The lure of the ebike

Gitchee Gumi trail, 2015

On a bike ride last weekend, I was routinely passed by cyclists who looked a hell of a lot older and worse physcial condition than I am. The busy trail was swarming with ebikes.

The paper this week had an article asking if ebikes (bicycles with electric motors which help power the rider) provide any health/exercise benefits. As it turns out, a study shows that ebikes give an adequate workout and people who ride them, tend to do so more often.

On my boat/bike trip to the Netherlands last year, several riders had ebikes. On the first day of riding, I volunteered to be the ride "sweep" -  the last rider who made sure no one in the group got lost or stranded. The last person in the regular group that day was an older lady with an ebike who loved to stop and take photos, and then jump back on the assisted bike, and go like the wind to catch up with everyone else. That left me on my regular bike, straining to catch up as well. Not my favorite ride.

On the other hand, one couple was having issues that an ebike solved. The husband was a strong, avid biker and often volunteered to sweep. The problem was that his wife was a rather weak cyclist who had a great deal of difficulty keeping up with the group. His having to wait while she slowly pedaled the route, did not make him very happy. Luckily, another ebike was available and after the second day of the tour, she used it and was always right behind the leader, giving her husband someone else to sweep up after (maybe the photographer).

My current bike is a blue 22-year-old Cannondale road bike - much of which has been replaced over the years. It has served me well on longer bike rides in Wisconsin, Missouri, and Minnesota, as well as international rides in Ireland and Provence. It's been a workhorse and caused me very few problems. It's the only bike I own.

This summer has not been a good biking summer. I've only done a few rides and these have been fairly short. The local bike clubs with which I normally do longer group rides have only been doing "virtual" rides since the COVID outbreak. I've been biking to YMCA about five miles from my house a couple times a week, but not feeling all that strong or confident while biking.

So when does one know when it is time to shift gears and start riding an ebike? Will I be admitting to the limitations of old age? Would I have my passion for bicycling reignited by more enjoyable cycling experiences? I've more or less pledged not to covert until I reach age 70 in a couple years. It may be sooner.

BFTP: Career guidance for grandson Paul

I personally think there's going to be a greater demand in 10 years for liberal arts majors than there were for programming majors and maybe even engineering, When the data is all being spit out for you, options are being spit out for you, you need a different perspective in order to have a different view of the data. In particular, experts in philosophy or foreign languages will ultimately command the most interest from employers in the next decade. Mark Cuban Says This Will Be the No.1 Job Skill in 10 Years Money, February 20, 2017

Dear Paul,

As a high school sophomore, I'm glad you are actively looking at colleges and considering your future career options. A dual major of Chinese and engineering sounds like real winner to me. Anytime you have skills and expertise in two possibly overlapping areas, your value to an organization increases dramatically.

Over the next few years, I expect you will consider and re-consider a number of vocational choices. And these choices will not necessarily be easy to make. Mark Cuban and many other "experts" are speculating on what AI and robotics and other technologies, along with globalization, will mean for future jobs and careers.

While I am certainly no expert in this area, it's safe to generalize about a number of things:

• Jobs that require routine cognitive and physical work will be filled by machines. Even countries with cheap labor markets are automating factories and services. Learning to program or manage these machines is the better option. Better yet, learn to manage the programmers. Or imagine new and better ways to automate, program, or manage!
• Learn to communicate effectively in lots of ways. While writing and speaking will continue to be essential skills, know how to communicate visually as well - through graphics, video, and design. Good ideas without the means to "sell" them won't get noticed.
• A track record of successful problem-solving will be more important than the college you attend. The reputation of a good university might help you get your first job, but from then on, it will be your resume that gets you the rest. Your resume will need to consist of projects completed, problems solved, new initiatives led, not just dates of employment. Keep track!
• Be prepared to continue learning - and take responsibility for that learning. Heaven knows that a very small percentage of what I was taught in my graduate library program is still applicable now over 30 years later. New technologies have completely re-constructed the profession. The rate of change will be even greater for you and your capacity for re-training yourself will be more critical than ever. It will be your personal, not your employers', responsibility for that happening.
• Seek what gives you personal self-worth and value. Find work you look forward to doing every day. Have the courage to change vocations when you no longer care about what you are doing. I don't think you will ever regret placing purpose above salary. Your mom and dad a great examples of how making a difference in the world is as mportant than making a salary. 
  
