56 Homes

I am up to 21 congregations visited, and I'm feeling like I am no longer just starting out on this journey.  One thing that has really struck me in my many visits is that fact that I truly do have 56 homes in the State of New Hampshire.  Home is a very powerful concept.  It is a place where you are always welcome; where you can find family and friends; where you are free to be who you truly are.  I have felt this sense of home in one way or another in every church I have visited so far.  At times I have thought it might be nice to have a second home, a place to get away, enjoy some peace and quiet.  Some people are fortunate enough to have several homes scattered around the country or around the world.  This journey has made me realize that I have hundreds of homes all around the world.  So do you.  Fifty six of them are right here in our fine state.  We are very fortunate indeed.

It's been a busy fall, and one thing that it has taken it's toll on is blogging.  In order to get caught up, I've got a quick review below of the October and November EBP stops.

9/25 - EBP stop #17:  St. John's Portsmouth

This is a familiar ride for me.  My folks live in Newcastle, right next to Portsmouth, and I have ridden to their house a number of times.  There were several fun things about this visit:

1) I got to ride down with Philip Pancoast, of St. Matthew's, who volunteered to join me.  He's a pretty strong rider (although he'll deny it), and he kept the pace up and got us to St. John's about 20 mins early.

2) I got to talk to the Sunday School kids before the service, including my nephew Jack, who attends St. John's.  They had great questions!

3) I got to sit with my brother Mike and his mother-in-law, as well as Sarah, who were all there that day.

4) I heard a great sermon by The Rev. Jeff Thornberg, in which he somehow managed to tie in the book & movie "The Help" with the Gospel.  I subsequently listened to "The Help" audio book, which was very moving.  I am still thinking about it and my perception of people of different races & backgrounds from me.

5) The Rev. Rob Stevens invited me up in front of the whole church at announcements, bike and all, to tell my story.

6) I got to talk to a whole bunch of people at coffee hour, including some folks who run their meal program, called "Common Table".  It's a neat program where they invite local chefs to help cook for people in need in the community.

The stats (all approx - from memory) | distance: 90 miles | Average speed:  17 mph | Average HR: 145 | Total climb: 2000 ft

10/2 - EBP stop #1A:  St. Matthew's Goffstown

I went to my home parish, St. Matt's, on this Sunday because the Bishop was visiting; it was good to be back at St. Matt's.  Of course, Gene is always inspiring and the energy of the parish was great.  Also, I was able to get signatures on my shirt from the "home folks", since I didn't have my official jersey when I embarked from there back in May.   Since it was the Bishop's visit and I went by bike in my EBP uniform, I am calling this stop #1A of the project.

The stats | Distance: 19.9 miles | Average Speed: 17 mph | Average Heart Rate: 154 bpm | Total Climb: 900 ft

10/9 - The Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels, Los Angeles - see separate post

10/16 - EBP stop #18:  St. John the Baptist Sanbornville

This was the first relatively long ride since Berlin.  It was quite hilly.  I was paying close attention to my body and making sure I paced myself appropriately.  I managed OK - a small victory.

St. John the Baptist (or SJTB as they call it) is led by The Rev. Sue Poulin, who sits with me on the Mission Resources Committee.  She's a great soul, a good thinker, and a real asset to the committee.  The church seemed a bit subdued, which was understandable; I later found out that a longtime parishioner and the matriarch of the congregation had just passed away that week.  They had a music director who played a soprano saxophone as accompaniment to the choir and organ; not something you hear every day.   At coffee hour, I learned about their feeding program, one aspect of which where they bring meals to some folks who live in a motel a few miles up the road from the church.  This was the first time I heard of a church going and seeking out people in need rather than waiting for them to come the to church.  I also spent some time with Sue touring their day school, a community pre-school and after school program that they run, which is housed in a former rectory that they have converted.

The Stats | Distance: 114.3 | Average Speed: 14.8 mph | Average Heart Rate: 138 bpm | Total Climb: 6600 ft

10/23 - back at St. Matt's to lead a roadside cleanup (sadly, I drove)

10/30 - Snow!  The first cancellation of an EBP ride due to weather.  I had planned to go to St. James Keene.

11/7 - EBP stop #19:  St. James Keene

Similar to my trip to Sanbornville, Keene was a substantial one day ride and promised to have lots of hills.  It did not disappoint.  The interesting thing is that rather than lots of shorter ups and downs like going across to Sanbornville or up through the lakes region, this ride had a couple of very long ups, each followed by a nice long downhill run.  It was 21 degrees (F) when I left my house at 6 AM.  This is cold.  I was expecting about 30 degrees, and I threw on an extra layer on top at the last minute and was glad I did.  Still, I was pretty chilled for the first few hours, as I urged the temperature readout on my bike speedometer upward.  Magically, about 2 hours in, it jumped up into the mid 30's and all of a sudden I was warm.  Sunshine works many wonders.  The climbs up and over the Temple Mountain pass and up through Dublin were long and arduous, but I really enjoyed the long downhills into Peterborough and Keene respectively.  It was a rewarding 4 hours on the bike, and I walked into the church just as the first chord of the processional was sounding on the organ.

The people of Keene were very welcoming.  The Rev. Mark Jenkins performed 3 baptisms that day; All Saints Sunday is a big day for baptisms.  The church is active in the community, and we talked about that at coffee hour.   It seemed like a nice vibrant congregation, with people of all ages.  One cool thing was a jazz band that was practicing after the service.  They had about 8 or ten people playing a variety of woodwinds, brass, and percussion; it sounded pretty good.  I guess they have a variety of groups that perform in worship regularly in addition to the traditional choir accompanied by the organ.  Mark told me they even managed to work some Miles Davis in once.   After getting a number of new signatures for my shirt, I hit the road again.  I took a different route home, through Hancock, Francestown, and New Boston, a beautiful tour of small town New Hampshire.  It was no less hilly than the ride out, but enjoyable nonetheless.  

The Stats | Distance: 116 miles | Avg Speed: 14.6 mph | Avg Heart Rate: 143 bpm | Total Climb:  6900 ft

11/13 - Sunday off - at a meeting for my work in Palm Springs, CA

11/20 - EBP stop #20: Trinity Church, Hampton

This was a special visit, because the rector at Trinity is Kathleen Cullen, who hails from Goffstown, and who started her path to the priesthood at St. Matthew's.  I was on her aspirancy committee, and got to know her through that process.  She was ordained several years ago, and has been searching for a congregation since then.  About 4 weeeks ago she started an interesting new call to two parishes in the seacoast area that have agreed to share a clergy person: Trinity, Hampton and Christ Church, Portsmouth.   This poses some unique challenges, like the need to be in two places at once on a Sunday.  The two congregations have staggered their service times somewhat, but Kathleen's partner Mary literally has the car warmed up and running waiting in the street outside of Trinity at the end of the 8:45 service to get her up to Portsmouth (about a 20 minute drive) in time for the 10:30 service there.  

