Rocky the Rescued Racoon

I haven't had much inspiration for the blog lately (except for a super fun baby shower last weekend which I will be posting about after I sort through the zillions of photos) so I'm extra pleased about my eventful Wednesday evening bike ride.

Every Wednesday evening for the past couple summers, if the weather is pleasant and my knees aren't complaining too loudly I ride the AABTS club ride. It's 25 miles and it's kinda fast. This summer the ride leaders and most of the other riders have been leaving me in the dust. So it's been more of a push-my-limits fitness ride and less of a social ride. But this week was a little different. This week I managed to catch up with Courtney at about the half way point. She was taking it easy. I've ridden with her before. She's quite capable of leaving me in the dust. Her husband, Cameron, is quite capable of riding circles around me... very large fast circles. Courtney and Cameron are new to the club this year and they're super nice folks.

When Courtney and I crested a small hill and saw her husband standing on the side of the road we figured he must have gotten a flat. He's had some very very bad luck with flats lately. This time both his tires were fully inflated. Turns out he was in the middle of a wildlife rescue. This little guy was trying to cross the road:

With no mama raccoons in sight Cameron couldn't figure out which side of the road to leave this poor fella on. Each time Cameron tried to set him down, the little guy would cry and try to follow.

Courtney and I rode on expecting Cameron to get it all sorted and catch up with us shortly. Forty-five minutes later our route returned us to an intersection about two miles from where we'd left Cameron and the baby raccoon. And there they were, sitting in the grass outside the convenience store. Rather than leaving little Rocky the Raccoon to certain death on the side of the road, Cameron had called the humane society.

I have mixed feelings about raccoons. I admire them for their cleverness, but also find them a bit frightening, seeing as how they are wild animals and all. Several years ago, while Buster and I were camping, a raccoon made himself a fine lunch by figuring out how to unlock our tote of dry foods. Later when I was alone in the campsite a raccoon, likely the same one returning for an evening snack, tried to sneak up on me and nearly succeeded. His little paw-hand was inches away from my box of crackers when I spotted him and chased him off. He retreated to the very edge of the campfire light and proceeded to stalk me and my crackers until Buster returned. Outnumbered, he finally sulked off into the woods.

So I know from personal experience that raccoons are pretty smart, but they can also be very pesky and more than a little mean. And I can't imagine it'd be possible to domesticate them. I figured the humane society would put down the poor little guy that Cameron so kindly rescued. I suppose that would be a better fate for him than getting run over by a car or starving to death... but not much better.

Courtney and I were still there outside the convenience store with Cameron and little Rocky when the humane society guy arrived. No, they were not going to put him down unless he had distemper. Sadly, he had some symptoms -- he appeared malnourished and lethargic, and there was a little bit of discharge from one of his eyes. But he didn't show the typical neurological signs so maybe he's not sick, just hungry. The humane society guy figured that momma raccoon probably got hit by a car and this little guy had been on his own without momma to feed him for several days.

Turns out there are state licensed rehabilitation folks for wild animals. I've seen folks that do this on a TV program called Michigan Out of Doors that Buster likes to watch. They rehabilitate sick animals and reintroduce them into the wild. The animals that can't survive on their own in the wild, like the eagle with the amputated wing they had on the TV show, stay with the rehab folks and travel around the state to educate the public and promote the rehab efforts. I don't know if it's the same rehab folks that I saw on TV, but the humane society guy was taking rocky to some rehab folks.

Little Rocky may never know how lucky he is that Cameron, with a big heart and a love of animals, happened to be riding by just then. We're all hoping that little Rocky the Rescued Raccoon gets the food and care he needs in the animal rehab orphanage and grows up clever and strong so he can steal lots of breakfast cereal from locked food totes and terrorize many a lone cracker-eating camper.

More Thrust Less Drag, 6 wk Update

I try to be cheery and upbeat around here but life isn't always cheery and upbeat. Truth be told, I'm a bit frustrated with my training and weight loss program. I've been exercising a ton, putting 75 miles or more on my bicycle each week, playing some softball, and hitting the gym on rainy days. I've also been counting calories using the spark pages nutrition tracker. It's been nearly six weeks since I officially started this project, and except for that typical week-one drop (probably water) I haven't lost a single pound.

I'm not perfect with the calorie counting. I've missed a few days of tracking and I've gone over the calorie goal a few days. The calorie goal is set by plugging in how many calories you expect to burn that week through exercise. I regularly burn a lot more calories than I've plugged in. I figure this should cover my slip ups with the tracking.

Maybe I need to try to be more diligent about my tracking, but I don't think I'm overeating. It's possible that I'm not eating enough, but that also seems unlikely. Some folks have suggested that, since I ramped up my exercise a bit, I'm building muscle to replace the fat I've lost. I'm sure that accounts for some of it but I've been working at this for 6 weeks. By now I should be seeing movement on the scale. Maybe I need to mix it up, eat different things. Or maybe I need to do more cross training or weight lifting. But taking time away from biking while the weather is good and DALMAC is on the horizon just doesn't appeal.

