The ‘I’ is for Indoor, as in Indoor Cycling, and my attitude about it is expressed in the title. And ok, it is also a kind of tortured word play on a form employers must have on file for each employee to prove they are eligible to work in the U.S. Cut me some slack, I’ve been so busy working my writing skills have gone into hibernation.

The nuts are almost all counted, but with today’s storm neither nut counting or cycling outside is possible. So for the eighth time this walnut season, I resorted to spending 30 minutes of self inflicted misery on my indoor trainer set up. Which is usually not ‘set up’. I only mounted the Sampson to the trainer at the beginning of the season, and I’ll be taking her (all my bikes choose female pronouns) off as soon as we finish.

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On the left you can see the effect of walnut counting on my cycling. In a typical non-walnut counting month I do around 600 miles and spend at least 40 hours in the saddle. For the last month I have done only 4 road rides, all from home and completely flat except for the occasional freeway overpass. And I supplemented this with those aforementioned eight 30 minute trainer workouts. I give myself credit for 9 miles for each effort, since I am working hard enough that if I did the same thing outside I’d be doing about 18 mph.

I have heard that if one stops doing cardio workouts altogether it only takes two weeks to start losing a lot of fitness. I’m not sure if that is true, but I don’t want to test the theory by taking all of walnut season off. So I got up really early and hit the garage around 5 am for 30 minutes of fun. I think I did enough this year so that my heart will remember what it is supposed to do when I get back on the road.

San Francisco’s Mayor has plenty of both.

“My drink was sitting at the table. I got up and started dancing because I was feeling the spirit and I wasn’t thinking about a mask,” Breed explained. “I was thinking about having a good time and in the process I was following the health orders.”

San Francisco’s mask ordinance states “Everyone, including people who are fully vaccinated, must wear a well-fitted mask in indoor public settings at all times,” and adds, “people may remove their well-fitted mask while actively eating or drinking.”

Dancing and singing are not “actively eating or drinking”. But the mayor goes on to clarity how much she believes in her own mandate.

Breed added, she and fellow club-goers “don’t need the fun police to come in and micromanage and tell us what we should or shouldn’t be doing.”

The mayor of one of the most heavily regulated panicdemic municipalities in the nation says she and her fellow party-goers don’t need to be ‘micromanaged’! She sounds like the Governor of Texas!

Good, now we are clear. San Francisco will not enforce its own order with ‘fun police’. I hope every church in The City will tell its parishioners that they can remove their masks to make a joyful noise unto the Lord. You have the mayors permission, as long as you ‘feel the spirit!’

Stoker and I consume wine, and since we have ridden many tandem miles on the ‘Route Touristique des Cotes du Rhone’ we have an affinity for bottles from this region. And our local Raley’s in Morada has quite a selection. But their inventory is no match for our moderate, but daily, consumption.

So I went to the Raley’s in Lodi and found many our our favorites in stock, but after a few trips I cleaned out that store too.

Yesterday I went to Elk Grove for an abdominal ultrasound. I do this every six months, and someday I may write a blog as to why. The results were normal, as they have been for the last decade.

On the drive home I decided to stop at the Raley’s in Galt, and sure enough the shelf of Cote du Rhone vin rouge was well stocked. I bought a couple of cases to take home.

Now I suppose you could call me both a ‘mask denier’ and a ‘mask complier’. I don’t think that the cloth masks or light paper masks that most of us wear are very effective at doing anything but making us uncomfortable and irritated. The University of Waterloo in England found that the paper masks you purchase in drug stores only block 12% of virus particles, and cloth masks are even worse at 10%. N95 medical masks are better at something over 60%. That is what the study found; don’t blame me.

But I am also a mask complier. I follow the rules without argument and without much complaint. And certainly without any confrontations. Mask up for 22 hours in airports and on flights to get to France? Ok! It is so nice you allow me to remove it to enjoy the wonderful food and beverage service in Air France Business Class. Americans eat their meals way too fast for good digestion, and the ‘masks allowed off while dining’ rule is a real incentive to rectify that.

