dismayed for the Lord thy God is with thee withersoever thou goest,”

As I savored my coffee and perused the scene, I was awe stricken by a pool filled with young people (kids, as it were) enthusiastically swimming regimented laps in a variety of strokes. Every lane was full. Those kids were working hard but they were having fun. Yes, there was complaining but there was also much good- hearted repartee. So apparent was the hard work, the enthusiasm, the dedication, the discipline – all resulting in excellence. Little in life comes to us without developing these qualities. AND, for these kids, all of this at 7 a.m. on a Monday morning.

I was nearly overwhelmed with observing their lean, lithe, muscled bodies, their beautiful execution of strokes I cannot possibly do, their fitness level of being able to swim lap after lap while I lifted a cup of coffee a few times. They had accomplished more physical effort by 8:30 Monday morning than many of us will complete in a week.

My mind took me to some thoughts from author, Stephen Covey, who, in one of his books, discusses the concept of small private victories every day. I have found this to be a powerful motivator for me. I will not expound on it here but just consider what these kids could check off their lists by 8:30 on a Monday morning. What a start on the day and the week!

These reflections are not limited to swimming. They could be applied to any initiative in our lives. They are about small private victories that require us to be strong and courageous. I can’t do everything, but I can do something, i.e., get up a bit earlier, take a walk around the block or to the end of the driveway, do those stretches, cull those files, compose that draft, send someone a note, weed that flower bed.

Just imagine how fulfilled these kids must feel at the close of pool time. Yes, they would be tired but a contented, satisfied tired. I could hear their animation, their energy as it was spilling over onto me. It was 8:30 on Monday morning and they had accomplished so much already, more than many of us will accomplish the entire week.

So, this morning I was inspired and struck to my core about issues in my life. I don’t believe in coincidences. God put me at that pool early this morning for a reason. He gave me those kids to wake me up and inspire me. Thank you, J-Hawk swimmers, for the lesson you gave to me today.

Double Shot and Me - The Denouement of My Spring Biking - 2002

I believe I first heard the word, denouement, while sitting in a ninth-grade English class at Babcock Junior High School in Westerly, Rhode Island. This was probably 1964 or 65-ish. If you do the math, you realize that this was 58 years ago so my memory may be a bit off. My recollection is that we were reading, A Tale of Two Cities. Denouement was one of our selected vocabulary words. While I don't believe I have ever used the word in any writing or exposition since then, for some reason, it has always stuck with me. In case your memories are rusty, denouement means the outcome of a complex sequence of events. It is usually applied to literature, drama, and that sort of thing. I am applying it here to biking and me.

It’s early June 2022. March, April, May, & now June have been a watershed for me in returning to biking. In case, “watershed” is not in your routine vocabulary, I am using it here as an event or period marking a turning point in a course of action or state of affairs.

Spring has been remarkably good to me – good enough that I wanted to capture some of my thoughts about it. Leaving out the boring details, I have experienced some significant health issues over the past twelve months. These issues forced me to drastically reduce my physical exercise as, simply, I was unable to do it. As part of my recovery, I had targeted this spring as a turning point for my lagging biking. Due to a very chilly March & April my start-up lagged. I did get started but it seemed abysmally slow. Finally, May arrived and, with it, weather that I felt was more appropriate for biking – my favorite and seemingly easiest exercise for me.

I took my bike, Double Shot, down from the hooks in the garage on March 20 for my first ride in months and months. While Double Shot was happy to be out and about, he was barely communicating with me due to my neglect. I only managed two rides in March totaling a measly five miles. While this was progress, I was hoping to ride every two or three days, but the weather and my strength did not cooperate. In April I managed two rides for a whopping twenty-six miles. Again, progress, but not what I had envisioned. Then May came along and I was able to log ten rides totaling 172 miles. While certainly not fast biking, I was able to maintain an 11.5 mph average for which I was pleased. On June 2, I met one of my goals, making it all the way to the Capputan coffee shop just on the other side of downtown Ft. Atkinson. My round trip totaled thirty-two miles.

My biking legs are back, my derriere is reconditioned to Double Shot's seat and Double Shot is speaking to me again. Additionally, my health challenges are, for the most part, behaving. I'm focused on recording my blood pressure and weight twice a day, so I have noted a side benefit to this activity. My weight has gone from 194 on January 4 to 173 on May 31. My weight does move around a bit, but the reduction is another accomplishment. This investment of 53 hours biking time has earned me improved conditioning, needed weight loss, reacquaintance with some great biking routes, and a sense of accomplishment which produces a better outlook on life in general. Let's not forget that Double Shot and I are speaking again.

