Baloonacy

The Macy*s Day Parade is insane enough, but the festivities of the balloon-inflating day have gotten out of control.

Near the end of the previous millennium, things were different. A person could walk from my mom's apartment building, cross the street, pick up some food at the local Somewhat Original Ray's Pizza, and head back home. Elapsed time: 10 minutes on a slow day. And you didn't even need proof of your address or a party invitation! Shirra remembers an evening back in 1994 when we visited her friend Eileen a few blocks away for her big annual Turkey Eve party. We hustled over, hung about for a couple hours, and made our way back, noting how some of the balloons were a bit more inflated when we returned than when we'd left.

Just a few years later, however, the thing had gone viral. Blame word of mouth, blame the more-bored-than-usual media, blame the police, but when thousands of people started to make the balloon inflation into some kind of party event, the infotainment reporters arrived along with the police barricades, and that was the end of that. It took us more than ten minutes just to walk one block downtown on Columbus with Fiona in the stroller -- a mistake we never made again -- and pretty much took Eileen's party off our to-do list forevermore. At that was only 1998.

Here is a photo someone took of my mom's block last year. I imagine someone -- someone staying in a hotel -- saying, "Ooh! Isn't that Shrek? What's he doing here, that big green silly! I can't believe I'm standing so close to greatness!"

And now things are totally out of control. Shirra was blocked from passing thru one of the barricades because some rookie cop thought that she and the kids were just sightseers pretending to live on 81st Street. Direction-barkers are still making announcements to balloon workers at 11pm, and as I was putting the kids to bed in my old room (the one that faces the street), we could hear bands playing jaunty music to late-night revelers who came to watch -- oh, joy! -- the commingling of helium, painted rubber, and thousands of sandbags.

Breaking and Entering a Car (in order to rescue the inhabitants during an emergency)

This past Monday, we had a great fire fighter practice ("evolution" for those of you new to FF jargon). It involved using several tools including the Jaws of Life to open a car.


You first have to hook up the JoL to a portable generator about the size (and strength) of my car's engine; actually, this thing is a bit bigger, about the size of a fat briefcase. Clever, interchangeable cords allow quick swapping-out of various tools depending on whether you need to pry things open, smoosh them together, or cut them apart.

This is basically what the car will look like when the FFs are done with the extrication evolution. That's not our guys or the car we used -- I didn't get around to taking a photo of it -- but this picture gives you the basic idea.

One good point to make: Even tho the JoL is pretty easy to set up and is extremely effective, it's still better to try the car's doors first, just in case!

OK, that's a lame joke. Obviously that method doesn't work when people are trapped. In fact, as the photo shows, sometimes you actually have to cut away the roof and pry away the dashboard in order to extricate passengers. Cars these days are made to protect passengers by crumpling (relatively) safely around them. That's why modern cars involved in anything above a fender-bender are usually considered 'totaled'. This is still a lot better than the old days: The cars could withstand a solid impact, but the passengers didn't always look too good afterwards.

Spicy Prices

Short version: Don't buy spices at the supermarket if you have an alternative like a health food store.
Moral: Sometimes a cell phone pays for itself.

Shirra sent me on an errand just before Turkey Day. She wants to make a few pies before Thursday's festivities. On the list were four spices:

Nutmeg
Cloves
Ginger
Cinnamon

Stop 'N' Shop price for these four items: $35

This seemed a tad high -- nutmeg ain't cheap, but hey! -- so I gave Shirra a call. She suggested I try the health food store next door, the one with the odd sign. Is it "Healthy Nutrition"? "Health / Nutrition"? Maybe the carrot stands for an ampersand? Or perhaps it's just a carrot: "Health Carrot Nutrition".

Whatever the name, I like their prices. I bought what seemed like a fair amount of all four of the spices. Grand total: $1.47.

Reading in the Car

Since I am in the car for nearly 4 hours a day, I have to make the most of my time there in order to keep away the demons of boredom and sloth. Initially I found myself listening to music, but I don't really have a large selection on my iPod, so this quickly became monotonous. Next I discovered podcasts, and I tried to keep up with the latest news and other NPR programming thru this medium, and for the most part, it was entertaining and enlightening. I even tried the first 25 episodes of a wonderful program of Radio Lingua where I hoped to teach myself Spanish, but I realized, months later, that this would require some home-study, and I don't have time for that, so my Spanish education stagnated. Finally I remembered that our local library has a selection of books on CD.