The sign outside the Raley’s stores in both Morada and Lodi says “Masks are optional for fully vaccinated individuals”. That would be me, so I go around shopping maskless.

But the Raley’s in Galt has a sign saying “Masks required for all shoppers while inside the store”. So I put mine on without complaint. Yesterday compliance was pretty high, but there were about 10% of shoppers who were bare faced. I was irritated by this. Why do I have to follow the rules and not them? Why doesn’t someone from the store enforce the mandate?

It is about 15 miles from the Raley’s in Galt to the ones in Lodi and Morada. Why is the policy different? I know the answer, different counties and jurisdictions. But is there any logic to the difference? Especially in light of that aforementioned study.

Our politicians like to make rules for us, but they are not so good at following them. Here is the latest:

San Francisco’s mask mandate states, “Everyone, including people who are fully vaccinated, must wear a well-fitted mask in indoor public settings at all times,” and adds, “people may remove their well-fitted mask while actively eating or drinking.”

Mayor London Breed was seen partying and singing maskless in a nightclub with a Black Lives Matter co-founder, breaking her city’s mask mandate.

Pelosi, Newsom, Breed, the list of unmasked hypocrite dictators is long. They don’t seem to be worried about being unmasked. Are they not ‘following the science’? Or are masks only for the unwashed masses, not the political and economic elite?

Why can we just admit that masks don’t work, and if you want to wear one to ‘protect’ yourself, go ahead. I don’t understand why I have to wear one to protect someone who is afraid of unmasked people. If vaccines work, and if you think masks work, then get vaccinated and cover your face and you will be fine, whatever I do. If they don’t work, then why are we being pressured to do both?

And before you start to argue with me about being a Trump supporting anti vax-er, remember I got my shots as soon as I could, thinking I would need them to get to travel to France. I was right about that. And I’m following the silly mask rules because I don’t want to be seen as anti social or irresponsible or get into any unnecessary confrontations. So I’m a complying denier, or a denying complier.

The erosion of freedoms and watching the executive branch of government assume powers it does not constitutionally have certainly concern me. But I think the right to purchase and consume Cote du Rhone vin rouge will still be around, for a while at least. When that goes, I’ll join the revolution.

I have had some wonderful experiences with bike shops and their mechanics. I have also had some horrendous experiences with bike shops and their mechanics. The absolute worst was when a mechanic replaced the FSA bottom brackets on our tandem with a low end Shimano version. Not only were they cheap but they were the wrong size, which the ‘mechanic’ solved by simply eliminating the wave spring (an integral part of the FSA system) and jamming the crank directly against the bearings under way too much pressure. Not only did this result in more difficult pedaling, but it put stress on the bearings and after about a year they were worn out again.

I think it was Joe Artozqui who introduced me to Optimized Cycling Solutions. He showed me the website and said this might be something I was interested in. Joe was right, I was intrigued.

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OCS was a bicycle studio located in El Dorado Hills and the proprietor/entrepreneur/mechanic/perfectionist was named Mark Stemmey.

I took my LOOK 586 to Mark for his signature service which he terms an “optimization’. Every part of the bike is cleaned, disassembled if appropriate, inspected closely, and adjusted for maximum efficiency and safety. He provides an extensive evaluation (with photos) of the bicycle’s condition and possible areas of concern for the present and down the road. I liked the results so much that I later took my Sampson there for a ‘major tune up’ and the CoMotion was treated to a full optimization. The results, especially for the tandem, were significant. My bikes all worked better than ever and I was really happy.

I followed Mark and OCS from El Dorado Hills to a nice space near downtown Sacramento, which was much more convenient. But after a couple of years he closed. I know his business concept was a difficult one to execute. He charged more for services than a local shop, but he also paid far more attention to little details. But not everyone is willing to pay for the difference.

While I was in the Pyrenees, Diane got a phone call, and when she said “Hello'”she was kind of surprised to hear the voice on the other end say “Is this Stoker?” It was Mark. He was calling to tell me he was back in business, this time as a mobile mechanic who comes to you. When I got home I contacted him and decided that my S Works Tarmac with the HED Ardennes wheels could use a little OCS TLC. The bike seemed to be working fine but I wanted Mark to do the wheel optimization and give the rest of the bike an extensive tune up.