On the "more thrust" side of the equation, I seem to be building endurance, and that's good because that's what I really need for DALMAC. I don't, however, seem to be getting any faster. I suppose I don't really need to get any faster, but it sure would be nice to not be left behind on the Wednesday night club rides. This is mildly frustrating but I'm not too worried about it. I rode HARD last Wednesday. I couldn't keep up with the others but I pushed and pushed anyhow. I expected to feel wrung out when I finished, but I didn't. I felt pretty good. I think the speed will come if I can drop some weight. And there in lies the real frustration.

This has pushed me to do something I haven't done in a very very long time. I made an appointment with a doctor. I see the dentist, optometrist, and the dreaded girly doctor regularly, but I haven't seen a general practice physician in... heck, I don't know how long. I'm seeing one next Friday.

I honestly don't think she's going to find anything wrong with me or that she'll have anything to tell me that I haven't already though of. And if she offers weight loss drugs I will most likely turn them down flat. I do not believe in weight loss drugs, they tend to be unhealthy and dangerous, and they don't tend to work particularly well unless combined with.. say... cocaine. And cocaine is right out since the goal here is to be a healthy person not a skinny corpse.

So, I fully suspect that next Friday my new doctor will confirm that I'm surprisingly healthy given my weight and my family history. And I suspect she'll tell me to keep doing pretty much what I'm doing. Maybe, just maybe, she'll have some new insight, some advice, some key bit of information I've been missing. Maybe she'll spot a flaw in my plan, or maybe she'll send me to a nutritionist. In the mean time, I'll march on, tracking calories and exercising hard and often. Maybe I just need to keep doing what I've been doing and not give up. At least I'm not gaining!

A Neighborhood Wedding

One of the Neighbors got married this weekend. I grew up in a really wonderful neighborhood. The subdivision was built in the early 70s and most of the folks moving in were young couples starting families. With so many people in the same stage of life and so many little kids running around it was nearly inevitable that we'd form a close knit community. Our little corner became especially close. The K's lived right next door. I've talked about them before. The H's lived on the other side of the K's and the C's lived across the street. Everyone except my parents has moved out of the neighborhood, but we've all stayed close friends. We gather together for the kids' graduation parties (all done with these) and the occasional Christmas party and weddings.

This weekend Kara C married a very lucky boy named Craig. I don't know Craig very well but he seems like a pretty nice guy. Kara was a stunningly beautiful bride.


I used to babysit for Kara and her brother, Chris. Kara was the sweetest little girl and Chris was a natural leader and they were both just as smart as could be. Not much has changed.

The wedding was at a country club here in Ann Arbor. The rain on Saturday pushed the ceremony into the ballroom but it didn't dampen our spirits. The K's and the H's and the R's (that's my family) all sat together in the back and we all had a wonderful time.

All the H's were there:


Kelly H was a bride's maid. She looked really pretty in that sage dress. Mr and Mrs H are renewing their vows in August. Sadly, I won't be able to make it. I'll be riding DALMAC .

Most of the Neighbor kids are married now and many have kids of their own (third generation Neighbors). Here's Kelly H and her brother, Chris H with his wife and their second son, the newest Neighbor.
And here's Justin H and his wife. They have two lovely girls.


Here's Kenn K and his lovely wife.

They have a darling little girl and are expecting a baby boy in a few short weeks. Sorry this picture is a little blurry.

And here's Buster and me.
We don't have any kids, yet, and neither does my brother. That means my parents are the only first generation neighbors to not yet be grandparents. I think this makes my Mom green with envy. Don't worry, Mom, you'll be a grandma someday.

Here's a few pictures of the first generation neighbors. Here's the dads with our lovely bride.

That's Mr H, then Kara (of course), my Dad, and Mr K.

And here's the Moms.
That's Mrs C (can you see the resemblance to Kara?), Mrs K, my mom, and Mrs H.

And one more second generation Neighbor, the brother of the bride! That's Kara's brother Chris on the left. He and Justin H presenting a slider to the camera. Apparently no party is complete without sliders.

Those sliders looked pretty good at the time... But I think that was probably the wine talking!

It was a lovely wedding and a wonderful party. I'm so very happy for Kara and I wish her and Craig lots of love and laughter, and many many happy years together. I hope he always remembers how lucky he is. Welcome to the Neighborhood, Craig!

One Helluva Ride! 2008

The gods were not smiling on One Helluva Ride this year. Bad weather and a chemical spill conspired to overshadow the amazing work of the OHR organizers and volunteers.

I got up at the crack of dawn and drove out to the Chelsea fairgrounds hoping I could get my 100 mile ride in before the bad weather hit. There were probably two or three hundred cars already in the parking area when I arrived. The threat of bad weather sure didn't keep too many people away!

I was all checked in and on my bicycle pulling out of the fairgrounds just before 7:30am. Less than a mile into the route, still in Chelsea, we needed to make a left at a fairly busy intersection with a "smart" left turn light. When I'm on a bicycle "smart" lights are one of my pet peeves. What's one to do when the traffic signals never change in your favor? The only thing we could do was run the light. Some riders were more considerate about it than others. Kudos to the riders that politely yielded to motorists before running the red. Next year maybe we can ask the Chelsea police if they wouldn't mind posting an officer at this intersection to help us out.