The ride down and back was pleasant; I have ridden to the seacoast many times, so it was mostly familiar territory.  Kathleen gave a great sermon, highlighting the fact that good works don't curry favor with God.  Rather our good works are our response to the fact that we already are by definition in God's good graces.  I've always been surprised at the number of "church" people who see that point differently.  It is fundamental to my spiritual understanding.  Anyway, it was great to see Kathleen and Mary and catch up with them briefly before service.  I chatted with several folks at coffee hour; there is a strong need to sort out the clergy sharing arrangement.   Because she needs to leave for Portsmouth, Kathleen isn't getting time to spend with the Trinity folks after service, and they miss that.  But they are early in the engagement, and I'm sure they will work things out in good time.

The stats | Distance: 70.0 miles | Avg Speed: 14.7 mph | Avg Heart Rate: 141 bpm | Total Climb: 4000 ft

11/27 - EBP stop #21:  Trinity Church, Tilton

The Sunday after Thanksgiving was a cold damp day.  Predicted to be in the high 30's and climbing into the balmy 40's not too long into my ride, I spent the entire time urging the thermometer to move up a notch from 32.  Moisture was condensing on my glasses and jacket, driving the cold deep inside and defying any pedal generated heat to warm me.  I was very happy to get to Trinity and lean my bike up against a heater in the vestibule and soak in the warmth.  

I love how every church I have been to is different.  Trinity was wider than most, more square than rectangular in layout, with somewhat low-backed pews with comfortable cushions.  It almost seemed more like a theatre than a church.  The Rev. Mark Kozielec talked about the Nova series "Fabric of the Cosmos" and how in it time is described as not necessarily the linear sequence of events that we think it is, and then tied that to the rather apocalyptic Gospel for last Sunday talking about the end times.  I enjoy hearing about physics in church; it doesn't happen very often.  Later Mark and I talked about more practical things at Trinity like some neat community service projects they are working on.  By the time I hit the road for the ride back the temperature was in the 40s and climbing.  I had a much better ride back, feeling much more energetic from the lack of chill.  Not bad for a late November edition of the EBP.

The stats | Distance: 70.1 miles | Avg Speed: 15.6 mph | Avg Heart Rage: 140 bpm | Total Climb: 3800 ft

With the Help of Family, Friends, and Strangers

Blogger's note: I wrote this a month or so ago, and with the business of life catching up with me, never posted it.  Please forgive me, but better late than never.

In early September I realized that Fall was creeping up on us, and that I had only a few more opportunities left to get up to the north country.  When it is in the 50's in Manchester, it could be in the 30's north of the notches, particularly in the mornings and evenings, which makes it a challenge to do the 100+ mile rides required to get up that way.  That is a long way of saying that Sunday, September 11th was my last opportunity to get up to Berlin this year.  Fran Gardner-Smith, the rector at St. Barnabas, and my friend and compatriot on the MRC, offered to have me stay at her house Saturday night, avoiding any crazy overnight riding like I did when I went to Whitefield.  So, the plan was to ride up Saturday, stay with her, go to church at St. B's on Sunday, then head home.  That was the plan anyway.

The ride should have taken around 10 hours, so if I left at 10 AM I could get there buy 8 PM.  I was hoping to squeeze it down to 9 hours so that I didn't keep Fran and her husband David waiting for dinner.  We had some work that needed to be done around the house, so I didn't hit the road until 10:40.   About a 1/2 mile from my house I went through my mental checklist to make sure I didn't forget anything.  I remembered that I had taken my tool pouch off the bike after the hurricane ride to dry it out.  Did I remember to put it back on?  I reach down beneath the seat.  Nope, not there.  Damn.  I Turn around, go back home, dash in, grab the tools, say goodbye to Sarah again, and get back on the road.  The new departure time: 10:50.  It was not a good omen.

The first few hours seemed to go just fine, although on several occasions I looked at my heart rate and it was in the 150's, not the 130's like usual.  Strange, it was more hilly than I expected, and a light headwind was building up, but still, the heart rate didn't seemed to match my perceived exertion.  After about 4 hours I started to feel the effects of pushing this hard.  I felt really drained and a bit nauseous.  But, I was making decent time, and I didn't want to slow down because I didn't want to get to Fran's too late.  She and  David already offered to pick me up in Berlin to save me the additional 10 miles and 500 feet of climbing up to their house in Milan.  So, in the interest of time, I made a few quick rest stops, got a reload of water in my camelback, and plodded on.   But, as I went each hill was getting harder and harder to climb and i was pedaling slower and slower.  Finally, about  3 miles outside of North Conway I had to stop on a small embankment by the side of the road, barely covered in scraggly grass. Not a great resting place, but it would have to do.  About 15 minutes lying flat on my back gave me enough recovery so I could fight my way into town.  I figured I'd find a place to get a bite to eat and take the time to cool down and rest.   I had been eating carbohydrate gels and some other "performance" food as I rode, but now I was craving some real food.  Back on the bike, I was cruising down a small hill that led down to all of the strip malls on the south side of North Conway; another mile or two to go.  I reached up to adjust my sunglasses, except there was one  problem:  they weren't there.  Damn; left them on the embankment.  Deja Vu all over again.  These were really nice sunglasses that Sarah had given me as a gift, so I had no choice but to turn around and go back and get them, which involved several small hill climbs, no mean feat given my state of fatigue.  Thankfully the glasses were still there, I grabbed them, and turned once again to the north.  The problem was the trip back had really knocked the stuffing out of me.  I felt horrible, and was getting more nauseous with each pedal stroke.  I'll spare you all the gory details, but the next few hours were spent dealing with what turned out to be some pretty serious dehydration and low blood sugar.  

I called Fran and explained my predicament.  Luckily she and David were gracious enough to drive an hour down to Jackson and pick me up, where I was alternately walking and riding my bike slowly northward through the darkness.  The winding roads from the backseat of a car weren't much better than struggling on the bike, but eventually we made it to Fran's place in Milan.  Once there I got a shower, got into dry clothes, and began to re-hydrate.  I felt a ton better.  In fact I was better enough to eat a really nice locally sourced steak dinner (including tomatoes from 

Fran's garden) followed by some really good chocolate (that I need to get the online source from David).  All that was combined with great conversation about St. Barnabas, the Episcopal Church, and life in general.  It was a terrific end to what had been one of my roughest days on the bike.  Fran and David were true saviors that day.  I can't imagine what I would have done if I would have had to struggle up over Pinkham Notch in my state.  On top of that they were such great hosts; I am so very thankful for their hospitality.