He came to my house and picked up the HED’s, which he took home to do the wheel service. He came back about a week later and spent over 4 hours cleaning and inspecting and adjusting. Adding the time he took to do the wheels, the Tarmac received well over 5 hours of expert attention.

When I took the bike on the club ride out of Wallace there were a couple of things I noticed right away. The headset had been way too tight. After Mark adjusted it the bike was easier to steer climbing at slow speed. And before he worked on the rear wheel, I would occasionally hear a kind of pinging noise, especially when I was pedaling hard or climbing. I thought it might be the spokes, but the wheel seemed true. But Mark found the spoke tension was very uneven, and he adjusted them until they were much more uniform. On Thursday the intermittent slight noise from the rear wheel was gone.

I’m not the only fan of Mark’s wheel service. Years ago I recommended Mark to a friend who took a set of Zipp wheels to him for the same ‘optimization’. This friend moved out of the area, but I saw him a couple of years later on a European trip, and he told me that the wheels were still perfect and he hadn’t touched them since the service. He was impressed.

I hope Mark keeps doing this kind of thing. I know if he does and I ever get another nice set of wheels, I’m going have him ‘optimize’ them.

Sometimes cycling can be a treasure hunt. Over the years along side of the road I’ve found cash, assorted tools (including two very nice Leatherman multi tools worth about $55 new) and the occasional adult novelty item. I leave the latter untouched of course; but the tools and cash I can use.

Recently I found a wallet containing $165, some Home Depot and Lowe’s gift cards, a bank card and various pieces of identification. Unfortunately there was nothing that had an address or phone number. I reported the find to the sheriff’s office and deputy actually came down Brumby Road to take it and try to find the owner. He said they had databases they could look through to try to track the owner down. Since one of the ID cards was a State of California Benefit Card (whatever that is), I’m pretty sure the owner got his money back. And I say ‘his’ because the first name on the cards was “David”. If parents are naming their female offspring “David” for some woke reason I don’t understand, mea culpa.

Today the air is miserably smoky and it probably would have been better to stay off of the bike, but I decided to ride anyway, and just go very easy. That I did: my average heart rate was all of 91 BPM, which is low enough that I could do all my breathing through my nostrils and hopefully avoid getting those evil PM 2.5 particles embedded deep in my lungs.

As I was pedaling on the east end of Armstrong Road, I noticed some envelopes on the side of the road that looked the official mailed ballots that Stoker and I recently received. I circled back and took a look. Sure enough, there were two ballots sitting on the ground at least 100 yards from any house or mailbox.

I took note of the address on the envelopes, then rode my bike looking for the house. It was only about 200 yards from where I found the ballots. No one seemed to be home, so I put the ballots in the mailbox with the same address as the ballots after taking this photo. The names have been redacted for national security reasons.

Mistakes happen, but finding two ballots alongside the road does not exactly inspire confidence in the integrity of our mail only elections. I mean, a less scrupulous person could have marked the ballots, faked a signature hoping no one would check, and mailed them. No one would ever catch me if I did that.

I was somewhat tempted to cast two more votes with my preferences (which I’m sure my readers can guess, but this isn’t a political blog and I ain’t sayin’). But I didn’t, of course. That would be wrong. One person, one vote. If you can retrieve your ballot from the side of the road, that is.

Or perhaps ‘line the toe’ with some kind of bandage or padding. Though it is a bit late for that now.

If you have been cycling for more than 35 years, you will remember that pedals were equipped with metal toe clips and leather straps to keep your cycling shoes firmly attached. These devices did the job, but they resembled some kind of torture implement used by Torquemada to extract confessions from non believers.

Pro riders used to tear their shoes off after tough stages, then pour water on their feet to try to get some relief. Later the riders suffering from ‘hot foot’ would work their way back to the race doctor’s car, and beg for some ‘Freeze It’ spray to try to ease the discomfort.