This started when Shirra pointed out that we had an audio version of "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy." I gobbled up that book and quickly ventured over to the library. In less than two months, I've devoured audio books at a rate of about two per week. Without further ado, my list so far:

1. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (Douglas Adams). Hysterical.

2. Plato and a Platypus Walk into a Bar (Cathcart). Very funny; a great source of jokes, most of which were new to me.

3. Blaze (Steven King). Similar to "Of Mice and Men" but from the viewpoint of the retarded man.
4. Carrie (King). Awesome -- much better than the movie. Sissy Spacek read the book version, by the way.
5. The Gunslinger. Not my cuppa.

6. the curious incident of the dog in the night-time (Mark Haddon). I had read this book 3 times and still love the story enough to hear it again.

7. Bare Bones (Kathy Reichs). This is the first book in the series that led to the "Bones" show on TV. It was a fun read but is quite different from the television series.

8. Undead and Unreturnable (Davidson). This was an ultra-hip book about the modern vampire; quite sexy.

9-12. The No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency (Andrew McCall Smith). I've now listened to five of the books in this wonderful series, tho not in order. The books stand alone and are just as fun out of sequence. I think the best of the bunch is "Blue Shoes and Happiness, which is one of the later ones.

Who knew that driving could make a person so literate?

Smart Car: First 50 Fillups

I've now filled the car with gas on just over 50 occasions. I've recorded each visit to the pump:

miles driven
gallons replaced
price per gallon
date

What I've learned thus far is that the car, the way I drive it, has averaged nearly 45 miles per gallon, with the first 20 tanks averaging about 42 and the next 30 averaging about 46 mpg. I tend to get nearly 320 miles between fillups, with two tanks taking me over 400 miles and quite a few getting me about 365 (and keep in mind that the tank only holds 8.7 gallons). The average cost of a gallon has come out to over $4 due to the high costs we all incurred over the summer, but my last fillup, yesterday, came in at only $2.98 for 93 octane.

My car has its faults, and they seem to be related to the electrics. The brights flicker, and while I rarely use them, it's always annoying when I do. I've also had some similar problems with the radio/CD player turning itself off and on again. Undoubtedly there is a loose wire. Worse yet is the driver-side door latch that fails when the car is too hot, but since it's now the chilly season, I can have this fixed before it affects me again.

I'm thrilled about the car, on the whole, and can't imagine a better way to get into Manhattan. It's faster, door-to-door, than the bus (even tho I drive only about 57 mph while buses usually zoom by at about 73) and it's a lot cheaper. Taking the bus is about $140 roundtrip per week. Gas for the car comes to less than half that amount.

No Pressure, No Pressure

It's all good when it comes to our water.

First we suffered thru a few days of grey water. This problem quickly went away when the contractors repaired the pipe they'd accidentally axed. Then even better news: As a result of their recent work, the contractors noticed and fixed a problem with our water pressure.

Time was, we could take a shower or wash our laundry, but not both at once. But now we have enough water for both at the same time. Woo hoo!

Now maybe we can get the to dig a bit deeper.... Maybe they'll find oil!

Fire Prevention Week, 2008 Edition

Once again it was Fire Prevention week, and as I hope I can do for the rest of my life, I signed up for all five days. The timing is perfect for me since all of our school visits take place from 9:30-11, and even with the necessary clean-up and after care, we're still free long before I need to be in NYC for the afternoon. But the main draw for me is getting to be in schools and day care centers with little kids once again. I'll never outgrow that.

The big days for some are when we visit the big schools (Duzine and Lenape) which put us in front off over a thousand lower schoolers all told. The lieutenant does an outstanding job teaching the kids all of the important points, and clearly they love his presentation. I really enjoy seeing Emmett with all of his friends. My favorite school visits, however, are those we make to the small day care centers. It may seem challenging to perform in front of 170 third graders, but it can be equally challenging to get up in front of 15 tots while the air is infused with a bulging Diaper Genie. It's funny how diapers are harder to withstand once your own kids are out of them.