The next day I felt much better, and had a great breakfast with the Gardner-Smiths before I enjoyed a beautiful downhill pedal back to Berlin.  It was a cool crisp morning, about 45 degrees, with fog yielding to bright sunshine as I rode south alongside the Androscoggin River.  Very nice.   I got to St. Barnabas in time for their bible study before service, which was an opportunity to preview the lessons for the day and meet a few members of the congregation.  At the service, David gave the sermon.  He is also a minister, retired from another Protestant denomination (I'm forgetting exactly which one).  He has a dramatic style of speaking, which is somewhat unusual in an Episcopal Church, and refreshing to listen to.  The folks at St. Barnabas were very welcoming.  At coffee hour I spent some time talking with their organist, Susan Ferré, who showed me at least 4 different organs they have in the building, including two small portable cabinet instruments with two stops, and a pedal pumped attachment to their Bedient organ.  I got a chance to try pumping as she played; fun!  The people of St. Barnbas do real work in their community, serving food, hosting a teen center, and being a source of hope in a community that has drawn the economic short straw for a number of years as the lumber industry has declined in northern New Hampshire.  It was uplifting to spend time with them, and a reminder of what we are called to do as the church.

After coffee hour I got back on the road and continued my way back South.  Wanting to be sure to avoid the maladies of the previous day I kept my heart rate low and was mindful of my level of exertion.  But, I was determined to get myself up and over Pinkham Notch, a 2000 ft climb that I had to do the day before in the back seat of Fran's car.  I took it easy, and made several stops on my way up the climb, then enjoyed a good stretch at the Pinkham Notch visitor's center.  After that it was a deliciously long zoom down the hill into Jackson and North Conway.  Downhill is really fun when you've earned it.  So far, so good.  The day ended with pounding out what I call "gratuitous hills", up and downs that don't significantly change your elevation, but instead wear you down with their never ending and seemingly random pitches.  Given the previous day's debacle, I was pretty well cooked by the time I got to Wolfboro, so I called Sarah and she kindly drove nearly an hour to pick me up.  It also got me home in time so I could eat Sunday dinner with my family.  It ended up being only 190 miles instead of 250, but I made it home in one piece.

The experience of that weekend had made me reflect on the many people who have helped me and supported me on this journey.  Some, like Fran, David, and Sarah have provided direct support: feeding me, providing a bed to sleep in, picking me up when I can't ride any more, rearranging schedules so my riding can fit into family life, blog editing, and of course supplying an endless stream of encouragement.   But I also have to note the many strangers that I have met that have helped me on my way, like the group of ATV'ers north of Franklin who let me fill up my camelback from their hose, or the guy in the store in Plymouth who got me a bunch of ice on a hot day, or Keith Owen, the priest in Whitefield who welcomed me in and invited me to have pancakes with his family and friends.  So many people have buoyed me on this journey.  This adventure has taken on a life of its own; it is a substantially bigger commitment than I thought it ever would be.  But, with the gracious support of family, friends, and total strangers, I know I will make it to all 56 congregations, and I am very grateful for all of the support.

The stats:

Distance: 188.3 miles

Average speed: 14.4 mph

Average heart rate: 131bpm

Total climb: 8,300 ft

Newsflash: Episcopalians do not have an exclusive on beautiful and meaningful liturgy!

I must admit, I'm an Episcopal snob.  I grew up in the Roman Catholic church, and it always seemed so dead.  Our peaked little church in the town I grew up was always out of money, and if the sermons weren't badgering the congregation to give more, they were sermons guilting us in some way or another, or lamenting why so few young men wanted to pursue the priesthood.  There was no choir; the music seemed lifeless.  They did try to liven it up with a a folk/rock band occasionally (my middle school music teacher was one of the musicians), but it never resonated with me.  Yes, there were flashes of inspiration every once in while; I remember one particularly good assistant priest who was at the church for a year or two, but the Pope deemed him to be more valuable to the Catholic church in another parish.  For his replacement, I think we got the former librarian from the Diocesan offices in Rochester.  Nice guy, but not exactly engaging to a somewhat contrarian and questioning teenager.  When I went away to school, I was ready to shake the dust of the Catholic church, and all churches, off of my feet.  Instead I decided to worship the god of science and technology.  It was a perfectly fulfilling god for a little while.  

But after I graduated and entered the working world I became very much spiritually lost.  I was living alone, didn't have a lot of close friends, and my career path at work and my life in general didn't seem to be going anywhere.  My saving grace was the appearance of the woman who would eventually become my wife.  When it was time for us to marry, she dragged me kicking and screaming to the local Episcopal Church, Christ Church in Redondo Beach, California.  Not fully understanding what had just happened, I had no use for a church, but agreed to tolerate it because I knew I was enough of a traditionalist that I wanted to get married in some kind of church.  At Christ Church, over the space of a few Sundays, my heart softened, and I found around me things that had been missing for years.  For one there was community; people like my wife and me, young couples getting started on their life journeys.   There was a spiritual existence, meaningful discourse, and of course beautiful music.  I was blown away when I learned more about the workings of the Episcopal Church.  You mean the congregation gets to choose their own clergy?  And the Diocese elects its own Bishop?  They have conventions where they discuss and debate issues central and some not so central to the life of the church.  Scripture, tradition, reason - great values that speak to the balance that is so vital to a meaningful life.   I was sold.  This is what Church was meant to be.

So over the years, moving from California to New Hampshire, and continuing my involvement with the Episcopal Church, I became convinced that the Episcopalians got it right.  Don't get me wrong; I firmly believe there are many spiritual disciplines, and all are a path to God for those that practice them.  As I said in an earlier post, you can't convince me that billions of Muslims or Hindus or Buddhists are fundamentally wrong.  But, I still had this sense that the Episcopal faith was somehow better, perhaps more meaningful, providing a more real glimpse of God than those others.  The few times that I worshipped outside of the Episcopal Church reinforced that perception.  Particularly the times I was in a Catholic church.  But that was because that was what i wanted to see; if you put on yellow sunglasses, guess what? The whole world is going to look yellow.  Yep, the Catholic church was still dead.  And my perception of the virtues of the Episcopal Church was reinforced by the other places I visited in Episcopaldom.  In visiting places like the National Cathedral in Washington DC, or the Cathedral in Portland, Maine on Christmas Eve, or having the privilege of worshiping with our Bishop, Gene Robinson, and of course being at my wonderful home church in Goffstown, I saw the great aliveness of this church.  In fact, experiences like these were the motivation for the Episcopal Bike Project that this blog is chronicling.