Around 1984 LOOK came up with the first widely accepted clipless pedal. The system acted a bit like a ski binding, which LOOK also manufactured. There was a cleat that you attached to the bottom of the cycling shoe, and it snapped into a retaining mechanism on the pedal itself. To release the shoe you simply turned your ankle away from the bike and the cleat would pop free.

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There was a bit of initial skepticism among riders, who were concerned that the pedal might accidentally release under heavy pedaling pressure, which could result is an horrific crash with damage to vital body parts. But ‘encouraged’ by sponsors (“ride this or else”) the pedal was widely adopted by pros and amateurs alike. The fears of unintended release were unfounded and the system proved to be extremely reliable. It was actually even safer than the old style equipment. If you crashed, and the pros crash a fair amount, the cleat would almost always release and your knees and ankles wouldn’t twist and perhaps tear muscles or tendons. With the old pedal system you were locked in and twisted joints were a real risk when you hit the ground.

And wonder of wonders, the new system was a quantum leap in cycling comfort. No more steel toe box jammed up against the front of your shoes. No more leather straps biting into the top of your foot. By 1990 it was hard to find a serious cyclist who had not converted to the new clipless world.

I usually do not have issues with my feet on rides under 3 hours long. However, when the ride length goes over 4 hours and especially if there is a lot of climbing my tootsies start complaining. I remember one time climbing Pacific Grade at the end of the Bear Valley to Markleville ride (something like 72 miles, 8,000 feet and over 6 hours) I stopped just after the last switchback. It wasn’t the 20% pitch that did me in, it was the enticing snowbank promising some cool relief for my screaming feet. I iced them down and pedaled on numbed and happy.

So foot issues are nothing new for me, but on my recent trip to the Pyrenees I encountered something new. On our 7th and final ride we started with the Col de Bagargui, and on the 3.1 mile section that averages 12.8% I was feeling some pressure on my left toes. Of course on a road that steep everything hurts so I didn’t pay much attention.

The pressure continued for the rest of the ride, and when we finally got to St. Jean de Luz I was glad to take off my cycling shoes. And look what I found…

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I’ve never seen toe bruising this extensive as a result of a bike ride, or anything else for that matter. I don’t know if I’m going to lose any of those nails, and I am being careful when I put on and remove socks. And I’m really trying hard not to stub my toe against anything, which is always a good plan but seems especially important now.

Since I’m done with the Pyrenees I have no plans to do any 5+ hour rides until next year. And when I do I might consider thicker socks or some kind of padding to ease the pedaling pressure. Or hope to find a convenient snowbank.

It was wonderful to get on an airplane and head to France for a week of cycling. Of course wearing a mask for 2 hours at SFO, 2 hours boarding and waiting at the gate and taxiing, 10 hours in the air, 6 hours at Charles De Gaul in Paris, and 2 hours flying to Toulouse and waiting for luggage was a little less than wonderful. That is a total of 22 hours masked up. The only time the masks came off was during meals or cocktails. That is a lot of CO2 rebreathing.

I was in France for 44|5’s Pyrenees Tour. I did this ride back in 2017, and thought it was such a wonderful cycling trip that I wanted to come back to do it again. On the first trip I surprised myself by actually riding pretty well. But before this reprise trip I had severe doubts about my cycling shape.

Ever since the first Covid lockdown I have felt like my cycling strength has severely deteriorated. I haven’t been riding as much or as hard or doing as much climbing. Stoker and I stopped riding hills, since the main reason we do that is to get prepared to ride together in Malaucene, which didn’t happen for two years in a row.

Maybe it is age (I’m on Medicare now!), maybe it is lack of motivation, but I wasn’t at all sure I was ready for the Tourmalet (9.5 miles, climbing 3900 feet, 7.8% average grade) or Hautacam (8 miles, 3400 feet, 8.0%). or some of the other big climbs in store. After a warm up day on Saturday, we had six days of major climbing planned. The total for the week was 330 miles and a whopping 42,000 feet of climbing.

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I did most of those miles, and I actually rode a lot better than I expected. Consider that back in 2017 I climbed the aforementioned Tourmalet in 1:52:37. This year I did it in 1:53:03! Now that is consistency. Mediocre consistency of course. In 2017 Hautacam took me 1:28:12 to reach the summit, and this year I managed 1:33:10.

