What is it you fancy for lunch when out paddling, hiking, or cycling? Hard bods might be happy with energy drinks and power bars, peanuts and M&M®s. Others take a less austere route and pack the old reliable PB&J, perhaps with a bag of chips and fruit or a candy bar for dessert. For a long time, that was my standard lunch when out for the day, whether for play or when working as a field geologist. And let’s face it, peanut butter and preserves, jelly, or jam sandwiches do a darned good job of filling all the odd corners and supplying energy to keep going for the rest of the afternoon.

But sometimes the plain jane sandwich doesn’t quite hit the proverbial spot. A little imagination and effort pays big dividends. Instead of the same old sandwich, pick something different. Shaved leftover roast beef pairs wonderfully well with scallions, tender young raw spinach leaves, and a thick spread of goat cheese or a tangy ranch dressing. Served on a crusty Kaiser roll or tucked into a split section of French baguette, this sandwich is sure to please.

Slapping something between slices of bread isn’t the only alternative for a picnic lunch, though. How about leftovers from last night’s dinner? Cold fried chicken tenders make for easy finger food on the trail, and with some raw or cooked broccoli and cherry or grape tomatoes, fresh fruit, and a couple cookies or a brownie, you’re sure not to get up hungry. One of my favorite ways to use leftovers for lunch is to roll them in flour tortillas, though corn will do just as well, as will any of the flatbreads that are so popular now. Leftover cooked peppers, onions, and mushrooms are delicious when folded into a tortilla along with a few slices of avocado, shredded lettuce, and a little salsa. Even pepper steak or beef-and-snow pea stir fry taste great in a tortilla. Fusion cuisine at its best.

Putting together a great take-along lunch is one thing, but carrying it is another. Food safety has to be considered, and then there’s the dilemma of keeping everything together in the confines of a backpack or pannier. That’s where lunch boxes come into their own, but I’m not talking about the bulky metal affairs we all had as kids. Most of us can scrounge a good lunch box from the dark corners of our cabinets and closets. With a sturdy lunchbox and a bit of prep work, you’ re good to go. Read more…

Tags: food, lunch, picnic

 
The day was hot and so humid that distant vistas were smeared like a smudged pastel drawing. A stiff wind was in my face, and I cursed at the cyclometer not to drop below 6.5 mph as I cranked at about 60 revs on the steepest portion of the climb. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” I thought. I don’t really believe that sentiment, but it’s hard not to think of it when sweat’s stinging my eyes, my heart’s pounding, and my quads are burning. I was almost at the break in the grade, but that didn’t mean there’d be relief. I had three minutes of hardship ahead of me before that. I was simply coming to the top of the first steep step, and then there would be a less steep but still rising slope of about three percent grade, followed by a longer tough step before the top. And that’s when I heard him.

Another cyclist came even with me on my left, climbing the hill out of the saddle — very hard on the legs, but it maintains speed. He was breathing as hard as I, but he was hauling a lot less weight. I had a box of wine on the rack and a fully outfitted touring bike; he was skinny, and he rode a bike with skinny tires and not one ounce more than was absolutely necessary — no rear rack, no lights, no second water bottle, no fenders. He was a cheerful and encouraging guy. “You’re doing real good,” he gasped. “This is a hard hill,” he muttered as he inched ahead of me, bobbing up and down with each stamping pedal stroke. “One of the hardest!” he blurted before sitting on his saddle and pulling away on the less steep spot. I couldn’t be sure if he was speaking to himself or me, but it was encouraging to see that he wasn’t gaining on me very much.

Whatever route I choose to ride, there’s no gentle glide back. The least difficult route requires climbing about 600 feet over about 12 miles, with one climb over three-quarters of a mile on an average 10 percent grade. To reach my berth, I’ve got to climb hills. Some are long and steep and end with screaming descents that leave brakes smoking. Others are shorter and much steeper with no descent at the end, just a breathless relief that it’s over. Usually I choose the route that ends with a stepped ascent of a pair of short arduous grades. They’re especially fun with 50 pounds of groceries in tow.

Few roads in the northern foothills of the Adirondack Mountains are level for any distance. The best a tired cyclist can hope for is gentle winds and a rolling stretch of state highway (with heavy traffic to endure) or secondary roads that parallel the state highways, and which come complete with mongrel dogs, deep cracks and potholes in the road, and the occasional speeding vehicle piloted by a driver who’s more interested in talking on a cell phone than watching for cyclists.

Still, this is a great area for cycling, when it’s not snowing. You can ride for miles without interruption by a stop sign, never mind a stoplight. Pleasing surroundings make enduring winds and hills easier. You like pastoral farmland? It’s here. Woods and rivers and ponds? Those too. The hills build strong legs and condition the cardiovascular system. Steep grades may be hard work, and fast descents can be a mixed blessing, but that’s what brakes and all those gears are for. And there’s always the option of walking.

This last week, I rode some roads that make it plain WHY there are so many undulating routes — if you know what it is you’re looking at. As little as 12,000 years ago (“little” being a relative term), this area was covered with glaciers. In the closing days of the Ice Age, glaciers melted and receded north. As they ground their way out of the area, they left behind a thick blanket of loose sediments. Meltwater rivers distributed such sediment far and wide, and a lot of it accumulated in poorly-drained areas. The result? Piles of sediment — elongate hills called drumlins, sinuous raised riverbeds called eskers, and high-and-dry deltas that once were drowned under glacial lakes and inland seas. As those seas and lakes drained away, the exposed deltas were further dissected by rivers and streams, by wind and rain, snow and ice.

Today, as I ride my bike up steep grades and swoop back down the other side, I’m reminded of the countless streams and rivers which carved gullies that became the vegetated valleys we see today. When I see a deep gravel or sand pit, I think of the briny or fresh waters which covered the area, and of the animals that lived in those waters. Every so often, a seal or whale or other marine animal’s skeleton is found in those deposits, reminders of a long ago time before man inhabited the area. For this geologist, these reminders are rewarding. But you don’t have to be a geologist to enjoy the cycling, though a knowledge of our geologic past enhances every trip. Read more about remnants of the last Ice Age…

Tags: cycling, geology, Ice Age

 
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Tags: Let's Paddle! Canoeing, Kayaking, & Sit-on-Topping, sit-on-tops, SOTs