So, it was with not some small amount of reluctance that I agreed to go to a Catholic service this past Sunday.  This time it was at the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels in downtown Los Angeles.  We went out to LA for the long weekend to get away and visit some very dear old friends.  They had invited us to go with them to downtown LA on Sunday, first to go to church at the Cathedral, then get some lunch at a delightful outdoor restaurant, followed by a LA Philharmonic concert at the magnificent Walt Disney Concert Hall.  It seemed like a great plan, except I wasn't too crazy about Catholic church.  My preference would have been go back to Christ Church, and perhaps bump into some of our former contingent from years ago.  But, this time, partly at Sarah's urging, I kept an open mind and went along with the plan.  It was magnificent.  The Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels is very new, completed in 2003, and very modern.  It is huge, seating several thousand, and is beautiful in design and construction.  When we walked in we heard the choir warming up and practicing the John Rutter setting of the 23rd psalm.  It is a contemporary piece of music and not something I expected to hear in a Catholic church.  The choir sounded great and the organ was simply unbelievable.  A cantor came out before the service and taught the congregation some new service music.  He was a terrific musician as well.  The opening hymn was one very familiar to me, straight out of the 1982 Hymnal.  So far, so good, definitely not the Catholic church of my youth.  But, the highlight of the service was the sermon, given by Monsignor Kevin Kostelnik.   I'll spare you the details, because this blog entry is getting too long as it is, but it was uplifting, educational, and personal.  He delivered it extremely well, moving in and amongst the congregation, not reading dryly from a pulpit (like I have experienced in more than a few Episcopal services).  The most salient point was related to the Gospel that we had just heard, the story of the King who held a banquet but whose guests refused to come.  Monsignor Kevin reminded us that we are invited to the banquet every day, and all we have to do is recognize the invitation.  In fact it is our imperative to recognize the invitation; the banquet is all around us all the time.  It was very apropos, since the invitation to this particular banquet I would have turned down if it had been left to my own devices.  In the twenty plus years since Sarah dragged me kicking and screaming to Christ Church there have been a handful of services that I have been to that have been deeply moving and are etched in my spiritual memory.  This past Sunday will almost certainly be one of them, and it wasn't even in an Episcopal Church.

p.s. - if you are ever in the Los Angeles area on a Sunday, I highly recommend a visit to The Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels:.  After service, go take a look at the organ console, the altar, the crucifix, and the tapestries.  If you are lucky like we were, you might get an impromptu tour from a docent who sings in the choir.

p.p.s - I also highly recommend a concert at Walt Disney Concert Hall.  It is a surreal Frank Gehry building, beautiful in design and construction and with phenomenal acoustics.  We were sitting in the back of the second balcony and we could hear the soloist like she was 10 feet away.

p.p.p.s - yes, I am behind on a few entries from previous Sundays.  They are not forgotten and are in the works.

Life Is So Good

A few weeks back I wrote about periodic communities, and another one of sorts that we are a member of is a group of families that get together every year for a camping trip.  We have been doing this for the past 13 years, and the past 3 or 4 we have been going to Pawtuckaway State Park over Labor Day weekend.  The dads of this group used to all work together, the moms had a play group going for several years, and the children are close in age and more of less grew up together.  We don't see each other as much as we used to, so it's fun to catch up each year and see how everyone is doing.  The size of the group is starting to shrink a bit as kids go off to college, but I have a hunch we'll be doing this for quite a few more years to come.

Since Pawtuckaway is about 15 miles east of Manchester, we decided to go to a church further to the east, in Durham, about 20 miles from the park.   Once again Sarah and I did the jaunt on my brother's tandem.  It's pretty hilly around the park, and we did some good climbing and then enjoyed a long 40+ mph downhill to the flatter area towards the seacoast.  This was the first ride that we had extra familial participation:  Cathy Menard, a member of St. Paul's Concord and the Diocesan Finance Officer met us at St. George's.   It's very cool to see another person in bike garb in the pews in church.

Sarah and I were pushing pretty hard to get to St. George's on time.  We made it with 3 minutes to spare.  I was a sweaty mess, no time to stretch, just get inside, find a bathroom, put on the EBP bike jersey (I don't wear it on the rides anymore because my sweat makes the signatures run), and get in a pew.  I quickly said hello to the Rev. Michael Bradley as I rushed into the church.  He seemed to take it all in stride.  It was a great service.  There was a descant on one of the hymns, so Sarah got to strut her stuff a bit, always a treat.  When she does that, I just stop singing and bask in the beauty of her voice.  Life is so good.  Being in a college town, St. George's does some cool stuff on campus, including hosting undergrad and graduate student groups.  They also have a forum between the 8 and 10 services where they invite professors and other interesting folks from the campus community to speak.  Very cool; I'm going to have to catch one of those sometime.  Michael seems to be the perfect campus ministry guy; I love the energy of a college town.  We talked to a number of people at coffee hour; one person told me that she was inspired by what I was doing.  Inspired.  Wow, I never expected that..  Maybe this thing is going to have some impact after all.

We rode part way back to the park with Cathy and her partner Betsy, cruising along back roads enjoying a sunny warm New Hampshire Sunday afternoon.  We had to climb back up the hill to Nottingham center, payback for the zoom down a few hours earlier.  After a few more up and downs we enjoyed one last downhill back into the park, then a dip in the lake to cool off.  It was a perfect New Hampshire day.  Life is so good.

The stats:

average speed: N/A (we need to get a cyclometer on the tandem)

dist: approx 40 miles

total climb: N/A

average HR: ?  (i forgot to write it down)

26 Miles With Irene

On Sunday August 28th Irene showed her lovely face in New Hampshire.   That day I did 130 miles the really easy way:  I rode 104 miles in our minivan.  But, I made up for it by riding the other 26 miles through a hurricane, a first for me.  We were just wrapping up our vacation in Lyme (see the prior week's post), and the original plan was for me to ride to Woodsville, about 26 miles, then ride all the way back to Manchester, a little over 100 miles further.  My family would pack up and meet me back home.  On Wednesday that week my wife informed me: "You know, there's a hurricane coming, and it's supposed to hit up here this weekend."  Oh.  So, I spent the rest of the week watching the weather, wondering if I would be able to pull off the plan.  I was thinking if the hurricane just slowed down a little bit, I'd be able to sneak in the ride before the weather got really horrendous.  And, if the wind pulled around to the north, it would practically blow me home.  What could be better?  Well, as I looked at the weather each day, the forecast got worse.  Heavy rain, winds around 40 miles per hour, out of the East and Southeast, more or less right on the nose.  40 miles per hour is enough to stop you dead in your tracks and/of blow you clear off the road.  Nope, not going to try that.  So, we revised the plan.  I'd still ride to Woodsville where Sarah would pick me up after service and we'd drive back to Lyme, grab our boat and bikes, and head back to Manchester.  Not ideal, but at least I'd get to experience Woodsville.  Secretly I hoped that the storm would slow down a bit and I would be able to get up there before the rain and the wind, very wishful thinking.  At about midnight Saturday, we heard the distinctive sound of steady rain on the roof of the cabin.  I tossed and turned as I thought about riding the next morning, and when the time came to go, it was no better.  It's a weird thing when you have to head out to ride in the rain.  You know you will be soaked 5 minutes after you hit the road, but you still put it off and try to stay dry as long as you possibly can.  I cowered under an umbrella as we walked down the hill to breakfast.  But, after a quick bite it was time to get going.  Of course I got the expected question from folks as I put on my shoes and helmet: "Your going to ride in that?,"  as they pointed to the steady wind blown rain outside. 