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The only climbs I had to sag were the ‘Col d’ Hotel’ up to Larrau and the road from the Col du Soudet up to the Col de Pierre de San Martin. I got a flat at the base of the Col d’ Hotel and couldn’t figure out how to work the through axle, so I had to call for help and by the time the van arrived I decided that 72 miles and 8200 feet was enough for the day, so I skipped the final 3 km climb of 750 feet. The next day when I got onto the open upper slopes of the Col du Soudet, the wind was howling and I didn’t want to do the final stretch up to the San Martin and possibly get blown off the road either going up or down. So I missed about 1,500 feet of the climbing and ended up with 310 miles and 39,800 feet for the trip. This is by far the biggest week of cycling for me since August 2019.

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The final day’s ride from Larrau to St. Jean de Luz was a big one, starting with the very difficult Col de Bagargui. The Col started almost as soon as we left the hotel. The first 3.3 miles average a reasonable 7.0%, but then things get serious: the next 3.1 miles average a whopping 12.8%! That is an extraordinarily difficult climb when I’m fresh, which on the 7th straight day of riding I certainly was not. But I made it up without walking. Thanks to Strava I know that back in 2017 I did the Col in 1:19:55, and this year it only took 1:20:38, less than one minute slower. More mediocre consistency.

So my first European cycling trip since 2019 was a success. I have been saying for years that as you get older it is better to take one challenging cycling tour too many than one too few. Since the Pyrenees went well I will be back for more in 2022. The plan is to spend a month in Malaucene with at least a little tandem riding, followed by a week in the Cevennes and thence to Belgium for pave and cobbled climbs and beer. I don’t know if Covid will allow this but if my legs behave like they did last week, I’ll be ready for it. Koppenberg, here I come!

I have just returned from a wonderful week of riding the in the French Pyrenees. It was my first trip to Europe since August 2019 in the Dolomites. Covid put all non-essential international travel on hold for almost two years. I might suggest that cycling in Europe constitutes essential travel, but I doubt the CDC would agree.

Speaking of the CDC, look what came they came out with about 5 days before I flew to Toulouse. And while I was in France the State Department chimed in too.

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There were some added complications. My CDC vaccination card got me a boarding pass at the airport and was sufficient to satisfy my hotel in Toulouse. But during our trip France put new regulations into effect requiring le pass sanitaire before you could check into a hotel or eat at a restaurant or cafe. Le pass required a QR code, and it wasn’t clear how I was going to use my CDC Card, which had no such code, to get the French version.

My favorite touring company, 44|5, came to the rescue! Before the trip John and Gerry had us all send copies of our CDC Cards and passports to them. John found a French pharmacy that would enter the information into the French system. So we had our French passes on paper when we started the tour, a day before the new French requirements went into effect. Gerry advised us to download an app that would allow us to scan our paper versions into our cell phones and create a digital wallet which would allow us to show our pass when requested.

And requested it was, at least at all the places we stayed or ate at. Walk into a cafe wearing a mask, and before you get shown to a table you pull up the pass QR on your phone and the host takes their phone and scans it. There is a reassuring ‘beep’ that says you are good to go, so you get seated and immediately the masks come off and stay off for the duration of the meal. Which is not rushed in France.

Same thing when checking into a hotel, except there the masks stay on whenever you are inside the building, unless you are seated at a bar or restaurant or breakfast table. Why masks are necessary in deserted hotel hallways but not necessary in crowded restaurants is unclear, but this conundrum is certainly not unique to France.

There was some question about how the French would react to the pass sanitaire requirement. There were large protests about the issue, and long lines outside pharmacies for shots when it became apparent that if you wanted to sip an aperitivo you were going to need a QR to do so. At one hotel a potential restaurant customer (not an American) took exception to the requirement and a debate (in French) with the hotel owner ensued. The innkeeper was adamant: no pass, no meal. Thanks to Gerry listing in and translating, I know that the owner could be fined 1300 euros for a violation.

