Winter Arrives

Damn! What the Hell is this, Green Bay?

Attn. Tropics: Keep your storms to yourself!

Sunday, September 14 the remnants of Hurricane Ike rolled through my area. No rain to speak of, but the wind blew 60-80 mph all day long. By 3PM or so most of the area was without power as trees across the Miami Valley snapped or fell over, taking powerlines with them.

Not realizing at the time just how widespread the damage was, I wasn’t too concerned about the power, thinking it would be back on in no time. As it turned out, things were much worse than I’d realized. The Governor promptly declared my county (and several others) “Disaster Areas”. By the time I conceded that I needed to get some supplies (Tuesday), they were in short order. ‘C’ or ‘D’ batteries were no where to be found and Kroger was selling ice as fast as they could bag it up. I got ice, hoping to save my freezer full of Vermont Mystic Pies (tragically, that endeavor was doomed to failure), peanut butter and bread. I spent a week bored out of mind, reduced to eating peanut butter sandwiches and fast food and very thankful for Tim Horton’s coffee, having a gas water heater, and my XPower Powerpack 600HD, which I used to power my laptop and DSL modem and then recharged in the car while I drove around searching (in vain) for some sign of repair crews actually repairing. I know they were out there, working hard, It just would have been reassuring to have seen them doing something other than driving to and fro.

DP&L reported that 300,000 of its 515,000 customers lost power Sunday, Sept. 14.
Here’s the breakdown of DP&L customers without power, day-by-day:
Sept. 15: 300,000
Sept. 16: 200,000
Sept. 17: 105,000
Sept. 18: 80,000
Sept. 19: 65,000
Sept. 20: 51,000
Sept. 21: 38,000
Sept 22: 28,000
Sept. 23: 13,000
Sept. 24: 8,000

My power was restored just as I was getting ready to leave for work Friday night, the 19th. It was then that I discovered that my cable was out. Does the torture never end?

Finally Tuesday night around 5PM two trucks from Time Warner Cable showed up, they spent the next several hours circling the block, working on the wires, finally getting my cable back on at 8:50PM. Supposedly they will credit my bill for the time from 24 hours after the power was restored until the cable was restored, 73+ hours. Personally, I don’t think I should have to pay for any of the time that service was interrupted, but according to the Public Utilities Commission, they are only liable for the time after power was restored. Oh well.

In summation, I would just like to say this to the Tropics:

Keep your damned storms to yourself! We don’t send you our blizzards, do we?

Seriously, there is just something terribly wrong about suffering this sort of inconvenience at the hands of a hurricane/tropical storm while not enjoying any of the benefits of a tropical climate.
That’s all I’m saying.

When it Rains, it Pours (Again)

You may recall me doing some bitching the last time my basement flooded. Well, with the practically non-stop thunderstorms this week, it happened again.

Anyway… I headed out for a ride this evening and kept coming across roads that were closed due to flooding. I took a chance that I could get through on Valley Road (which was “closed”), after all, it hasn’t been raining today. I climb the hill by the airport, speed down the other side and there, up ahead, is the water. As I draw closer I see that there’s a narrow strip down the other side of the road that’s above the water and only a bit wet in places. Onward! I cross 35 and head to Hilltop Road, which also has signs up that it’s closed (flooded). Emboldened by my previous success, I press on. I come to one area which was obviously underwater, but is now completely dry, so my decision is looking better. Then I come to another Road Closed sign. “Uh-oh, this doesn’t bode well.” Then I see that the entire low-lying part of the road which is adjacent to the river is very much underwater.

Dejected, I turn around to seek another way home.

Here’s the thing that ties the two flooded basement incidents together. The last time it happened I had lost my key, but had a spare hidden away. Today I realized early in my ride that I had forgotten my key, which was hanging right where it belongs, right next to the spare, which I hadn’t bothered to return to where it belongs.

I ended up calling a locksmith, who couldn’t pick the lock and had to drill it out. A rather costly lesson for me. Between the service call, and the new lock (re-keyed to match the deadbolt); not returning my ‘emergency key’ to its hiding place cost me $96.30.

As always, everything worked out.

Thursday night they got the furnace running. The water heater was doing its thing in time for me to enjoy a hot shower before work Friday night. And… Sunday my neighbor downstairs called to let me know that she had found my missing house key.

As an added bonus, I just realized that all the rain and flooding should have washed all of the evil salt from the roads, so hopefully I’ll be out rocking the ‘good’ bike wheels this week, with nary a worry that my pristine, practically frictionless bearings will be infiltrated by salt water or my bike otherwise besmirched by unsightly salty grime.

When It Rains, It Pours

Today after considerable time steeling myself for the inevitable horrors of an ice-cold shower, I bit the bullet and took one (with quite a bit of, shall we say, “colorful language” thrown in for good measure). Along the way I discovered something, an ice-cold shower is a sure way to put me in a foul mood. It’s not “exhilarating”, it’s not “invigorating”. It’s horrible, it’s truly awful. It’s just a blindfold away from being actual torture.