Trickier than the smell is the challenge of teaching little ones about fire safety without causing them to freak out. Last year it seemed that many of the children became upset when they saw the fire fighter disappear into an face mask as we demonstrated what we look like when we go 'on air.' This is important since kids need to recognize the looks and sounds of a fully geared-up fire fighter, but it's hard for little kids to understand that the nice person standing up in front of them is still there when the mask comes on. Psychologists call this 'object permanence.' Shirra suggested that one of the fire fighters enter the room while on air, as this had apparently worked with Emmett's 3's class back in Brooklyn, but we seemed to get the same results either way: Most kids were fine, and a few were a bit scared.

In addition to helping kids recognize what a fire fighter looks like, our main role is to teach the children about fire, smoke, smoke alarms, meeting places outside the home, and other safety tips. But the part of the day that they might remember best is when we let them sit in the fire truck.

Tomorrow is our last day of this year's safety week. I'll miss the time spent with the little kids and will be looking forward to October of 2009.

Water, Water Everywhere, and Not a Drop to Drink

I haven't written in a bit too long -- darn, that unicycle elbow -- but even if I have to peck this one out with the index finger of my right hand, this one is just too rural to wait until my tendinitis has fully abated. This is a blog, after all, about moving to New Paltz and about what surprises await those who make that move.

The economy may be tanking, but my mom managed to secure the last loan from some bank just before it went under. I imagine some huge, dying dragon getting out the word "approved" just before snorting its last fiery breath. Cash in hand, she paid off a few big debts of her own and lent me enough to fix up our cottage. The previous owners had canabilized the water and gas pipes when they built the newer house a few years ago. Since they were landscapers, this trick saved them a few thousand dollars but ended up costing us more than we could float on our own, and since that time, we've used the cottage as storage and as a place to set up Fiona's drum set. It's been home to spiders, insects, and a few snakes, but now, after nearly two years of dormancy, the old house is about to come back to life.

We hired a couple of really good local men to install the pipes and give the cottage a kitchen once again, and they began work this past week. Yesterday we got a big surprise when Shirra flushed the toilet and discovered that the water looked worse afterwards. It was pure grey, the color of a liquid hairball. Even our Britta filter didn't make an improvement. Running the sink for a few minutes didn't help things, either, and Shirra's trip to the basement didn't lead to any answers. When we checked with the men, we learned that one of them had accidentally put an ax thru a pipe. I'm not sure what had contaminated our well water for a day, but it's all better now. The Dow Jones may have fallen back into the 8000s, but we can drink our own water once again. Phew.

Unicycling to Manhattan

I rode my unicycle 85 miles yesterday as part of the NYC Century Ride of 2008. That's longer than the ride from New Paltz to Manhattan (a ride I've contemplated recently). So while I didn't actually ride from one city to the other, I could have!

I set out with five other riders, 3 of whom I'd met during the recent Ride the Lobster race in Nova Scotia. Of the six of us, only my friend Roland and I were on geared 29s, and we rode together for most of the day. One rider joined us later due to car troubles.

Start
The other 5 of us took off a few minutes earlier than the training wheel crowd, but they quickly passed us when I took everyone 5 blocks out of the way by accident (I possess a wonderful sense of misdirection). Eventually we headed down a slightly different route that allowed us a faster, smoother (and longer) ride towards the Brooklyn Bridge. We stayed together until the first rest stop (at mile 14) after which Roland and I zipped off with the goal of 100 miles; the others had to contend with choosing 55 or 75-mile options due to the time constraints.

Going for the hundred
Roland and I had a great time. The route took us around all of Brooklyn, which had a pretty flat route, and thence around Queens, which never seemed to end. In fact, the break between rest stops is surprisingly large at that point, going from mile 42 to 71 without any peanut butter or bananas. We took our own breaks frequently, partly to rest my groin or Roland's legs.

Pain and breaks
It was odd how each of us suffered differently, especially since I was not expecting any troubles after having such a relatively pain-free Lobster. But the rest stops made a huge difference, and by mile 71, we'd made great time and were looking at finishing by 5pm (that is, in 11 hours, total). This was not to be.