A CDC Vaccine Card got me into France, but it wouldn’t get me home. Reentering the U.S. required a negative Covid test within 72 hours of boarding the flight. 44|5 came through again. Gerry made appointments for us at the Toulouse airport the day before our flights home. He escorted us to the testing station and handled the check in. 15 minutes later, four Americans had their negative tests in hand. And fewer euros in those same hands; we had to pay 42.50 euro each (about $51) for the test.

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So those are the current rules on the ground for travelers to France and French citizens. We followed them and got places to sleep and eat (very well by the way) and were able to fly home. Stories about the riding and eating will follow, stay tuned…

After a wonderful week in South Dakota, the sad fact is that the journey home was much less pleasant. I’ll spare the details but suffice to say that for 11 hours we had masks on continuously save for a blessed 45 minutes sitting at a table at Smashburger in the Denver airport eating burgers and drinking vodka.

Our flight to SFO was delayed, then after we boarded we sat on the ground for another 45 minutes because we had lost our place in the take off queue. This plane crammed a remarkable number of people into a confined space, and when Stoker looked at the way my knees folded against the seat in front of me since there was no place else for them, she remarked that I must be uncomfortable. Really darling, what gave you that idea?

We skipped the overpriced and under iced airline vodka, and eventually arrived at SFO. The bus home was considered ‘private transport’ so we didn’t have to wear the masks. Finally around 12:30 AM our bus arrived at the location where our cars were parked. We were both looking forward to getting home to a glass of Cote du Rhone and a reunion with Luke the Dog.

I put the bags in my Honda Element and fired it up. There was a huge roar, and I thought the plane had followed us to Stockton and was attempting to land. But I shut off the engine and the noise went away. I tried to start the engine again, and the same thing happened. Then the light bulb went on and I realized someone had stolen the catalytic converter.

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Shock was soon replaced by fury. The tour company paid for permission to use this lot. There was 24 hour live person security. There were surveillance cameras. Didn’t seem to matter. Everyone had waivers in place of course, but that didn’t stop me from making a few heated remarks about the state of affairs.

Our tour guide was incredibly helpful. She got her husband to come and give Stoker a lift to Casa Brumby in case Luke the Dog needed to go outside to go. I waited for the Deputy to arrive to take my non-emergency report. The Deputy was sympathetic but told me not to get my hopes up regarding recovery and arrest. He said he had taken hundreds of these reports and made a grand total of 1 arrest. Probably released without any jail time either, it being a non-violent offence.

Finally I got home and opened that bottle of Cote du Rhone. Luke was glad to see me and jumped into my lap, but he must have sensed tension because he soon left for his other chair which he allows Stoker to share. I did limit us to a single bottle although I was sorely tempted.

None of the other cars was touched. I have since learned that Honda catalytic converters from models circa 2002-2012 are favored by the catalytic bandits. The Element has the added benefit of a high ground clearance which makes it much easier to crawl under with a cordless Sawsall and cut the muffler.

Thieves target catalytic converters because they contain precious metals, like platinum, palladium or rhodium, that are valuable to metal dealers. Honda converters on older models are favorites because they contain more of these metals than run of the mill converters. And the prices of these metals have soared recently, so thefts are epidemic, and no location is safe. My brother has a motor home he parks under cover at a locked storage facility surrounded by a 10 foot chain link fence. Some gang scaled the wall and took around 15 converters in one raid. Including his.

For the past two days I’ve been dealing with towing companies and repair shops and insurance claims agents and adjusters. I must say that I have been treated very well by these folks. The adjuster and the shop agreed on a price, a whopping $3500! But I only have to pay $250 of that. I have a nice rental car, much nicer that the my poor old Element, for free. Everything went smoothly and quickly and my financial loss is minimal.

But I’m really disturbed by how crimes like this are so prevalent and nothing seems to happen to the perpetrators. My out of pocket costs are minimal, but the cost to society is much larger since insurance companies have to make a profit and increased claims mean higher rates. Same for retail prices: thanks to cell phone cameras and the internet we can see brazen incidents of shoplifting daily. People walk into stores and walk out with bags full of stuff, and nothing happens. The State says they won’t prosecute cases and the store employees are told not to confront the thieves lest the situation escalate to violence and someone get hurt.