I actually feel a bit whiny mentioning that intersection because the number of police and sag along the route was absolutely wonderful. There were friendly faces at nearly all the busier intersections. I do a fair number of these tours and OHR has more police and sag support than any other ride I've done. And every year it seems to get even better.

You'd think all this police presence would remind motorists to slow down, be patient, and give cyclists plenty of room. But the morning was not without incident. On the west side of Dexter I saw a cyclist was being loaded into an ambulance. She was conscious and on her feet, so I think she'll be ok. On the east side of Dexter I rode past a rider holding a handkerchief to his face. He told me he'd been clipped by a car and he and his friend had already called for assistance. There was a cop at the intersection not a mile behind us. I sure hope someone got a license plate number!

The rest of the first leg of the ride went quite well. The sun was still peeking out below the clouds. The air was heavy and we all knew the rain was coming, but not quite yet. Several miles north of Dexter we turned west onto Darwin Rd and headed toward Hell, MI. Maybe I'm a complete dork, or maybe I just like to poke fun at the Creationists, but I sure do get a kick out of the fact that Darwin is the road to Hell.

While riding the hills of Hell I happened upon Paulie. I met Paulie back in May on the DCC's Metro Grand Spring Tour. On the MGST he was with a couple other riders that rode at about the same pace I do. This time he was with a girl I hadn't met before and I had a hard time keeping up. When we reached the first rest stop (28 miles in) I quickly tucked all stuff I wanted to keep dry into ziplock bags (the rain was definitely coming), grabbed a banana, filled my water bottles with gatorade, and said goodbye to Paulie. I didn't want to waste any time as I was still hoping to get the full 100 in before the weather got nasty. I figured Paulie and his friend would catch up with me before lunch. Sadly, I didn't see them again.

At around 40 miles a couple gentlemen passed me slowly enough to chat a bit. The clouds were starting to look ominous and we all agreed we were likely to get wet. I boldly proclaimed that I didn't mind getting a little wet, I just didn't want hail or lightening. Literally two minutes later I got my wish. Ten minutes later it was raining hard enough to hurt, I was soaked to the bone, and the whole thing stopped being fun. The rain finally let up then stopped all together just a few minutes before I pulled into the lunch stop at Portage Lake in Waterloo State Recreation Area.

I called Buster (in case you're new around here, that's what I call my husband) while I was eating my peanut butter and banana sandwich with a side of yummy pasta salad. He said the weather forecast was not looking too good. When I'd checked the forecast that morning the winds were expected to kick up in the afternoon with the worst of the storms hitting around 4pm. Armed with a dismal forecast but no immediate signs of bad weather I forged ahead thinking I might still be able to make the 100 miles but giving myself permission to take the shorter route if the weather looked bad when I reached the split.

The 100 mile route splits from the 79 mile route right near the Race Rd exit of I-94. The 100 mile route heads west a mile or two on Ann Arbor Rd then heads south to Napoleon before turning back north to Grass Lake, while the shorter route turns East along the service drive for a bit before taking a more direct route to Grass Lake.

As I rode south on Race Rd approaching I-94 I discovered a big knot of traffic. There was a cop directing traffic and an OHR volunteer stationed near the corner to inform us that the 100 mile loop was closed due to a chemical spill just a mile or so west of us. Everyone, motorists and cyclists alike, were being directed East along the service drive. While I was disappointed that riders would not be allowed to ride the longer loop (I helped paint the markings along that loop), I was a bit relieved to have the decision made for me. I would take the 79 mile route the rest of the way (at this point my knees, legs, and sore tush were all quite grateful).

The rest stop in Grass Lake is outside a very nifty old train station. There was a barber shop quartet here this year to serenade the riders. They were pretty gosh darn good. I rested, stretched, ate cookies and bananas, refilled my bottles, and discussed the virtues of a clean shower, a dry towel, and a cold beer with some like minded women. Then I headed out to complete the ride.

At this point the wind really picked up. Luckily it was out of the south so we had a good tail wind for several miles until we turned east for the final leg of the ride back into Chelsea. There were friendly volunteers and plenty of watermelon to greet riders returning to the fairgrounds.

I was dead tired so I skipped the watermelon and headed strait home for that nice clean shower and dry towel I'd been dreaming about for the last 16 miles. A handful of ibuprofen, a nice long nap, and copious amounts of Thai food later I felt human again. Many thanks to the bossman for bringing the Thai food!

The more I think about this year's ride the more proud I am to have been part of the group that made it happen. The weather and the chemical spill were bummers, but everything that could be controlled was nearly perfect. The route was well planned and well marked with both signs and street markings (I helped with a section of the street painting). The maps and cue sheets were flawless. The rest stops and lunch stops were well spaced, fully stocked with good food and beverages, and run by hardworking friendly folks. The sags were copious and responsive and the police were reassuringly ubiquitous. And the t-shirts are really classy. I don't think I could possibly be more impressed or more proud of the folks that made all this happen.