Once I got going, I settled into a groove.  The bike felt good, the rain wasn't too bad.  There was only one problem: I was slow.  The wind was steadily picking up, and instead of being out of the ESE, it was straight from the North, at least as far as I could tell.  I don't know how fast, but it was easily 15 gusting to 20 by the time I got to Woodsville.  This may not sound like a lot, but it is a huge drag, both figuratively and literally to push through this kind of wind, particularly with steady rain stinging the face.  The other problem was that I miscalculated the distance, thinking it was only 23 miles.   The extra three miles and the lower speed were going to make me late.  We were late last week; I didn't want to do that again.  So I pushed as hard as I could, still barely averaging 15 mph, and made it into church just as the organist started the entrance Hymn.  It was a pretty thin crowd, given the storm and the fact that Woodsville is a small congregation anyway.  I stood out like a sore thumb given the fact that I was a wet and dirty mess, which was fine.  This was an accepting crowd.   I got to introduce myself at announcements and got a number of signatures at coffee hour.  Then, the broom wagon showed up right on schedule and I abandoned the ride, at least for the day anyway.  Unlike in the real Tour (de France), in this one you can get a lift and still go back to ride another day.  In the end, it was very wise not to try to ride home.  Irene was a serious storm, and regardless of the wind, there might not have been a road for me to ride on.  Not to mention, I shouldn't be out there needlessly putting myself at risk.  Our police and fire departments had plenty to do without having to rescue some knucklehead who decided to ride 100+ miles through a hurricane.  26 was enough.

The stats:

average speed: 15.1 mph

dist: 26.4 mi

total climb: 1200 ft

avg heart rate: 148

Periodic Communities

We are vacationing this week in Lyme, NH at a place called Loch Lyme Lodge (www.lochlymelodge.com).  Loch Lyme Lodge is a type of vacation spot sometimes referred to as a cottage colony or a family camp.  There are approximately 20 cabins available for rent and a farmhouse where you can go for meals.  There is a lake to swim in, plenty of water craft available to paddle around in, fields to play in, and woods to hike in.  There are tennis courts, a basketball court, and a ping pong cabin where there is a hot round robin tournament most nights that we are here.  There is a small library in town where you can always find a few good books to read; it's gotten to be our first outing as soon as we arrive each year.  Loch Lyme is rustic.  There are no TV's or phones in the cabins, no heavenly beds with 300 thread count sheets, and no marble bathrooms with luxury toiletries.  This place has been operating as a family camp for around 100 years, and it shows its age, but in a good way.  It has character and charm.   It's a terrific place for kids, which is why we started coming here 14 years ago when my kids were little.  We always come the same week each summer, and a number of other families with kids of similar age also come the very same week.  These kids have grown up together, albeit only for only one week each year, and the families have become good friends.  The interesting thing is that given its rustic nature, Loch Lyme self selects people with the same values, values of family, friends, outdoors, peace and quiet, relaxation, and play.   Some people come here and hate it and never come back.  Some, like us, keep coming back for a lifetime because the values and the experience resonate with us.  Which curiously is not unlike our churches.  They too are periodic communities, gathering once a week rather than once a year, drawing people with similar (spiritual) values who come together to celebrate those values.  The question is do we celebrate values of community, welcome, family, openness, and thanksgiving that make people want to stay for a lifetime?   Or do we celebrate values of "clubbiness", closed community, secret ritual, obligation, and "we've always done it that way" that make newcomers want to run for the door?

Since we were in Lyme, we opted last Sunday to go to St. Thomas in Hanover, a short 12 mile bike ride away.  It was great to have my whole family join in on the trek, setting a record of 5 for participation in an EBP ride.  The ride was along the spectacular back roads of the upper Connecticut River valley, one of the most lovely places I have ever ridden.  Unfortunately, we were delayed in our start from the lodge, so we didn't arrive until halfway through the Old Testament reading.  Showing up late, we did the EPB in "low key" mode, foregoing any announcement or hooplah in church.  Instead we chatted folks up at coffee hour, added some signatures to the shirt, and talked quite a bit about the Bishop search process.  Sarah is on the Bishop Search Committee, and I had the pleasure to meeting one of her committee compatriots, Gene Garthwaite, who is also a member of the Vestry at St. Thomas.  The Bishop search effort is a hot topic in our churches, which is a very good thing.  An organization says a lot about itself in the way it handles leadership succession, and I think the Diocese of New Hampshire is speaking volumes in the way it is handling this one.  The search and transition committees are all staffed with solid leaders from all around the Dioceses who are following a well laid out process openly and transparently, with appropriate confidentiality where it is required.  With this group in charge, I can't imagine anything other than a slate of great candidates and an affirming election.  Interestingly, one of the people we were talking to at St. Thomas had been through two Bishop searches in another Diocese.  One search was executed similarly to the one we are undergoing here, with a clear and well adhered to process, while in the other search the process was not rigorously adhered to, and included a number of private meetings, lobbying, and "back room" conversations.   Needless to say, one had a very positive experience and outcome, and one did not.

Finally, for all of the organ geeks like me, one note about the instrument at St. Thomas:  While listening to the organ, I noticed it produced a very full sound, yet there were only a relatively small set of pipes set on two shelves on the wall behind the altar.  There was no way those pipes were making all that sound.  There were also a number of speakers mounted on the walls around the sanctuary which seemed much larger than would be required for a PA system.  After the service I talked with the organist, who explained that the organ is a hybrid, with some stops running physical pipes, and some stops being produced digitally and played through the speakers.  The interesting thing is that the pitch of the pipes changes day to day based on temperature and humidity, but the digital stops do not.  So he has a means of adjusting the tune of the digital stops to match the pipes, which he has to do each day before he plays.  It is very well done, and I could not tell at all which notes were coming from which system, an impressive merging of old and new technology.