Over the years I’ve had two nice bikes stolen, and we suffered home break ins at Casa Brumby and at a house we were renting in Phoenix. Add the catalytic converter to the list. The Bible advises us to forgive those who trespass against us. But it also suggests appropriate punishments along the lines of ‘an eye for an eye’. I guess I’m kind of an Old Testament type.

Once upon a time, there was a big celebration in Lodi put on by a group of northern plains emigres called the Dakota Picnic. It seems a lot of people from that part of the country moved to California to escape the Dust Bowl and found paradise with no cold winter weather. So they put on a big celebration to eat bratwurst and drink beer and dance the polka.

Today of course, the migration is moving the other way. Stoker and I have friends who have moved to Idaho and Iowa and Kentucky and Ohio and even Florida. So far Stoker and I are staying put. But we did just take a one week trip to South Dakota, touring the area around Rapid City on a bus instead of a bike.

We were on tour with Setness Tours, a local company that runs day trips and week long tours and overseas excursions to many destinations. We have toured with them before and can say that they put together some great itineraries. Check them out at https://www.setness.com/ .

South Dakota definitely has a lot to see. We went to Lead (rhymes with deed) and Deadwood. We toured the huge Homestake mine and enjoyed a buffet lunch in a casino, something we never do.

We went on an open air bison safari and saw lots of the massive beasts, along with deer and elk and big horn sheep and wild Modestines that loved to beg for carrots.

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We went to the Black Hills National Park and Badlands National Park and Custer State Park, which so far retains its name, as South Dakota is much less ‘woke’ than many other parts of the country. All the countryside was very impressive, but Badlands is especially so. From Rapid City you drive through what seems like infinite miles of rolling grassland prairie, then suddenly you come up to this:

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The road through the Badlands National Park would be spectacular for cycling, but there are way too many cars and campers and trailers and tour buses. So I was kind of shocked to see the Trek Travel had a tour with at least 20 riders. The scenery was truly magnificent but it cannot have been a pleasant cycling experience.

And no trip to the area is complete without a trip to Mount Rushmore. We did it twice, once during the daylight hours and once for The Illumination. The Illumination is a ceremony that begins at 9 pm with a dramatic speech from a ranger who spoke of freedom and liberty and how in America we are free to do what we want and go where we want and be what we can be. Although I wanted to put away my political cynicism in such a dramatic and patriotic setting, I had a nagging thought about whether this has been true for the last 18 months.

At 9 pm there is still enough light to see the monument towering high above the amphitheater. But as the talk and the movie proceed, darkness comes on and it disappears. Suddenly, as the movie reaches its climax of a patriotic tribute to our country, the spotlights go on and the presidential faces high above are brilliantly lit up. Time for some goosebumps.

More goosebumps follow. We sang ‘The Star Spangled Banner’, and as far as I could tell everyone sang with full voice, on key or not. Finally, the ranger who had given the dramatic speech invited all veterans and active duty personnel to join her on stage to take down and fold the American Flag.

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There must have been over 100 people who came up on stage, to sustained and enthusiastic applause. Then as the flag was lowered and folded there was dead silence from the crowd of more than 2000 people watching. When the ceremony was complete everyone left both subdued and elated and maybe a bit teary.

We lightened things up the next morning at an animal park. Along with the many animals roaming in a natural setting there were four baby bears cavorting and swimming and climbing trees and wrestling with each other. If that didn’t make you smile, check to see if you have a pulse. Then off to the airport for a couple of flights and around 7 hours of continuous mask wearing, vaccinations be damned. We were able to remove them for burgers and much needed vodka in the Denver airport, but after we left Smashburger it was masks on all the time, as the flight attendant seemed to take great joy in reminding us. Even between sips of the water they allowed us, we were supposed to pull them back up. I struck a small blow for freedom by holding my bottle to my lips unmasked for about 1 minute, risking rebuke. What a rebel I can be!

A surprise awaited us when we finally arrived at our cars back in Stockton sometime around 1 am Saturday morning. But that is another blog…