More pain: a massive UPD for me and wet pants
A few miles later, as we finally arrived in the Bronx, it was time for me to upshift yet again. I was just ruminating over how many times I'd successfully shifted up to that point -- 50? 100? -- when suddenly the gear didn't catch and I fell over backwards like a bowling pin. Happily I was wearing a helmet, wrist guards, and even a fanny pack hydration system. All of these were essential in my coming out of the fall with nothing more than two tiny scratches on my elbows. But in falling, I smashed my helmet on the ground. I wasn't dazed, but it was certainly the hardest I've hit my head (out of three times total). But as I lay there realizing that I was ok, I wondered why my pants were wet: my hydration pack had ruptured. Having checked that my body was unhurt, I next checked my 2nd-most valuable possession at the time, but luckily my iPhone was ok. Phew!

Gun shy and sore
At this point, I had ridden about 78 miles. There was still time to complete the 100, but I was nervous that my head or neck might have some latent injury and that I had no water for the remainder of the ride, tho I could always buy liquid, so that wasn't a big issue. The real issue, however, was my bum. I was really sore at this point, and I worried that I'd only be making things worse if I rode for 3 more hours. I decided to quit the ride a bit early and headed to the race's endpoint while Roland rode on thru the hilly Bronx. He ended up finishing the ride (about 105 miles) in just over 12 hours. Then he threw up. It turns out that his stomach had knotted up, so to speak, and that he wasn't able to get any food down. Maybe he was dehydrated, but by the next morning he was fine.

Rosy cheeks
When I got to my mom's an hour later for a shower, I took a look at my bottom. It looked like one of those cartoon Santa faces from the 1960s with really red cheeks, only in my case, the cheeks were a bit closer to the, uh, nose.
The shower was painful and the drive home (80 miles, or just about the same distance it took me 10 hours to ride) was a bit uncomfortable.

The good news
Well, I was happy that my ride didn't tire my legs or make any other muscles sore and that I was able to ride nearly 85 miles after having only ridden about 25 in the two months since the Lobster race. It's too bad about my toosh and about that nasty fall, but it was still a great day.

Smart Car after 10,000 miles

Yes, that little car o' mine has already spun its odo to the 10,000-mile mark. Driving around 180-200 miles a day will do that for you pretty fast.

It's a bit of a pain to check the oil (theoretically -- I've never done it) because the engine is under the flap behind the seats on top of what little trunk space I have. To check the oil, I'd have to take most of the stuff out of the back, and tho the car doesn't ostensibly have enough room for a pack of cards, its actually quite spacious. Squeezed behind me are usually the following items:

29" unicycle with handlebar extention
firefighter gear (boots, bunker pants, coat, helmet)
various cycling items (hydration system, gel packs, kneepads, helmet, etc)

...as well as a few incidentals.

So I went by the owner's manual, which suggested that I only needed to change the oil every 10,000 miles. This seems like the setup to a joke, but the car has run fine with only a few hiccups along the way, none of which was oil-related.

HICCUPS
1. Door latches. In really hot weather, the doors don't always want to latch. It's their personal decision, and I respect that, but I find that they behave properly with a little coaxing, so it wasn't something for the dealer to fix when I went for my 10,000-mile checkup.
2. Headlights. They were aimed a bit too high, causing partial blindness in the drivers going the other way at night. People would flash their brights at me for apparently no reason; it took me a few weeks to figure this one out. A simple fix.
3. Brights. Speaking of brights, mine shudder on and off very strangely; this is apparently an easy fix that my dealer did NOT perform involving a loose wire. I'll wait till the 20,000-mile checkup for that one.
4. Gear shift. The shifter is a bit sticky at times, but some WD-40 may have fixed this. If not, I'll take the car in (and take care of those brights, too).

Considering that the car has averaged over 45 miles per gallon and that parking is always a breeze, I really can't complain. It has drawbacks other than its lack of a back seat, but over all I'm thrilled with it. There's no denying its cuteness factor, either.

The Menemsha Inn and Cottages: A Review

We have stayed at the Menemsha Inn & Cottages for a week or two over the past 8 summers. Perhaps it's time to consider other accomodations; word has it that the place is now owned by someone who lives in California, and it shows just the kind of hands-on care you'd expect from a boss who lives 3,000 miles away.