The beautiful back roads of the
Upper Valley

On Cheating, Religion, and What It's All About

This past Sunday I rode down to my last summer chapel for this year: St. Andrew's by the Sea in Rye.  Yet another church I had driven past, marveled at, and swore I'd visit someday.  Now I have visited it; this bike project is certainly meeting that objective.  That day there was a family gathering at my folks' house in New Castle, and I was going to ride over there directly from St. Andrew's.  Sarah and the kids would meet me there and I would get a lift back.  In the end it saved me about 30 miles.  I am somewhat ambivalent about doing these types of segments where I ride to the church but only part of the way back.  It feels a bit like cheating; somehow I feel like I really should be riding every mile.  On the other hand, no one is really keeping track, it doesn't detract from the experience as far as I can tell, and it allows me to fit this in with other family obligations.  So, I've come to the conclusion that I should lighten up a bit and take the lift when it is readily available.  I did it a few weeks ago when I rode to St. Paul's from Hopkinton and then got a ride home.  We have several other cheats planned.  Next week we are going to Hanover from Lyme where we will be vacationing; it'll be 20 miles round trip instead of 140.  The cool thing is that riding the shorter version will allow my whole family to join me, so the EBP will be a record 5 people that day.  The following Sunday I am going to ride from Lyme to Woodsville, only about 30 miles, but then ride the 100 miles all the way home to Manchester.  It'll take 70 miles out of what would have been a 200 mile journey.  So I guess a little cheating is OK; I've come to terms with it.

St. Andrew's is a beautiful stone chapel.  The interior beam structure and roof have just been re-finished and it looks stunning.  They have a tradition of having different musicians accompany the organist each Sunday.  Last Sunday it was cellist Dorothy Braker who who's sonorous music beautifully filled the sanctuary.  The Rev. Jay MacLeod was the priest for the day.  He hails from Bedford, England, but grew up in the Seacoast area and leads worship at St. Andrew's occasionally when he is in town.  He spoke of his parish in England, which is Queens Park, a racially and religiously diverse neighborhood of Bedford.  The various religious institutions there work together to minister to the local community.  One interesting program they do is a faith tour for local schools where they visit a Gurdwara (a Sikh place of worship), a Mosque, and All Saints Church.  Hopefully by creating familiarity and knowledge about these institutions they can break down some of the fear and suspicion that later leads to conflict.  He talked about this in light of the Gospel for last Sunday, the story of the Canaanite woman.  In this story Jesus ministered to someone outside of the Israelite (Jewish) community for the first time; very much taboo in that day.  This sermon resonated with me.  I have always believed that all religions are ultimately pursuing the same thing, call it God, call it Allah, call it enlightenment, call it peace, whatever.  We would be very well served if we could put our religions aside and realize that we are all on the same spiritual quest.  How can we as Christians say that the 3, 4, or 5 billion Muslims, Hindus, and Buddhists are wrong?  The real mission is to convince people not to follow mindless religious dogma, or the mindless pursuit of stuff, both of which numb us to our true calling.  BTW - All Saints has a great website: http://www.allsaintsbedford.co.uk, I recommend taking a look.  You'll notice that Church is just a small part what they do.

Anyway, let's not get too serious.  This is just a bike ride after all.  And on that note, I'd love to have some company.  I would be happy to meet any and all who are interested in riding with me anywhere along the route.  If you are from one of the towns I am riding to, we could meet a few miles out of town and ride in together.  Or if your home is between Manchester and where I am going we could meet up and you could ride the rest of the way.  Whatever works for you works for me.  I can adjust my speed to match anyone's ability (provided you are not too fast!).  So, if you are interested, or know anyone that is interested, send an e-mail to bengenh+ebp@gmail.com.  I'll check it by mid-week so that we can make arrangements.  I am also trying to get better about publishing my schedule in advance so that people have time to plan.  Which brings me to:

The schedule:

8/21 - St. Thomas, Hanover (from and to Lyme)

8/28 - St. Luke's, Woodsville (from Lyme and to Manchester)

9/4 - St. George's, Durham (most likely from and to Pawtuckaway State Park)

And finally, the stats from this past Sunday:

distance: 61.5 miles

average speed: 17.7 miles / hour

total climb: 2200 feet

average heart rate: 143 beats / min

A really cool '69 Citroen wagon I saw
as I was leaving the church

Catching Up: 6 Churches / 5 Sundays

OK, I know it's been awhile; my apologies.  I've been telling people I am going to get this post done for about 4 weeks now.  I have no excuses really, other than the fact that I am a lot better at riding than writing.  One thing that had my attention In July is the Tour de France.  If you haven't ever watched bike racing, you need to know that it is a fascinating sport where cyclists and teams have to cooperate to have a chance at winning, knowing that only one rider can ultimately cross the line first.  There are many nuances and strategic plays that make it great to watch, and the TV coverage is really good at highlighting the intricacies.  The Tour is the king of bike races.  It runs for 21 days every July, and I have watched it religiously for the past 9 years.  The downside is that for 21 days I spend at least 2 hours in front of the TV, which is very unusual for me; my normal day includes zero hours of TV time.  That consumption of discretionary time takes its toll on many activities, including blogging.  Regardless, I highly recommend checking out the Tour when it happens again next July.

So, what have I been up to?  I'll start out with the rides.  I have ridden 5 Sundays since my last post.  Some were short and simple like a 35 mile round trip to Dunbarton, where I had the pleasure of the company of my son Nick.  Others were somewhat longer like the 70 mile round trip to Exeter on a very hot day, again with Nick.  But, the two milestone rides were done solo over the Fourth of July weekend and the weekend of the 24th.  Both of these rides were up over Franconia Notch, each about 250 miles in total.

The first 250 miler I did the easy way, over the July 4th weekend.  Having Monday off allowed me to stretch things out a bit and make it more manageable.  I left on Saturday relatively early, around 8:30.  Nick helped pull me out of town; he rode with me for the first 10 miles or so.  I cranked my way up route 3 and through the bike path in Franconia Notch State Park, and enjoyed a nice long downhill through Franconia to Sugar Hill, where Sarah was waiting for me at the Sugar Hill Inn when I got there at 5:30.  We had a lovely stay there, including a trip together on a tandem bike up to St. Matthew's Chapel and a cruise around the state park on Sunday.  Monday, after a nice breakfast I climbed back on the fixie and head back south.  There was a lot of climbing over all (10,000 ft) , and it was hot, but it was all manageable since I spread it out over 3 days, with a light day in between the long rides.  I also tried to be smart about stopping and resting when I needed to cool down.  The neat thing is that I could take advantage of Episcopal churches along the route, in this case resting on the back lawn at the Church of the Messiah in North Woodstock (twice) and in the garden at St. Paul's Concord.  It was great to be able to rest and recover on friendly territory and think about the fact that you have 56 homes in New Hampshire in which to do so.

