Month: May 2019

Ten Days to Liftoff

Over the weekend my oldest brother told me that he has the document that I need for my Irish citizenship application. Dang. I could have sworn I had it. Anyway, he’s putting it in the mail so I can ship off my packet of documents and photographs to Dublin. Yay.

Yesterday it rained all day. Having not slept a wink on Friday night I took full advantage of the rain. I slept in. Then I took an afternoon nap. Then I watched a baseball game on TV. In other words, I took the day completely off. Stressing out over the application had worn me out mentally and physically.

With batteries recharged and perfect weather, I rode The Mule 61 miles today. It was a nonstop ride from my home in Mount Vernon, Virginia to DC to Potomac Village, Maryland, to Bethesda Row, Maryland and back. I managed to find a few decent hills including the climb near Great Falls Park on MacArthur Boulevard. This climb very much resembles the long climbs I did in the Cascades (except for the fact that it is less than ten percent as long).

I rode at least two miles per hour faster than usual without meaning to. My left knee and my back were barking at me over the last five miles but I made it the whole way stopping only to tie my shoes and obey stop signs and red lights.

I was pretty tired so I made myself a Dagwood and inhaled that bad boy. Then I went out and mowed the lawn.

Ninety minutes later I was toast. The effort was similar to what I’ll be doing day after day on my tour. Of course, I didn’t carry a touring load on my bike but tacking on the lawn job was a good way to balance that out.

In ten days I should be rolling west from my in-laws house in Indiana.

Time to make a packing list.

Rolling Therapy for Prapanca

I slept terribly last night. I was all stressed out about the missing document I need for my citizenship application. My mind just ran riot thinking about the missing document. All night long. Pure prapanca. 

IknowIhavethatdocumentsomewherebutifIdon’tIllhavetogetmygrandfather’sofficialdeathcertificateandtakeitandabunchofotherofficialdocumentsanddrive400milestoaskacourtforanordertoallowthestatetogivemethedocumentbutwhatifIrelandcancelsmyapplicationinthemeantimeandIhavetostartoverandpayanother$323bucksmylifesuckswhycan’tIfallasleeprollovermaybethatwillhelpnoitdoesn’tdon’tlookattheclockit’s2am…

Somehow through this tornado of thought and self-induced stress, I managed two two-hour spurts of fitful sleep. Needless to say, I was a wreck all morning. I conducted another search for the document. No luck.

Just reading the morning paper and trying to do the puzzles was exhausting. Coffee didn’t help either. It just made me more anxious. I tried meditating but all it did was cause my mind to go back into its spin cycle.

Around 2 p.m., I decided to do an easy bike ride on The Mule. Maybe 20 miles. After 1 mile I felt better. Two miles, even more so. By ten miles I was a happy camper. I went out of my way to ride up some hills. No problem. Let’s ride over there and back over there and isn’t it a lovely day and I love riding in shorts and a t-shirt and what the heck was I so stressed about anyway?

My body was happy. My mind was calm. Life is good.

Tomorrow I’ll look for the document again. Maybe I just misfiled it.

 

 

Bureaucratic Madness

I am applying for Irish citizenship by birthright. My paternal grandmother was born in County Mayo in the late 19th century. She came to the US and married my grandfather, an American, in 1907, 112 years ago.

For my citizenship application, I need her birth, marriage, and death certificates, my father’s birth, marriage, and death certificates, and my birth and marriage certificates. This took months and a couple hundred dollars. I filled out the application and paid $323 by credit card on line. Today Lawyer Mike agreed to witness by application and some other documents at Friday Coffee Club. (Come for the caffeine, leave with the documents.)

When I got home I photocopied everything and then realized I can’t find my grandmother’s official marriage certificate. I know I had it. I remember because the embossed seal had faded. But maybe I confused it with another document.

I feel like I should send my application in anyway, and wait for Ireland to tell me the marriage certificate is missing.

To get the marriage certificate, I have to petition one of the New York State Supreme Courts. (They have more than one. They don’t mess around up there.) Even though my grandfather died in 1948 and my grandmother died in 1965. You’d think there was a statue of limitations for documentation. You’d be wrong.

I have to demonstrate my need. So that means proving lineage. I do not know, and no one up yonder can tell me, if I need to provide official copies on these documents.

Which will be in Dublin if I submit my application.

I have asked my siblings to search for the document. I leave on my tour in two weeks and don’t want this thread dangling.

Slainte

 

April in my rear view mirror

After a week of mourning and activism, I need to move ahead. Dealing with the sudden death of a friend is always very hard. Seeing the incredible outpouring of love for Dave in the local community (and beyond) has been amazing.

I pulled up a bunch of old Flickr pictures to share with friends on Facebook. I had said in my last blog post that I’d known Dave for five years. The pictures say that it’s more like ten. I had forgotten how many rides we did together.

He may be gone but like Tom Joad he’ll still be here.

“A fellow ain’t got a soul of his own, just little piece of a big soul, the one big soul that belongs to everybody.”

But unlike Tom Joad, Dave had an enormous soul. And his passing leaves a our one big soul broken.

When I heard the news, I didn’t even want to look at a bike, much less ride it thousands of miles. That feeling faded with dozens of tearful hugs from friends over the last week.

My Errandonnee activity came to a screeching halt however. It just didn’t seem right to continue. Most of my rides in the last week were to and from DC to visit the site of the crash twice, go to a happy hour with mutual friends, and attend a rally at the District Building (city hall) to call for the city to up its game to keep vulnerable road users safe.

Near the end of the month my Cross Check’s odometer hit 12,000 miles. I put it away and switched to The Mule for the rest of the month.

Ironically, on my first ride to the crash site, I found out that the brakes on The Mule were nearly useless. When I got home I tried to put new brake pads on the bike but the hardware on the 28-year old brake mechanism was so rusted that I couldn’t get one of the old pads free of the caliper. Fed up, I took the bike to my local bike shop where they swapped out the old cantilever brakes for new mini v-brakes. Afterwards I could skid my back wheel. A vast improvement.

The planning for my tour continues to march ahead. The expected start date is now May 16. Launch will occur from the small town of North Judson, Indiana instead of Chicago. This is because Mrs. Rootchopper will be driving me there in her new car. Her 15-year-old car was burning oil like a bad diner cook. Speaking of diners, North Judson has an awesome one that I will hit up before departure. During Lent, they make killer paczkis, which Dave, who lived in Chicago and its environs before moving to DC, would have appreciated.

I have built a decent mileage base, riding 868 miles in April. So far this year I have clocked 2.609 miles, mostly in 30-mile days.  That, and riding 1,300 miles from Indiana to Colorado, should put my legs, not to mention engine weight, in good stead for the climbing during the middle of the trip.

My long ride of the month was a 64-mile jaunt to Bethesda and Potomac, Maryland. A few days ago I did a hilly 39 miler. I also rode to six or seven baseball games at Nationals Park. The rides were better than most of the games. Blame the bullpen.

Last night on the way home from the last game of April, I spooked a yearling in the dark along the Mount Vernon Trail. It bounded along the trail ahead of me for a few hundred yards, its white tail dancing in the white circle of my headlight.

On to May….