The MI&C was run by different management when we first arrived in 1997. The facility ran quite smoothly then, and we had a great time with no great complaints. Sure, the bathroom door was a bit sticky and never got closer than 5 inches from the jamb, but we're not big on privacy, so that wasn't an issue. There were a few other glitches like the bureau drawer that nearly crippled one of the children, but we were too busy taking in the sights to notice the slights. Better yet, when we arrived for our 2nd vacation here the following summer, there was a generous gift basket awaiting us (as returning guests) featuring some locally produced soaps and chocolates. That simple gesture helped us overlook the bureau (now sporting a broken knob) and the cripplingly thin and lumpy mattress of the pullout bed. We put the mattress on the floor each night and chalked it up to our own pickiness. After all, perhaps there were people whose backs needed to curve in 8 different places at night.

When we arrived for our 3rd stay, however, things were different. The management had been changed over the winter, and the wrinkles began to show. Gone was the gift basket, along with some of our esteem for the MI&C. It became harder to acquire a beach pass, too, and this was especially vexing the following year because we now had to tote around our most recent addition to the family.

The management didn't change drastically when a new owner took over last year, but we noticed a few alterations when we arrived this time. The room looked larger, and it took us a few moments to realize that two paintings had been removed, rendering an effect that looked vaguely Skandinavian (or as Shirra put it: like something out of an Ikea catalog, but not as fancy). The same two doors still stuck (and now a third did as well), and the bureau drawer still fell out dangerously (tho this time there were two broken knobs rather than one). There were holes where the picture hooks had been. And there was still no gift basket.

As bad as the interior decor was, the exterior changes were worse.

My kids love to hang out at the playground after breakfast everyday. This is a bit of a wonder since the playground here doesn't offer much other than some dilapidated games, a climbing tree that reaches dangerous heights, and a tricky tire swing that doubles as a wrecking ball. There is no slide, there are no monkey bars or swings -- it's nothing like our playground back home. It does, however, feature two items that you don't see in most playgrounds these days, and both involve rusty metal pieces sticking out of the ground exactly where children are likely to skewer themselves.
The first is a ringtoss game devised by Vlad the Impaler. I like how the spike juts out at a pronounced angle -- perhaps the first few kids who landed on it managed to tilt it a few degrees.New Englanders call it Horseshoes, but lawyers call it Dangerous Rusty Pipe Sticking Out Of The Ground .

 



Because one rusty hazard is never enough...
Just a few feet away is what is probably the top of some drain that is just wide enough for a really interesting story about a child who falls into it and is unable to extract himself for several days while the news media swarm about in hopes of higher ratings. I've lifted off the lid -- it's not attached to anything. I don't recall what was underneath, but I do appreciate the shape and sharpness of the handle, which is perfect for spraining and simultaneously infecting the ankle of a child who had forgotten for a moment that it was there -- too busy, no doubt, worrying about the nearby spike.



















Another nice new touch is the swamp on the way to the playground and tennis court. I think they call it a stagnant water feature. It's a great way to increase population of mosquitos, but I'm not sure it's necessary -- mozzies were already pretty numerous in other years.
















Just beyond the playground is a new structure with a garage door that someone has already managed to back into. This building, whose purpose is a mystery, seems to function as an additional repository of beach towels and sundry equipment for groundskeeping... or just target practice for the towel carts.






















Finally, there was a time a few years ago when each cottage had its own luggage cart to help people transport bags from their car to their cottage. Then last year, the carts had disappeared, tho there was still one of them available upon request. I went to help myself to it this year and discovered that it was out of use -- no one on the island seems to know the location of a bike pump. I filled it myself and made good use of it. This cart appears to have come to the Vineyard with the first settlers.

Sad Sight at the County Fair: ForTwo For Sale

At our local fair, I saw a large number of animals tied up in a barn, people gawking at them, occ'ly petting them. No one was unkind, but it's always sad, really, when you think about it. Except the bunnies. Those things were just made to be stared at in a cage - they're so cute!

Then my kids and I walked 50 feet over to where some car dealership from Kingston, NY was showing off its wares. There was a large number of cars parked outside, people gawking at them, occ'ly petting them. One of them was a yellow smart fortwo.