• Don't skimp on the arts. We learn about the hearts and souls of humanity through literature, music, dance, theater, fine arts, etc. Understanding what motivates and moves others is as or more important than understanding their cognitive processes. I've always appreciated your love of literature and music.
• Give yourself time to play. Find work that allows you time off from work. Hobbies, exercise, travel, time with family, even the occasional binge of TV watching are needed. Sucess is not in how many hours you spend on the job, but how much you get accomplished while on the job. Seriously. If my grandparenting has taught you anything, I hope it just how much a little adventure improves life.

I worry, Paul, about the state of the world you are inheriting. But I am convinced that you and your brother will find ways to lead wonderful, productive, loving lives despite the swirl of economics and environment and changing technologies. Make up your own rules.

Love,

Grandpa Johnson

Original post 2/25/2017

Knowing when to turn back

 

Shafer Road from the rim of Island in the Sky, Canyonlands National Park, Utah

It's hard to know when you are being brave or just being stupid.

"You really should do the scenic Highway 279 drive from Moab to Canyonlands Park. It's amazing!" promised a fellow hiker on our road trip to Utah. So after completing a couple of hikes in nearby Arches National Park late one morning, we headed up 279 on a lovely drive that followed the Colorado River.

The road was great and views were good until we got to Potash. There the state highway ended and the Potash Trail began - 17 miles of dirt track. The posted sign read "4-wheel drive vehicles highly recommended." But we decided to test out the trail for at least a little way. We could always turn back, we rationalized.

Oh, we were driving, not an SUV, but a Toyota Prius without much clearance. And that did not have a spare tire.

For the first couple miles, by driving slowly and carefully over rocks, bumps, and through small ditches, we did fine. And despite being flagged down by a couple drivers (in big ass trucks) going in the opposite direction and being warned "You'll never make it in that car" and "Boy, you've got guts!", we continued on. How much worse could it get? It can't be much farther to the park.

As the road continued, the hill grades got steeper, the rocks got bigger, the ruts deeper. I eased the car over a couple steep rock drop-offs, wincing as I expected to hear the oil pan scrape the road. I kept the wheels on the highest points of the trail, moving ever more slowly, protecting the bottom of the car. "This road has to end soon," I kept thinking to myself. An hour passed.

On the side of the road, we finally met a fellow who was able to give us directions. We were about six miles from a T intersection where we would meet Shafer Road. "If you turn left, you will be on a 116 mile road just like the one you are on now that will dead end. If you turn right, you will have about five miles of very steep switchbacks that will take you to the Islands in the Sky portion of Canyonlands National Park,"  he informed us.

"Will this car make it?" I asked.

He shrugged.

We continued on with the road not getting better but not a whole lot worse. We saw a few jeeps and we keep repeating, "Turn right at the T. Turn right at the T."

In another half hour or so, we did come to the junction, where several off-roaders were parked chewing the fat. We turned right without asking for advice.

After another mile of bumpy, rutted road with some hills, we started our ascent of the butte. The road was better maintained, but it hugged the cliffs closely, often providing Heidi a straight down view of a few hundred feet from the passenger side window. I am happy to report that her knuckles regained their color after only a couple of days. The switchbacks were indeed very steep and the visibility around the corners was nil. But the only traffic we met was a gravel truck which kindly pulled off to the side, and let us pass. On the drop-off side.

Shafer Road as it hugs the lip of the cliffs.

So it was with a sigh of relief when at about 2pm, we finally hit the paved road that led into the national park, just outside the entrance.

While the drive, in retrospect, makes for a good memory and a good story (impossible to tell as dramatically as the event itself was), I wondered if we really should have turned back instead of continuing to push forward? How does one know when one has gone too far? Not just in driving, but in life directions.

Oh, in reading about the road that evening in the motel room, I saw that towing fees to get your car out of the canyon could run up to $1000. I'd guess AAA wouldn't cover my bravery - or my stupidity.