I am more than a little disappointed that I have yet to complete a century this year. I might head down to Findlay, Ohio in September for the Hancock Horizontal Hundred. I know that at least a couple other aabts members will be there and I'm still holding out hope that Mary's knee will stop being so cranky and let her back on her bicycle by then. But I'd really like to have a century under my belt this summer before I ride DALMAC at the end of August so I might just have to map one out myself and do my very first unsupported century. It's a rather daunting thought... We'll see if I can work up the courage to give it a shot.

Same Roads, Same Rights, Same Rules, Part 1

Recently, a staff member of the Boston Globe by the name of Bella English published a blog entry entitled "If only drivers shared the road, cyclists would be safer". It stirred up a bit of controversy. I mostly, but not entirely, agree with Ms English. It's a familiar rant to most road bikers and it goes something like this:

We bikers are all angelic. We hug trees and ride for charity. We obey all the rules of the road all the time. We are polite to automobiles and we stay to the right and always riding single file. You automobile drivers are evil vile and nasty people. You are stupid and angry. Our safety is you're responsibility and you are falling down on the job.

Ok, that's a little extreme. Ms English didn't go that far but she went farther than I like. Her column made me scrunch up my nose a little thinking "no, that's not quite right". As of today there are over 400 comments to her post. It's the comments contradicting Ms English that really got my blood boiling.

Let me start by telling you what Ms English did and did not get right. She starts by painting a very rosy picture of cyclists much like the tongue in cheek rant above. Sorry, that's sadly not the case. I'm a very cautious rider and I try to be as polite as possible to auto traffic. But I cannot claim to obey all the traffic laws all the time. I admit:

1. I blow stop signs... slowly and with a careful eye out for cross traffic, pedestrians, and other cyclists. Clipping out and coming to a full stop on bicycle is kinda a pain. I always give proper right-of-way, but I don't often come to a full stop.
   
2. And I blow red lights. Honestly, only one red light. The left turn signal at Zeeb and Dexter is a smart light and my bike won't trigger it, so I blow it carefully after yielding to traffic.
   
3. I don't always stay to the right. Remember that stretch of potholes I mentioned in my biking post back in May? Those aren't the only or even the worst potholes around here. I will ride in the left half of the lane or even on the yellow line (when there's no oncoming traffic) to avoid potholes. Potholes can do a fair amount of damage to both a bicycle and a cyclist.
   
4. I don't always ride single file. Sometimes, on group rides, I'll get chatting with another rider and we'll be riding side by side so we don't have to shout at one another. I listen for traffic approaching behind us so we can form up if there's a car coming but sometimes I don't hear the car until it's too late. If you pass me in a car while I'm doing this, glance in your rear view mirror. There's a good chance you'll see me wince and say "Sorry!!".
5. I don't always signal. I know the hand signals for left, right, and stop and I try to use them whenever my intentions may not be crystal clear to anyone else on the road. Sometimes, when the road conditions are poor or I need both brakes, I just don't feel safe taking my left hand off the bar in order to signal.

So, I'm a reasonably well behaved cyclist but I'm no angel. Most of the cyclists I see on the road are a lot like me. I've seen other riders that are not quite so well behaved. I've seen riders that refuse to form up so cars can pass more easily. I've seen riders without helmets or with ipod earbuds stuck in their ears. I've seen riders blow through intersections when they should have stopped or yielded. I've seen incredibly rude riders fly through quiet neighborhoods shouting at each other and nearly running over dogs and pedestrians. I've seen riders blatantly ignore the rules of the road cutting in and out of traffic, on and off of sidewalks, creating dangerous situations for themselves, pedestrians, and motorists. I've also seen riders stopped and ticketed by police officers -- Good job, Mr. Police Man!

We cyclists are not angelic. And some of us are, I'm terribly sorry and embarrassed to say, downright rude, obnoxious, and unsafe. But those arrogant turds are the minority. Most of us actually do try to share the road politely, safely, and legally.

On the auto side of the argument, Ms English states, "I divide dangerous drivers into two categories: angry or stupid." (Note we're only talking about the drivers that cause trouble for bikers, not the many polite, knowledgeable, safe drivers.) Angry or stupid? Anger or frustration do not necessarily lead to dangerous behavior. And stupidity is not the same as ignorance. Perhaps I'm just picking on semantics here, but I think "belligerent" and "ignorant" work better than "angry" and "stupid".

Belligerent drivers are the worst. But I don't think I really need to explain this one much. These are the folks that throw things (lit cigarettes, McDonald's bags, drink cups full of ice, random trash, dirty diapers) out their windows at bikers. These are the folks that try to run bikers off the road. These are the folks that lay on their horn or shout nasty things as they pass. These are the folks that get behind the wheel when they've had a few too many. Bullies, a$$holes, whatever you call them, they're intentionally creating dangerous situations and we can only hope they land in jail or earn themselves a posthumous Darwin award. Thankfully there really aren't that many of these dip-twiddles around here. Apparently they're all moving to Boston.