The second 250 miler I did a somewhat harder way.  I decide to get some practice with overnight riding, since before the end of this journey I want to do one of the real long ones (like up to Colebrook) in one straight shot.  Doing so will require starting in the evening on a Saturday and riding through the night to get to the church in time for Sunday services.  I left my house at 11PM Saturday night headed for Whitefield, with a goal of covering the 125 miles in time to arrive for a 9 AM Sunday service.  It was really strange climbing on the bike right at the time when I am used to climbing in bed, but riding at night proved to be really interesting.  First, once I got north of Concord, it was really quiet and I had the whole road to myself.  I could ride in either lane or even right on the yellow line if I wanted.  I could probably count the cars that I saw in the hours between 1 and 5 AM on one hand.  I am used to New Hampshire being quiet, but not this quiet.  Second, the other senses were heightened by the darkness that surrounded me; the smell of the hay in the fields, the sound of critters scurrying in the woods.  But the most interesting thing was the way that I could feel the road beneath me.  If you spend much time on a bike, you know that small changes in slope make a big difference in pedaling effort.  But, with the visibility and peripheral vision limited by the range of my headlight, it was hard to tell the pitch of the road ahead.  But I could feel it.  On the uphills the pedals become heavy, like pushing through syrup, the bike slows down, must be an uphill.  Then as I crest a hill the bike becomes light, and the pedals would push back at me, encouraging me to loosen up and let the crank spin.  After a nice zoom downhill there might be a nice long flat where a nice steady push would deliver steady speed, or it would be back to the heaviness and sluggishness of a climb.  I felt very much in tune with the road as I cranked through the darkness. 

The fatigue of riding all night was non-trivial.  If you have ever had to stay up all night to get something done, you know there is a kind of "witching hour" around 5 AM when you really start running out of steam.  This was no different.  At one point I took a 10 minute nap sprawled out on the asphalt at the Franconia Notch visitors center as park employees were walking past me to start their day.  I had to set an alarm on my phone to make sure it didn't turn into a 2 hour nap.  It was all I could do to get back on the bike and push through the last 9 miles and 700 feet up to get through the notch.  But once I got over the hump figuratively and literally it was a nice cruise downhill into Whitefield.  I began to feel much better.  Of course, there had to be three short but steep nasty little climbs just before I got in to town to make sure that I wasn't all fun and games, however I did manage to make it into the chapel at 9:05.   Afterward there was a great pancake breakfast on the green; then a nice gradual 15 mile climb up to Bretton Woods & the Mount Washington hotel where Sarah met me.  We took the tandem for the 2 mile round trip to the chapel there for a 6:30 PM service, after which I was able to get some much needed sleep.  The next day it was back on the bike to for the 115 mile trip back home, which was getting somewhat routine (or at least less daunting) at this point.  It was uneventful other than having to fight a headwind the whole way, riding through the rain for the last 35 miles, and having to change a flat in a downpour in the parking lot of the Concord state prison.

Now for the important part, the churches I visited:

6/26 - St. John's, Dunbarton:  I got to catch up with the Rev. Janet Lombardo, who used to chair the Mission Resources Committee.  She gave me a hard time about the fact that when we showed up I was out of breath and sweating profusely, and my son Nick hardly looked like he had even been on a bike.  I had heard stories about St. John's hand pumped organ but had never seen it in action.  The organ was as the front of the nave on the right hand side.  On the side of the console was this long lever, (it sort of looks like a tap handle in a bar) and just before every hymn a person from the congregation walked slowly up to the organ from the back of the nave and started pumping.  Once the air was flowing, the organist would commence playing, with the pumper steadily raising and lowering the handle as the hymn went on.  When it was all over, he calmly walked back to his pew.  There was no apparent communication between the pumper and the organist, but they were totally in sync.  Apparently St. John's organ is one of the few hand pumped organs remaining in the country.

The stats: Distance - 34.9 mi | Average Speed - 16.7 mph | Total Climb 2,100 ft | Average Heart Rate - 153

7/3 - St. Matthew's Chapel, Sugar Hill:  St. Matthew's is a very beautiful mountain chapel that I have driven by and even got to go inside once, but not for Sunday services.  We had the pleasure of visiting on the first Sunday of the season for 2011, and the Rev. Brendan Whitaker and warden Barbara Serafini welcomed us warmly.  Sarah and I had ridden up the hill from the Sugar Hill Inn on the tandem bike, which added to the spectacle.  Nick and his girlfriend Olivia joined us as well.  It was a lovely and informal service, highlighted by several church mice scurrying beneath our feet in the pews and up over the altar as Brendan preached.  Since he was talking about the care and stewardship of all of God's creatures, we couldn't very well do anything to discourage the mice, and they seemed pretty intent on worshiping with us.

The stats: Distance - 219 mi (plus approx 20 on the tandem) | Average Speed - 16.0 mph | Total Climb 10,100 ft | Average Heart Rate - 139

7/10 - Sunday off (in Maine visiting my daughter at music camp)

7/17 - Christ Church, Exeter:  I have heard the Rev. John Denson speak at several Diocesan events.  He is a powerful voice in this Diocese and I've wanted to visit him in his home church for quite some time.  Sadly, he is leaving Christ Church to go to another parish in Indianapolis, and I was fortunate to catch him before he departed.  Christ Church is a relatively modern building that has been renovated recently; it is quite a beautiful space with a terrific organ and an organist who can really make it go.  We got to hear a great sermon by The Rev. Annie Thornberg and then got a nice introduction by John.  Nick rode down with me and Sarah drove down and met us for the service.  Afterward we all had nice chats with a number of folks from CCE and I got a bunch of new signatures for my shirt.

The stats: Distance - 71.6 mi | Average Speed - 16.5 mph | Total Climb 3,200 ft | Average Heart Rate - 143

7/24 - The Church of the Transfiguration, Whitefield and the Church of the Transfiguration, Bretton Woods:  I was able to visit two churches in one day since Whitefield has its service at 9 AM and Bretton Woods worships at 6:30 PM; the two buildings are only 15 miles apart.  Whitefield was one that I had visited previously on a Diocesan Council tour, but like Sugar Hill, I had not been there for Sunday service.  It is a very cute little building with a dozen or so pews and a console organ at the back.  The Rev. Keith Owen presided.  He hails from a congregation in Ohio, and has spent the last 18 summers in the summer chapel in Whitefield.  The chapel owns a house in town, and several priests come for the summer to stay in the house for 3 - 4 weeks in exchange for leading Sunday service.  Some of them, like Keith, have been doing it for many many years.  I think it is a coveted gig.  Keith mentioned another of the summer clergy who has been doing it for 34 years.  He was terrifically welcoming and invited me to join him and his family for a pancake breakfast being held on the town green.  It was just what I needed after 10 hours of biking: blueberry pancakes, sausage, beans, juice, coffee, and good conversation.

