I finally succumbed to the temptation to join this site yesterday, after somebody reported on Chainguard that entertainment can be gleaned here from a certain Forester-basher whom I'd thought had disappeared from the internet or died or something. And what did I find, but a circus beyond my wildest imagination, in which one may buy a popcorn and be entertained by the mostly-ignorant spleen-ventings of _many_ Forester-bashers. So, I had fun leaping into the "Safety & Advocacy" and "Vehicular Cycling" divisions of this site and unleashing some diatribes. I did so in my favorite style - a style that, in an opinion whispered to me by one of the apparently-ubiquitous admins, is comparable to walking into a bar in a strange town and acting narcissistic without having formally introduced oneself and then expecting the bar's regulars to react non-explosively.
Well, that bar analogy is probably good _unless_ your credentials are good _enough_ - such as, if you're the Captain of The Last Bike Ride Out of the 20th Century. That's the one-participant event that I was on when, in January 2001, I walked into a bar in the most-completely strange town in which I've ever walked into a bar - Carcross, Yukon - and boasted right off the bat that the color of my money was my proof that I'd ridden it ("it" being visible to all, right outside the window, as snow quickly blanketed it) from another century (from 11:19 pm 12/31/00 Alaska Time to 12:19 am 1/1/01 Pacific Time, to be exact, via White Pass, which is part of the world's-tardiest crossable-by-road time zone boundary) and that I wondered whether the Einstein-defying _back_-in-time stunt that I'd done while I was _at_ it (by means of a whimsical pair of U-turns) might have been what had heated the Yukon up to double digits in January.
Ladies and gentlemen, the bikeforums admin's bikeforums/bar analogy doesn't hold water in the above example, because the responses at that bar didn't contain any iota of reciprical narcissism. Rather, they were very positive, ranging from a bunch of "The only thing cold in the Yukon is the beer - have _another_ one!" remarks, to my getting to crash later that night in a Wanted man's shack with him. Nevertheless, I thank the particular bikeforums admin for reminding me that I'm supposed to properly introduce myself.
"Other" introductory info about me: I live in N.E. Pennsylvania, and I admittedly "cheated" by train and ferry to get to the Skagway start of The Last Bike Ride Out of the 20th Century (and by bus and train to get home from the Whitehorse end of it - I "even" used a car, yes I am a motorist too, to get to and from the nearest-to-me Amtrak station, which is in Syracuse, N.Y., 110 miles north of the Frost Farm). But the vast majority of the rest of my rides are of the start-and-end-in-my-driveway variety. The longest ones of them were to Labrador in 1982 and Florida in 1988 (3000 r.t. miles each). The _latest_ ones of them (of the multi-day variety) were to the Finger (or in the case of one of them, Oneida, technically not part of the Fingers but the "thumb") Lakes on two separate round trips this past summer (250-300 r.t. miles each), although I usually, when I plan better, try to do my multi-day rides in the winter (farmers' cycling season).
I commuted near Philadelphia at various times, the biggest example of which was from 1980 thru 1982, the period during which I became a self-taught vehicular cyclist (all before I even knew of John Forester). But since 1982, my "commute" has usually consisted simply of the 200 feet between the house and the barn, and this has relegated my cycling to 1) errands (or the 25% of my errands for which cycling is practicable), 2) involvement with clubs (not too often, because unfortunately, there's a lot of cyclist-inferiority cycling in them that I must then spend all of my time afterwards, bashing), and 3) vacations. Currently, I'm working on trying to map out a Sunday morning paper route that I've owned for the past 6 months, for conversion from motoring to cycling to the limited extent that parts of it would be practicable to do by cycling (it's too big to be practicable to do _entirely_ by cycling).
Oh, and I almost forgot to say what the official freight of The Last Bike Ride Out of the 20th Century was: TEA-19, or Transportation Act from the 19th Century - which my whimsical side trip a century _back_ in time was symbolically to retreive and which states in its entirety (thus acheiving such a document's most critical requirement: not allowing for any exceptions), "A bicycle is a vehicle. Therefore, a bicyclist has the same rights and duties as any other vehicle operator."