Anyway, after doing my best to put this awfulness behind me it was off to the big reference laboratory where they’ll be drawing blood and doing my labwork, some 30 minutes away. I arrived at 3:40 feeling quite pleased with myself until I discovered that they closed at 3:30! Who the Hell, aside from elementary schools, calls it a day a 3:30?!?

So, having accomplished exactly nothing aside from wasting well over an hour driving, I arrived back home. Imagine my delight when I discovered that I didn’t have my house key. After several minutes attempting the old “credit card trick” I concede that I’m going to have to go retrieve my hidden emergency key.

Guess where it’s hidden? In the basement. The same basement that is filled knee-deep with ice-cold water which backed up through the floor drain from the storm sewer. At least when I was done I could rinse off with yet more ice-cold water and bask in my 55° apartment.

And that was my day.

Spring Rains — The Good News and the Bad News

Tuesday and Wednesday it absolutely poured rain, at one point Wednesday evening it even started to snow big fluffy snowflakes. For a brief time everything that wasn’t underwater was coated in snow.

The bad news is that my basement flooded and I therefore have no heat or hot water until they get it pumped out and the various pilot lights can be re-ignited.

The good news? There’s a family of ducks who seem to be having a splendid time swimming around what used to be my back yard.

The Tears of St. Lawrence

Last week our weather was typical of the “dog days” of summer; temps in the mid to upper 90’s (even breaking 100° once or twice, depending on who you believe) with late-afternoon/evening thunderstorms popping up. Consequently my preferred evening ride time kept getting rained out. I kept telling myself I’d put on the headlight and go once it dried out and cooled off, but even that proved problematic. Wednesday night, for instance, it was still 90° at midnight. 90°! At midnight! And soupy-humid too, as an added bonus.

Anyway, Thursday night/Friday morning I was not going to be denied and headed out for a ride about 4am. The temperature was a very pleasant 70 and the humidity was ultra-high (which I really don’t mind at night, as long as it’s cool).

Riding out into the countryside I stopped and switched off my light to appreciate the relative lack of light pollution and the attendant dark skies. There was just the barest sliver of a moon so the stars were in full effect. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness and more and more stars became visible I saw a faint, shimmering shooting star. A few minutes later there was another; apparently the beginnings of this year’s Perseids (which I had forgotten about).

After soaking in the beauty of the night for a bit longer I saddled up, switched my light back on, and rode back into town, rejuvenated. Ain’t life grand?

Not Quite Perfect

I knew the glorious, perfect weather couldn’t last, and alas, it has not.

Am I going to let a little wind and heat keep me off of the bike?
No!
No, of course I’m not. I’m off to ride!

Another Perfect Day, Another Perfect Ride

Click photo to enlarge
If a picture is worth a thousand words, that’ll save me a lot of typing. I’ll just add this:
Is it any wonder this is one of my favorite spots to take a snack break?

Perfect Day for a Ride

Today it was about 70°F (21°C) with bright sun and fluffy white cumulus clouds marching by overhead. There was just enough gusty breeze to keep things interesting, basically as close to perfect riding weather as I would dare to hope for. I don’t mind hot weather (which is good, given that summer seemed to arrive in mid-May this year), but 70-ish seems to be where my motor runs best.

As I was rolling out of town I spotted two wrenches in the road, which I grabbed to add to my collection of road finds.

Later, riding along an otherwise empty country road, I passed another cyclist going the other direction; a gentleman of (I’m guessing) 70+, tan, shirtless, and fit-looking. We exchanged pleasantries and I rode on, grinning a bit wider than before, imagining my future riding off behind me.

The much needed rain we finally got yesterday had everything looking very fresh and green; a Goldfinch paced me for bit before disappearing into the trees. The day just kept getting more perfect!

Turning back toward town, the wind shifted and I glided along effortlessly at 20MPH, all was right in my world.

Back in town, heading home, I did a (rare for me) perfect trackstand at a 4-way stop and the driver whose turn it was actually went.

Harsh reality, as always, awaited. A block later a car coming the other direction starts to turn directly in front of me; the dreaded left cross! He’s coming right at me, I’m going too fast to stop… thankfully his window is down and he hears me shout “Hey!” He jams on the brakes as I’m right in front of him, looking right into his wide, vacant eyes.

“My bad” he says.
“My bad?”
“My bad” is for when your buddy is wide-open under the basket and you don’t pass him the ball. “My bad” is for when you spill your drink. “My bad” is not for when you nearly hit someone with your car. “My bad” in that situation will get you (at a minimum) cursed at. Thankfully, by the time I realized how much that pissed me off, I had cleared the intersection and was riding away (cursing over my shoulder).

I’m glad I’d had an otherwise perfect day, it makes the near-miss much easier to shrug off. I’m also grateful that the near misses are few enough and far enough between that I don’t recall when the last one was. I do know that I’ve put quite a few perfect rides under my wheels since then, however.

Danged Ol’ Weather!

So last night at 11PM it was 63° (that’s 17°C; metric-speakers) and we were under a tornado watch. Tonight it’s 28° (-2°C), still very windy, and spitting snow. Tomorrow the high is only supposed to be 34° (1°C). Apparently the Grinch stole Autumn!