That poor little car didn't stand a chance. It wanted to run free, ride with the big boys and girls, but instead it was forced to sit there while sweaty dudes still holding their corndogs got inside to check out its roominess. It nearly made me cry.

Here's the rub: This car isn't being sold new -- it's for sale "as is." And this "as is" state specifies that its warranty is no longer valid! The dealer bought it just to sell it and probably wasn't even the original owner. Too boot, the car has 500 miles on it, and the seats were already dirty (did I mention the corndogs?). Oh, and the price? "Well over $20,000," according to the salesman who didn't actually share what his boss actually wants for the car.

I don't think they're going to get over $20k. After all, who'd be stupid enough to buy a newish car with NO WARRANTY?

Whoever buys it, let me know how long it takes to get out the corndog and sunscreen smell. And how much over $20,000 you paid....

Driving a Big Red Firetruck

I wish I could attend more of the training nights with the fire department, but my tutoring schedule precludes it during the school year. I'm always glad when I can make it to training or a meeting, and tonight I had a chance to drive a firetruck.

We regularly cycle thru a regimen that includes dealing with car fires, ladders, hoses, air tanks, and so on, but tonight was the first time I've made it to a session with the trucks. We drove a pickup-style firetruck thru a short slalom course with a few pylons in the parking lot of the high school, and then we did the same route with one of the longer trucks. In both cases, we had to drive the trucks up to a stopping point to see how close we came to a cone, and then we had to do the same course in reverse! I was surprised how well I did -- backing up towards a cone in the dark while driving a huge truck is not something I expected to have much skill in, but I attacked the task with a sort of mathematical approach, and that worked for me. I also got some excellent advice from one of our members who drives a truck for a living. In a nutshell, it involved shadows.

I don't think I'll be driving a firetruck on my own anytime soon, but I'm glad I got to try them out this evening.

New Paltz resident loves to race unicycles -- Poughkeepsie Journal, 7.13.08, by Nancy Haggerty

Think unicycle and image 1 might be a clown or street performer teetering side to side at all of a mile or two per hour.

But now think 500 miles of unicycle racing, often at 20-plus mph, of riding roads that not only go up and down hills but also mountains.

Think Ride the Lobster, the recent 35-team relay held in Nova Scotia.

The June 16-20 race, officially 800 kilometers or 497.1 miles, included four days of 35-rider mass-start, roughly 120-mile road racing and one day of time trials and criterium.

It also included riders from as far away as Korea, Germany, Denmark Singapore, Britain, New Zealand and Australia.

By comparison, David Stone was a local.

The 41-year-old New Paltz resident teamed with John Foss, 46, of California and Dave White, 52, of Ohio on The Centurions. The name represents the fact the three, who met through unicycle conventions, have among them 101 years of unicycling experience, Stone the least at 28.

Stone, president/founder of the Manhattan-based New York Unicycle Club, had done long unicycle rides, including a New York City century in which he logged 102 miles in one day. But his longest previous races were only 10Ks.

"I treated this racing as if I had to do about six to eight of those each day for four days," he said.

Stone, who works in Manhattan as a private tutor, trained for two months, logging 13 to 25 miles a day, sometimes in Central Park, but most often on the rail trail out of New Paltz.

Going in, his team's goal was a top-10 finish and that's exactly what it got, finishing 10th in 40 hours, 27 minutes, 34 seconds. That was four-plus hours behind the winning German team and more than 19 hours ahead of the last-place team. But 10th was a battle, with the 11th-place squad finishing just seven minutes back.

"When I rode, I always thought, 'Never let up.' I didn't want to give up even a second to another team... I rode like gangbusters the whole way," said Stone, whose motto was "None shall pass" and who noted, "It was very rare when someone did."

Enjoys speed aspect

Stone, a former high school runner who explained, "Speed is what I always had as a weapon in any sport," logged 87 of the final day's 180 kilometers, cycling mostly flats and downhills, his strengths.

He rode one three-mile, paved mountain downhill at 19 mph.

"On a unicycle that's way too fast to fall off," he remarked.

But while one opponent broke a leg crossing train tracks, even on gravel, Stone's team had no falls. It was on a gravel downhill, that the gravel-loving Stone hit 22.5 mph, his top race speed.