Ignorant drivers are less dangerous but far far more plentiful. There are only a few things you need to know to safely share the road with cyclists. It amazes me that this stuff doesn't seem to be mentioned in drivers education classes. I would love to see a greater effort on the part of cyclists' organizations to educate motorists. From my personal experience, here's what I think all motorists should know:

1. Six feet. That's about half a lane. That's how much room a standard size car or motorcycle should give a cyclist when passing. More is always better, but six feet is enough. And remember, oncoming cyclists need at least half a lane, too. Unless your car is very small it's probably best to wait for ALL oncoming traffic, including cyclists, to clear before passing.
   
2. Ten or more feet. Most of a lane. That's the minimum amount of space an oversize vehicle (van, suv, full size pickup) or anything pulling a trailer should give a bike. Trailers are often wider than the vehicles that are pulling them. I can't even count the number of times I've been scared silly by a trailer passing far too close.
3. Horns are startling! Even when you just tweet them. There's really no need. Unless you're driving a quiet little hybrid on the electrics, I can probably hear you coming without you hittin' the horn.
4. Cyclists' hand signals are the same as drivers' hand signals. You learned this one in driver's ed. Here's a refresher: left hand strait out = left turn; left hand up, elbow bent = right turn (some cyclists point with their right hand); left hand down, elbow bent or strait = slowing or stopping. You may also see cyclists pointing at various places on the road, or at branches hanging over the road, or at pedestrians or slower cyclists ahead. They're pointing out hazards to other cyclists that may too close behind them (drafting) to see what's coming. As you approach or pass cyclists you may hear them shout to riders ahead. They're usually saying "car back!" to warn the other cyclists to form up and be cautious because a car is trying to pass.
5. Motorists, please use your signals to let cyclists know what you're doing! Be predictable so we can stay out of your way. I nearly got into an accident the other day with a motorist trying to turn left without a signal -- I was trying to make a left and merge in behind him, but he was unexpectedly slowing to turn onto the street I was coming from. I ended up turning 180 back onto the street I came from from. He yelled something nasty at me as he passed, but I wouldn't have been in his way if he'd used his signal.
   
6. Don't be alarmed or annoyed when cyclists pull into the stream of traffic at an intersection. That's the safest place for us to be. Cyclists should be given their turn at a four way stop just like a motorist. Cyclists should take a position in the left half of the lane or in the right half of a left turn lane when turning left.
   
7. By law cyclists are supposed to keep right or stay in a bike lane if there is one. However, this rule does not apply when a cyclist is turning left or avoiding hazards. Have you seen Michigan roads lately? Cyclists in my neck of the woods spend a lot of time avoiding hazards. Expect it.
8. Yield the right-of-way to a cyclist just as you would another vehicle.
9. Put away the cell phone and don't drive if you've been drinking. There's nothing more likely to kill a cyclist than a distracted or, worse yet, inebriated driver.

If you, as a motorist, remember these things. If cyclists also behave themselves, the roads will be a lot safer and more pleasant for all of us. Ms. English closes her blog post with this:

"What both bikers and drivers need to do is to understand that neither one owns the road, that both sides must share it in order to ensure everyone's safety. In Rodney King's immortal words: 'Why can't we all just get along?'"

I can't argue with that!

I'm already getting rather long winded here and I haven't even addressed any of the comments to the Boston Globe blog post. I'll save that for later.

In the mean time, If you happen to live in Michigan between Ann Arbor and Jackson within about 15 miles north or south of I94, be on the lookout for me and well over a thousand other cyclists on the roads tomorrow. Every year on the second Saturday in July the Ann Arbor Bicycle Touring Society puts on One Helluva Ride. Last year there were 1730 riders. The century (100 mile) route, which I'll be riding, starts at the Chelsea fair grounds and makes a big loop through Dexter, Hell, Gregory, Stockbridge, Munith, Portage Lake State Park (where we have lunch), Napoleon, Grass Lake, Sylvan, and back into Chelsea. Come out and wave, or better yet, get on your bikes and ride!

Lace: a four letter word

I am knitting lace. I'm not entirely sure that this is a wise thing to do.

My mother-in-law recently moved from Michigan to Florida. The last two Christmases I've given her nice warm store bought cashmere scarves. Now that she's migrated to a warmer climate a warm scarf wouldn't be of much use. I want to make something for her this year so I've been keeping an eye out for a nice elegant light weight wrap pattern. When I saw the Seascape pattern in this summer's issue of knitty, I instantly thought of my mother-in-law and ran out to buy yarn so I could give it a try right away.

I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

My sweater, you may recall, had vine lace pattern panels on the front, but that was different. That was all done in bulky weight yarn. Lace in lace weight yarn is a whole different story. This stuff is hardly thicker than sewing thread and it likes to tangle and snag on things. I tried feeding the ball from the center -- that was a complete disaster! I had to put the ball in a nice smooth high sided heavy bowl and feed from the outside of the ball.