Later that evening Sarah and I pedaled over on the tandem to the other Church of the Transfiguration summer chapel in Bretton Woods.  This is a much more substantial stone building, similar in size to a lot of the year round churches in the Diocese.  It was built by the widow of Joseph Stickney, the man who built the Mount Washington hotel.  One of the really striking elements are the stained glass windows, all from Tiffany Studios.  The Rev. Susan Buchanan leads service there on Sunday evenings in the summer.  She is the rector at Christ Church, North Conway, just a few miles down route 302.  She gave a very stirring sermon.  We had a nice chat with some folks from the congregation, a number who come up from North Conway, and I was able to get some more signatures for my shirt.

The stats: Distance - 252 mi | Average Speed - 14.9 mph | Total Climb 11,700 ft | Average Heart Rate - 131

7/31 - St. Andrew's Hopkinton:  After a 250 mile odyssey, it was nice to pedal a short 21 miles up to Hopkinton to visit St. Andrew's and the Rev. Kevin Nichols.  I hadn't met Kevin before, but felt like I knew him since Sarah serves with him on the Bishop's search committee.  He is a really great guy and a terrific priest.  He opened his sermon with the question "Have you noticed, Jesus has been locked up for the past six weeks?"  It turns out that the tabernacle behind the altar where they keep the communion bread and wine has been locked for the past 6 weeks and no one has been able to find the key.  He then segued into an interesting discussion of the feeding of the 5000, that Sunday's Gospel.  The good news is that a locksmith is coming shortly.  St. Andrew's looks like a congregational church inside, complete with pew stalls with doors.  I wonder if it previously was a "congo" church.  They have a terrific facility there with a beautiful great hall with a timber frame which I think comes from an old barn.  I have been in this hall a number of times for Diocesan meetings, it was nice to be there for church.   One innovation that we did on this segment of the EBP was for shirt signing.  I wore a T-shirt under the jersey so I could take it off for people to sign it.  Up until now I have been having people sign it on my body, which can be a bit awkward.  I got many more signatures since I was able to lay the shirt on a table and invite people to sign.  One cool thing was as I was leaving I bumped into some kids who wanted to sign my shirt, which they did; the first children's signatures of the project.  The reason I chose Hopkinton that Sunday was that I had to be at my daughter's summer program graduation at St. Paul's school at 11:00 that day.  Fortunately St. Paul's is 5 miles down the road from St. Andrew's, mostly downhill; which made for a nice change from some of the epic journeys of prior weeks.

The stats: Distance - 26.5 mi | Average Speed - 14.6 mph | Total Climb - 1900 ft | Average Heart Rate - 138 bpm

So, that gets me all caught up.  I was off last weekend; at St. Matt's to help out while Bill is on vacation.  Looking back, I have been to 11 churches thus far and have traveled 777 miles.  It has been a fantastic journey.  I have met many wonderful people, seen lots of different ways of worshiping in all kinds of different spaces, and have had some glorious time on the bike beneath sun and stars.  This is an incredible Diocese in an incredible state.  I am so fortunate to be a part of it.

The schedule:

8/14 - St. Andrew's by the Sea, Rye Beach

8/21 - St. Thomas, Hanover

8/28 - St. Luke's Woodsville

Father's Day Surprise

The first signatures

I had a great ride out to Peterborough this past Sunday.  The highlight of the day came at 7AM before I left, when my 3 teen age kids dragged themselves out of bed to give me a father's day present.  They're never up at that hour, and when they insisted that I open the present right then I knew it had to be something related the ride, but I had no clue what the could have gotten me.  Open present; big surprise!  The gift was a custom Episcopal Bike Project (NH) Bike jersey, complete with Diocesan logo, the "Infinite Respect / Radical Hospitality" tag line, and ride stats.  It is very cool.  Immediately I decided that I should get it signed by every congregation I visit, so I tossed a laundry marker in the pocket and hit the road.  For the first time, I had company on my ride; my wife Sarah joined me for about the first 8 miles.  It was great to have someone to ride with.  I'm going to have to work harder to recruit some more companions.

My first stop was St. Matt's, which is on the way to Peterborough, and by luck (The Rev.) Bill (Exner) was there getting ready for worship.  I was hoping to catch him so he could put the first signature on the jersey, which he did.  He also snapped some new photos for the blog.  After that it was on to New Boston, then Francestown, then Greenfield, then Peterborough.  These are truly classic New England towns connected by well worn roads dotted with farms, colonial houses, and barns.  It was moderately hilly, but nothing unreasonable.  On a sunny Sunday morning, I couldn't think of a better place to be riding.

The Rev. Sarah Robbins-Cole

All Saints Peterborough is a beautiful old gothic stone church, a mini cathedral actually, tucked in off the street at the end of a lawn framed by the rectory and the parish offices on either side.  It is quite a setting.  Once again, I don't think folks knew what to make of me, although again they were friendly and greeted me.  My post ride stretching yoga routine on the lawn certainly helped provide some additional head scratching.  The cool thing is my new jersey helps explain what I'm up to, and once inside the church it provided a good advertisement.   Sarah and Emma (my daughter) joined me for the service.  It was Trinity Sunday, and The Rev. Sarah Robbins-Cole gave an excellent sermon on the topic, which she managed to frame inside a discussion of Title IV, the canon on the discipline of errant clergy.  The canon has been revised recently, and has been a hot topic among Episcopal clergy.  All in all very interesting and thought provoking.  We had a nice chat afterward, she signed my shirt, and my family and I went off to grab some lunch.  We went to Twelve Pine (http://www.twelvepine.com/) a terrific, bakery, sandwich, burrito, gelato, food, wine, & beer shop kind of place right in the middle of town.  The food is terrific; I highly recommend it.  My other two progeny joined us after church (they had acolyte duties at St. Matt's), and we did some more Father's Day stuff as we ate.  After that it was a very pleasant, but uneventful ride back through the same pastoral scenery that I rode through on the way out.   My legs are feeling much better, which is good, because I'm heading up north of the notches in a couple of weeks.

The stats:

distance: 72.9 miles

average speed 15.9 mph

average heart rate: 145 bpm

total climb: 3600 ft

The next rides:

6/26 - St. John's Dunbarton

7/3 - St. Matthew's Chapel - Sugar Hill

7/10 - day off

7/17 - St. James Church - Burkehaven