"That was just amazing," Stone said, adding, "I see gravel and it's almost like I get hungry."

Foss' wife, Jacquie, drove the team's support van routinely six or more miles ahead of the team's current rider. Then, at the van, a GPS tracking baton was passed to the next rider, who'd already be pedaling.

Stone, who owns 30 unicycles, rode a 29-inch, wheel-geared unicycle throughout the race. Other racers rode geared and ungeared unicycles of various sizes. The winning Germans, who took home a $4,000 prize (The Centurions split $125 for 10th place) used a more difficult to handle but very fast 36-inch, wheel-geared unicycle.

The race, run through areas that reminded Stone of the Hudson Valley, was designed to boost tourism. Rooms and breakfast and dinner were provided free to participants, who shared information and more with each other.

"Imagine a new golfer coming along and wanting tips on how to avoid a slice and he started chatting up Tiger Woods. It's never going to happen. ... The nice thing about the sport is it's in its youth. We're still so innocent," said Stone, who noted his and others teams loaned unicycles to competitors and one team actually built one for another team.

The camaraderie extended to fans. Schoolchildren lined parts of the route and gave teams care packages.

"... As a tutor, former teacher and father, the kids were the best (part of the race)," said Stone.

While his own kids, Fiona, 12, a five-year rider; Emmett, 8, a two-year rider; and Maeve, 4, were home in school and his wife, Shirra, was running her New Paltz shop, Knit and Be Happy, the GPS baton allowed them to follow The Centurions' progress online.

This was the first ever Ride the Lobster and if Nova Scotia hosts it again, Stone plans to be there.

He also dreams of someday unicycling cross-country with his brother, John, who has unicycled across the Alps, the Pyrenees and Norway.

More immediately, though, Stone plans to do a New York century ride on Sept. 7. And he's also talking about teaming with John and Emmett in a race.

The name of that team? The Rolling Stones.

Still Loving the Smart! Can You Say HYPERMILER?

The car has only gotten better. Or maybe I should say that the driver has only gotten better.

I've learned some hypermiling techniques, and they've paid off. My mileage the first few fillups was about 41-42 mile per gallon. My last two tanks averaged nearly 49 mpg. In fact, last week I managed to squeeze nearly 419 miles out of my 8.7-gallon tank, with about .2 gallons to spare (an average of 50.4 mpg).

Here are my hypermiling tricks:
1. Drive slowly. No car can really perform better at 70 than at 60, due to aerodynamics and other reasons, so I drive at a steady 55-63 mph, pretty much. I think my average speed these days is about 57 mph on the highway. Hypermilers say that this can improve gas mileage like nothing else, and in my old car, I saw that this was definitely the case. I think that driving 70 costs 15-20% of your fuel efficiency compared with driving 60 mph. I think I'd drive 50 mph if I could, but that's almost dangerously slow, so I'll stick near 60. I won't mind when highways go back to a 55 mph speed limit.

2. Avoid using the brakes. I let the car slow itself down whenever possible, and I leave space before the car in front of me when I'm in any kind of traffic. The smart car's engine slows itself down as soon as your foot's off the gas pedal, and the deceleration is pretty strong because the car actually has an automated manual transmission -- it's like a stick-shift that does the shifting automatically. I've had trips from Manhattan to New Paltz where I used the brakes a total of three times.

3. Avoid hard accelerations, too. I like the advice that you should drive as tho there is an egg under the pedal. I read that the smart car has the slowest acceleration of any American car. Well, that makes my job easier! It just means I have to be careful when entering traffic to leave enough room behind me that I don't need to 'gun it.'

4. Draft when possible. I usually don't get to do this on account of point #1, but when a slow truck lumbers along, I'll sometimes keep up with it, watching my ScanGauge to make sure that the drafting is actually working (and it is, but it's still a bit hard to believe).

5. Drive other than in the center of the lane. This is some advice I read on a hypermiler site. I'm not sure if it's true or whether it makes a significant difference, but the idea is that the lane tends to wear out in the area where most cars drive, so you will do better by driving a bit left or right of that line.

6. Air in the tires! Make sure your tires are properly inflated. Some hypermilers even over-inflate theirs, but I'm not going to risk it in my tiny car -- the tires are small and hard enough as it is!