The yarn is a bit fussy, but it's also quite pretty. I found the yarn at my local yarn shop. It's "Daphne" color 07 by Elegant Yarns. The website shows a lot more colors in "07" than my ball seems to have. Mine looks like it's mostly going to stick close to this purple and green you can see in the photos. It's 100% Merino and there are, I kid you not, 875 yards in a single 50g ball. I shouldn't have any trouble finishing this whole project with one ball of yarn.

My yarn shop had a couple balls of this stuff in a gorgeous flame orange color also. If I can get through this project and if it turns out nice (those are rather big "if"s at the moment) I'll have to go buy a ball of the orange.


I discovered quite quickly that this isn't a knit-while-you-watch-tv kind of project. It requires some serious concentration. This is the first project I've attempted that requires so much mental effort. There's a LOT of counting and keeping track and I've already had to compensate for a couple minor mistakes that were too difficult to fix properly without starting completely over.

Right now I'm using bamboo needles. I think I might need to get myself a #4 addi turbo lace needle and switch to that. The points on the bamboo needles are a bit too dull. I'm having to fiddle to get the points into the stitches and that's making the whole thing take twice as long as it would otherwise.

Also, it's nearly impossible to see how the project is going to turn out as I'm knitting because this will most definitely require blocking to give it proper shape. This is the picture from knitty:

And here's what mine looks like so far:

I've finished the end bit and the wavy pattern is just starting to emerge. I'm glad I started this so early. I expect it will take months to finish. And I won't know if this is something my mother-in-law will like until I get it finished and blocked... If I actually do manage to finish it.

Prior to this project I was a pretty monogamous knitter. I'd finish whatever I was working on before starting something new. That's no longer the case. I need my tv knitting. I haven't taken any photos of my other works-in-progress so I'll save those for later. For now, wish me luck conquering the lace.

Zingerman's cin-ful cinnamon rolls

If you ever visit Ann Arbor you really should stop in at Zingerman's. Start with the Deli, but be aware, Zingerman's is much much more than a local deli with top notch meats and cheeses, freshly baked traditional artisan breads, and the best sandwiches in town. They also have a coffeeshop, a bakehouse, a creamery, a roadhouse, a mail order business, a bake school, and a reputation. It's a very good reputation. Zingerman's uses only the best all natural ingredients from all over the world, they cut no corners and spare no expense, and they have a very strong commitment to traditional methods and traditional ingredients. Their food is expensive and it's definitely not low calorie. But you get what you pay for on both those fronts. I haven't tasted anything from Zingerman's that wasn't absolutely delicious.

For mother's day, my brother and his wife got my mom a Zingerman's gift certificate and suggested that she use it to take one of the bake classes. Mom chose the cin-ful cinnamon rolls class (not at all surprising -- Mom has always been a cinnamon roll fan) and I decided to join her. The class was this past Thursday and it was fantastic.

Here's Mom outside the Bake school.

She looks pretty good in that apron! Neither one of us are likely to get passionate about baking anytime soon, but we both had a good time and now we know how to make a very special treat when we get the urge.

I won't give you the recipe for Zingerman's cin-ful cinnamon rolls. I'm a little shocked that they hand it out to folks taking the class (of course, how ever would they teach the class without giving out the recipe?). I will however tell you the process and a few of the things I learned in class. There are 5 steps to making these delectable cinnamon rolls:

1. Make a poolish and let it rise.
2. Make the sweet dough and chill it.
   
3. Form the cinnamon rolls and let them rise.
4. Bake the cinnamon rolls. (This is when things start smelling heavenly)
5. Frost and devour the cinnamon rolls.

Did I forget the making the frosting part? We didn't do that in class.

We did the steps out of order so we could fit all the steps into the 4 hour class.

First we made a poolish. I don't have any pictures of that. A poolish (also known as a pre-ferment) is a starter made of flour, liquid, and yeast. In this case the liquid is milk. For bread it would generally be water. The poolish gives the yeast a head start. Sourdough starter is very similar to a poolish, but sourdough starter uses natural wild yeast while a poolish uses domestic baker's yeast. Bread poolish is usually liquidy, but this sweet dough poolish is firm.

We had to wait for the poolish to rise before we could do step 2 (making the dough), so we moved on to step 3 (forming the cinnamon rolls) with some already mixed and chilled sweet dough.

This is Shelby. He taught the class. A long time ago, before I met Buster, he and Shelby worked together at the bakehouse. That's a mirror over Shelby's table so we can see what he's doing.

Shelby is holding the chilled sweet dough. First he rolled out the sweet dough into a big rectangle.
Then he sprinkled it with yummy filling. That's a mixture of Korintje cinnamon (high quality Indonesian Cassia) and Muscovado brown sugar.

I was surprised to learn that Zingerman's uses Cassia rather than true Cinnamon (capital "C"). The vast majority of cinnamon (lower case "c") sold in the US is Cassia. Cassia and Cinnamon come from similar plants, but Cassia bark has a stronger flavor and a more woody texture. Check out the wikipedia entries I linked above to learn more. I don't know why Zingerman's chose Cassia over true Cinnamon, but Shelby said they did a lot of taste testing and Korintje is the best of all the cinnamons they tried.