In my mind, especially at my age, biking provides a keen awareness of temperature, wind, and the absolute power of God in creating the glory of nature. A couple of days ago, as I was cranking along a nice flat part of the trail just north of Bower's Lake Road, I noticed a very large bird running down the trail about fifty yards ahead of me. I was clipping along about 15 mph, but that bird maintained its lead. It finally flew off across the highway. This turkey actually looked more graceful running than it did flying. I had no idea a turkey could move that fast. On last Thursday’s ride I encountered a deer. It was just on the other side of the mesh fence which is parallel to the trail but between the trail and the highway. This poor deer was frantically running ahead of me but continued to try to break through the fence which, of course, was not successful. It finally headed up the steep bank and safely crossed the highway. Sunrises are particularly nice to observe while biking, but head winds are a bane. Recently, a small bird, perhaps a red winged blackbird buzzed my head. I must have been too close to its nesting territory. I didn't see it coming but certainly heard the strange noise it made as it neared me. I was moving along quickly enough that it left me alone – probably went home and bragged about chasing a biker away. The plant life is also interesting to watch. Milk weeds are beginning to bloom, and, in some places, there is a plethora of garlic mustard. I haven't seen wild parsnip yet, but I also know there are areas where it hangs out. You want to give it a wide berth as the burns and blisters it causes are nasty.

I think most of my acquaintances would characterize me as quite friendly. A couple of days ago, I was pedaling north on Potawatomi Trail toward Lake Koshkonong. This is a nice road to bike with little traffic, great scenery and often wildlife. As I passed a large field, I saw a man in the middle of the field waving vigorously to me. Trying to convince people that bikers are great, friendly people, I actively returned his waves. As I pedaled past, my sight angle improved, and I realized that I was waving at a scarecrow. I was convinced for a bit that he was real, but it was just his long sleeves flapping in the wind. Oh well, I am an aging baby boomer so maybe that provides an excuse. Isn’t life like that - something not real (this could be so many things in life) attracts our attention, and we are immediately convinced that our interest is good, productive, and right but in reality, it is illusory. We wake up and realize we have been duped by our own human thoughts, actions, and interests. This encounter was pretty harmless compared with many of the illusions we conjure as we pass through this life.

Another great life lesson was my recent flat tire. I had pedaled from Milton and had just reached the edge of downtown Ft. Atkinson across from NASCO when I encountered a fairly large bump and my rear tire immediately deflated. Bummer! In the old days I would have changed this out there on the bike trail, but I don’t do that anymore, especially on the rear wheel. Luckily, dahliagirl (Sue) was able to come get me, and I was in an easy place to be found. I took Double Shot to Bicyclewise – my bike whisperer in Whitewater. I was convinced that I had the flat because of the big bump, but it turned out to be a tiny, barely perceptible shard of glass. Who would think this tiny speck could penetrate a sound tire and tube and deflate it that rapidly? It seems that this also happens in our lives. Our missteps and poor judgements are often not huge transgressions but are those little shards that we allow to penetrate and contaminate our lives. Our lack of discernment and thoughtlessness convince us our acts and words were relatively harmless, but they turned out to inflict significant damage to ourselves and maybe others.

Double Shot has also turned out to be an instructor in life lessons. He is a Giant ANYROAD and is the perfect bike for someone of my age and fitness level. He is very stable and, basically, a road bike, but with broader tires than most true road bikes. This allows me to easily ride on unpaved, gravel bike trails when I encounter them. With a true road bike with very thin tires, this is a bit tricky. Double Shot is equipped with three front sprockets and nine rear sprockets. This translates to twenty-seven different gearing ratios. Here’s the question – How many of those gears do you think I use most of the time? Well, the answer is about three. This is not because I am such a fitness specimen but relates more to my stupidity and not thinking about using the tools that are at my disposal. Good grief. Even though I know this and ponder it, I seldom change my routine and behavior. Isn’t this also just like life. God has equipped each of with unique gifts and strengths. Do we know what they are? Are we using them regularly to make life easier and better for those with whom we are in community? Or do we just muddle along in our old routines and habits and wonder why life is so tough?

So, my spring biking denouement and watershed is complicated but also, on reflection, simple in many other ways. Certainly, life’s trail changes and challenges us. “Weather” conditions arise to influence our daily decisions. In my opinion, seeking God’s guidance is a wise thing to do. I do not believe that God will solve my problems, but I do believe that if I seek and then listen, he will guide me back to the strengths and gifts he gave me and then, to either lean-in and use those gifts or do nothing and wonder why things don’t change. God couldn’t ride my bike for me, but I believe that he did influence me to summon the gumption he gave me and get it done. Isn’t it amazing - the things on which we reflect, from the seat of a bicycle?

 Life is good. #Gobybike

 

 

 

Pedaling Into April

Today is April Fool’s Day. It was sunny but quite cold when I heaved myself out of bed this morning. I had scheduled a morning of meetings so after a bite to eat and some coffee at home I hoofed it over to Sharla’s Coffee Stop to make my connections. Jenna and Sharla provided their usual outstanding service and the nitro cold brew with a bit of half & half was outstanding. Spiritual and life coach #1, Pastor Nate, just happened to be there working on his Doctor of Ministry assignments so we had to have a brief chat while Jenna prepared my nitro.

Rich was my first meet-up. He and I have known each other for several years and have worked together in a variety of capacities. We connect on a number of levels, and he provides great perspective for some of the meanderings of my mind. Our conversation today was most productive, and the synapses were jumping when we finished.

Meet-up number two was Pastor Liz, the other of my two spiritual and life coaches. We covered an entirely different gamut of mind meanderings than did Rich and I. So grateful to have people like this in my life.

By then, as Mabel (my mother) would have said, “The morning was fast going away.” As I walked the 250 steps home, I discovered that, if I dressed appropriately, it was probably warm enough for a foray by bike. (I am not a cold weather biker – too much of a wuss!) I did a quick weather check on my phone and decided to go for it.

Donned the appropriate garb, filled the water bottle, and headed to the garage. Double Shot heard me coming but assumed it was just another false alarm, so I surprised him by taking him down from the hooks. I then proceeded to ensure that everything was working and ready to go. Then it was East on High Street, North on Sunnyside, and then East on Storrs Lake Road to access the Glacial River Trail. Just a mile from my driveway to this point. Then I headed north but hadn’t landed on a goal as I was not at all sure how I would feel.

Well, Double Shot was working amazingly well. He had recently experienced a tune-up and, boy, could I tell. No superfluous noises (other than my breathing and the creaks of my body) no wobbling, shifting and gearing working like a charm. I was clipping along much better than I had hoped and a big part of this was Double Shot’s wonderful condition. I was so pleased but not really shocked at this. My bike dealings are 99.9% exclusively at Bicyclewise in Whitewater. John and Liz are small business owners and are phenomenal human beings. John, and Liz as well, have forgotten more about bikes than I will ever know. I am so comfortable with their knowledge and the way I have always been treated there. I refer to John as the Bike Whisperer. I wish I could get a similar tune-up for my body. I highly recommend them for any of your bicycle needs.

The trail is flat from Storrs Lake Road to Bowers Lake Road. I arrived there feeling good but knew there was an immediate uphill on the north side of Bowers Lake Road. You must begin this ascent from a stop due to the road. I was pleasantly surprised to find the uphill far easier than I had expected it to be. I then realized I could gear-up a bit, make better time and experience a better work-out.

This good feeling continued as I passed the Klug Road Cul-de-Sac and started the ascent just beyond. The ride was going so much better than I expected. Some type of topcoat was added to the Otter Creek Bridge since last season. There is more of a “bump” as you get on the bridge than I would like. Not a huge problem but certainly a bigger bump than I expected. I’m tempted to take some yellow or orange paint and highlight that line but that might be considered vandalism.

After the bridge, the trail heads uphill again to County N. That went well for me also. The fast and usually heavy traffic on N necessitates a stop there. I discovered that I was out of practice unclipping and swinging my leg over the bike to step down. This, of course, has NOTHING to do with age or physical conditioning. It’s about 4.5 miles from my driveway to this spot.

I was feeling good enough that I decided to continue my northward pedaling. The trail on the north side of N is flat with a gradual descent. Of course, the reverse is a gradual ascent. This is important to know for the return trip as is the fact that the most strenuous portion of the trail heading back to Milton is from County N to Bowers Lake Road.

I began to think that I might ride to my 10-mile point before reversing and then I could “book” a 20-miler as my first outing of the year. Remembering my cautions in the previous paragraph, I decided that would not be wise and instead chose the covered bridge as my goal.

The covered bridge is about six miles out. I dismounted to stretch my back a bit before heading south to Milton. My return trip also went well despite it being somewhat up hill all the way. A delightful surprise was encountering Dahliagirl on her new E-Bike as I headed down the hill to the Klug Road “circle.” This was her first ride on this machine, and she was enjoying it. We rode together the rest of the way home. I even made it up the High Street hill to my driveway.

So, feeling very righteous this evening sitting in front of a nice fireplace fire. Just over thirteen miles and feeling pretty good. Overall, a great Friday and beginning of a new month.

#cruzan4milton#GoByBike