Did you know that most of the brown sugar you buy in the supermarket is actually refined white sugar with molasses added back? Muscovado sugar (and most organic brown sugars) haven't had the molasses removed in the first place. Less refining means a more natural product and a better flavor.

Here Shelby is cutting the cinnamon rolls into several different shapes and placing them on a parchment lined baking pan. He was very fond of saying "Don't worry! It's still going to taste great!".

We were given pre-made chilled batches of sweet dough, the ingredients for the filling, and all the tools we needed to roll out and shape our own cinnamon rolls.

Then all our cinnamon rolls went into the proofer.
A proofer is simply a warm humidity controlled box that makes the dough ferment (rise) faster than it would at room temperature. You don't need to use one, it just shortens the rise time. I used one of these way back in my Pizza Hut days to proof the pan pizza dough. So there was no magic here for me.

While our cinnamon rolls rose, we took a few minutes to goof off.

Look! I'm a Hobart! ... Hey, how did buster get in there? He didn't take a baking class! He already knows all this stuff!

Back in class, our poolishes were ready and it was time to mix the sweet dough. First we creamed together the sugar, salt, and butter. A European style cultured butter is best for baking because it has a slightly higher fat content than your typical grocery store butter. Fat may not look so good on your hips but it tastes mighty fine and it makes dough bake up tender and flaky. Zingerman's uses Plugra butter. You can buy it at Trader Joe's.

Then we added eggs and, once they were integrated, we tore up our poolish and added it.

Shelby has just added his poolish. If you look closely you can see the doughy lumps in the egg-y mixture. Integrating the poolish by hand was a challenge. Next time I think I'll use the KitchenAid. Once the poolish was integrated we added the rest of the flour.

We used King Arthur all purpose flour. This flour has a lot of protein (11.7%) for an all purpose flour. Flours can range in protein content from 5 to 15%. Cake flour is at the low end, 5% to 8%. Low protein flour yields a dough with very little structure (a batter) which bakes into fluffy crumb. A higher protein flour, like bread flour (12%-13%), yields a much more structured dough that can be shaped and forms a chewy crumb. To get a structured dough with a tender crumb for our cinnamon rolls we use a higher protein flour -- either King Arthur all purpose flour or bread flour. The eggs and the high protein flour gives the dough structure while the sugar and the butter tenderize the dough so the crumb isn't chewy. If you use a lower protein flour (like Gold Medal all purpose flour at 10.5% protein) you'll likely end up with a puddle of dough instead of a nicely formed cinnamon roll.

While we finished mixing and wrapping up our dough the room filled with the sweet scent of cinnamon-y goodness. The cinnamon rolls were baking!

Shelby is frosting his batch of cinnamon rolls so we can all have a taste.
It's a cream cheese frosting made with cream cheese from Zingerman's creamery *drool*. I love cream cheese frosting and.. ya know those cream cheese commercials with the angels eating that store brand cream cheese? That's false advertising, folks. If angels were gong to eat cream cheese they wouldn't bother with that flavorless paste -- they'd eat Zingerman's cream cheese.

The cinnamon rolls would have been wonderful plain. With this stuff on top they were positively heavenly.

I brought home a dozen cinnamon rolls with frosting on the side, along with a batch of sweet dough ready to make a dozen more.


I gave a few of the cinnamon rolls to the bossman, and buster and I ate the rest in about 3 days. The sweet dough is waiting in the fridge to be baked up into another batch. I originally thought I'd freeze it and make it up in a month or so, but it's calling my name. I might need to do some baking this weekend.

The class was tons of fun. Like most things at Zingerman's, it was on the pricey side but worth it in the end. I learned not just how to make these beauties, but all about the ingredients. I learned about flour and yeast and brown sugar and butter and about how all these things interact and why. I honestly don't know if I'll make a whole lot of cinnamon rolls at home. I don't think my waist line can handle it! But the class was wonderful and I think I might just have to take another.

Happy 4th of July!

Happy BBQ and fun and fireworks.

Happy free speech and happy free elections.
Happy freedom of religion.
Happy free enterprise.

Happy baseball, mom, and apple pie.
Happy wide open spaces, happy amber waves of grain and purple mountains majesty.
Happy big cities and little towns, great lakes and flowing rivers.

Happy home of the free and the brave.
Happy 4th of July.

Power's Out

A huge storm rolled through yesterday evening taking down trees, blowing lawn furniture to Timbuktu, and knocking out our power in a serious way. We've been down since about 7:30pm yesterday (cooking dinner in the dark was an adventure). According to DTE, we might be back up by midnight tonight, maybe... if we're lucky. It's a stinker.

When I was a kid, power outages were all flashlights and candles and adventures. Now they're worry over spoiling food, messed up routines, no Internet, no A/C, no TV, and no light to knit or read. The flashlights and candles are still kinda fun, though.

This morning Buster fetched a block of dry ice for the freezer and a block of water ice for the fridge, just like a very old fashioned ice box. Hopefully that will keep everything until we get power back.

Currently I'm sitting in a cafe eating BiBimBap and drinking a skim latte with the bossman (who is reading a sports magazine -- there's not much work to do today anyhow). All my work email and access is being held hostage on my home desktop computer by the power outage. So no work for me -- yipee! (No Internet surfing either, once I leave the cafe -- bummer!)

I was going to tell you about the lace knitting project today, but all my photos are also being held hostage by the power outage. So that will have to wait.

Just in case I'm not back by tomorrow, Happy 4th of July, everyone!

ETA: Power came back just before midnight July 3. A tree limb fell on a transformer in the neighbor's back yard. We were dark for about 28 hours. Almost everything in the fridge and freezer survived. Buster and I are very happy to have our fridge, lights, Internet, and TV all back up and running. I'm especially happy to have the coffee pot back!

Tires and tubes and spokes and tape

My bicycle recently turned over 5500 miles. I am proud to claim responsibility for every single last one of those miles, up hills and down them, into the wind and with it. However, I'm a bit ashamed to admit that I haven't really kept up with all the routine maintenance like I should.

A few weeks ago my brother-in-law helped me with a few things. We (he) swapped out the chain and the cassette (that the set of gears on the back), repacked the bearings (there are all these little ball bearings in the center of the wheels that sometimes need to be removed, cleaned, put back, and loaded up with fresh grease), and adjusted the fit a little (my knees are pleased). He mentioned that I might want some new tires and new handlebar tape. I decided to wait until later.


Later is now. Last week I wore through the last little bit of cork tape south of the right hand brake hood and it began to unravel. And, Saturday, as I was checking my tire pressure, I noticed just how very worn my tires actually were. The unraveling tape looks shabby but isn't that big a deal. The state of the tires, on the other hand, had me worried. Worn tires lead to flat tires.

There are, in my estimation, four quick ways to ruin a fine day of riding:

1. Crash.
   
2. Get run off the road by an ignorant dillweed.
   
3. Encounter truly nasty weather.
4. Get a flat.

Number 4 is probably the most frequent, though the local population of ignorant dillweeds does seem to be on the rise. Seriously, though, getting a flat is a ride killer. A bicycle flat is almost as big a pain as an automobile flat. Smart cyclists carry at least one spare tube, tire levers, a frame pump or CO2 cartridge, and a dollar bill*. So it's all fixable, but changing a tube while sitting in a drainage ditch surrounded by a swarm of hungry mosquitoes has got to be the very definition of NO FUN.

Luckily, it's been a while since I've had to do that (knock on wood). I rode Saturday on the worn tires and probably could have gone another month without incident. But I wasn't going to take the risk. Before riding yesterday I ran to my LBS (that's "local bike shop" for you non-cyclists out there) and picked up some supplies.

Swapping out bike tires sounds easy, and the LBS guys make it look easy. But it's not. I've got the broken nails, gashed knuckles, and sore hands to prove it.

When I put the rear wheel back on the bike and gave it a spin, it wobbled. That's no good. It took me quite a while to figure out that the wheel was seated right and the wheel itself was out of true (meaning that it wasn't a nice flat circle like it should be). Eep! That's usually bad news! You need fancy tools and more know-how than I have to true a wheel.

I discovered a loose spoke and imagined the worst. But a quick IM chat with a far away biking buddy set my mind at ease. The nipple (that's the little thingy that connects the spoke to the wheel rim) is threaded all backwards. No wonder nothing was catching when I tried to tighten things up. Thank goodness for my far away biking buddy! I tightened up the spoke and tuned it like a guitar -- you can pluck the spokes and tighten or loosen them to make them all sound the same (another tip from the far away biking buddy). All fixed.

Somehow, when I was putting the back wheel back on I must have jostled the rear derailleur (would someone please tell me why we spell it like that?). The drive train is now skipping in one of the gears I use a lot. I'll have to get the bike back up on the work stand and see if I can fix that before I ride tomorrow.

The unraveling bar tape can wait. My brother-in-law said he'd help me with that later this week. I'm really lucky to have such helpful people around!

I've spent a fair amount of time and money tuning up my bicycle this summer. I generally prefer riding over wrenching but bicycles need regular maintenance. If I want a bike in good repair I either have to take a bit of time and do it myself between rides or I have to spend twice the money and leave the bike with my LBS for a week. With plenty of friendly help I'm discovering that I don't really mind the wrenching and doing it myself actually leaves me more time to ride. My LBS is offering free bicycle maintenance classes every other Wednesday evening this summer. I think I'm gonna sign up for one.

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* Note: A dollar bill won't buy much but it should be part of every cyclist's flat tire kit. Dollars are pretty durable little pieces of paper. If you happen to cut open your tire (popping the tube is much more common but big punctures and cuts do happen) you fold the dollar bill into fourths and put it between the new tube and the cut in the tire. This protects the tube from road grit and keeps it from ballooning out of the cut in your tire. You won't be able to inflate your tube to full pressure but you should be able to fill it enough that you can ride home. I've used this trick. It works.